Force of Forever (All In #0.5)

“Here,” she said, holding a tiny corner piece,sanschocolate, near his mouth. “Saved you some.”

“How generous of you,” he snarked back, shaking his head at her obvious mirth. He snagged her wrist and brought the flaky pastry closer to his mouth. His turn to tease. He snapped his gaze to hers and smiled as he plucked the piece from her fingers with his teeth. His lips grazed her thumb. He bit down on the pad, watching her mouth pop open in surprise. He flicked his tongue over an errant crumb as her breathing changed.

Pia cleared her throat and reclaimed her empty hand, trying her best to shoot him a glare. “My dad would call that little move ‘getting fresh.’”

“I call it getting started.”

Célia groaned from the front seat. Pia just stared and blinked as if she were trying to figure him out. Or figure out how she felt about him. He grinned at her. Maybe his obvious interest and runaway mouth wouldn’t send her sprinting from the car in those sexy heels.

“You’re trouble,” she declared, pointing an accusing finger his way.

She tried to sound annoyed, but Matt noticed the subtle changes in her body language that said otherwise. She’d inched closer and seemed unable to take her eyes off his mouth.

“You can handle it.”

He expected a snarky reply, something about her two brothers and endless uncles she’d mentioned on the plane; how even though she was the baby of the family, she was fierce enough to keep all those men in line.

Instead, her lips curved into a smile that tightened every muscle in his body. Her accusatory finger turned into a beckoning one as she gestured at him to come closer. Matt obeyed while his heart attempted to beat out of his chest. When her hand slid up the back of his neck and into his hair, he forgot his own name. Warm breath tickled the shell of his ear. “I plan to.”

His dick thickened in his slacks. Every molecule of his being screamed at him to grab her face and dominate her beautiful fucking mouth.

He had a business launching in mere months. Investors waiting to hear from him. High-level employees to hire, events to plan, housing to arrange. But in that second, with Pia’s fingers curling in his hair and the tingles from her proximity spreading, Matt would have given up his entire legacy, his entire future, for this moment of promise to continue. To deepen into something baser. He wanted darkness. Privacy. Skin. More promises. More time. He wanted it all.

“Tell me, Romeo,” she fairly purred, “where to first?”

Matt didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The pressure in his pants was too distracting. His throat had dried up. He had to breathe through want so strong it choked him.

Finally, he was able to croak out a few words. “Skip the park, Célia. We’re going to the museum.” He needed this evening to move along at a pace that wasn’t intent on killing him slowly.

“Musée Rodin? Really?” Pia pulled her hand from his hair and actually clapped. “Thank you!Merci, I mean. I know everyone loves Monet, and I should really want to see theMona Lisa, but I’ve always preferred dimension over a flat surface. Sculpting was one of my favorite classes in high school.”

From seduction to pure delight in a blink, and lord help him, he adored both.Merde, was he in trouble.

Twenty minutes of only mildly charged conversation later, they arrived in front of the old hotel that housed the Musée Rodin. Though closed for the evening, lights blazed from the mullioned windows. He climbed out to open her door before she could, and wrapped his jacket around her shoulders again. Her short-sleeve dress wasn’t warm enough for April in Paris.

He wondered where the impulse to see to her every comfort had sprung from. The behavior hadn’t been learned, that was for sure. His father was no Romeo, and his mother no lovestruck Juliet. Pia was essentially a stranger despite their ten-hour flight together. But, based on their conversations, she also seemed to be a person who cared deeply for those around her. Perhaps he just wanted to show her what her own light looked like. Maybe he just wanted to get her into bed. Likely a bit of both.

“Thanks, Romeo.”

Matt chuckled. Never in his life had he imagined a nickname like that one.

They made their way through the stone arch and up the walkway in companionable silence, Matt firing off a text message as he went. The ornate doors opened a moment later.

“Mattias! It has been much too long. My goodness, you’re a man now.”

Spoken in rapid French by a smartly dressed woman who could have been his grandmother. Or, more accurately, had been in a bridge club with his grandmother decades before. One of the museum’s directors, Ghislaine had been only too happy to stay late and allow Matt to give Pia a private tour of the collection she was as proud of as her own children.

She pulled him close, kissing both cheeks. Matt did the same. “Ghislaine, so nice to see you again. Thank you for allowing me to give Pia a closer look at her favorite artist,” he replied in English.

“Yes, thank you so much. I had no idea a private tour was even possible,” Pia added.

Ghislaine nodded her chin at Matt. “Anything is possible in a family like his.”

Not anything.

She looped her arm around Pia’s waist as she led them through the former hotel lobby and into the first collection room. Rodin’s earliest works, arranged chronologically. “Besides, his grandmother was a dear friend, and Mattias has always been a lovely boy. I’m happy to help.” She gestured at the impressive space and even more impressive statuary, but Matt’s gaze never made it past the rapture on Pia’s face. Her joy bloomed in his own belly. “Both building and grounds are at your disposal.”

“Wow,” Pia breathed.