“This is amazing,” I said under my breath, peering out the window. I looked over my shoulder at her. She was standing to the side of the kitchen, my backpack still on her shoulders, texting someone on her phone.
Deciding to give myself a tour, I looked to my right and saw another hallway with a bathroom at the end of it. I walked down it and peered into the first room to my left. It was a small den, barely furnished except for a roll-top desk, a laptop, and an open filing cabinet. A few papers spilled onto the carpet beneath. A large amount of boxes were stacked along one wall. Seeing that, seeing the proof of Mateo having to move, having to start his life over, picked at my heart a bit.
I wasn’t the only one faced with massive change.
I continued down the hall, calling over my shoulder, “Do you know when Mateo will be back?”
I opened a door across from it on the right and peered into what looked like a small guest bedroom, tastefully decorated but unlived in.
“He just texted me,” she said. “Should be another hour or so, he hopes.”
I nodded and opened the door on my left. The last one. The master bedroom. It was gorgeous: a king bed with a fluffy white duvet that you’d find at fancy hotels, a large window that opened to the street, a humongous antique dresser, a walk-in closet (great excuse to go shopping with Lucia), and what looked to be a vast en-suite bathroom.
“So,” Lucia said. I turned to look at her putting the backpack down on the couch. “Now that you are here, I’m afraid I have to leave before the traffic gets too bad.”
I walked down toward her, both afraid to be alone and eager to take in my new place by myself.
She embraced me in a quick hug and a perfumed kiss on each cheek. “I will see you soon, yes?”
“I hope so.”
She smiled coyly. “This is your home now, Vera. You are with my brother. We will see each other so much that soon I will be a pain in the butt to you, too.”
She turned and strutted toward the door. Then she stopped and said, “I forgot to leave you these,” and put down a key and a key card on the kitchen island.
Then she was gone and I was all alone in my new place.
I was immediately overwhelmed by the silence, by the unpacking that needed to be done, by the shower I needed to take, by the exploring I needed to do. Instead I lay back on the couch and closed my eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The sound of keys rattling in the door woke me.
My eyes sprung open, my heart immediately off to the races. I sat right up and turned to look at the door, blinking a few times. I had to remember where I was. Mateo’s place. My place. I had fallen asleep on the couch, my body and mind weary from my travels.
My god, was it Mateo at the door?
I didn’t have to wonder for long.
The door opened and in he stepped.
All the breath was taken out of me.
Time came to a crawl.
My heart kicked up a notch.
The air became charged, electric.
All those cliché things that actually do happen to you once Mateo Casalles steps into a room.
He looked unbelievable. A sharp cut steel grey suit that showed off his broad shoulders, a white shirt underneath with top buttons undone to show off the dip of his throat, and no tie. Grey loafers with no socks so you could see a sliver of tanned feet. A thick briefcase in his large hands.
No wedding ring.
I paused on that for a moment, feeling the weight of it, before I looked up to his face.
He had a few day’s worth of stubble along his strong jaw, his hair a bit more tamed than I was using to seeing, slicked back slightly. I preferred his hair messy, but this showed off his great nose and high cheekbones. There was a faint trace of purple under his eyes, like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep, but the look in his eyes more than made up for it. They were full of wonder, amazement, and a hint of longing and desire that made me think perhaps I was his favorite food after all.
“Vera,” he said in a low voice, unsure, as if I were an apparition. He kicked the door shut with his leg and walked slowly toward me, putting his briefcase on the counter while his eyes never left mine. We were locked in our gazes, that charge in the air thrumming between us.
I found myself slowly getting to my feet, staring at him, feeling that tiny bit of awkwardness that you get when you see someone you haven’t for a long time, someone that you’ve been dreaming of, someone that owns your body and mind. It was like a first date, each person sussing out the other, wondering if they felt the same, wondering what to do.
At least that’s how I was feeling.
Mateo was never one to overanalyze.
He suddenly marched right over to me, a madness in his eyes, and for a heady moment I thought he might consume me.
He put his arms around me and brought me into a tight, hard, nearly painful embrace, holding me as if I were to be ripped right out of his hands. I was engulfed by his intoxicating smell, that mix of fresh ocean breezes and sensual musk, and strengthened by the feeling of his hard chest pressed up against me. I let out a muffled cry, my body overcome with hunger, my heart desperate for his. I could have been standing in the middle of the Arctic tundra for all I cared; as long as I was in his arms I felt home.
“I can’t believe you are here, my Estrella,” he murmured into my hair. “I can’t believe it. I pray I am not dreaming.”
“I pray for the same thing,” I said, my fingers pressing into him, afraid to lose contact.
He pulled back slightly and cupped my face in his hands, gazing down at me with eyes that burned with liquid intensity. “But you are real.”
He kissed me deeply, our lips feeding the passion in each other, our tongues melding together, sweet and spicy. That python of desire was back, squeezing me until it hurt, making me want, need, crave nothing but him, nothing but this moment. We gripped each other, fire in our fingers, pressed against each other as if we couldn’t get closer. I’d never wanted his cock inside me so badly, that physical link between us, to feel him so deep and thick.
Before I could even tell my hands to act, they were already reaching for his pants, unzipping them, sliding into his briefs and pulling out his cock, long, hard and heavy in my hands. Jesus. I almost came just from touching him.
He groaned at my grip, and that only made me throb even more, my underwear soaked. They needed to come off, now.
We fumbled for each other frantically, Mateo’s kisses growing deeper, his tongue fucking my mouth, and I felt my knees buckling. I nearly fell back to the floor but his hands had a stronghold on my arms. With a flame in his eyes, he lowered me to the rug until I was flat on my back. I hiked up my dress and wriggled out of my panties while he managed to only get his pants and briefs off. He attempted to unbutton his shirt but growled, “Fuck it,” and came down on top of me.
His head immediately went between my legs, and I made fists into his hair, already squirming. “My God, I have missed this taste,” he moaned, the vibration against my clit causing me to gasp and tug hard on his hair. It took no time before his tongue was swirling me to an orgasm. I wasn’t seeing stars—I was the stars.
There was no break, no respite. With my body still riding the wave, trembling with ecstasy, he was positioning his cock at my entrance.