Could he?
Licking his lips, he leaned down and slowly, carefully kissed her. It was soft and sweet, but it held so much power, unlike any kiss Genna had ever experienced before. He kept her locked in place, in total control, and she easily, willfully, succumbed to his touch, surrendering in his hands.
He pulled back much, much too quickly. Genna opened her eyes just as he did, meeting his intense gaze. After a moment, he took her hand, barely giving her enough time to grab her things before leading her away. He pulled her out the front door of the sport's bar as the sun started to set in the distance.
Where the hell had the day gone?
Before Genna could dwell on that, he opened a door right next to The Place and pulled her inside, toward a dark staircase.
"Where are we going?" she asked, brow furrowing as they started up the shabby steps. Ugh, had they ever been swept?
"My place."
"Your place?"
"Yeah."
"Your place is above The Place?"
He laughed. "Yes."
She blinked a few times. "You drive a Lotus yet you live above a bar?"
That made no sense.
None at all.
The moment he unlocked the door and pulled her inside the apartment, her eyes widened in surprise. It definitely looked better than she had expected. This place was clean, with plush furniture and glass tables. A black pool table stretched along the back wall, the bright blue felt matching a rug covering part of the living room floor.
Genna turned to face him when he shut the door, but she had no time to say anything at all. With no hesitation, he was upon her, lips feverishly meeting hers as he pulled her further into the apartment. This kiss was hard, frantic and passionate; it was nothing like the sweetness he'd shown her downstairs. She tried to keep up, but Matty was a force to be reckoned with.
A haze of alcohol and lust surrounded them, spurring them on. Genna wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tighter to her, desperate to feel more of him. His hands roamed her body, caressing skin, shoving her skirt up around her waist. Her breath hitched as a hand slid beneath her panties, fingers grazing her sensitive clit. Knees wobbled and vision blurred just from a simple touch of his hand, but she didn't have a chance to savor it.
Zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.
Her clothes were hastily discarded, a trail of unwanted material through the apartment as he dragged her over to the pool table. Grasping her bare thighs, he picked her up, setting her on the edge of it. She clung to him, drawing him closer as he fumbled with his belt. He got his pants unbuckled as she worked on his white button down, popping buttons as she tore it open. He yanked it off, throwing it to the floor, leaving him with just a white undershirt.
Genna didn't bother with it, not wanting to break the kiss, her hands stroking his strong biceps and running down his forearms, feeling his inked skin. He tore a condom open that he fished out of his wallet, discarding the gold wrapper on the floor so he could quickly roll it on. Genna wrapped her slim legs around his waist, desperate for friction, as he grasped a hold of himself and pushed inside of her.
The first thrust, hard and deep, elicited a gasp from her throat.
Oh shit.
She never got a chance to catch her breath.
Gripping her hips, firmly holding her there, he pounded into her over and over again, as she cried out from the sensation, her voice strangled. She lay back on the table, her body tingling, throbbing starting between her thighs as he hitched her legs over his shoulders to drive even deeper. There was never any let up, never any wavering with his brutal thrusts.
Matty was a fucking machine.
She could do nothing but take what he gave her, accepting all of him eagerly, her nails scratching his skin as she held on for dear life. He drove her to the edge, violently shoving her off of it as his name resounded from her lips, a barely contained scream that fractured as it escaped her throat. Matty.
The sound only seemed to drive him on, encouraging him to give her even more. Again and again he took her to the brink.
I like to keep them coming.
Christ, he hadn't been kidding.
His hand encircled her throat, gripping gently to pin her in place, the light pressure at the base of her neck sending a thrill through Genna's body. She had never had someone take total control over her, had never submitted so willingly to a touch. It was dangerous—so, so dangerous—but she'd never felt such a rush of adrenaline.
Fuck cars.
This… this was everything.
Eventually it got to be too much—too much pressure building and building, too much pleasure, too much everything. Overwhelming tears stung her eyes when she felt another orgasm bubbling up inside of her. He seemed to sense it. Was it something in her voice, the way she whimpered, crying out his name in a choked breath? Or could he feel it, attuned to her body like it was an extension of his? She wasn't sure. Either way, he backed off, dropping her shaky legs as he carefully slowed his movements and let go of her throat.
Leaning down, his lips found hers again, kissing her softly as he continued to push inside of her. His mouth slowly moved, exploring her skin before nuzzling into her neck, teeth lightly nipping at her flesh. Her hands slid beneath his undershirt, nails scraping the skin of his back as he thrust a few more times before grunting as he came.
Still deeply inside of her, he pulled his face back to look in her eyes. She panted heavily, trying to find her breath. The spot between her thighs, the place they were connected, terribly ached.
He hadn't been kidding about that, either.
His thumb grazed her lips, slightly swollen from his hard kisses, as a smile softened his expression. "I didn't think you could be more beautiful," he said, "but then you went and screamed my name."
Blush radiated down her body, originating in her cheeks and coating every centimeter of exposed skin, as he finally pulled out. Genna felt the loss instantly when he backed away, clenching her thighs together to stifle the void. He grabbed her hands, pulling her off the pool table and setting her back on her feet, but instead of letting go he drew her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her.
