Chapter 23 Matei
MATEI
Iwake to the warmth of Jordan's body pressed against mine, her arm draped across my chest. Sunlight comes in through the curtains and across tangled sheets. The scent of sex still clings to the air, mixed with her perfume, creating something intoxicating.
I stretch and she hugs me immediately. "Don't go," she says, her voice thick with sleep. "Stay."
I glance at my phone. I'm sure Adrian's probably already awake and waiting for me to brief him on something.
But that can wait.
"Okay, I'll stay," I say, then stand up and walk over to the house phone naked.
I reach for the house line and bring the receiver to my ear, glancing back at Jordan.
She looks at me, her eyes dropping to my butt, smiling.
Abby answers, "Good morning, sir."
"Morning. We'll take breakfast in the room today."
"Okay, sir. What would you like?"
I don't know what she's in the mood for, so I order a full spread.
"Send up a little of everything, and leave it by the door."
"Yes, sir. We'll have it up as soon as possible."
I hang up the phone. It'll take a bit, but as long as Jordan stays naked, I'm in no rush to start my day.
I get back into the bed and sit up, resting against the headboard.
"Matei, you are so incredible to me, you know that," she says, and I pull her into me. Her head resting on my chest, her fingers tracing one of my tattoos on my stomach.
Last night was fantastic. We had sex twice before falling asleep, once slow and deliberate, the second time frantic and desperate.
In between it all, Jordan began asking me all kinds of questions. I suppose it's only natural for her to want to know everything about me. I want to learn everything about her, too. And not from my intel or emails, but from her lips.
That's a new feeling.
"Okay, so," she says, nestling into me, her fingers resuming their exploration of the tattoos spanning my abdomen. "You have three brothers. Adrian, Victor, and Lucian."
"Yes," I say, my hand running through her hair.
"And you were born in Bucharest, but spent a lot of time in Broshove?"
"Brasov, yes." I kiss the top of her head. "We'll work on your pronunciation."
She laughs, the sound vibrating against my chest.
"And while you say you're definitely not related to Dracula, the way you bit me last night says otherwise."
I smile, remembering the way she gasps when my teeth graze her throat.
"I got carried away. You have that effect on me."
She looks up and kisses me, her lips soft and warm.
"Same," she says, resting her head back down.
"And Adrian works with you, Victor is in politics, doing something I don't really understand, and your eldest brother Lucian works alongside your father."
"Yes. You're a fast learner."
She shrugs, her fingers tracing the edge of a skull inked into my ribs.
"Only when I care about the information."
"You're from Washington," I say, proving I do, too. "And you come to LA despite your parents' wishes because it called to you, as you say."
"Yep." She kisses my chest, her lips lingering over my skin.
"And you quickly get a modeling and acting contract, which doesn't surprise me, as you have the looks to do both."
"Yeah, well, thank you, but that didn't work out so well."
I nod, my hand stilling in her hair.
"Yes, that's what I wanted to ask you. Last night you mentioned that the work dried up. I wanted to know why."
She goes quiet for a moment, her fingers pausing on my skin.
"Yeah, about that..." She trails off, her voice losing some of its lightness. "You want the short or the long version?"
I squeeze her gently, pulling her closer.
"If it's about you, fluture, the long version. Always."
She looks up at me and stares for a moment, then gives me a half smile and rests her head back down, her fingers resuming their tracing, but slower now.
"Well, I got signed to a modeling agency that was owned or backed or whatever by this big producer.
I was super excited. Things started out great.
I booked a lot of gigs, some commercials even, and then it went south.
Turns out, the big producer treated it like a sex house.
Want a big role? Be prepared to bend over.
Not me. He gets really physical with me one night.
First time I hit a man. First time a man hits me. "
She stops and sighs, her breath warm against my chest.
"I get dropped from the agency the next day and all my work dries up, and people refuse to give me auditions.
I need money, so the cam shows start, which I swear I'd never do, but it turns out you'll do more than you think for groceries.
