Grinch Reaper

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Grinch Reaper Page 12

by Donna Michaels


  Bella bit her lips but he still heard her snicker. He glanced down at the black scarf with red reindeer and tried desperately to think of a way to take it off and leave it without offending the poor lady.

  “Look how great that goes with your coat, Matteo,” Bella said, with a grin. Damn woman was enjoying his discomfort way too much. “Such a generous gift. Thank you, Franny. I’m sure he’ll treasure it.”

  The trick was going to be keeping him from tossing it away once they got upstairs.

  “And I’ll treasure seeing him wear it every day.” Franny clapped her hands, her blue gaze warm and over bright with tears. “You remind me of my grandson, Patrick.”

  Ah, hell. She had to bring tears into it, and play the grandson card. Now he had to wear it. He couldn’t deliberately break the old woman’s heart.

  Matteo cleared his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.” Sweat was starting to break out on his temple. “If you’ll excuse us, we have to go.”

  He grabbed Bella’s hand and practically dragged her into the hall, and didn’t stop until they were upstairs, standing outside the apartment door. “Sorry.” He released her hand and smiled. “I was on decoration overload. Besides, I’m starved.”

  She smiled back. “Me, too.”

  “Let’s hope they left us some.” He chuckled as he opened the door. There was a good chance they were too late.

  “There you two are. I was wondering what happened…to…” Knight’s words halted and he blinked before dividing his gaze between them.

  Something in his face must’ve conveyed his reluctance to discuss the atrocity around his neck, because neither of them mentioned the scarf on the coat he quickly shed and tossed across the room onto the couch.

  “Any pizza left?” Bella asked, shrugging her coat off and setting it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

  Brooke nodded. “Yeah, we left you a half a pie.”

  He snorted. “Good thing I brought two.” Or there’d be nothing left. Matteo chuckled pulling a chair out for Bella.

  A shaft of warmth spread through her gaze. “Thank you.”

  “It’s probably cold by now,” Knight said.

  “That’s okay.” He sat next to her and smiled. “Bella and I like cold pizza.” They’d practically lived off it as kids.

  While they ate, the other two remained by the computers and filled them in on the day’s un-excitement. Not only were they watching feed on the building across the street, they now had access to Simpson’s mansion.

  “Nothing exciting happened at either place today,” Knight informed in a dull tone. “The guys across the street mostly read or played handheld video games. And when they left, it was to meet Paresh for lunch at your shop, Matteo. Then they walked the boardwalk for an hour before Paresh went home, and the other two returned here.”

  Made no sense. They had to be missing something.

  “And Simpson’s place?” Matteo asked, reaching for the final slice of pizza the sweet woman just set on his plate.

  “Nothing much. He was at work most of the day.” Brooke nodded to another monitor with feed of a darkened office.

  Bella grinned. “You’ve been busy.” Envy ricocheted through her expression. “You snuck into his executive office at the casino.”

  Admiration washed through him. A huge challenge. One he got the impression she would’ve loved to have been in on.

  “I had time to waste during lunch,” Brooke replied. “Besides, you were off doing laundry.”

  Knight turned to stare right at Bella. “Must’ve been a big load. Is that why you were late?”

  Bella shrugged. “I would’ve been here sooner, but traffic was murder.”

  Odd. He hadn’t encountered too much on his way over, and he’d only arrived ten minutes before her.

  “I wasn’t all that late,” she said. “Matteo and I were downstairs helping one of the tenants with her cat. She was sweet. And grateful. She gave poor Matteo that scarf to wear, and expects to see it on him all the time.”

  He shifted in his chair. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Well, I think it’s cute.” She grinned, getting up to clear the table.

  Cute was not the word he would choose. He rose to his feet and helped, before walking over to the monitors and gripping the back of an empty chair. Unease settled over his shoulders, while anger heated his blood. These men hurt his father, and now they were planning an attack in his city.

  “Does Simpson have any ties with Russia?” Bella asked out of the blue.

  He reeled back and turned to face her, along with Knight and Brooke.

  She raised a brow. “What? It’s a hunch.”

  Knight narrowed his gaze. “Hunch, my ass. But I’m guessing you can’t talk about it, so thanks for the tip.”

  She nodded. “And thanks for the pizza.” Her gaze met his as she reached for her coat. “I have to go, but if you need company later, just knock.”

  Understanding softened her gaze, and he knew that wasn’t a sexual proposition. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with friendship, and the fact it was a hard day because of the loss of his mother.

  Touched by her unexpected show of concern and that she’d expressed it in front of an audience, he stepped close to help her into her coat, and to touch her, needing the physical connection to solidify the emotional one flowing between them.

  His feelings for her increased—if that were possible—and Matteo knew his days of fighting their connection were over.

  He loved her. And soon he was going to tell her. And show her. And beg her forgiveness for the past…and for Rasheed.

  But for now, he’d have to settle for squeezing her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, turning her to face him. “I appreciate it.”

  A warm smile eased across her face. “I’ll see you later.”

  Count on it. He nodded and forced his hands to release her. But only physically because she still had a grip on his thoughts long after she’d left. And after an hour and half of phone calls and back-tracking paper trails that yielded nothing extra, he rose to his feet and stretched the kinks out of his back.

