While They Watch

by Khloe Summers

  Sensitive didn’t describe what I was feeling. I was overwhelmed, always tired, and no longer willing to process the nuance of her passive-aggressive behavior. Rage fizzed inside. She was more concerned with hitting on this guy than she was about what happened to me. I couldn’t take it any longer, my blood began stewing, popping underneath my skin the longer I bit my tongue.

  “She’s good at my house. Besides, I just had a bunch of her stuff delivered there. I have so much room,” Matteo interjected, as though he’d read my thoughts.

  Thankful for his timing, I grabbed my keys from the office and left for the night. Matteo followed.

  Chapter Seven

  Matteo

  It was hard for me, but I didn’t want to push. She’d been pushed enough already. I wanted to convince her that she was an anomaly — the type of person that didn’t come around twice in a lifetime.

  “So, what do you do for fun?” I asked, fully ready to involve myself in bathing kittens if it meant she’d smile.

  She furrowed her eyebrows in, “Besides the shelter?”

  “Yes, besides work, and the list of sexual exploits, though… if you’d like me to join in on that, I’d be happy too.”

  “That is a hobby I very much enjoy! Though, I’m also really into reading. Why do you ask?”

  “Are you reading anything good right now?”

  She didn’t like being put on the spot. Though, her beauty never dulled amidst her insecurity. “It’s a cheesy romance novel. ‘Kissing in the Shadows,’ I think is the title. Are you looking for a new book to read?”

  “No, but I wanted to do something together. Something you enjoy. So, let’s read!”

  “No, you don’t have to—”

  “I want to. I’ll download a copy now. We can sit out in the hammocks.” She blushed and looked away. I could tell she was unsure of how to react to the attention, but I wanted another reason to pull her close.

  “What chapter are we on?” I asked, waiting for the last five percent to download.

  “Oh, you can start from the beginning, but I’m mid-chapter eight. She snuggled into the opposite side of the hammock. Her bare legs now silky against mine, her tiny feet tucked under my arm. I wanted to reach out and touch her, run my hands over her skin as though we’d found the moment in time where we belonged to each other.

  “We’re reading together, so I’ll start there too. Catch me up on the details as we go.” I clicked sideways to find the spot and began reading, ignoring her soft gestures for me to stop.

  “Embers crackled in the fireplace as Liam approached, desperate for her body. He’d waited years to touch her softness, to feel her warmth. Finally, nothing would stop him. He reached over to calm her trembling limbs with his rough hands.

  “It’s okay, I’m here now,” he whispered, running his fingers down her spine. He tipped his head into the arch of her neck, getting lost in her sweet scent before trailing down to her breasts. Slowly… gripping each… nipple… in his… teeth…?”

  I stopped, quickly realizing why she hadn’t wanted me narrating. “Okay then, that might not be the best thing to read aloud,” I croaked, trying to control my growing erection.

  She giggled like a schoolgirl and buried her face in her book. “I warned you!”

  I’d loved her shy laugh from the moment I met her. The way her eyelashes danced and her lips parted slightly as she looked down to the right. She was unaware of her beauty, of the gentle aura she emitted wherever she was. I let my hand fall and graze her silky leg, looking up to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were wide, her head tilted, her bottom lip slightly pouted and agape. I continued, lightly stroking her skin in circles as I went on about nonsense—hoping she’d let me keep touching her.

  “Jaws one or two?”

  “Aren’t there like four Jaws movies,” she asked, clearing her throat.

  “Yeah, but the others don’t count.”

  “Don’t count? I guess between one and two… I’d say two.”

  “Two, who says two?” I whispered, not wanting to interrupt the symbiosis of the moment.

  She placed her hand on my leg, stretching her small hands along my inner thigh. Shocks drove through my body, sending every hair onto its end. “Who says one? The shark was way smarter in two. It heightened the suspense.”

  “No. You see the shark multiple times in Jaws two. The suspense comes from not knowing when he’s coming.”

  She lifted her curves off the hammock and back on again, her head now nuzzled into the crook of my arm. Her almond eyes focused on mine. “So, you like it when you don’t see things coming?”