Then Lindsey hooks me up with the job at Omnia, which I don't like, but hey.
" She looks up, her eyes finding mine. "I meet you. "
I lean in and kiss her.
"Sorry," she says when we break apart. "I ramble sometimes."
I don't even notice. Honestly, I can only think about one thing from that story.
"What was his name?" I ask, my voice steady despite the rage building in my chest. "The producer who did that to you?"
She hesitates.
"Brian Saunders. Ugh, God, just saying his name makes me want to vomit. He does all those heist movies. Fucking asshole."
Brian Saunders.
I repeat the name in my head, committing it to my list of men who are already dead. They just don't know it yet.
"Anyways," she says, shifting the subject. "So you're in the mafia, huh?"
She laughs, but the sound is hollow.
It breaks the tension and rage I'm feeling internally from her story.
"Well, I wouldn't call it that. Though some people do."
"Oh, come on." She sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal her perfect breasts. "Your family is very 'influential' in Romania, and you're out here expanding your name in LA. And let's not even talk about what you did the night we met."
I smile, though my eyes keep drifting to her chest.
She laughs and shakes her shoulders.
"Eyes up here, buddy," she says, but she doesn't cover up.
"That's almost impossible given how perfect your body is," I say, forcing my gaze back to hers. "I suppose I live a very different life. Not that Hollywood movie mafia crap most people in this city probably think about, however."
"Oh no, not that," she says, acting shocked.
I smile despite myself.
"It's much more boring. Mostly dealing with payoffs, bribes, and paperwork."
There's a knock at the door and Jordan reaches for her shirt.
"Don't you dare," I say, getting up and pulling on my boxer briefs.
"I don't want anyone seeing me naked, you know," she says.
"Neither do I. I told them to leave it at the door."
I walk over and crack open the door, just to make sure my staff listened.
I see the back of one of my maid's heads turning down the hallway. Our breakfast tray is on the ground in front of the door.
I pick it up and bring it into the room, shutting the door behind me.
Jordan smiles.
"Well, if I'm staying naked, then so are you."
I smirk.
"Fair enough."
I set the tray down on the bed and she comes over, hooking her fingers into the waistband of my boxers and pulling them down. She licks the tip of my cock slowly, her tongue warm and wet.
"That's just a preview of what you'll get after breakfast," she says, looking up at me and winking.
I smile and climb back into bed.
"Then I'll eat faster than I ever have in my life."
She laughs and settles beside me, pulling the tray closer.
There's fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and coffee. Enough to feed four people.
Jordan picks up a strawberry and bites into it, juice running down her chin.
I lean over and lick it away, and she laughs.
"Careful," she says, her voice breathy. "Or we'll never eat."
"Oh, but I will," I say.
Her face turns red and she playfully hits my arm. "You're ridiculous, though that does feel amazing. You're gifted in that department, among other things."
We eat in comfortable silence for a while, her occasionally feeding me pieces of fruit, me pouring her more coffee.
As I reach for a slice of toast, a thought pops into my head.
"I have another question for you. What's your favorite food here in LA?"
Jordan thinks for a moment and takes a sip of coffee.
"Umm. Fettuccine Alfredo from Don's Italian Bistro on Sunset."
I make a mental note.
Then my phone rings.
Adrian's name flashes across the screen.
"Shit," I say. "I need to go."
Jordan sets down her coffee and turns to face me, her eyes wide.
"What?" she says. "Are you sure? You saw the preview I gave you. You want to miss out on that?"
I look at her, naked and perfect, and toss my phone to the side.
"Hell fucking no."
She grins and crawls over to me, straddling my lap again.
"Right answer," she says, leaning down to kiss me.
Her lips are soft and I grip her hips, pulling her closer, and she grinds against me.
"You're going to be the death of me, fluture," I say.
"Good," she says, biting my lower lip. "At least you'll die happy."
She pushes me back against the headboard. "Now, let's see if I can fit all of you in my mouth."