Taming the Tango Champion

by Cait O'Sullivan

  Matthias contemplated her, only to follow and stand close enough to hear her breathing. He could no more stay away from her radiated beauty than he could fly.

  * * * *

  Matthias trapped her with hawk-like eyes.

  “Very nice.” His expression left little doubt he was talking about the view. Dilating pupils heightened the gold flecks in his eyes and she lost herself as she drank her fill of him. An eternity later, he took her hand and led her through the hall, up the stairs and into a very masculine bedroom, dominated by the huge sleigh bed against one wall.

  Starved of oxygen, despite her rapid shallow breathing, her heart thumped harder. Dark lust glimmered from his uncompromising look. One hand came up to stroke her cheek as anticipation trapped the breath in her throat.

  “Bella, Ava, you are beautiful.” He whispered close to her ear and an invasion of goose bumps hardened her nipples. Eddies of desire swirled volts into her core. His warm lips came down on the corner of her mouth, teasing and tantalizing until she, spellbound, swayed into him to catch his lips.

  They were soft at first. Ava lost herself in the gentle pull and tug of his mouth. An involuntary mmm escaped her, and Matthias pulled her closer, twisting to press firmly against her. Firm muscles rippled beneath her fingertips, releasing another moan from deep within her throat.

  His hands entwined in her hair, the soft tug arousing her further and the kiss hardened and became more demanding, more frenetic. Ava flared into being, a molten mass lapping through her, stopping thought and leaving nothing but wanton need.

  Matthias slid his hands over her back, then gently pulled the zipper, allowing her dress to fall to her hips, exposing her smooth silk black bra. He ran his palms up her bare sides, cupping her breasts and rubbing his thumb over her thrusting nipples. In a deft movement, he unclipped her bra and stood back and admired her uncovered breasts, causing her breath to hitch.

  “You’re amazing.” He bent and tasted her neck and she tipped her head back, glorying in the passion sweeping through her. Matthias de Romero made her feel as though her body was his plaything, something to derive mutual pleasure from and the anticipation made her quiver. Never had she been more alive and in the moment.

  She shimmied out of her dress, leaving nothing but her simple black satin brief shorts. Matthias drew back to watch, and she heated as if he had touched her with warm hands. He pinned her with his gaze and pulled his shirt off, eyes glittering darkly as he gathered her in. The shock of his bare torso against hers sensitized her skin, transforming it into an erogenous zone. Suddenly nothing was more important than to feel his naked body against hers. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to feel the tautness of his broad chest, and pressed her lips to bare skin.

  Low moans rumbled her ears, and with renewed senses she realized the sound emanated from her own throat. No longer in control of her own body, she closed her eyes to be swept along with the torrent of emotions coursing through her.

  “Open your eyes.” The authoritative words compelled her to lift her eyelids, heavy with desire. He pulled back from her, breathing ragged. “Keep them open.” The command alone flooded her core with a deep sensuous tugging.

  In one fluid motion, he flicked his belt open and unbuttoned his trousers. Ava sat on the high bed to watch impatiently as he kicked the clothes from him. His hard flesh strained to be free of his boxer shorts and she slid a finger inside the band, to hear his quick intake of breath as her fingers skimmed his skin.

  Tugging on the waistband, she chased the shorts down his legs, stopping to kiss one strong thigh. They were even more beautiful than she had remembered, long and muscular, and shivers ran rampant through her. She ran her hands over his bare buttocks, loving the firm roundness, and let her hair swish against his silken cock. Her conscience looked on in askance, wondering where the hell this wanton woman had come from. But she didn’t care, emotions flooded through her, rendering her a slave to his command over her body.

  She breathed hot air over his rigidity, enjoying the instant twitch at the surge of blood. Ava took the shaft gently in her hand, savoring the feel, then tightened her grip, trembling at his body swaying toward her. The sound of his intensely whispered si, mixed seamlessly with the hot twist of excitement deep in her centre at the feeling of his thick manhood. That’s going to be in me soon. Despite being breathless, her tongue flicked out to touch the glistening tip and a shiver shot through her when his hands glided through her hair. She peeped at him, seeing the immense strain in his face as he watched her with hunger filled eyes.

