Chapter 15 Matteo
MATTEO
Nicola Moretti was a knockout.
Not that it was new information, actually something that played over and over again in my head every time I saw her. And yet, it still hit me like a punch every damn time, made my world spin.
One second, I was horsing around with Gia in the shallow end, trying to convince her to let go of the pool noodle and race me to the edge.
I had jumped into the pool to earn another giggle, and it worked.
The next, I looked up and she was there—standing at the edge of the chaise lounge chair, peeling off that soaked little cover-up.
And fuck. It took everything in me not to drop my jaw like a cartoon character.
Her bikini was a shade of blue that made me wonder how I could convince her to wear that color every damn day.
Made me think blue was my new favorite color.
Every inch of her was golden and glowing in the late morning sun, legs endless, curves carved like art, eyes hidden behind those oversized sunglasses that did absolutely nothing to hide her attitude. Or the flush crawling up her neck.
She knew I was watching.
She always knew.
And instead of pretending not to notice like a normal person, I just stood there in the pool like an idiot, water swirling around my waist, staring like I’d never seen a woman in a swimsuit before.
She finally turned her head toward me, giving me a perfectly unimpressed look.
One brow arched above her sunglasses. My brain short-circuited.
I smirked, mostly to cover how wrecked I already felt. “You trying to kill someone, Moretti?”
She rolled her eyes, like I was being dramatic. “It’s a bikini, Matteo. Grow up.”
Yeah, sure. Just a bikini.
And I was just a guy slowly drowning in the deep end of ‘she’s not yours, idiot.’
I leaned back against the pool edge, stretching my arms out along the warm tile, keeping my gaze shamelessly fixed on her as she dropped back into her lounger like she didn’t just set my bloodstream on fire.
“Tell your brother to keep his eyes to himself,” she muttered to Lucia loud enough for me to hear, not bothering to glance my way again.
Lucia just snorted. “He was born incapable of that.”
The rest of the afternoon at the pool was trouble.
And by trouble, I meant Nicola Moretti reclining across from me in that blue bikini, hair now curly from the water and piled on top of her head in one of those scrunchies my sister always had on hand, sunglasses shielding her eyes so I couldn’t tell if she was looking at me, but I felt it. Every damn time.
She played it cool. Acted like I wasn’t even on her radar as she lounged with Lucia, sipping her drink like she wasn’t the most distracting person within a five-kilometer radius.
I overheard them talking about work and latest paddock gossip.
Lucia even tried to get her to open up about her ideal wedding venue, to which Nicola snorted and said, “No thank you, I’m single-rich-aunt material. ”
I barked a laugh from where I was floating with Gia, who immediately splashed me in retaliation. “More swimming, Zio!”
“Yes, boss,” I saluted her and dove under.
Still, between games of mermaid tag and poolside snacks, my eyes always found Nicola. Her skin glowed under the Italian sun with her legs stretched out. Her real laugh was rare, but when she let it slip? It echoed in my chest for longer than it should.
I made a mental note: Make her laugh more.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, Gia was dozing on a lounger, sun hat drooping over one eye, and Alex and Lucia were swimming, in their own private world.
I grabbed a towel, dried off, and sauntered over to Nicola. She was sitting at the edge of her chair, flipping through something on her phone, legs crossed. I tapped her foot with mine.
She looked up, one brow arched. “What?”
“You think you can spare an hour with just my wonderful company?”
She blinked at me.
I grinned sheepishly and pushed a hand through my hair. “There’s something I wanna show you.”
“Is it edible?”
“It’s beautiful.”
She eyed me skeptically. “You already used that line for the cliffs. You planning to drag me up another mountain?”
“No cliffs,” I said, backing away and jerking my thumb over my shoulder. “A boat. Private. I asked the concierge to hook it up earlier. We’ll be back before sunset. I already promised Alex we’d watch Gia tonight so he can take Lucia out.”
Her expression softened just a fraction.
“And,” I added, “I made sure they stocked snacks and drinks this time. No tequila, but two bottles of wine. Your pick.”
“Color me intrigued.”
The sun was low by the time we were skimming across the water.
The boat was sleek, white and gleaming, quiet except for the soft churn of waves beneath us.
I made sure that some of the snacks I saw her gravitate to were stocked.
