Page 106 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
This kind of softness and honesty from such a chest-thumping alpha male is absolute crack. My heart pounds so hard I might as well have mainlined cocaine. I’m instantly addicted and desperate for more.
Also, I’m going to strangle his mother.
“I had a hamster,” I blurt. “Named Bugs. After my favorite cartoon character, Bugs Bunny. He lived a really long time, though. Way past the normal life expectancy.”
Matteo slow blinks, as if he’s waking from a dream. His forehead crinkles. He says, “Oh.”
If there were any sharp objects within easy reach, I’d happily stab myself in the eye. The man bares his soul, and I repay him with the fascinating tale of my immortal hamster.
I can do better than that.
“It’s just that I’m terrified you’ll break my heart.”
I say that in my tiny voice, the one I only use when I’m telling secrets about myself. I sound small and scared and I hate it, but tiny voice is the one that tells the biggest truths.
Matteo looks like he’s holding his breath.
“You challenge me. It’s never easy with you. And I like that. I think I need it. I feel more alive when I’m around you, even though mostly I’d like to smack you for being so annoying. I spend most of my time bitching at you when we’re together, and all of my time thinking about you when we’re not. I met you at the absolute worst time of my life, when everything I cared about was suddenly taken from me. And now I’m off balance. I can’t trust my own judgment. I can’t decide if you’re a fantasy or a nightmare. A prince or a villain. The best thing that’s ever happened to me, or the worst. So . . .”
I take a big breath for courage. “I’m scared. I’m scared, but I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you.”
His beautiful blue eyes shining, Matteo says softly, “I’m not a prince, bella. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m a marchese.”
Then he closes the distance between us and kisses me.
It feels as if I’ve jumped off a cliff. My stomach drops. My pulse races in terror. There’s a loud rushing noise in my ears.
Cradling my head in his hands, he peppers kisses all over my face, murmuring everything I want to hear him say. “I adore you,” and “You’re safe with me,” and “That was so brave,” and “How soon can we get you out of this dress?”
“Promise me you’ll never lie to me,” I say, gasping against his mouth as he bites my lip.
“You warned me never to say the P word.”
I shout, “Promise me or lose your testicles!”
His eyes full of emotion, he chuckles. “In that case, I promise.”
The kiss we share is so passionate I’m surprised all the clothing on racks around us doesn’t explode into flames. My heart drums a beat of I want you I want you oh God how I want you, and I cling to him, feeling the last of my resistance slipping away.
The kissing game might be over, but the kissing-naked-in-bed game is about to begin.
Only it’s not, because a loud throat clearing from somewhere behind me slices through my lovely little lust bubble like a knife. I turn, woozy, and find Clara in the doorway to the back of the shop, gazing at me over the rims of her glasses.
“We’ve finished look six,” she says, emanating scorn. If she were one of those scented room sprays, she’d be called Breeze of Utter Disappointment.
“Okay. Be right in.” My voice strangled, I attempt a reassuring smile, but judging by the heavy sigh I get in response, Clara isn’t reassured. She returns to the workroom, shaking her head.
“She doesn’t like me,” says Matteo, sounding unconcerned.
“She doesn’t like people with penises. Kiss me again.”
He obliges, and soon I’m flushed everywhere and having trouble remaining upright. “Holy hell, your mouth is a drug factory. Do you gargle with heroin?”
All throaty and hot, he says, “Wait till you see what I can do with my hands.”
I think I groan a little, dizzy with lust. If his hands and all his other parts are anywhere near as good as his mouth, I’ll overdose instantly. Matteo laces his fingers in my hair and turns my head to the side so I can see the dressing rooms.
Into my ear he whispers, “Should I show you?”
