Page 16 of The Lies We Tell

“One less problem for you to deal with then.”

A muscle in Matteo’s jaw twitched, and she had to stop herself from reaching up to run her finger over it.

“Your phone, Tessa.”

She took another step back and shook her head. “How am I supposed to find my mother if you take my phone?”

“That’s not a concern for me.” He paused, watching her in a way that heated her blood and made her stomach twist. “Don’t make me ask again.”

Tessa crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. If I want to deal with that, I’ll go back home to Syracuse.”

Matteo moved forward so quickly she didn’t have time to skirt the bed before she was backed against one of the posts and his body was pressed against hers. He kept his eyes trained on hers as he placed his hands on her hips.

The heat from his fingertips seared through her jeans and into her skin like molten lava. What in the fuck was wrong with her? She could not let her guard down around these people, and here she was, panting like a puppy just because he was touching her.

“You’re trying my patience, piccola,” he said, his voice low, breath warm on her cheek. “I need your phone.”

“No,” she replied, giving his shoulder a half-hearted shove. “I asked you to take me away from my father. Not keep me prisoner here.”

“No one’s keeping you prisoner,” Matteo assured her, skimming his hands along the curve of her hip, fingertips ducking under the hem of her sweater and sliding it up until he brushed bare skin. “You can leave anytime you want.”

“But not with my phone.”

“For your own safety.”

She tried to shift away, but he held her fast, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips in a way that made her cheeks heat—from embarrassment or arousal, she wasn’t sure. She’d never been close enough to a man to confuse the two sensations.

“What exactly are you trying to keep me safe from?” Tessa swallowed when his eyes dipped to her lips.

“Yourself. Your father. Retaliation.” His voice was deep and husky. “Take your pick.”

It happened all at once, the tightening of his fingers on her waist, the press of his body, the tilt of his head as he brought his mouth down against hers, the warm wet sweep of his tongue along her lower lip. It was electricity and heat and need all at once, snapping across her skin and sinking into her center.

Her arms hung limply at her sides. She didn’t know quite what to do with them, but he didn’t seem to care as long as her mouth remained an eager participant, and she was more than willing as his tongue brushed against hers and drew a moan from low in her throat.

He tasted like black coffee and chocolate, and she’d never tasted a more heavenly combination. Pulling her hips closer, he angled her head back, and took full advantage, sinking deeper into the kiss as his hands traveled around the curve of her ass and squeezed roughly.

Her breath caught in her throat, and the sound urged him on. When he fitted his thigh between her legs, she reached out to grip his forearms to steady herself, and he groaned at the contact, squeezing her ass again harder.

She liked when he did that, and she wanted to figure out how to make him do it again. His hands shifted on her ass, and she rocked against his thigh in response, shivering when another groan slid from his lips.

A noise in the hall startled them both, and a moment later, a maid carrying a silver breakfast tray was standing in the doorway, staring at them with wide eyes. But he didn’t jerk away looking guilty like she expected him to. Instead, his hands tightened on her, and he pressed his thigh more firmly against her core, a small smile ghosting his lips when she jerked at the pressure.

“We’re almost done here, Giulia. Give us a minute.”

The older woman bobbed in a quick curtsy and shut the door behind her, sealing them in. Matteo’s gaze skimmed her face and neck, catching on the bruises and frowning.

“How’s your throat?”

“Fine,” she said, though her voice sounded a little raspy to her own ears.

Not from her injury, though. From the memory of his lips on hers and the rough feel of his beard. She wouldn’t mind feeling that on other places on her body. At least three of them came immediately to mind.

“Good.”

His fingertips danced across her backside, and just as she thought he’d squeeze it again, he plucked her phone out of her pocket and took a quick step away. Searing rage quickly replaced the chill from his absence.

“You asshole!” She ignored his raised brows, stalking forward to drill a finger into his chest. “I’m not a fucking toy you can use to get what you want and then discard. Give me back my phone!”

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