Nicola leaned on the railing at the bow, hair tangled from the breeze, loose white shirt fluttering over her swimsuit.
I was starting to get genuine laughs from her, and I stored each of those moments away like treasures.
The boat pulled to a stop once we were out at sea.
“This doesn’t count,” she said over her shoulder as if it needed to be said, again.
I poured her a glass of wine and walked it over. “As?”
“A date.”
“Of course not,” I said, standing behind her. “It’s a not-date. Two colleagues enjoying a scenic view.”
She laughed again, soft and low. “You’re such a problem.”
I stepped closer. “You keep saying that like it’s a bad thing.”
I looked over to the stairwell at the stern. Knowing it led to a little private platform just above the waterline. I motioned toward it. “Come with me.”
She eyed me. “Why?”
“I want you to see the best view.”
She hesitated for a second, then followed silently.
When she turned to say something, I stepped in close, watching the shift in her eyes when she realized how little space was between us.
“I suddenly have this dream I can’t shake,” I announced, and she raised a brow as if to say ‘Go on’. “Kissing you on a boat.” She rolled her eyes. “Care to help me achieve it?”
I was smirking because even though she found me annoying, her eyes dipping down to my lips gave her away. She wanted to kiss me. But I waited. I was a patient man after all.
“Well?” She crossed her arms.
“Well what?”
“You going to kiss me, DeLuca?” A playful taunt in her gaze.
I moved forward, taking her face in both my palms and pressing my lips to hers.
Her mouth opened under mine like she’d been waiting, like we had both been waiting too long.
My hands slid to her waist, and hers fisted in my shirt, yanking me closer.
I spun her around against the side of the ship pressed up against her back, far out of view from the captain of the boat we were on.
Boat was probably a conservative term—I had spent much too long picking it out and the deluxe yacht just felt right.
Her chest pressed to mine, and I groaned into her mouth.
She tasted like a mix of wine and something I couldn’t get enough of.
I kissed down her throat, biting softly at her jaw, licking the dip of her collarbone.
Her breath caught, and I felt it all the way to my spine.
“You want to stop me, Moretti,” I murmured against her skin, “Now’s the time.”
She tilted her head, her voice wrecked. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
I grinned against her neck, then slid one hand down then up, dragging it under the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing the edge of her bikini bottoms. Her hips jolted forward, needing friction.
“Matteo—” she said my name on a gasp, making any semblance of self-control snap.
I let her take what she needed, my leg between her as she rolled into me.
And it hit me that seeing Nicola like this, the undone, mess of a woman was a goddamn honor.
My other hand slipped under her shirt, her warm skin greeting me with goosebumps as I went.
I pushed aside the top of her bikini top, let her pretty pink nipple come out as I rubbed a thumb over it in a teasing motion.
She let out another whimper and I knew she needed more.
“Shh,” I whispered, curling my fingers into the fabric of her swimsuit and slipping between her thighs. “Let me take care of you.”
She gasped, one hand gripping the rail behind her, the other twisting in my shirt as my fingers found her and slid slow. Her body arched, jaw clenched, eyes fluttering shut.
She was wet. Soaked. For me.
I kissed her again, harder this time, as my hand moved in tight, practiced circles. Her breath stuttered against my mouth, her thighs trembling. I didn’t stop, even when she moaned into my neck, biting down on my shoulder like it would keep her grounded.
It didn’t.
She came undone quietly, shaking against me, her hips grinding into my hand as I kept kissing her, kissing her like I needed her to remember exactly how it felt. When it was over she clung to me for a moment, head buried in my chest.
I held her. Let her catch her breath. Let myself feel her without pushing, without demanding anything more than this.
Eventually, she lifted her head. Her eyes were glassy, lips swollen, cheeks flushed.
“Starting to like this whole vacation thing,” I smirked and kissed her temple.
“Big fan,” she smiled, drunk off pleasure.
“Want to cool off?” I asked, nodding at the water.
“You trying to get me naked, DeLuca?”
“Nah, but enjoy the view,” I winked, pulling my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side and jumping off the side of the boat.
I broke the surface with a splash and pushed my hair out of my eyes, blinking up at the boat. The water was cold but refreshing, and the sun was dipping low enough to throw gold across the waves.
“Come on,” I called up, grinning, “Don’t leave me out here alone.”