Protecting What's Mine Page 7

  True to his word, he slows his pace, and I do my best to pick mine up. Otherwise, he would be speed walking beside me. If the man is trying to get a work-out in, what he’s doing isn’t going to cut it.

  Even though I’m focused on my breathing, I’m still hyperaware of Matteo at my side. How could I not be? He’s tall, muscular, and strikingly handsome. The man certainly has a presence.

  By the time we reach the glass doors of our building, George is there to open them for us. I’m huffing and puffing. My face feels heated. Those two miles were done in record time. For me, anyway.

  Matteo barely looks as though he’s exerted any effort at all.

  George tips his hat to us as we head into the wood-paneled lobby. If he’s surprised to see us together, it doesn’t show. We call for the elevator before stepping on and riding up to the thirtieth floor. Before I know it, the doors are sliding open. I can’t help but release a sigh of relief. Sharing the same space with Matteo makes me tense.

  Opening my door, I turn to meet his eyes. “Bye.”

  His dark gaze rakes over me with no smile in sight. Again, I’m struck by the feeling that this is not a man who makes slow, sweet love to a woman.

  No.

  This is a man who likes to fuck.

  Hard.

  The words he uttered and that woman’s cries of pleasure from that night on the balcony ring throughout my head as our stare continues to hold.

  I know exactly what’s going through my mind, but I haven’t the faintest idea of what’s going through his. Matteo’s gaze is shuttered, yet still piercing. I feel all but slayed by it. Much more breathless than when I was running to keep up with him.

  “Goodbye, Grace.”

  I acknowledge his words with a jerk of my head, turning away to escape the impenetrableness of his stare. He has a way of making me feel as if I’ve been stripped bare.

  I’m not used to that.

  Nor am I sure how much I like it.

  Just as I’m stepping over the threshold, on the cusp of freedom, he says, “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”

  My eyes dart to his. Another bolt of electricity surges through me as our gazes reconnect.

  “Yes,” I force out the rest of the words, “I’m sure we will.” That being said, I quickly slam the door. The way he affects me is unnerving. The worst part is that as attracted to him as I am, part of me wants to run and hide. I wonder if it’s too late for that.

  For some reason, I think it might be.

  Chapter Nine

  When I head downstairs to go for a run the next morning, Matteo is waiting for me in the lobby. I’m not going to lie, it kind of throws me off. Being around all the gorgeousness isn’t easy. It takes some getting used to, and I’m not there yet. He makes me feel self-conscious and awkward in a way I’ve never experienced before. He has this way of watching me that sets my already frayed nerves on edge. I feel tongue-tied when we’re together.

  I don’t think we’ve exchanged more than a handful of words.

  And yet…

  I can’t say that I don’t enjoy having him at my side. He may jack me up inside, but I like being around him. It doesn’t make the least bit of sense.

  What I find most amusing is the way women instantly perk up when they see him. I’m talking every female we pass on the street. It doesn’t matter if they’re pre-teens or middle aged, they all rubberneck. And the looks they shoot my way after getting an eyeful of him are hilarious.

  I can’t resist smirking back at them every once in a while.

  See?

  It’s not just me. He has this effect on all of womankind. I can’t take it personally.

  An hour later, we part company at my door. This time he doesn’t stop to chitchat. Matteo gives me a wave before continuing to his own door. That casual behavior makes me suspect that us running into each other in the lobby is nothing more than a coincidence.

  But then I come down the next morning, and Matteo is waiting in the lobby again. This time, I figure we’re either on the same schedule, or he’s decided that I need a running buddy. Again, we don’t talk much. A few pleasantries are exchanged and a little bit of banter.

  It takes everything I have to keep pace with the man. His legs are much longer than mine which gives him a longer stride. I can tell that he’s trying to slow down, and I hate it.

  So I push myself harder.

  And I run faster.

