They both knew, probably Nikolai Volkov did too, that it couldn’t be their dance when she hadn’t even been introduced to Atticus. “So it is.” She linked her arm through his and allowed him to take her out onto the dance floor, where a dozen or so other couples had now joined the bride and groom and their partners. “That was very kind of you, thank you.”
Atticus chuckled, dispelling some of the don’t-fuck-with-me air he carried around with him like a second skin. “Nikolai can be a little…intense, but he usually means well,” he dismissed. “So, Matteo, hmm?” he drawled as he waltzed her, surprisingly light-footed, around the dance floor. “My mother insisted on all her sons learning to dance,” he added when he saw her surprised expression.
“She’s obviously a very wise woman.”
“Obviously.” Atticus nodded. “But don’t think for a moment you’ve diverted my attention from my original question. My wife…” he nodded toward the freckle-faced, red-haired, and green-eyed woman dancing with another of the Steele brothers, “…will never forgive me if I don’t have all the gossip on you and Matteo by the end of our dance together.”
Grace found herself liking this long-haired man who looked as if he should be head of a motorcycle club rather than joint owner with his brothers of a security company. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there isn’t any gossip. Matteo and I barely know each other.” Literally bare, on her part! “He asked me to his sister’s wedding, and here I am.”
Atticus chuckled. “We both know there’s a lot more to that statement than that. Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed as their dance came to an end. “I’ll just tell my wife the two of you are fucking like rabbits and suggest we go somewhere private and do the same. Weddings do it for her every time, and we’ve been to a lot of them lately,” he added with obvious relish.
Grace couldn’t hold back her splutter of laughter. “Don’t let me delay you.”
He bent over her hand and lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles before straightening and releasing her. “There are a few empty rooms farther down the hallway, all with locks on the doors, if you and Matteo decide you don’t want to waste time going up to his hotel suite.”
“You already checked?” she teased.
“Hell, yes!” Atticus growled without apology before leaving her to go in search of his wife.
“I asked the musicians to play a tango. Dance with me?”
Grace didn’t need to turn to know that Matteo was doing the asking. It wasn’t only the huskiness of his voice or the way it sent shivers of awareness down her spine; she had also recognized the subtlety of his aftershave and male musk before he even spoke. She could also feel the heat of his body standing so close behind her own.
“Argentinian style,” Matteo added.
Grace knew a normal tango could be sensual, but an Argentinian one was even more so, as it was usually totally improvised by the couple dancing. Having seen the elegance and style with which Matteo danced a waltz, Grace had no doubt he would be amazing performing the tango.
Could she do this?
The dance lessons she’d taken when she was younger meant she knew how, but…
She turned to face Matteo. “Mr. Volkov doesn’t seem particularly enamored with the fact you invited me here.”
He turned his narrowed gaze toward the Russian, a look the other man returned, resulting in the two men engaging in what appeared to be a silent battle of fuck-you glances. Matteo eventually turned his attention back to Grace. “Mr. Volkov can kiss my— He can keep his opinions to himself in regard to what I do or don’t do,” Matteo stated grimly before his expression softened. “Dance with me. Please.” He held out his arms for Grace to step into.
Once again, that “please” did it for Grace, even though she had no doubt the next few minutes were going to be the height of sensuality and that Matteo would be in complete control of them. And her.
The moment the two of them stepped onto the dance floor, she could feel the thrum of the music reverberating through the wood beneath her feet. Encouraging. Enticing. Tempting.
In the same way Matteo, the way he looked and his air of complete self-confidence, had been tempting Grace into uncharacteristic actions from the moment they first looked at each other just days ago.
But she had no time to dwell on the right or wrongness of those actions, couldn’t think or see anything else but Matteo right now. His gaze remained fixed on hers, one of her hands held in his and his other arm placed firmly about her waist as he easily swung her into the dance.
The next few minutes were…beyond sensual and bordering on erotic.
Matteo continued to hold her gaze as he thrust one of his legs between hers, the high heels of her shoes allowing them to be touching at the chest and thighs.
He tipped her back at the waist until her hair brushed the floor and her clit was pressed against the hardness of his cock. He kept their bodies close even after he had snapped her back into an upright position, the two of them molded together as they moved around the dance floor as one unit. Around. Down. Up. Matteo effortlessly controlled their every movement without once moving his gaze from hers.
Grace was breathless by the time Matteo once again bent her back, this time over one of his thighs, and the music ended with a loud crescendo.
There was only the sound of their ragged breathing as they continued to stare at each other, before the applause started and then rose in volume.
Once Matteo had pulled her up to stand beside him, Grace turned to see that the two of them were the only couple left on the dance floor. That somewhere in the middle of their dance, everyone else had stepped back to watch them. The rest of the wedding party
