Standing by the railing that overlooks the city, I breathe deeply as the cool night breeze ruffles my hair. Willis Tower rises above the other lit-up building. I take in the skyline, admiring the breathtaking beauty surrounding me. I’ve seen the lake from my patio at night. But this is something altogether different. The bright city lights stretch like grasping fingers into the distance. I realize just how much I missed Chicago.
Matteo stands behind me with his front lightly pressed into my back. His arms are loosely wrapped around me. His warm breath fans against the side of my face. As always, his proximity sends shivers scampering down my spine.
Slowly he runs the tip of his nose across my neck.
I struggle to resist the urge to close my eyes and roll my head back, allowing him greater access. I want to feel his mouth kissing and nipping my skin. Instead, I focus on how the brightly lit buildings punctuate the dark sky.
I try not to lose myself in him too quickly.
When it comes down to it, I know nothing about Matteo.
I know that he’s ridiculously good looking. That he dresses well and lives in an expensive building. He obviously has the power to dig into my background and find out all sorts of information.
But who is he really?
If we venture into relationship territory, I need these questions answered.
“Have you always lived here?” I ask.
For a long, silent moment, he continues caressing me with the tip of his nose. My stomach sinks as I wonder if he’ll use his power of seduction to avoid sharing personal details with me. How can I give any more of myself when he won’t open up at all?
“Yes, I was born here.”
“But you have an accent.” It’s light, but noticeable, always threaded through his words.
“I’ve spent a great deal of time in Italy. My mother’s parents are still in Padova, as are many aunt, uncles, and cousins.”
The crumbs he shares whet my appetite for more. “Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
My eyes shut as his lips touch my neck. “Yes. Two sisters, two brothers.”
One of five...
I can’t begin to fathom what growing up in a family with so many siblings must have been like. Then add in all those cousins, aunts, and uncles. Grandparents, too. With a swiftness I’m unprepared for, longing cuts through my heart. I’m jealous that he can lay claim to so many people.
I have no idea what being part of a large family feels like.
Although I was content with my parents and had a happy, well-adjusted childhood, I secretly longed for a sibling. More than one. Of course, I loved having my parents’ undivided attention. Who wouldn’t? I accompanied them everywhere they went, but still felt lonely as the only child in a room full of adults.
I don’t remember hearing them talk about having more kids. I think they enjoyed parenting and still being able to live their lives the way they wanted- working, traveling, and visiting friends.
Mom and Dad loved the law and their jobs at the District Attorney’s office. They liked the challenges and rigors of their careers. They were passionate about giving back to society. They felt that what they did protected people. That it mattered and gave their lives intrinsic meaning.
They always made time for me despite their demanding careers. Our family may have been small, but we lived large and had many adventures together. It never felt as though something was lacking.
Or missing.
If my mother and father had glimpsed the future and saw how they’d be abruptly taken from me, would they have done things differently? Would they have given me siblings?
Matteo seems to sense the morose direction of my thoughts. His arms tighten around my waist as though he’s anchoring me to him. Does he feel how close I am to floating away into oblivion?
Blinking hard, I’m back in the present instead of tangled up in the past.
“You still miss them.”
We’ve never discussed my parents or their death, but I know what he’s referring to.
“Every single day,” I whisper.
“Being alone must be difficult.”
He has no idea.
How could he?
He’s been surrounded by family his entire life. He couldn’t begin to understand how lonely it is to have no one.
Unbidden tears flood my eyes. Other than Dominic and Chloe, I never talk about my parents. I keep all the pain associated with them locked in a box, buried deep inside. To constantly take it out and hold it in my hands is excruciatingly painful.
I stay busy with school, volunteering, and going out with Chloe and her friends. I spend time with Dominic. When my mind is engaged with other things, I don’t dwell on the loss as much. At least, I try not to.
But the stone-cold reality is that the sadness is always festering in the back of my mind.
“Don’t cry, bella. I don’t like seeing you sad.”
This evening began with me trying to figure out who this man is and has turned into me dwelling on my past. “I’m fine. It’s been two years now. It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to,” I lie.
Needing a distraction until I can get my emotions under control, I say, “Tell me about Italy.”
I accompanied my parents on trips to France, England, Germany, Greece, Africa, India, and China. They loved exploring new places. Mom and Dad enjoyed immersing themselves in rich cultural histories and learning about how other people lived. It was important to them that I not take the life I had for granted. And I didn’t. I had a different perspective than a lot of my classmates. I realized that not everyone lived the way we do. Even in our own country, I was shown that life could be a vastly different experience.
“Each summer, my mother would take all of us to Padova for three months so that we could spend time with family. And then around Christmas, we would go back for a few weeks. Italy has always felt like a second home to me.”
I smile while imagining Matteo’s entire family gathered together in Italy to celebrate the holidays. “That sounds lovely.”
“It was.” He’s quiet for a moment before asking, “What was it like growing up for you? Did you have a happy childhood?”
I keep my gaze on the city lights shining brightly as far as the eye can see. “Yes, very happy. But it was just the three of us. Sometimes my godfather would spend the holidays with us, and that was always nice.”
“There are no aunts or uncles? Grandparents?”
Sadness rushes through me as I shake my head. “No. It was just the three of us. And of course, Dominic, my godfather. He’s the closest thing I have to family now.” I feel the need to explain that even though it sounds lonely, for the most part, it wasn’t. I don’t have any complaints about how I was raised. “My mother and father were wonderful parents. They spent a great deal of time with me. I think they both hoped I would follow them into law, but I’ve always loved art. They took me all over the world. We visited natural history and art museums, along with castles and churches. The love I have for art and architecture is because of them. Because they fostered it within me. I’m the person I am today because of them.”
