Page 62 of Matteo
He jumped to his feet, then extended his hand. “Not today. Now, how about a dance?”
“There’s no music.”
But I still put my hand in his and let him pull me to my bare feet, my kicked-off sandals somewhere by the kitchen. I stepped on his black loafers and we started dancing, the sound of our breaths, thunder, and soft pitter-patter somewhere in the distance.
“I like you in the kitchen.”
I pursed my lips. “That sounded very?—”
He chuckled. “Sexist. It’s not how I meant it though.”
“How did you mean it?”
He shrugged. “I like when you cook and bake for me, but I like it even better when we do it together.”
I feigned a gasp. “Matteo Vitale, what will the mobsters say if they learn you like to spend time in the kitchen with me?”
He grinned.
“They’ll remain silent or I’ll cut out their tongues.” I stared at him, trying to figure out whether he was joking. His expression told me he wasn’t.
“Well, your secret is safe with me.”
He bent his head, the tip of his nose brushing against mine. “You’re the one person outside of my family who I’d never hurt.”
Our bodies moved together, the muscle beneath his clothes hard against me, the heat of his body and his heartbeat against mine. Our gazes held and I waited for him to kiss me, my lips tingling in anticipation.
I wanted—neededhim to kiss me.
Yet he wasn’t making a move.
He must have read my hesitation because in the next breath, he pressed his mouth to my ear.
“Want me to kiss you, Ari?” I nodded. “Use your words.”
“Kiss me,” I breathed out.
As his lips lowered on me, the first raindrop landed between our faces, but that didn’t stop him. Instead, he deepened the kiss, our tongues dancing together. I wrapped my hands around his neck, my fingers gripping his strands.
Each kiss we shared put me on the highway to addiction. Unlike the two we’d shared before, this one was gentle. Slower.
The wind picked up as the raindrops fell faster around us when a soft hum filled the space as the glass dome started to close. But we never stopped dancing, the plinking against the glass creating the best kind of music for us.
And I couldn’t help but think this was the most romantic thing I’d ever experienced.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MATTEO
Iscooped her up, a loud squeal escaping her lips.
“Where are you taking me?” No sooner had those words left her mouth than the setup for the night came into view. Fluffy blankets made a cozy bed on the ground with red rose petals dusted all over it and makeshift planets floating in the air.
Her gaze found mine, her lips parted in a silent “O” as she searched for words.
“What is all this?” she breathed.
“I’m ready for my favorite dessert.”