  By the time we run five miles and make it back to the building, I’m on the verge of stroking out. I don’t think Matteo realizes it. I try not to collapse into a Jello-y mass of limbs until after I’m inside my condo.

  Matteo.

  Is that the sexiest name ever or what?

  By Friday morning, a pattern is set. By unspoken agreement, we meet in the lobby of our building. We run five miles along the lakefront and return after about an hour.

  There is no same time, same place, see you tomorrow.

  To be honest, I’m not even sure if he enjoys my company because we barely talk. I don’t know what I’d say if he were to strike up an actual, in-depth conversation. Every time we converse, I get tongue-tied. So I keep my mouth firmly shut and focus on keeping pace with him which requires all of my attention.

  I find it difficult to believe that he has any interest in me. I saw the woman he was with at the club the other week. I didn’t get a good look at her face, but she was definitely all… slinky.

  And sexy.

  In other words, she was the perfect compliment to him.

  I, however, am not.

  After our Friday morning run, Matteo leaves me in the hall again as he continues toward his place. I’m tempted to ask if he’ll be running tomorrow morning, but I don’t. After showering and changing for the day, I get a text from Chloe asking if I’m up for a night out at Covet.

  That was one crazy place.

  A Technicolor dream world.

  That being said, I had an amazing time.

  So… why not?

  School hasn’t started yet. And neither has my volunteering opportunity at the museum. I still have quite a bit of free time on my hands. And I haven’t met any other people my age. All the residents I’ve run into in the building so far, other than Matteo, are older.

  In their thirties and forties, at least.

  I think Matteo is in his late twenties, possibly early thirties. We haven’t swapped life stories. And I’m okay with that. I like the fact that we’ve been running together and just keeping it light.

  I don’t expect anything more than that.

  Much like last time, we skip the long line and are ushered inside the sumptuous walls of Covet. This isn’t my first time here, but I feel just as awed by the spectacle around me. The girls dancing on platforms, the DJ spinning records in a balcony high above the dance floor, the thumping beat of the music, the multi-colored strobe lights, and the fog rising off the floor. Not to mention all the beautiful people writhing en masse and lining the balconies.

  Just walking through the door makes me feel sexy. I haven’t been here for five minutes, and already my body is moving to the music.

  “Maybe we should get you a job dancing on a platform.” Chloe wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  I almost laugh.

  I can’t imagine walking around in nothing but body paint and a smile. I shake my head. “Not going to happen.”

  She jerks her chin towards the bar. “I think Sasha would enjoy it.”

  My eyes slide in that direction, taking notice of the same bartender who had been flirting with me the last time I was here. I doubt she’ll remember me. Hundreds of people must pass through here each night.

  “Please.”

  Elbowing me, she grins. “Trust me, she wants you. My advice is that if you’ve ever been, shall we say- curious, Sasha is definitely the one to experiment with.”

  My brows skyrocket up my forehead. “And exactly how would you know that?”

  Her grin turns mischievous, as if she has a delicious
secret she won’t be sharing anytime soon. “Let’s just say I’ve dipped a toe in the lady pond and leave it at that.”

  My mouth pops open. “You did not!”

  “Just once!” Pausing, she nibbles at her lower lip before admitting with a smile, “Okay, twice.”

  “What?” I screech in disbelief.

  Inching closer, she whisper-yells to be heard over the music, “Trust me, that girl gets a lot of pussy. And she knows exactly what she’s doing with it, too.”

  The way she gently suckled the tip of my tongue last week flashes through my mind.

  Now imagine that’s your clit.

  I gulp.

  Before I can pepper her with any more questions, Chloe pulls me alongside her as we make our way toward the bar. She waves to almost everyone we pass. As soon as Sasha sees Chloe, she makes a beeline for her, ignoring other waiting customers in the process.

  “Hey, baby.” Her dark eyes flash before shifting. As soon as they land on me, her smile turns wicked. “I see you brought the newbie back.” She gives me a sexy little wink. “Couldn’t stay away?”

