Page 70 of Matteo
“Dammit,” I muttered to the empty room.
Later that same day, when the sun was starting its descent, I found Matteo waiting for me in front of the building, leaning against his bike and holding up two helmets.
Matteo in a three-piece suit was hot, but in jeans, a white T-shirt, and boots, he was downright gorgeous. I couldn’t help admiring the tattoo on his chest playing peekaboo as he handed me a helmet.
I took it, inhaling his woodsy scent into my lungs.
“You look nice.” Matteo’s words sent a flush through me and stained my skin crimson from my hairline to my toes. “Ready for our date?”
Smoothing my hand over the flowery dress I wore, I nodded. “Where are you taking me?”
He laughed quietly. “It’s a surprise.”
With our helmets on, he mounted his bike and I followed, wrapping my arms around his waist. The handle of his gun pushed against my stomach and I tensed. I’d grown up around weapons, so it shouldn’t have surprised me.
“You okay?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes.”Liar.
Then since he knew me too well, he offered, “I’ll move it.”
I banded my arms tighter around him. “No, don’t.”
Because I knew from experience that in our world, trouble hit when you least expected it.
Seemingly satisfied with my answer, he revved his bike and took off.
The late afternoon sun breathed down our backs, but its heat had nothing on Matteo. I felt soft against his hard muscles as I melded my body to his. If he drove us straight to hell, I’d be fine with it.
It wasn’t a long ride, and when we arrived, there was a hot-air balloon waiting in a large field.
“Are we…?” I trailed off, absentmindedly handing him my helmet. “Are we taking a hot-air balloon?”
“Yes.”
I chewed my lip. “I’ve never been on one.”
“Me neither.” He pressed his lips against my ear, his breath scorching against my skin. “From now on, we’ll share many firsts.”
Taking my hand, we made our way to the men waiting for us. Matteo spoke Italian to them. I watched him, fascinated, as I waited for the men to come to an agreement. I tried to piece words together, but my Italian was elementary level at best.
“What’s going on?” I asked when they shook hands and one of the men opened the little hatch of the basket to the hot-air balloon.
“It’ll be just the two of us,” was all he said as we were secured inside.
I shot him a surprised look.
“You know how to maneuver this?” He nodded. “How?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve arranged with the men to keep us safe while airborne.” His dark hazel gaze locked on me, he watched me with amusement sparking in his gaze. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Ari.”
His voice was gravel and silk, a seduction of promises, and my heart fluttered like a butterfly trapped in a jar.
He gave a nod to the men who started unbinding the ropes that kept the balloon together and suddenly we started the ascent. Higher and higher we went, and soon we could see the outline of New York City in the distance.
Matteo’s tall body stood behind me, his heat a comforting blanket, while he busied himself with maneuvering the balloon.
“You know, there’s a meteor shower tonight.” I sighed dreamily. “What a sight it must be from up here.”