  His hands moved to caress her shoulders.

  “Stand up.”

  His firm order sent quivers across her skin.

  With a reluctant last caress, Ava kissed her way up along the toned length of him, following her lips by pressing her breasts against his firm, fit body every inch of the way until she stood. By the time she reached his chest, her entire body tingled from contact. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her up to her full height.

  His erection strained against her belly, pressing into her flesh.

  “Look at me.” Forcing her eyes open, she stared into his velvety black ones.

  He ran his hands down her back, cupping her bottom and reaching between her legs to tantalize her with his fingers. In one smooth movement, he spun her around, her back against his chest, and held her firmly. Ava’s head sank back onto his shoulder. He took her invitation and pressed hot kisses down her neck. Hands smoothed up her side, lightly at first, then with more intent, cupping her breasts and squeezing, flicking her hardened nipples. Her legs trembled, her knees weakened and she dropped. Only for him to growl deep and support her with one arm around her waist. Heat radiated from him, melting her very being, wanting him deep inside. A rising tide commenced and her knees opened in a mute plea as he lowered them both to the bed. Someone moaned, but had no idea if it were her or him. At that point, it didn’t matter, she was lost and didn’t want to be found.

  She delighted in the hard edges that lust had etched clearly on his face. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were deep pools of desire. Not letting her look away, he reached a hand between her thighs, sliding a finger along her crease, murmuring as her folds parted easily in invitation. Shivers racked through Ava and she squirmed against his hand, a desperate attempt to find his elusive fingers.

  He withdrew a fraction to find her hard nub and pressed against it. Ava gasped and clutched his shoulders, pulling herself closer to his touch, one that wrought sensuous heat. He plunged two fingers inside her, in and out, fast then slow, again and again, driving her mad with need. Unconsciously, Ava writhed against him, pushing her warm wetness against the palm of his hand. The surging tide moved ever closer. She pulled back. There was only one thing she needed right now.

  “No.” She gasped, knowing her eyes sent a pleading to his dangerously black ones. “Not your hand, I want to feel all of you, deep, deep inside me.”

  His eyes smoldered. He kept his fingers inside her, and steadied her until she was lying underneath him.

  “Now dammit, I want you now.” Freedom flooded her as she uttered the words, and opened her legs wide to admit him. Dammit, he still pulled away from her, allowing cool air to sweep her body. She heard a ripping sound, then his heavy, all too welcome weight was astride her.

  “Beautiful.” His baritone voice resonated above her, and she quivered, raising her hips in a bid to feel his hardness all the way inside her.

  His touch almost unleashed the tide but she ignored it and pushed against him. He was there, at her entrance, teasing her exquisitely.

  Widening her legs, she forced her hips further up to be rewarded by an inch more of him, then suddenly, with a low groan, he was in her. Stroking her from the inside and despite her wetness, she could feel every inch of him as he moved deeper and deeper until he took her to the brink. And stopped. She yelped in frustration.

  “I said look at me.” The words were growled.

  Her jaw
clenched and she brought her eyes, which she was sure were lost with longing, to his. With one further thrust, he brought her back to the brink, withdrew nearly all the way and plunged deep into her. A breathless gasp emerged from her throat. Core muscles clenched harder and harder around him as his thrusts met her increasingly erratic hip movements. For the shift in pleasure was chaotic, drawing her ever in to a place she had never been and only he could find. Writhing around his hot cock, molten lava pitched from the tip of her toes and rushed toward her being to slam as one with him. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, but she didn’t care. Her muscles clenched one last time, culminating in an explosive shock, fireworks deep within. Collapsed against the blanket, each decreasing wrack of delight wrung their way through her. Matthias groaned loud, his thrusts coming faster and deeper until he impaled her, a guttural sound emanating from his throat and he shuddered and fell against her, his body slick with sweat.