He was holding her.
The sensation startled her, as he stroked her hair, petting her lovingly as she snuggled up against his chest, smelling his cologne and feeling his warmth.
She'd never had someone hold her before.
She remained silent when he finally let go, grabbing her clothes and quickly slipping them on as he situated himself. He disappeared into another room—his bedroom, she assumed—and returned after a moment looking just as put together as he had been when she first saw him.
Her? Well… she was scared to encounter her reflection.
"You want something to drink?" he offered, casual and polite, as if he hadn't just fucked her brains out, leaving her a quivering mess. She watched him as he strolled to the small open kitchen, her gaze settling on a clock on the wall.
A quarter after nine at night.
She blinked rapidly. Shit.
She'd missed dinner.
"I should really be going," she said, trying to smooth her hair. "It's getting late."
Matty grabbed two bottles of water from his refrigerator before approaching her, holding one out. "You're not just trying to get away from me, are you?"
"No, of course not," she said quickly, grabbing the water. "It's just that, well, I should've been home hours ago. My father—"
"I get it," he said, cutting her off. "The 'send out a search party' type."
She smiled, grateful he seemed to understand, as she opened the water and took a sip, the coldness soothing her gritty throat. She screwed the cap back on and grabbed her purse and shoes as she headed for the door. He walked her out, right on her heels as she descended the dark staircase, trying to pull herself together. Deep breaths, she thought. Don't go spastic now. But she couldn't help it. Her legs were like jelly, her heart still racing, her fingers trembling as she clutched tigh
tly to her things.
The guy had knocked her world off its axis, and she was pretty fucking sure there was no fixing that.
Barefoot, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and glanced around cautiously. For the first time all night, the fact that she was in Soho seemed to really nag at her. Enemy territory. After dark, at that. The neighborhood was foreign, and all she'd encountered were friendly faces, but she knew deception often hid behind the kindest smiles. Psychopaths ran these streets, and maybe she wouldn't know any of them, but they'd certainly recognize her.
Her father had warned her of that over the years, one of the many things he'd pounded into her brain, something that seemed to just now sink in as she came down from her high of such an outrageous day. Music and belligerent shouting spilled out from The Place, the bar much rowdier than it had been just a bit ago. Any one of those voices could lead to her demise.
"I shouldn't try to drive," Matty said. "But I can get my brother to take you home. He should be hanging out around here by now."
"It's okay," she said, turning to him. "I can take a cab."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. Besides, I mean, it's kind of early to be meeting the family, isn't it? Not that, well, we're ever going to get to that point, or that you want that, or anything…" She was rambling again. Ugh. "I'm just saying, you know…"
Did he know? She scarcely knew what the hell she was saying. She'd had plenty of boyfriends, none of which she had ever brought home to meet her father, but he always seemed to find out about them and scare them off, anyway.
But this one?
Genna wasn't sure anything could intimidate him.
Matty stepped toward her, his hands once again cradling her head, a serious expression on his face that silenced her blubbering, that calmed her fears. Slowly, he leaned toward her, pressing a soft, chaste kiss against her lips.
"That's what I want," he said quietly. "What I get for winning."
"What?"
"You."
"You had me," she whispered, cheeks flushing at the reminder.
"I did," he agreed. "But the past isn't what matters. I live in the present, Genna. I live in the now. I had you, yeah, but what I want is to have you."
The way he spoke intensely, so assuredly, left her frazzled. "We hardly know each other."
"So? We spent an hour together this morning trapped in a box with no way out. And you know what I realized that hour?"
"What?"
"I kind of liked a world where it was just you and me." He kissed her again before letting go and stepping to the curb to hail a cab. The yellow car swiftly pulled up, screeching to a stop right in front of them. Matty opened the back door for her as he held out his hand. "Let me see your phone."
She dug it out of her purse and handed it over to him. He quickly typed something into it before handing it back as she got into the back of the cab.
"I put my number in it," he said, leaning in the door. "If you decide you want me, too, you let me know."
He shut the door before she could find the words to respond. The cab pulled away from the curb, infusing right into the evening Soho traffic. "Where to, miss?"
"Westchester County," she replied, rattling off her address north of the city as she settled back into the seat.
Sighing, she opened her contacts on her phone and found his right away.
Matty B
Pressing the phone to her chest, she bit down on her lip to contain her smile, unable to compress the emotions whirling inside of her that the sight his name alone elicited. Was it possible to fall for someone in just one day? Possible to have your heart stolen after only a mere few hours of knowing them? She certainly never thought so. But yet she felt it then, the stirring in her gut and the tightening of her chest that hinted at something more already, something much bigger than her. It was undeniable, irresistible. She was head over heels, unabashedly swept off her feet by Matty-B.
She groaned. Insta-love. How fucking cliché.
Genna made it home just after ten o'clock, pushing open the front door and cautiously glancing around. The house was quiet and dark, except for a dim light spilling out from the dining room. She crept that way, pausing in the doorway as she frowned.