  I shake my head.

  “Good. That’s what I like to hear.” She flicks her heavily made up eyes towards Chloe. “The usual?”

  “Please.”

  She turns, grabbing several bottles before expertly pouring and combining different kinds of liquor. Unable to stop myself, my eyes roam over her painted body. Instead of a gold bikini like last time, her toned flesh is decorated with brightly colored flowers. The artwork is impressive.

  I don’t know how she can stand in front of a huge, raucous crowd as if she’s fully dressed. I don’t have the confidence to pull that off. But she does. She totally owns it. Turning back to us with a drink in each hand, she slides them toward us. I notice that each of her breasts is painted to look like a flowering bud with an unpainted nipple in the center. When I finally lift my eyes, remembering that I shouldn’t stare at this woman’s body, there’s a knowing smirk on her face.

  Busted.

  Again.

  Instead of blushing and feeling embarrassed, I simply smile. “I like your flowers.”

  She gives me another sassy wink. “You let me know when you’re ready to get up close and personal, honey.”

  Grabbing our drinks, we turn away from the bar, each of us taking a big sip before surveying the crowd on the dance floor. The friends Chloe showed up with tonight have already disappeared into the throng.

  Once we’ve finished our cocktails, Chloe grabs my hand and pulls me through a mass of gyrating bodies until we locate her friends. And then, just like before, I happily give myself over to the pulsing beat of the music. The DJ continues spinning records, one upbeat song bleeding into the next. I have no idea how long we stay out there. After a while, one of Chloe’s guy friends gets between us, and the three of us dance together. His hands are on my hips. Chloe is behind him.

  Grinning, he pulls me closer and grinds against my backside. I raise my arms above my head and twirl them in the air. Chloe continues to flank his other side. We stay melded together for the next two songs before he leaves to dance with someone else. Thirty minutes later, I’m dripping with sweat and could use a breather.

  I let Chloe know that I’m heading to the bathroom and that I’ll be back in a bit. I’m thinking about stopping at the bar and grabbing a water because I could use something to drink.

  I’m having so much fun.

  I feel light and carefree.

  It’s the best feeling in the world.

  I don’t want it to end.

  It takes nearly ten minutes before I’m allowed inside the chrome and glass ladies’ room. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I inspect the damage. Thankfully I brought a small silver purse that crosses over my chest. It’s big enough to hold my phone, money, lipstick, and mascara- the essentials. I freshen up and head to the bar to grab a bottle of water.

  Sasha immediately takes care of me, and I leave her a ten-dollar tip.

  From beneath thick eyelashes, she gives me a loaded look. “You know that’s not what I’m after, sweetheart.” The woman has gorgeous, almond-shaped eyes. They’re a rich, sable brown that matches her hair. There’s something exotic about her appearance.

  Unable to help myself, I grin over my shoulder before blowing a little kiss in her direction. A gurgle of laughter escapes from her lips.

  What I like most about this place is how easy it is to lose yourself. There’s so much going on. It’s a sensory overload bonanza.

  As I circle the crowded dance floor searching for Chloe, a pair of hands grab me from behind, quickly pulling me into the shadows. And then a hard, unforgiving body presses against me.

  For one stunned moment, my mind goes blank.

  Oh my God, I’ve heard about things like this happening!

  I’m reminded of the movie Taken, where Liam Neeson’s daughter gets snatched up to be sold on the black market as a sex slave, and he has to fly to France and rescue her.

  Blind panic fills me at the thought of being kidnapped.

  I suck in a shaky breath, ready to scream my head off, when I hear a familiar voice in my ear say, “Calm down. It’s me.”

  Recognizing the faint accent, the adrenaline pumping through my system dissolves, leaving my knees weak and rubbery. I sag against Matteo in relief. A muscular arm snakes around my rib cage. His fingers fan out so that they graze the underside of my right breast. His other hand is at the base of my neck, lightly resting against my throat. Strangely enough, I don’t feel trapped by the hold he has on me.