  “Yeah… it adds to the suspense.”

  She leaned in, sweeping her lips with mine, softly prepping them for indulgence. Her hand moved to my bare chest, feeling each ripple of muscle as she made her way down to the edge of my shorts. I reached beneath her arm and pulled her in tighter. My lips now securely embraced with hers, tasting the sweet fruit she’d had for breakfast.

  She let her body move with the pace of our pleasure, slowly sliding on top of me. I’d tried not to go fully erect, wanting to maintain a sense of class. But, the soft lips of her pussy snuck from the edges of her panties as she twisted around on my core, leaving me helpless to any reaction my body had.

  I had to gain control before I lost it completely. I kissed her one last time, massaging her tongue with mine, caressing her neck slowly as I trailed up to her ear.

  “See how great things are when you don’t see them coming?” I whispered, “When your cravings and fears meet. It’s delicious.”

  Chapter Eight

  I had become a person I didn’t know. A person, I rather loved. Matteo’s lips tasted like lightning in a bottle, like dreams that found their way into the day.

  I ran a cool shower, freshening my skin with citrus before throwing a white dress on over the new bathing suit I’d purchased yesterday, after deciding to take a few weeks away from the shelter. My first vacation in thirteen years, one I needed desperately. At first, I’d struggled against the idea. However, Matteo convinced me that a few weeks off followed by some work from home as I finished up gala plans, would be best for my mental health as I healed from all that had happened.

  The truth was, I’d done enough thinking about Daniel and the guilt; enough worrying about Lyla and her illusions. Now, I was thinking about me. The me who wanted to live out fantasies and feel things. The me who liked a guy, who seemed to like me back.

  “Knock! Knock!” Matteo intoned, cracking the door a bit before entering. “Bella,” he gushed dramatically, putting his hand lightly on my hip. I love the way he touched me when I walked into a room. The way he noticed my presence as though I were the only one that mattered. His tender show of affection pulled me in, consoling me in ways I couldn’t explain, healing my broken heart faster than any therapy or carton of ice cream ever could.

  “Bella, to you too,” I joked, knowing I was using the word all wrong. He was wearing blue board shorts and a white tank top, his bulging arms highlighted by his dark skin. He looked up at me, playfully encouraging nonsense. Everything about him began to make me wet, and all I thought about was bringing up the list again, wondering what I could say to have him mention it organically.

  “I should make a list of the things we can do. I love lists,” I noted, accenting the word list as though that would be enough to get him there.

  “We know what we’re doing,” he stated, oblivious to my hint. “A full day on the yacht and a surprise!”

  “A surprise! What kind of surprise?”

  “A good kind of surprise,” he flirted, kissing my forehead. We wandered hand in hand out of the house and onto the white yacht. The sun burst down in streams of iridescent rays, reflecting the cold waters shine. Climbing our way to the top of the boat, we laid out on teak sun-loungers side by side, setting sail on the crystal-clear waters. Blue skies and sharp mountain tops spread on the horizon, the scent of shaved coconut,
and mai tai's circling in the breeze of our movement. Worried I would lose the nerve, I stood to remove my clothes. Revealing, the high leg one-piece halter I’d been hiding. The neckline plunged to my belly button, showing the sides of my ample breasts. I turned shyly, my pale skin accentuated by the red suit. Without looking at Matteo, I laid stomach down on the lounger, revealing my bare back, hopeful he’d notice the change. I waited, staring at the mahogany planks beneath the loungers, my heart thumping hard with anticipation. Silently begging him to approach me, touch me, take me.

  “Lotion?” he whispered, holding the bottle out for me to see.

  I nodded, laying my head flat, screaming inside at the thought of him rubbing my bare skin. Gently, he massaged the white cream onto my form. Soft and focused, his large hands rubbed and climbed my aching body, pawing and stroking in a circular motion with purpose up each of my legs and down again. Then, my back and neck, manipulating each tight muscle gently as he moved.

