“I worry,” he said, breaking the unnerving silence.
“I’m fine!” I insisted. “I am,” I repeated, softly.
“You need to come home,” he said a moment later.
“Why? You don’t need me there.” I hated to sound like a whiney brat but my father had a business to run. He was powerful in our small town and owned pretty much every single thing the sun touched.
“Let’s take a walk,” he said, his voice gruff.
We left the small coffee shop, heading out into the early morning light. The sweet fresh smell of the summer air wafted into my nostrils.
“I’m getting older, Marketa,” he said. He never called me by my nickname. “Your mom would want you home.”
“But my mom is not there to ask that of me,” I said, my voice monotone.
My dad stopped abruptly.
A crowd of people neared us in the busy rush of the morning. They separated, walking around my father while he stood there, scowling down at me.
People were scared of him. His dark eyes could pierce through a soul, knowing the secrets of your fantasies.
“Come here. Now,” he demanded.
His rough voice reminded me of Matteo and that sent a flutter racing through me. At my age, he still made me feel like a little girl.
I let out a heavy sigh.
Warm fingers pressed under my chin, tilting my head. My father gave me a small smile. “I worry about you. You are all I have left. Forgive me for being overprotective.”
“But I’m thirty-three—”
“You are still my baby. After…after everything that has happened, I want to keep you safe and you living thousands of miles away concerns me.”
“I can’t go back there,” I whispered.
“We’ll work something out. Now tell me, how did you meet this Matteo?”
Happy to get off the subject of me, I told him I met Matteo at Cello’s and how we had been dating for a week. I also told him Matteo was a gentleman but that didn’t seem to earn him any brownie points. My father was a hard man. Rough around the edges. Kind of reminded me of Matteo in a way.
I learned that my father was heading home the next day but promised to be back the following month. He made me promise him that if Matteo hurt me, to tell him.
“I will always find out, Marketa. Anything happens to you, I will know.”
My father’s words reined in my mind that night at work. I couldn’t focus on anything except for the two men in my life.
One wanted to protect me. Save me from all the evils of the world.
The other wanted to destroy me. In ways I couldn’t even begin to understand.
Matteo: Good morning, sweet girl.
Me: Good morning.
Matteo: Wanna grab lunch?
Me: Sure.
Matteo: Then answer your door.
I jumped out of bed, rubbing the grit out of my sleepy eyes.
Please tell me he has coffee.
Unlocking the door to my apartment, I opened it to a smiling Matteo. “Coffee?” I grunted.
He chuckled, handing me a steaming cup. “Not a morning person, are we?”
“Nope,” I answered, heading back to my bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.
“Coffee. Bed. TV. Remember?”
He only laughed and followed me to my room.
We had been dating for a couple weeks. Almost a month to be exact. Tension built up around us. Passion ensnared. But still nothing that I wanted. I enjoyed spending time with him. I was happy to sit and talk but since Nika interrupted us the last time, we hadn’t been alone long enough to do anything.
Matteo stood at my doorway, his eyes darkening. His nostrils flared.
Although I was tired and he had woken me up, my body became alive under his scrutiny. My skin hummed. This attraction between us grew as each day past. “Join me,” I whispered, my voice small.
He walked around my side of the bed and pinched my chin. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip before his fingers trailed down between my breasts. “So fucking tempting.” He pulled my shirt lower, exposing my breast.
My chest rose and fell with each breath. A moan escaped me when the rough calloused pad of his thumb brushed over my erect nipple.
His stare held me captive. A slight smirk spread on his face, knowing what he could do to me and I wouldn’t stop him. I could never stop him.
“We’ve been dating for almost a month, beautiful girl.” His thumb and forefinger pinched the peak.
I whimpered, a jolt of electricity shooting straight to my groin.