  “Go home, Reaper,” Knight said, getting up to put on another pot of coffee. “There’s nothing pressing going on. Brooke and I can handle the surveillance. Go get some rest. You look beat.”

  He suddenly felt drained. “Will do,” he replied, shoving his coat on, too tired to even give a shit about the festive scarf around his neck.

  All he knew was he had to see Bella, and the urge had nothing to do with any fear for her well-being. In fact, it had to do with his. But first, he needed to make a stop. One he’d been putting off all day.

  An hour later, he sat in the car and stared at his house. It was dark, unlike most of the others on his street. Festive lights adorned porches and trees and yards in a show of holiday cheer. Even Bella had a wreath on her door and lights wrapped around her porch railing, and she’d suffered a hell of a lot more losses over the years than he had, and yet, she still celebrated.

  His yard reflected his cheer. He had none. What little he’d ever had had died with his mom. She was the one with all the cheer. Hell, his dad had always joked she’d had enough for the whole family.

  God, he missed that. He missed her. Guilt clawed at his gut and weighed heavily in his chest for not coming home more often. His fault. An airplane could’ve gotten him back to base in time if he’d been called up. And the worst part was he could fly, he just never bothered to go through testing to get his license. There were a lot of things he’d never bothered to do that he’d wanted. It was time to change that because regrets sucked. And he refused to have any more—starting with Bella.

  He glanced at her house.

  If you need company later, just knock.

  Her invitation drifted through his mind. Lord knew he wanted to take her up on it, but it was late. Later than he’d expected to get home. He’d sat by his mother’s grave a lot longer than planned.

  With a sigh, he got out of
his car and ordered his feet to head home, but somehow, he ended up in front of Bella’s door. Christ, he didn’t even remember knocking, but he must have, because it opened, and without a word, she smiled and stood aside to let him in.

  Chapter Twelve

  God…Matteo was so damn good-looking it almost hurt to look at him. Those dark eyes that normally held his emotions and secrets in check had been nothing but open and full of heat and longing and need since he’d returned.

  All week long, she’d fought an inner battle to give in to her long-suppressed feelings for him again, while the survivor in her said hell no, not again.

  But it was getting tougher to resist every day. Especially when he looked at her like she was his everything—the look she’d fantasized about seeing for years—the one he gave her right now.

  Damn. A tremor shivered down her spine. He made it so hard to look away.

  So she didn’t.

  “You okay?” She helped him out of his coat without asking, and set it on the back of a chair.

  The way he’d sat in his car, staring at his house for the past fifteen minutes, cracked her heart wide open. She tried to force herself to stop watching him, but nothing made her move. Not until he’d gotten out and walked to her. Sought her out. He came to her. Not the other way around, as it had been in the past.

  He wanted her. Needed her.

  Her stomach fluttered at the thought. But she wasn’t sure that was a good idea, nor was she thinking straight, so she didn’t exactly trust her thoughts.

  She was just going to have to go with her instincts.

  He reached for her, gripping her hips as he slowly drew her closer. “I’m better now.” Setting his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and let out a long, deep breath, and she felt his whole body relax against her. “Much better.”

  Her hands automatically went to his chest. He was wonderfully warm and hard beneath her palms. This was probably not a good idea, but he opened his eyes and her misgivings disappeared under the warm, delicious intent in his gaze as he slowly lowered his head.

  He brushed one corner of her mouth with his lips, and then the other, and nibbled and tasted in between. A soft sound rolled in her throat, and she clutched at his shirt, her whole body shaking in anticipation. Then he sealed his mouth to hers and slowly, thoroughly, kissed the strength from her limbs.

  The other kisses she’d shared with him had been amazing, but this one…this was different. More. Fuller. Stronger. It was everything she’d always imagined, and more. Everything she wanted. And better.

  Everything he should’ve given her long ago.

  All the insecurity and pain from the past crashed through her. She broke the kiss and stepped back, needing to find her equilibrium, which was in no way, shape, or form near that man.

  “Bella?” He reached for her, but she backed away.

  “I…that felt…” She sucked in a breath and shook her head. “I can’t go there again, Matteo. You left me. God, that hurt. What you were just giving and asking…I can’t open myself up to that again.”

  “What is it you’re afraid of?”

  Her chest was squeezed so tight with remembered pain her voice was barely above a whisper. “That I’ll let you in, give you everything…then you’ll leave me again.”

  There would be no surviving it a second time. Hell, she’d barely managed it the first time around and they’d never even kissed.

  Stepping close, he thrust his hands into her hair and cupped her head. “I’m done running, Bella. I swear it. I’m done running…unless it’s to you.” Intense and fierce, his gaze matched the conviction in his tone, and heaven help her, she felt both to the deepest depths of her darkened soul.

  “I want to believe you.” Okay, she did believe him, but dammit, she was scared.

  His thumb lightly skipped over her cheek. “I was a fool to leave you before, and God, I’m so sorry I hurt you. But I promise, I will never do it again, baby. I’ll never willingly leave you again.”