  “You want to flip over?” he offered, clearing his throat with desire. Without speaking, I turned my body, hoping he couldn’t tell how wet I was. Again, he started at the bottom and worked his way up my legs, brushing the inside of my thighs with his thick fingers. I wanted to spread myself, let him inside, but I resisted the urge. Silently, he pushed the lotion up my arms and onto my neck. At first, he was careful of where he was touching, trying not to dishonor me by his movements.

  With his body now at my head, he reached both hands down and pushed the lotion between my full, round breasts, past my belly button, and onto the top edge of my stomach. His fingertips grazed my slit. I arched my back in pleasure, hoping he wouldn’t stop. Without warning, he pulled the split halter away from my breasts and deeply sucked at my large, hard nipple, now purple with excitement. His other hand focused on still rubbing lotion into the back of my neck.

  “I can’t forget the other one,” he whispered playfully as he gently tugged away at the other side of my top. Standing over my body, he sucked each nipple in succession, reaching his hands down over the top of my bathing suit to tease the swelling lips of my pussy. I thought about who could see us and wondered if it was this that turned him on. The thought of someone catching us, someone else watching. My heart raced at the idea. I stood and removed what was left of my suit, letting it fall to the floor, exposing my soft pink shrine for his taking. A moment went by as he stared at my naked body against the high desert backdrop. His eyes had gone dreamy, the blood all rushing to his thick cock. I walked towards him and tugged at his shorts, then knelt in front of his solid form, playfully looking up into his eyes before grasping his penis with my hand, pumping it gently in my small fist.

  “Oh god…,” he moaned, as I pushed my soft full lips over his manhood. “Don’t stop!” The head of his dick danced with my tongue in a tango of pleasure until I took him deeper into my throat. “I have to have you,” he sighed, changing positions to prop my ass up on a bench like an animal against the afternoon sun.

  I was engorged, aching for his arrival, dripping with warm, wet static. His heat came closer, dipping into my pool head first, then full-body plunge. He thrust with the waves of the lake, first shallow, then deep, burying himself inside of me. Faster, then slower, pumping in and out against my round ass. His substantial body, pounding me at the edge of the boat as I struggled to keep steady. I tightened around him, focusing on the build-up of energy as he thrust. All at once, my body relaxed, releasing waves of euphoria up my spine and into my head.

  I screamed out, grabbing the metal rail. “Fuck! Oh, my fucking god!”

  He continued to pump, his excitement heightened by my wet screams. Then released, thrashing in the wetness before pulling out and falling onto the stiff boards of the boat —his dick, still rigid in the wind. I followed him down, grabbing a towel from the pile near our loungers. He sighed in pleasure, pulling me into the nest of his arm, cradling me against his chest.

  “Wasn’t expecting that,” he sighed, now tickling my arm slowly. He turned, kissing my forehead lightly, “And I thought the most exciting thing about today was going to be the private jet.”

  Chapter Nine

  We landed in Rome at 11:55 AM, rested, showered, and fed. Flying on a private jet is every bit as luxurious as I’d imagined. A private bedroom with a king bed and shower, mini bar, and swiveling, plush leather chairs with a theatre sized screen for entertainment. Parked beyond the plane was a black Mercedes. Erik exited first, checked the car, and loaded our luggage.

  “The tour first, sir?” he asked, looking fresh despite the long flight.

  “Yes, please…let’s start at the Roman Forum,” Matteo replied, guiding me by the small of my back towards the car. He looked like the most important man in the world, dressed in white linen slacks and a blue button-down that he’d tucked in slightly. His sunglasses, pouring mystery all over his robust and pleasant face.

  “How did this happen? Am I really here?” I asked, feeling as though this fantasy was just that — a dream.

  “You are… now what happens if I don’t take you back? You mine for good?” he joked, tickling at the back of my neck. I crossed my leg over his, catching his eyes for a moment as my thigh rubbed against the rich linen of his pants, then pulled my stare away, leaving him eager for more. Outside, Rome laid out like a book, desperate to share its story, but I didn’t care. I only wanted to look back at Matteo, desperate for whatever drug his aura was giving.