The table had long ago been cleared from dinner, the staff gone for the night, food all put away, yet her father still sat in his chair, a single glass with a swallow of wine in front of him.
"Genevieve," he said, voice quiet—he knew she was there without even looking. His gaze slowly shifted from the empty table to her. "You missed dinner."
Sighing, she stepped into the dining room and approached him. "Sorry, I had a crap day."
His eyes surveyed her. "You look it."
She glanced down—dirty bare feet, wrinkled clothes, sweat-coated skin—and snickered. "Yeah, I'm kind of a mess."
"Yet you're laughing," he pointed out.
"It's been one of those days where that's really all you can do… laugh."
His expression shifted, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he continued to survey her. "Who is he?"
"Who?"
"The boy you were with," he said. "Who is he?"
Genna gaped at him. "How did you…?"
"I know that look, Genna. There's only one thing that makes a girl look that way."
"He's, uh…" It unnerved her when her father did that, reading her with just a look. "He's just a boy I met this morning."
"Does he have a name?"
"Matty."
"Matty," he echoed. "How very... American."
She laughed again. "Actually, for your information, he's Italian-American."
Primo looked pleasantly surprised. "How'd you meet?"
"We shared an elevator," she replied, stepping toward him to lightly kiss his cheek. "Now, if you're done interrogating me, I'd like to take a shower and get some sleep. I'm exhausted."
He waved his hand, wordlessly dismissing her.
"Oh, by the way," she said as she walked away. "You're going to have to have someone pick up my car tomorrow."
"Where is it?"
"At the courthouse. The judge suspended my license."
"And you didn't drive your car home?"
"No." She looked at him incredulously. Didn't he hear? "I couldn't."
He eyed her peculiarly. "Curious."
"What?"
"Well, you've never really let that stop you before. You were driving cars years before you even had a license. This new boy of yours must be special."
"Yeah," she admitted, before adding in a whisper, "he just might be."
She hit the doorway when he spoke again, his voice so quiet she could barely hear. "You look like her. When you smile, you look so much like her."
Genna glanced back at her father, watching as he picked up his glass, his eyes focused on the blood red wine. He wasn't watching her, his words meant more for himself than anyone, but she gave her father a small smile anyway. "Goodnight, Daddy."
Matty stood along the curb and watched the taillights of the cab disappear into the darkness before he turned around to head into The Place. As soon as he opened the door and stepped into the busy bar, dozens of sets of eyes zeroed in on him like the scope on an assault rifle, eagerly waiting for his acknowledgment. They hadn't dared approach him earlier when he had company.
They knew better.
Sighing, he strode over to the bar, squeezing in along the side and tapping his hand against the hard, glossy wood. The bartender glanced over at him with a subtle nod, setting straight to work making him a drink. "Your friend leave?"
"Yeah, she needed to get home."
"Ah," he said. "She a close friend?"
Matty cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that any of your business?"
"No, of course not," he said, sliding the Roman Coke down the bar to him before shifting the subject. "So, you working tonight?"
"Yeah, I'll be at my table," he replied, taking a step back. "One at a time, or I'll shut them all down."
The ba
rtender saluted him. "You're the boss."
No, Matty thought. My father is.
Matty strode to the back of the bar, finding his younger brother, Enzo, already sitting in their usual booth, his arm around a young blonde girl clad in a tight red dress and deathly high heels, her hair teased and frozen solid, like she'd used an entire can of hairspray to hold it in place. Matty paused in front of them, glancing at the seat Genna had sat in just a few hours earlier, currently occupied by another girl. A friend of Enzo's friend, he supposed. He cast her a look, taken aback by the amount of make-up caking her young face—bright red lips, blue eye shadow, pink blush.
His brother seemed to appreciate women from all walks of life, but he had a particular type he always went back to, the one's Matty referred to as eighties music video girls. If they looked like they'd been spread out on top of a Thunderbird to a White Snake song, Enzo was hooked.
"Matty!" he said, holding his fist out for him to bump it. "This is—"
"They have to go," Matty said, motioning toward the girls. He didn't much care to hear their names. There was only one girl on his mind tonight, and if AquaNet and Crayola lingered, he had a sneaking suspicion it would ruin his high. "We have some business to take care of."
Enzo sighed before waving his hand, dismissing the girls with the promise of reconnecting later. Once they were gone, Matty slid into the booth and pulled the Blackberry from his pocket, setting it down on the table in front of him.
"So what corner did you pick them up from?" he asked nonchalantly.
"I resent that, bro."
Looking over at him, Matty cocked an eyebrow.
"I found them walking down 10th Avenue," Enzo replied, grinning when Matty rolled his eyes. "What? Not good looking enough for you?"
"She looked like she got gangbanged by crayons, En."
Laughing, Enzo snatched a piece of ice from his glass and hurled it at him. Matty ducked in just enough time that it flew over his shoulder, skidding across the table behind him. "Just thought my brother might want a little pussy to loosen him up."
"I'm doing fine on my own," Matty said, turning on the Blackberry as he pulled out a small notebook, flipping it open to the last marked page. He could hardly read his own jumbled scribble. "I don't need you to hire hookers."