  Then he was kissing her with equal conviction, sweet and sincere, then hot and intense, embodying everything she felt for him, and from him all these years. And Bella was lost. Totally and irrevocably lost. And she didn’t care. She deserved this. Wanted this. Dammit, she’d waited a lifetime for this man. She couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of Matteo, not now that he wasn’t holding back either.

  Without breaking the kiss, he backed her up until she felt the living room wall behind her, and then he pressed into her and changed the angle of the kiss. It was a hot, intense tangle of tongues and hunger and needy sounds that echoed around and through them. He kissed her again. And again. And again. And he didn’t stop until she was completely and utterly one hundred percent upside down and inside out.

  When he finally broke the kiss, she took a second, or maybe a minute, before she opened her eyes. His gaze was deliciously dark and heated, and a sexy, dangerous grin tugged his lips. “We’re doing that again.”

  “Damn straight,” she uttered, with a matching grin, reaching up to shove her hands in his hair and hold him still while she brought her mouth to his and kissed him until they were both starved for air.

  Sucking in a breath, he set his head against hers and muttered an oath, “We’re probably going to kill each other.”

  She laughed, in total agreement. “I know. But what a way to go.”

  Then they lunged for each other again, and they were kissing, and removing shirts in a flurry of movement. He drew back to stare at her standing in her black bra, no shoes, and jeans with the top button undone. By him.

  She smiled and ran her finger down his ridges and muscles, loving how his abs quivered under her touch. “You need to lose these,” she said, unzipping his jeans and tugging them down, taking everything underneath with it, springing him free.

  She knew he had great inches. She’d felt it, seen bulges, but the real, raw deal was magnificent.

  “Bella.”

  She took him in her hands and he thunked his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, but when she covered the tip with her mouth, his eyes snapped open, and a raw, primal, need consumed his gaze.

  He grabbed her shoulders and drew her to her feet. “My turn.”

  In a matter of seconds he had her stripped of her jeans, and his fingers underneath the straps of her bra, tugging them down her arms, until she bounced free. His chest rose and gaze heated as he watched her breasts bounce in place. “Beautiful,” he murmured, before dipping down to cover one of her nipples with his mouth, while he brushed his thumb over the other. She moaned and cupped both his head and his hand as they worked to drive her completely mad.

  “Matteo,” she gasped, when he changed sides and sucked the other nipple into his mouth.

  Then his hands slid down her body, stroking and teasing, slipping his fingers under the edge of her panties, ripping a breathless, needy sound from her throat as he brushed the parts that ached for him the most. But then he moved his hand to grasp the black lace and tug it off her body.

  He sucked in a breath and stared up at her. “God, Bella, you’re beautiful.” His gaze was full of heat and adoration, and she shook from the intensity of his emotions.

  Starting at her calves, he ran his hands up her legs, over the curve of her hips, and brushed the sides of her breasts as he stood. Then his hand moved to her neck, while he pressed a path of hot open-mouthed kisses up the other side of her throat to her lips. The feel of his bare chest brushing hers sent a wave of heated sensation all the way down to her toes.

  Looking into her eyes, he drew back and stroked his thumb lightly over her lower lip. “I want to hold you and taste you and make you want only me.”

  She glided her hands up his sides. “Matteo, I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  A look of fierce, primal emotion flared in his eyes a second before he captured her mouth for a deliciously thorough, deep, branding-type kiss. Moaning, she rocked into him, but he released her and drew back to sweep her off her feet and car
ry her into the hallway.

  “Which door?” he asked, in a voice as strained as her breathing.

  “End of the hall.” When she’d moved back in two years ago, she’d taken over her grandmother’s old room because it had a bathroom attached. She had every intention of making good use of that bathroom with Matteo tonight.

  He set her on the bed, and explored her body, making her gasp as heat and need collided inside her. Bella could barely breathe, couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, he had her quivering with need, shivering with goose bumps while heat scorched her veins.

  Damn, adrenaline had nothing on Matteo.

  She must’ve made some kind of sound because he stopped and glanced up from where he’d been grazing his spectacular, silky, soft bearded jaw against her inner thigh.

  “You doing okay?”

  She reached down to slide her hands into his hair. “Yes, keep going.”

  He chuckled and lowered his face back to her leg, where he kissed and licked and nipped until he had her squirming and gasping and swearing when he stopped just below her very best parts. She opened her eyes and met his gaze.

  Her heart rocked and slipped into place at the emotion there, fierce, raw, unspoken but as real as the beat of her heart. She opened her mouth to say—who the hell knew what—but then he lowered his head again, and brushed her center with his lips.

  “Matteo—” She tightened her grip on his hair, needing him to…needing more.

  “I know.” His breath was warm and erotic on her sensitized flesh. “I know, baby, but I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’m not rushing this. I want to savor—”

  His hands slid over her body, while his mouth teased, just on the edge. Just out of reach.

  “Matteo,” she ground out, aching and needing more.

  Another chuckle vibrated through him, but he brought his hands down to help drive her mad, so she decided not to maim him. He spread her legs and sucked in a breath. “Gorgeous.”

 

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