  They breathed heavily together. With a low moan, Matthias pulled away from her and suddenly shy, she had to force herself to meet his eyes. He frowned as though he still ached with desire. A smile started deep in her belly, and Matthias rolled away. She let the smile soar in his direction. He rubbed his arm over his forehead, drying the sweat from his face.

  “You are one incredible lady.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” Was that her, purring?

  He watched her, an unfathomable expression in his eyes.

  But there was tenderness, and she was lost.

  Chapter 8

  The only thing she could hear was deep breathing, their hearts having slowed to normal pace.

  Although her soporific mood enticed her to sleep, Ava lay awake beside a comatose Matthias. Her thoughts persisted in rattling their cage. The chemistry between them was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Could they have a chance together? They had a daughter together anyway.

  Surely a man could only make love like that to someone with whom he had a deep connection. Could she allow herself to hope? This was Matthias de Romero, the man who had proclaimed his disbelief of love. But she believed in love. One of them was wrong—which one? Other, more pragmatic, thoughts begged for attention. How could they have a relationship anyway? They lived not just in different countries, but different continents for Pete’s sake. Notwithstanding what she had said to her mother about Matthias being a man of the mountains, could she ask him to move here? Perhaps six months here and six months there?

  Whatever happened, she was aware of a seismic shift within her, a realization that she wanted to make it work with him, come what may. Maybe it was time they talked.

  His arm around her became too heavy and she shifted to gently extricate herself. Her lips were parched and she took a quick glance around the room. Not seeing a drink, she slid out of bed.

  * * * *

  Matthias stirred and reached one arm to Ava while stretching the other languorously in the air. He loved these moments, coming out of a satiated slumber, his body already stirring both at the memory of what had gone before and at what was going to happen again. Sex with Ava was even better than he remembered; there was just something about her that got under his skin and magnified each and every emotion. Even thinking about it caused a low heat to simmer deep inside him. After their time in Argentina, he had thought he imagined the intensity of emotions felt when he and Ava were together. Now he knew if anything, his imagination had been on the weak side. She blew him away.

  He stretched further to her side.

  There was nothing but space.

  Like a bucket of water over his head, his senses woke and he heard quick steps in his hall.

  Non!

  Two strides across the room and he leapt down the stairs.

  Just in time to see his front door slam behind Ava, he strode to the door and opened it but the corridor was already empty.

  As he stood there, one of his neighbors came out of her apartment.

  “Lost something?” She cast a slow eye over him, heralding the realization of being buck naked. He only just held himself back from snarling.

  “No.” He backed into his apartment, slamming the door shut. What the hell was her problem? Had she some sort of problem with the aftermath of sex? Because she had been receptive and passionate, matched him orgasm for orgasm.

  He went to the bar, poured himself a shot of Chivas and threw it back.

  Now thinking about it, no answer had been forthcoming about why Ava left him in Argentina. Instead, he had been distracted by the news of having a daughter. His original plan had backfired spectacularly. Rather than getting the answers he needed, he was creating new questions. Rather, one question with two parts. And the longer he didn’t know, the worse it became. Of course, had he realized the flaw in his fabulous plan to get his own back on Ava, he would’ve—what? Not made love to her? Right. He could no more have kept his hands off her than he could fly. Yet how could he have left her lying there when they were in his flat? His subconscious had obviously known it was never going to happen.

  He pulled a toweling robe from the airing cupboard and put it on, then walked to the balcony doors and opened them. The sounds of the night gently approached him, the hum of the city home to seven million people. Lights on in high-rise towers, hard-working folk still at their desks, lovers tiffs, it was all happening somewhere in the city.

  Frustration burned. Perhaps the answer lay within him, rather than Ava. His response to the way she treated him was maddening, and certainly something never felt before meeting her. Out of his depth. Beyond his control. Even early days with Beatriz he had control over the relationship. Matthias de Romero always called the shots.