  If I wanted to break free, I could.

  The question is, do I want to?

  “Who’s the guy?”

  My eyes almost roll up into my head as his warm breath feathers across my neck. Which is… I know.

  Okay?

  I know…

  I shouldn’t have this kind of reaction to him. It’s just plain stupid. And yet, here I am, practically swooning.

  “The guy?”

  I have no idea who he’s talking about. Despite the loud music and the thumping base, I’m only aware of him. Of his fingers caressing the underside of my breast. The way his lips nuzzle my ear. I feel every inch of him as he holds me tightly against his hard body.

  Lust and desire consume me in the blink of an eye.

  “The one you were dancing with earlier.”

  Oh.

  Jason. Or Jack. I can’t remember his name.

  “He’s just a friend.”

  “Are you sure about that?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a flinty edge to it.

  “Yes, he’s a friend of a friend. I met him last week.”

  As those words escape in a rush, I frown, wondering why I’m explaining myself to him. I don’t owe Matteo clarification for my behavior.

  Exactly who does this guy think he is?

  Trying to regain some semblance of control, I tense my muscles and stand a bit straighter.

  “What are you doing here, bella?”

  Bella?

  What am I doing here?

  Excuse me? Am I not allowed to be here? Why is he questioning me? “I came with a friend. We’re here to dance and have fun.”

  He purrs against the delicate shell of my ear. “Are you?”

  “Well, I was before this.”

  Inhaling deeply, I turn my head until I’m able to meet his obsidian-colored eyes. There’s an intoxicating promise of hedonistic pleasure in them. Another thick slice of desire slowly lances through me. We’re standing so close together and his large hands are on my body, once again pressing me against him. His mouth is no more than an inch away from mine.

  Questions roll off my tongue before I can stop them. “What about you? Are you here with someone?”

  Breaking eye contact, he lifts his head and gazes out onto the fog covered floor, nodding toward a woman dancing about twenty feet away from us. Feeling as though I’ve been sucker punched, the breath catches at the back of my throat as I reluctantly study h
er.

  Long, dark, straight-as-pin hair cascades down a lithe back. Slender, toned arms twine sensuously in the air. A tiny black dress covers her body. Her slender legs start somewhere under her armpits. And her face is stunning.

  Am I surprised to find him with someone who looks like this?

  No.

  I would be more surprised if he wasn’t. But I can’t deny the disappointment surging through me.

  If he’s here with her, what’s he doing lurking in the shadows with me?

  I’m proud of how snappy the words coming out of me sound. “Then maybe you should get your hands off me and rejoin your date.”

  “She’s not my date.” He chuckles. It’s deep and low and scrapes at something buried within me. “I don’t date women.”

  My eyes stay riveted to the woman he’s here with as his words echo through my head. I jolt when his lips glide over the column of my throat.

  “I fuck them,” he says in the same husky voice.

  His words make something curl tightly in the pit of my belly. The vileness of them should be off-putting. Their effect should be like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. They should douse the fires within.

  But they don’t.

  “And you’re going to fuck her tonight?” I almost cringe as those words slip out of my mouth.

  A shiver works through me as his hot breath brushes over the delicate flesh of my neck. There’s a sharp contrast between the scrape of his stubble and the softness of his lips as his mouth drags across my skin.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Would you prefer that I fuck you instead?”

  Oh God… his words are so dirty.

  I refuse to admit that I want him.

  Although I’m willing to bet he already knows. From the first moment I saw him in the elevator, I’m sure he knew that I was his for the taking. I’m like a puddle of goo around him.

  Even when I should resist him, I can’t.

  Trying to salvage a few scraps of my pride, I lie through my teeth. “No, I don’t want that.”

  Even though I can no longer see his face, I hear the amusement in his voice. “Is that so, bella?”