Chapter 31
Allegra
THE FOLLOWING WEEK, we landed at JFK. Matteo had fallen asleep during the flight, which left me free to do what I did best—overthink.
Was it a bad decision to bring him home with me?
Was it too soon? Was I leading him on too much?
He’d been to New York once and hated it.
What if being here scared him off, reminded him how different our lives were?
But then as we got ready to exit the plane, an older woman a row ahead of us struggled to get her luggage down, and Matteo stepped in and grabbed it for her.
I smiled, loving that he was always ready to jump in and help, even here in New York where he definitely wasn’t getting a knitted cap.
When Matteo smiled back at me, a rush of butterflies swarmed.
“How far is your apartment?” he asked as we stepped off the jet bridge and started the long walk to the airport exit.
“We landed at the worst time for traffic. I don’t usually take a car from here, but I would guess it will take anywhere from ninety minutes to two hours.”
“How far is it?”
“Fifteen miles, maybe?”
Matteo blinked. “Twenty-four kilometers, yes?”
I nodded.
“And it could take two hours?”
“Sadly, it might.”
“You said you don’t usually drive. How do you normally get home?”
“Trains. JFK has an AirTrain that takes you to Jamaica station where you can hop on a subway or train and get just about anywhere.”
“And that’s faster?”
I nodded. “And cheaper.”
“So why don’t we do that?”
I hesitated. “I didn’t want you to remember why you didn’t like it here in the first five minutes.”
He smiled. “I want to experience your life the same way you’ve been experiencing mine.”
My life was sweaty subways, screeching sirens, and skyscrapers. His was swaying sunflowers, slow sunsets, and serenity. He was bound to be disappointed. But when the overhead sign displayed an arrow pointing to the right for the AirTrain, he put a hand on my back and steered me that way. “Come on.”
Of course, New York delivered its usual chaos. God forbid we have an uneventful ride home. The E train was packed beyond reason, the air wasn’t working, and a man who was clearly strung out started pushing through the crowded car, shouting as he begged for money.
“Don’t pretend you can’t hear me!” He slammed his hand against a window, wild eyes darting around and landing on a teenager. “You! You think you’re better than me!”
Matteo had an arm wrapped protectively around me.
He let go, and I knew he was two seconds away from intervening.
But then the teenager held something out, and the guy flashed a smile that showed off a mouth of decaying teeth.
“You’re not so bad after all!” He brought the half joint to his mouth and lit it, right there in the cramped car, blowing the smoke all over passengers trying to ignore him.
I was relieved when the doors slid open at the next stop and the guy got off. But then a guy carrying three oversized duffel bags bulldozed his way on, knocking one into me and nearly slamming me into the door. Matteo caught me instantly and stared down the man.
“Watch it.”
The guy grumbled what I thought might’ve been an apology and shoved past. I held my breath for the remaining eight stops.
Matteo shook his head as we got off on the platform. “You put up with this every day?”
“Oh, it’s not like this every day. Sometimes it gets scary.”
Matteo’s eyes widened.
I chuckled. “I’m joking. But seriously, most of the time if you just ignore everyone, they leave you alone.”
“Most of the time,” he grumbled. “Great.”
The short walk from the subway station to my apartment was appreciatively dull. While I’d been wary about how Matteo would react to taking trains, I was actually excited for him to see where I lived. The uniform-clad doorman opened the door as we approached.
“Miss B.” He smiled. “Nice to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Hey, Ray. How are you?”
“How was Italy? Did you bring me home a souvenir?”
I smiled and looked over at the man following close behind. “Not this time. But this is Matteo. He’s staying with me while we’re here, so you might see him coming and going.”
Ray grinned. “Nice. Brought yourself home a souvenir instead.”
I laughed. Inside the elevator I pushed the button to my floor.
“Fifty-six?” Matteo said. “Are the lower floors more expensive?”
“Just the opposite. The higher you go, the pricier—because of the view, and it’s quieter.”
My one-bedroom apartment was modest in size, but the view was spectacular—at least I thought so. It wasn’t rolling hills or sunlit vineyards like Tuscany, but it had a wow factor of its own. Unlocking the door, I left the lights off as we entered, letting New York be the only illumination.
Matteo dropped the bags to the floor, and I took his hand, bringing him to the glass.
