Chapter Twenty-Four #3
He sliced apples while she wrote the opening paragraph.
When the mixer became too loud, he waited until she finished listening to an audio clip from the announcement video.
She pushed the laptop several inches away when flour reached the counter.
He placed a glass of water beside her without interrupting.
“What do people think?” Matvei asked.
Tessa glanced toward social media.
“Mostly positive. Some people wanted a separate color scheme.”
“You?”
“I like that the teams are connected, but I want the Tides to feel like their own franchise.”
“Dunning says own identity.”
“You watched that press conference.”
“Yes.”
Tessa smiled and returned to the story.
Matvei spread the batter into a pan.
She asked him whether tides technically rose or came in.
He answered that he did not know because he was Russian, which did not satisfy her.
She searched it herself.
The story took forty minutes.
Matvei placed the cake in the oven after thirty-two.
Tessa wrote about the reasoning behind the name, the shared colors and the timeline for merchandise and uniforms. She included Dunning’s explanation that tides represented movement, power and the relationship between Halifax and the Atlantic.
She did not write that Matvei Belov approved.
He would have been a good quote.
That made both of them smile when she said it aloud.
“Anonymous source,” Matvei suggested.
“Absolutely not.”
“Team insider.”
“You are not inside the Tides.”
“Same building.”
“That is not how sourcing works.”
“Could be.”
“No.”
He stood on the other side of the island watching her complete the final edit.
Tessa noticed.
“What?”
“You almost finish.”
“Yes.”
“Then dessert.”
“You are very invested in dessert.”
“Yes.”
“Is it good?”
“I do not know.”
“You made it.”
“First time.”
“That does not inspire confidence.”
“My mother recipe.”
“Then I trust your mother.”
Matvei folded his arms.
Tessa smiled at the screen.
She read the story once more and pressed send.
The confirmation appeared.
“Done,” she said.
Matvei moved immediately.
He came around the island, placed both hands at her waist and lifted her from the stool.
Tessa gave a startled laugh.
“Matvei.”
“No work.”
“The cake.”
“Twenty minutes.”
He set her on the counter where the laptop had been, moving it safely aside before her hip could strike it.
Tessa looked down at him.
“This is your response to me filing?”
“Yes.”
“You have strange editorial practices.”
Matvei stepped between her knees.
“You talk too much after work.”
“I talk for a living.”
He kissed her.
Tessa’s laughter remained against his mouth for several seconds before the kiss deepened. Her hands moved to his shoulders. Matvei placed one palm against the small of her back and drew her closer to the edge of the counter.
The domestic ease of the previous hour shifted.
She had sat in the same place writing while he measured flour, argued about the name and tried not to make too much noise with the mixer. Now her legs opened around him and the heat of her body reached him through their clothes.
Matvei kissed her slowly.
He did not need urgency.
She was here.
She wanted him to remain here.
Tessa’s fingers moved into his hair. Her mouth traveled toward the scar along his jaw, touching the raised line before returning to his lips.
“You worried me,” she said quietly.
“Trade?”
“Yes.”
“I am here.”
“For now.”
Matvei drew back enough to look at her.
“You say not real problem yet.”
“I know.”
“Then now.”
The words softened her face.
“Now,” she agreed.
She kissed him again.
Matvei’s hand moved beneath the hem of her sweater, fingertips following the warm skin along her waist. Tessa inhaled and leaned into him. Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him closer until the pressure between them became impossible to ignore.
He made a low sound against her mouth.
Tessa smiled.
“Russian?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Matvei kissed the side of her neck.
Her body shifted beneath his hands.
The counter placed her nearly level with him, allowing Tessa to wrap both arms around his shoulders without reaching. Matvei slid his palm higher beneath her sweater and found the clasp of her bra.
He paused.
Tessa looked at him.
“Yes.”
He released it.
The loosened fabric allowed his hand to move beneath, palm covering her breast. Tessa’s breath caught as his thumb passed over her nipple.
Matvei watched her face.
He repeated the movement.
Her head tipped back slightly.
The sight affected him immediately.
He pulled the sweater over her head and placed it beside the laptop, then removed the bra completely. The kitchen lights remained brighter than the bedroom lamp, revealing every change in her body as he touched her.
Tessa looked briefly toward the windows.
“Curtains,” she whispered.
“Closed.”
“You checked?”
“Yes.”
“Prepared.”
“You come dinner.”
She laughed softly.
Matvei lowered his mouth to her breast.
The laugh disappeared.
Her fingers tightened in his hair as his tongue moved over her. He used one hand to support her back and the other to open the button of her trousers.
Tessa’s breathing changed.
“Matvei.”
She pulled his face back toward hers and kissed him.
Her hands opened his shirt quickly, buttons slipping through her fingers with less patience than she had shown during their first date. Matvei shrugged it from his shoulders and let it fall near the stool.
Tessa ran both palms over his chest.
She pushed her trousers down as far as she could while sitting. Matvei helped, lifting her briefly from the counter and drawing them over her legs. Her underwear followed, leaving her bare from the waist down beneath the warm kitchen lights.
He stared.
Tessa shifted slightly.
“You still do that.”
“Yes.”
“You have seen me before.”
“Yes.”
“Many times.”
“Still.”
The answer pleased her.
Matvei placed one hand between her thighs.
She was already wet.
His thumb moved slowly through her, then circled the sensitive place above. Tessa’s knees widened around him, one hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other remained against his shoulder.
Matvei watched her.
He learned something every time.
The slight movement of her hips when she wanted more pressure. The way her mouth opened before sound came. The exact rhythm that made her stop trying to control her breathing.
He used two fingers, entering her slowly while his thumb continued above.
Tessa’s head dropped toward his shoulder.
“Bozhe,” Matvei whispered.
She laughed once, breathlessly.
He moved his fingers deeper.
Tessa’s body tightened around them.
The humor left her.
Matvei kissed her neck as he continued, taking his time despite the way she began moving against his hand. Her nails pressed into his shoulder.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
The word broke when he changed the angle.
Matvei felt her approaching the edge before she said anything. Her thighs tightened around him. Her breathing became short and uneven. He maintained the same movement rather than following the instinct to increase it.
“Come,” he said quietly.
Tessa shook her head once as though resisting the command.
Matvei kissed her.
“Come for me.”
Her body answered.
She clenched around his fingers, a soft cry disappearing against his mouth while the release moved through her. Matvei held her upright, continuing more gently until the shaking eased.
Tessa remained against him, breathing hard.
“The cake is going to burn,” she whispered.
“Not yet.”
“You have no idea how long that took.”
“I know.”
She laughed weakly.
Matvei withdrew his hand and kissed her once more.
Then Tessa reached for the front of his trousers.
The first touch made his body tense.
She looked up.
“Now you.”
Matvei closed his eyes briefly as her hand moved around him through the fabric.
He opened his trousers.
Tessa reached inside.
Russian escaped before he could stop it.
She smiled with visible satisfaction.
“That was definitely not God.”
“No.”
“What was it?”
“Nothing.”
“Something.”
Her thumb moved over the head of him.
Matvei crossed to the drawer near the pantry.