Free Matteo by Cassie-Ann L. Miller Page A

sass right out of her. Now, she looks like the little seraphim I already knew was hiding beneath all her damn defenses.
     
    And I like it.
     
    I like her .
     
    I don’t want to, but goddammit – I do.
     
    I shake the thought out of my head. Slow down there, buddy . Time to put the brakes on. Fucking this fiery chick is one thing. Feeling something – anything – for her is a completely different story.
     
    I step into the massive hotel room and the wooden floors squeal under my weight. She stirs under the covers and rolls over. Her eyes flicker open and I watch as she eases up onto her elbows and peers around the room. Her mouth forms a huge O and she slaps her palm to her forehead as the reality of what happened last night settles in.
     
    No sweetheart – what happened between us last night wasn’t a dream. Every toe-curling minute of it was real . I feel my mouth twist into a wicked grin.
     
    I take another step, which causes the floorboards to wail again.
     
    Her eyes finally find me. “Mr. Moretti…” she gasps softly, her cheeks instantly turning crimson.
     
    I can’t help but chuckle.
     
    “What’s so funny?” she asks, pulling the light sheets tightly around her chest.
     
    “Well after the night we shared, I assumed we’d be on a first-name basis this morning.”
     
    She doesn’t seem to see the humor. “I need to go,” she mutters softly, stumbling out of bed, the sheets still clenched to her chest. She finds her underwear in a twisted mess on the floor. She grabs her dress from the pile on the chair where she’d tossed it at some point last night. She drops to the floor and grabs one of her shoes.
     
    She bustles by me, making a beeline for the bathroom. I grab her softly by the wrist and she stalls. There’s so much shame on her face when she looks at me.
     
    “Hey…” I say softly.
     
    Her eyes start to glisten. She looks like she’s about to cry.
     
    I brush my finger across her cheek, down to her chin.
     
    Her words tumble into each other. “I know what you probably think about me. I’m not the kind of girl you think I am. This was stupid. I was drunk.”
     
    I crane my neck, lowering my face to hers. “Relax…” I say softly. “Relax…Don’t overthink this.”
     
    Her posture softens just a little as she drags her wrist across her face catching the first of her tears. “I’m not just another notch in your belt, Matteo.”
     
    I smile softly at her. “No – you’re not.” My hand is still on her face. “Look – this was just a one-time thing. We just had a little fun. Nobody has to find out. Ever. What happens in Jersey stays in Jersey, okay?”
     
    She looks up at me, vulnerability overflowing and I just want to taste her again. I want to fuck her until it doesn’t feel like a mistake anymore. I think she wants that, too. Her eyes settle on my lips for a long time until they drop to my chin and run down my throat to my shoulders, my chest, the trail of hairs at the V of my stomach. Then, they ricochet back up to my face and I see desire shining in her eyes.
     
    Goddamn this fiery specimen of a woman.
     
    My fingers slide into her hair and I pull her head towards me. I can’t help myself. I have to indulge again. It’s urgent.
     
    My mouth covers hers. The kiss is gentle despite the scorching intensity blazing inside of me. Her lips are plush and cushiony. Her breathing seems to have stalled in her throat. Her whole body has gone rigid. I need her to relax. To breathe.
     
    I nibble at her chin. Tickle lightly at her side.
     
    She pushes out a soft giggle just as she exhales, tension evaporating from her body, the spent air seeping out of her lungs.
     
    I lap playfully at the seam of her mouth, causing her lips to part. I cradle her cheeks in my hands. The bed sheet drops away from her body as her fingers go to my waist. I lick into her mouth. Slowly. Slowly. My tongue dances with hers.
     
    My hands drop to her shoulders, holding onto her like