“I’m sorry. To lose your parents at such a young age is a huge heartbreak to suffer.”
His words send another thick shaft of pain slicing through me, almost cleaving me in half. “Yes.”
Thankfully, he asks no more questions about them. “Your godfather lives here in Chicago?”
“Yes. He’s one of the reasons I moved back. I wanted to be near him.” I shrug. “Neither one of us have family.”
“Will you introduce us?”
Surprised by the request, I turn my head to look at him. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I haven’t given it any thought.”
“I’d like to meet him.”
Feeling confused, I ask, “Why?”
“I want to meet the most important person in your life.”
I try steeling my heart, but it melts a bit from his words.
Matteo turns me around and pulls me closer until my breasts flatten against his chest. I tilt my head to meet his dark gaze.
“I thought we were taking this one step at a time.”
“Meeting your godfather would be moving too swiftly?”
“Maybe.” Dropping my gaze, I sink my teeth into my lower lip.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t meet this man?”
“Of course not,” I say hastily. The last conversation I had with Dominic flashes through my mind. Introducing the two of them will have to wait for the time being. I admit softly, “You’re confusing me. I’m not sure what to think of you or what’s going on with us.”
His lips ghost over mine. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe you need to stop thinking so much and rely on how I make you feel.”
That’s exactly what happens when I’m around him. My brain automatically clicks off and I’m reduced to a mass of quivering hormones.
“Would you like to use the pool?”
Smiling, my brows draw together. “I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Do we need them?”
That question makes me laugh. “Ah, yeah. I think we do.”
“Have you forgotten that I’ve already seen you naked?” Leaning forward, he brushes his lips over mine. “You’re a delicious sight, all pressed up against the glass with the city in the background.”
Heat fills my cheeks. “We can’t,” I whisper.
“Of course we can. No one is allowed up here until I allow it.”
Grasping at straws, I murmur, “I’m sure there are cameras.” Am I tempted to give in? Tempted to skinny-dip with him?
Yeah, I am.
“The cameras have been disabled for the time being.”
His answer makes me pull away. I frown. “How do you know?” Is he telling me what I want to hear so that I’ll give in? A month from now, will I find a video clip of me swimming in the buff or doing a lot more? That thought cools some of ardor rushing through me.
“I know the owner of the building,” he explains. “Call it a special privilege.”
I raise a brow, wondering how many other women have been treated to a night on the rooftop.
“You do this often?” I blurt.
A knowing smile slowly spreads across his face. It makes me want to deck him.
“Jealous?”
I snort, trying to sound haughty. “Hardly.”
Maybe.
A little.
He settles his fingers under my chin and tips my face toward his. “I’ve never brought a woman up here. I told you- I don’t date. I fuck. But for you, I’m willing to make an exception.”
His words make my belly quiver.
Do I believe him?
Studying him, I realize that- yeah, I do. Matteo has to know that he doesn’t have to wine and dine me so that I’ll have sex with him.
Yet here we are, standing amid the beautiful gardens on the rooftop deck after enjoying a decadent dinner prepared just for us.
Of course I’m wavering.
“You’re absolutely sure the cameras have been turned off?”
Hunger burns his eyes. “Positive.”
Feeling nervous and unsure, my tongue darts out to moisten my lips. His eyes drop to them, and a groan rumbles up from deep within his chest.
“Okay.”
An instant later, he pulls me to him. His lips descend for a kiss so consuming that I feel drunk from it. Mouth rising from mine, he backs away. Still dazed from the kiss, I watch as he sinks onto one of the deck chairs.
“Strip for me.”
A ball of apprehension forms in my gut. I’ve never stripped with the intention of seducing or turning someone on. I’ve peeled off my clothing while someone else did the same so we could jump into bed. But no one has ever sat down and simply watched me undress.
I stand frozen in place, unsure what to do. I watch Matteo’s face. The way his eyes roam over my body makes my pulse pound.
Moving back to Chicago, re-starting my life, I didn’t realize it at first, but a theme has emerged. It’s one of me stepping out of my comfort zone. Pushing my own limits. And this is just another example.
I could say no.
But I don’t want to.
I have no idea what will happen with Matteo in the long run, but I want to enjoy our time together while it lasts.
I step out of my sandals. My fingers hover over the buttons of my blouse. I can’t stop them from trembling as I slip one button free from its hole before moving on to the next.
The noise from the city below fades into the background. I’m only aware of Matteo sitting in front of me, watching every single brush of my fingers against my body. Having his undivided attention makes me feel sexy.
When I reach the last button, the material parts before I slip it off my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground. I can almost feel the way his eyes caress my naked flesh. The way he continues watching as I bare more of it for him.
My fingers move to the waistband of my shorts and pop open the button. I lower the zipper and wiggle the fabric over my hips until it meets the same fate as the shirt. Eyes locked on his, I stand before him in pale pink panties and a lacy bra.
Reaching around my back, I unhook the clasp. The straps slide down my shoulders, and the cups fall away.
What Matteo said before is correct. He has seen me naked. That knowledge doesn’t vanquish the skittishness pounding through me. My fingers slip beneath the elastic band of my panties, but I don’t immediately remove them.
Holding his gaze, I silently beg him to take over.
He takes pity on me and stands, his gaze never faltering from mine.
His fingers go to the top of his shirt and begin unfastening the buttons. When he reaches the bottom, his shirt hangs open, displaying a strip of olive-toned skin. He shrugs it off and makes quick work of his jeans, revealing tight black boxer briefs.
In the blink of an eye, those disappear as well.
My breath catches at the sight of him… all that firm, muscular flesh.
He’s gorgeous.
Matteo walks toward me with a hand extended. I take it without hesitation. We move to the edge of the pool, and he smiles at me before we jump in.