Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Mateo
The moment Vaeda’s lips touch mine, all control I’ve desperately clung to shatters. A rush of heat ignites between us, searing away every thought and hesitation, every carefully constructed barrier. The taste of her mouth, sweet and utterly intoxicating, draws me in deeper, demanding more.
With a low groan, I tighten my grip around her waist, pulling her flush against me, and her hands slide into my hair, nails lightly scraping against my scalp, sending sparks of pleasure down my spine. Every nerve in my body feels electrified, drawn irresistibly toward her.
My movements become urgent, driven by raw need as I maneuver us backward until Vaeda’s back gently hits the mirrored studio wall.
A gasp escapes her, swallowed quickly by another fierce kiss.
Her lips part willingly, her tongue tangling passionately with mine as our breaths mingle, hot and desperate.
My hands slip beneath the hem of her shirt, fingertips trailing over soft, heated skin.
Vaeda arches into my touch, her body trembling slightly under my palms. The sensation fuels my desire further, and with bold determination, I slide my hands higher, fingertips brushing over the bottom swell of her breasts.
“Mateo,” she breathes against my lips, voice shaky yet filled with yearning.
“I don’t want to stop,” I confess, my voice rough and strained, my lips tracing a heated path along her jawline down to her neck.
“Don’t,” she whispers urgently, her body pressing closer as her hips shift restlessly against mine.
Encouraged, my hands move further, dragging her shirt up and exposing her perfect breasts.
My fingertips are tentative against her skin, teasing lightly before finally slipping upward to cup them.
Her sharp inhale sends heat pooling deep within me, awakening a primal urgency that drowns out all rational thought.
Her fingers find the edges of my shirt, gripping the fabric desperately as she breaks away from the kiss just long enough to pull it over my head.
The cool air against my heated skin barely registers as our bodies collide again, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.
Vaeda’s hands explore the expanse of my bare chest, tracing each muscle and dip, igniting flames wherever her fingers touch.
My mouth finds hers again, deepening the kiss with reckless abandon while my thumbs brush against the sensitive peaks of her breasts, eliciting another sharp gasp from Vaeda. Her reaction drives me wild, each soft sound she makes tightening the coil of desire winding tighter within me.
My hips press insistently against hers, letting her feel exactly how much I want and need her. She responds by arching into me further, her body molding perfectly to mine. Every movement, every touch between us, grows more heated and desperate, pushing us closer to the edge of control.
“Vaeda,” I murmur huskily, lips brushing against her collarbone, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to the hollow of her throat. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
“Show me,” she whispers urgently, her hands tangling roughly in my hair, pulling my mouth back to hers with fierce determination.
Our kiss becomes a tempest, charged with explosive desire.
Every boundary and every rule we’ve set combusts under the force of our need.
Our bodies move in sync, pressed against the studio wall, completely lost in each other.
There’s no turning back, no retreating from this moment, only the potent, overwhelming reality of our undeniable attraction.
In this heated embrace, I know one thing with absolute certainty: I’ll risk everything, including myself, just to hold Vaeda this close, even if it’s just for this fleeting, dangerous moment.
VAEDA
My breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps, Mateo’s taste still lingering on my lips as my hand boldly moves to cup him through his pants. His deep groan vibrates through me, sending shivers along my spine. Desire coils tighter within me, obliterating every rational thought.
Then, abruptly, the subtle but unmistakable sound of the studio’s outer door opening splinters our heated moment. The reality crashes back in, sobering and cold. Panic surges through my veins, and I push Mateo away firmly, heart hammering inside my chest.
“Someone’s here,” I whisper urgently, my voice tight with fear.
Mateo reacts swiftly, grabbing his discarded shirt from the floor and pulling it hastily over his head, his chest still heaving from our passionate embrace.
I snatch my sweater from the nearby bench, barely managing to tug it over my head, smoothing my hair down hastily as heavy footsteps echo down the corridor, growing louder with each step.
The studio door swings open just as Mateo steps back from me, putting careful, intentional distance between us. Greyson strides into the room, his face registering surprise as he sees us.
“Vaeda, Mateo,” Greyson says loudly over the music still playing, his tone guarded, eyes narrowing slightly as they dart between us. “What are you two doing here this late and on a Sunday?”
My heart races painfully as I move toward the sound system to shut it off. I force my voice into a steady, nonchalant tone as I say, “Just practicing some moves for Paris. Mateo wanted some extra rehearsal time.”
Mateo nods quickly, his voice equally composed despite the flush still evident on his cheeks. “Vaeda offered to help refine some steps. We lost track of time.”
Greyson eyes us carefully, the silence stretching just long enough to be uncomfortable before he finally nods slowly, accepting our explanation. “Right. Well, don’t burn yourselves out. It’s late, and we have a full schedule tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I reply calmly, the forced smile feeling brittle and fake. “We were just finishing up.”
Greyson shifts his stance, clearly still unconvinced, his sharp gaze lingering on me longer than necessary. “Actually, I came by to look over this month’s expenses. I figured I’d handle them tonight before the rush of Christmas and such.”
A surge of fresh anxiety washes over me, realizing Greyson intends to stay. “They’re on the desk,” I say quickly, motioning vaguely toward our office. “I left everything organized.”
“Great,” Greyson responds, moving toward the office door, though he pauses briefly, his hand resting on the handle. “I’ll be here for a bit. You two should finish up quickly.”
He finally disappears into the office, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Mateo and I exchange a tense glance. The charged atmosphere from moments ago has vanished, replaced by overwhelming dread. This close call serves as a sharp reminder of the dangerous path we’re walking.
We stand frozen, listening to the rustling sounds from the office, acutely aware of Greyson’s proximity. Mateo’s eyes meet mine, filled with unspoken questions and residual heat. I shake my head subtly, signaling caution. The risk is too great, the stakes far too high.
Silently, we gather our belongings, each movement almost mechanical.
The air between us feels thick, laden with the tension of interrupted passion and the fear of nearly being caught.
As we head toward the studio’s exit, I cast one final glance toward the office door, my stomach churning with anxiety and unresolved desire.
Stepping into the cool evening, we both inhale deeply, attempting to calm our racing pulses. The city lights blur around us, my mind swirling with uncertainty and longing.
“Vaeda,” Mateo begins softly, his voice cautious yet strained.
I stop him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Not now,” I whisper urgently. “We’ll talk later.”
He nods reluctantly, his eyes shadowed with understanding and disappointment. We part ways silently, each step pulling me further from Mateo, but not from the turmoil raging within me.
The cold air offers no relief, only amplifying the intensity of emotions I can neither confront nor escape. Today has changed everything, and as I walk alone, I know there will be no turning back from the path we’ve recklessly started down.