  I turned and caught his eyes, still staring in my direction. Without words, I leaned in, kissing him with closed lips that lingered until we felt the car stop. Erik had parked alongside an old shadowed building. The exterior chipping and worn by time. Matteo stepped out first, turning back to reach for me.

  “Have you spent a lot of time here?” I asked, firmly gripped in his hand — my yellow sundress flitting in the breeze under the warm Italian sun.

  “Not the tourist things. I spend the most time in the country, so I’m excited about all this too.” Suddenly, he fit in with his surroundings. His language now a blur of noise, as I walked through the crowds of sunbathed Mediterraneans. We strolled gently for hours, meandering along Sant'Angelo Bridge near the muddy Tiber River. Exploring the architecture of ancient ruins and churches while listening to street performers play flutes and guitars, all on a secret mission to tangle us together, to bring love and ambiance to the eternal city. “La vita è un sogno,” he whispered in my ear. The warm heat from his breath tickling my neck. “Life is a dream.”

  “It is now,” I answered, feeling warmth build between us. He’d found a way to be sweet and playful. Looking at me as though I were the most important woman that ever existed, while playfully flirting in beat with the day.

  “Typical tourist,” he joked, poking fun at my eyes as they darted around, mouth agape. I’d never been immersed in such history, such beauty. We continued down the shadowed alleys, soaking in the mood, getting lost on the slender paths, lined with moss and stone. Admiring the clotheslines hung outside tall, aged windows. We turned the corner and laid out in front of us, a stunning 18th-century plaza. Complete with baroque fountains, ornate churches, and construction of days long gone. Each crevasse, inviting pigeons and doves to nest in their edges.

  “You hungry?” he asked, gesturing towards a small sidewalk restaurant.

  I squeezed his hand gently, looking up at him as though he’d just asked me to marry him. “I’ve always wanted to eat at a sidewalk table in Italy!”

  He smiled, “Well then, we shall make dreams come true with pizza on a sidewalk!”

  We sat side by side on the edge of the piazza against a wall of green ivy climbing up the red brick — our little table wearing a red checkered cloth and a vase of violets. His arm neatly tucked around my shoulder. The two of us now snuggled inside the storybook, taking in dramatic, curving architecture as we listened to a man in a bowl hat play violin near a flower tent. All while eating our crispy, authentic pie, feeling something more than I’d ever fel
t before. Knowing it was dangerous to let myself get this invested. Knowing he was feeling it too.

  I wanted to blame it on hormones, ignore the drugged euphoria that encompassed me. But the truth was, if I’d been there with Daniel, I wouldn’t have heard the rich tone in the violins. Or smelled the fresh, earthy, basil feinting through the air. It would have been an interesting city, and he, just a man. A man that wouldn’t have thought to hold my hand or whisper sweet nothings in my ear as we wandered. With Matteo, the city came to life.

  The sun had gone down, and the moon shone bright before we arrived at the ranch. Only darkness and a few scant lights lit the landscape, making it impossible to see the property.

  “I’ll let you get settled in. I need to check the horses quickly. Help yourself to anything. Oh, this is Maria. Maria doesn’t speak much English.” He continued to trill a line of words I didn’t understand to Maria, then kissed my forehead. “I promise I didn’t tell her to throw you in the dungeon.”

  I smiled, letting my tired eyes lift slightly. Dungeon or not, I followed the short, stocky, olive-skinned woman through the dark house, excited for sleep, noticing how her beautiful dark hair and leathered skin looked against her coral housecoat. Candelabras dotted the hallways as we walked on the bold, ornate runner towards the bedroom.

  Dramatic lines framed the large room, painted in earthy tones that warmed the space. A stone fireplace sat adjacent to the king-sized bed, echoed by two tables on each side with matching gold lamps. Floor to ceiling windows sprawled on the furthest wall, I struggled to see the view with no luck.

  “Si?” Maria questioned, gesturing towards the room. I knew she meant yes, but I was unsure of the context.

  “Grazie,” I replied, thanking her for the help. Hoping that she meant, yes… this is your room.

  Matteo quickly finished with the horses and found me in the master suite, now showering in the glass enclosure.