  Now Ava was. Loud and clear.

  The balcony bore his weight while he absentmindedly regarded the river traffic.

  A small sprig of green unfurled in his heart and he acknowledged it with a palpable jerk.

  Love. It was love. He loved Ava.

  He recoiled from the balcony as though it burned him. Yet he couldn’t escape this insight. It explained everything—the delicious sex, his intense frustration over her not doing what he expected. He couldn’t control her because his emotions were too deeply entwined with her happiness. The last few hours of this day had been great, her company and watching her relax and enjoy herself had warmed him from the inside out.

  Complications crowded into his head thick and fast. Could he perhaps un-realize his love? Life was easier without love. A conversation he and Ava had in Argentina flashed through his mind.

  “I guess though, living with your Maman would scare off any prospective partners.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that either.” He had seen her pull her full bottom lip between her teeth. “You are right. But Maman lives in a separate wing. Plus she’d love to see me get married and start producing grandkids for her to play with. A built in babysitter.”

  “Are there any would-be wives in the wings?”

  In hindsight, he remembered her deep contemplation of the river streaming past.

  “No, and if I have anything to do with it, there won’t ever be. I don’t believe in marriage.” From the corner of his eye, he had seen her eyes flicker over him and he’d trotted out his oft spoken speech, ignoring his heart turning over. “Women and men cannot stay faithful to each other. It’s not possible.” He’d shrugged when she turned to watch him, a blank expression in her eyes. “What? You think it is?” He snorted a laugh, trying to swallow it as hurt flashed briefly in her face. He could still recall exactly how she had responded.

  “I do, actually. I think if two people love each other enough, they will make it work together. What about children? Do you not want them?”

  Her words, then as well as now, had shot a knife-like edge through his veins. He’d ignored it and had come out with his lumbering reply.

  “No. This world is brutal enough without bringing some poor, innocent child into it. Trust me, Ava, life is much simpler without the baggage of a partner or the hassle of
an infant dependent upon you. You only need trust yourself. Similar to you travelling on your own. You said yourself, it’s much simpler, no?”

  She’d lifted one shoulder to hide her expression.

  “Yes it’s simpler, but it’s not something I would care to do for the rest of my life.”

  “Ah, let me guess, you are a romantic. You believe in one love, children and a happy family?” He’d tried but couldn’t keep bitterness from his voice. He had once believed the same thing. He harrumphed to himself, both then and now. So much for that.

  Ava had raised her chin and met his eyes, steely determination turning them grey.

  “Well, bella, you just keep on believing. The world needs romantics like you. For me, I’d prefer to believe what I know to be true.”

  She had half-turned to her other side, presenting her shoulder to him. Frustrated, he’d stopped their horses until she met his eyes. “What’s up?”

  Ava had tilted her head and had made a moue. “Nothing, I guess.” She exhaled deeply with her words. Without thinking, he’d picked up her hand and dropped a kiss in her warm palm.

  Even then he’d been falling in love with her, had been aware of the effect his words had on her and felt sorry. He had simply chosen not to acknowledge it. No wonder she had been reluctant to tell him about Bella too, following the total basura he had come out with. Just a boy, playing with the world rather than a man connecting with it, riding the downs and enjoying the ups.

  Now he knew how he felt, what was he going to do about it? For Matthias de Romero did not enjoy being spurned, now even more so.

  Harsh reality flashed in front of him, a neon sign.

  He loved Ava, but she didn’t love him. Dio, she didn’t think him fit to be a father.

  They had a child together.

  But hell if he could trust her. Facts were facts. She had run out on him twice and hadn’t seen fit to tell him he was the father of her child.

  He had been a proud man throughout his life. Inside, he poured another shot of whiskey. He had faced facts, the first step in getting over them. His frustration morphed to anger. He probably didn’t really love her. It was only she had run out on him again. Si—twice.