She tried a spoonful of creamy, sweet-salty gelato. “So good,” she moaned.
Matteo watched her, a cryptic half-smile on his face. He took a bite and licked his spoon clean.
Low in her belly, a swarm of fireflies ignited.
He inclined his head toward the interior. “I worried about asking you up. Not a very impressive apartment.”
“Well, I’m glad you did. And I like your place. It’s artistic. Comfortable. Surprising. Like you.”
He flashed an adorable aw-shucks grin and dug into his dessert.
She snuck glances between bites, mesmerized by the slow, sensuous movement of his lips and tongue over the spoon. Finally, he pushed his empty bowl away. “Should have asked you to bring your guitar. I’d love to hear you sing again.”
“Pssshh.” She swatted away his compliment. “I’m an off-key amateur. It’ll take me months to get my chops back. Maybe years.”
Maybe never. You can’t turn the clock back.
“Bullshit, bella,” he countered. “You have a beautiful voice. Rich and round, like a good Chianti. And you play that guitar like it’s part of your body.”
She rolled her eyes, sure he was just trying to get her back into his bed—not that she needed much persuasion.
Reaching across the table, he took her hand. “Everyone needs a creative outlet. Otherwise, your soul shrivels up like a prune. Saw that happen to my dad. He let that damn car dealership suck all the joy out of his life.” He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. The candlelight flickered and danced in his espresso-dark eyes. “Don’t let that happen to you. Stay juicy, bella.”
There was no denying how juicy she felt in his arms. Whether that had to do with his creativity, or hers, was an open question. But being with him sparked visions of how much fulfilling her life could be—someday, when the kids were older. When they didn’t need her to be their taxi driver, academic coach, and all-around support team.
Reality rolled in like fog, damp and cold. “Eleven more days,” she muttered.
“Is that truly all you want?” He pressed his lips behind her ear, and the fireflies in her belly became fireworks. “Think about it, Danielle. Our connection is amazing. I’m not sure why that is—chemistry, destiny, or just dumb luck—but we deserve more than eleven days.” He lifted her hair and trailed kisses down the back of her neck.
Drawn by the light, a moth bopped against her cheek. With a deep, sexy laugh, Matteo released her and opened the French doors. “Inside? Fewer bugs.”
Sexy saxophone music sighed and moaned from the speaker on the counter. Taking her hand, he led her to a clear spot beside the front door. “Dance with me, bella?”
He could have pulled her straight to his bed. Already, she was flushed and slick with desire, but Matteo was in no hurry. He made it so easy to relax in his arms and sway to the music’s lazy beat. So easy to forget the world outside this cozy nest. Just two bodies moving to the same rhythm, two hearts beating in time.
Her fingertips toyed with the open collar of his shirt. Satin skin, soft hair, strong pulse. She pressed a kiss to the notch in his collar bone.
Spearing his fingers into her hair, he angled her head back and pressed his mouth to hers. His tongue teased her lips apart, then swept inside, all velvet sweetness and slow, sure strokes.
There was magic in his kiss, a sensual balm that quieted her doubts and gave her the rare gift of savoring the moment. Didn’t matter if he embraced her on the dance floor, on the beach, in her cottage, or here in his cozy apartment, Matteo’s succulent kisses anchored her to the present. She angled her head to welcome his unhurried exploration.
He pressed her against the cool wood of the front door, cupped her face in both hands, and fixed her with a glittering dark gaze. “Beautiful Danielle, you are…” He sighed and touched his forehead to hers. “A class act. Kind, funny, smart. What are you doing with a beach bum like me?” He unknotted the silk scarf holding her hair, wove his fingers into her curls, and trailed hot, wet kisses down her throat.
What was a gorgeous young artist like Matteo doing with a suburban drudge like her?
She raked her fingers through his soft mane. “I’m having more fun than I’ve had in years. Too many years.” It was easy to tell him the truth, since he’d be gone from her life soon. “You’re a treasure, Matteo. I wish I could keep you, but I can’t. So let’s enjoy today.”
“You deserve to enjoy every day, bella. Don’t forget that.” With a sexy animal grunt, he sank to his knees, raised her skirt, and whispered kisses over her inner thighs. Her core clenched and throbbed, craving his touch. He slid her panties down, lifted her leg onto his shoulder, and with a soft exclamation, buried his face between her thighs.
All thoughts of tomorrow drowned in a wave of pleasure as his tongue performed its magic. Long, lingering strokes, feathery licks, gentle nibbles, and firm suction on her clit that pulled her right to the edge of bliss. Too fast. If she only had eleven more days to indulge her sensual whims, she was damn sure going to taste them all. Starting now.
“Stop.” She unwound herself from his embrace and pulled him to his feet. “I want my turn.”
She tugged her blouse over her head, then unfastened her skirt and let it fall. With a giddy whoop, she flung her bra across the room.
Matteo gaped, chest heaving, his erection tenting his linen pants.
He must be going commando again, naughty boy. She scooped up the silk scarf, wound it around her neck, and stroked the cool fabric over her breasts.