Skyscrapers shimmered with thousands of tiny lights, and avenues below glowed like rivers with red taillights flowing one way and headlights coming the other.
Neon signs pulsed, and amber streetlights washed the sidewalks in gold.
To the left, the 59th Street bridge glittered, and to the right, the East River reflected the city’s glow in ripples of silver.
“It looks alive,” he said. “Like it’s breathing.”
I loved watching him take it all in. “It’s not Tuscany. But it’s mine.”
He turned, eyes catching mine in the glow. “I can feel this city in you.”
I smiled. “What do you want to do first? You’re probably hungry. Would you rather go out to eat? Order in? Take a shower?”
Matteo leaned close, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “You,” he whispered. “I want to do you.”
And just like that, every worry I’d had about bringing him here disappeared. The doubts, the second-guessing—gone. All that existed was him.
He stepped behind me, pulling my hair to one side before pressing his mouth to the curve of my neck. The scrape of his stubble and the gravel in his voice shot heat through me when he murmured, “Can people see in?”
I swallowed and shook my head. “The glass is mirrored on the other side.”
“Eccellente.” He trailed his knuckles down my side, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “Hands on da glass,” he ordered softly.
I shivered but braced my palms flat against the cool pane. Outside, New York pulsed, a million things happening at once, but inside, behind these windows, the world narrowed to only the two of us.
Matteo’s body pressed flush against mine, his hard chest against my back, heat searing through the thin material of my long skirt.
He bent and slipped a hand under the hem, bunching it up to my waist. His other hand slid to my throat, fingers curving around it and holding tight as he nipped at my ear.
This was a different Matteo than I’d experienced back in Tuscany.
His desire seemed to match the pulse of the city, and I was here for it.
“Look at them,” he rasped against my ear. His fingers at my neck tightened the slightest bit. “All those people rushing around, never knowing how bellissima you’re going to look while I fuck you right here.”
I whimpered, and my hot breath fogged the glass as my thighs squeezed together. Matteo wedged his knee between my legs, forcing them open. His fingers dipped beneath the edge of my panties, and I gasped when he swiped at my wetness.
“Cristo,” he hissed. “You’re already dripping for me.”
His fingers rubbed up and down my tender center, then dipped inside of me. My hands were splayed wide on the glass that looked out on the city, but my gaze stayed fixed on the reflection of the man behind me. Matteo pumped in and out, watching my face.
“You drive me mad,” he murmured, his voice rough and his accent thicker than usual.
His fingers pulled out of me and stroked my swollen clit.
“Matteo…”
“Si, amore,” he whispered in my ear. “Tell me what you want.”
I swallowed. “You. I want you inside me.”
He sucked his way down my neck, teeth grazing along my sensitive skin, before nipping at my shoulder. I let out a mewl, and Matteo slipped one hand under my shirt, cupping my breast and tugging at my nipple.
The city bustled below, but up here, all I heard was ragged breaths and the thrum of my own pulse.
The clank of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper lowering might’ve been the sexiest thing I’d heard in a long time.
I trembled when he shoved his jeans to the floor, and I felt his hard cock push against me.
“Please…”
“You will never have to beg for what you want with me, Allegra.”
Matteo guided himself to my opening and surged forward, sliding into me in one deep thrust. He turned my head to the side and kissed me as he pumped in and out.
What started as slow and sensual quickly turned hard and fast. Matteo pulled out almost to the tip and then pushed back in, rough and deep.
When he reached around to rub my clit, I felt myself climbing toward orgasm.
“Matteo…”
I rocked with him, pushing back to meet each rhythmic thrust. Nothing had ever felt so good because Matteo wasn’t just inside me between my legs, he was filling my heart with hope and possibility.
Every moment, every whispered word against my skin chipped away at the walls I’d built around myself.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel afraid of what came next—I wanted it. I wanted him.
I moaned my way through my orgasm, saying his name over and over.
I was completely lost in the moment and completely lost to the man behind me.
Matteo kept going until long after the last quake had wrung through my body, and I had nothing left to give.
Only then did he work for his own climax, sinking deep and unloading inside me.
I could feel the heat of him seeping from the inside out.
After, I sagged against him, feeling boneless, my palms sliding down the glass and leaving handprints behind.
Matteo kissed the top of my head. “New York,” he said softly. “Maybe I love it now.”
***