Page 27
His fingers closed around the bullets with a snap.
Wordlessly, he turned around and walked into the living room. The thunder and lightning had petered out, but now torrential rain poured in its place. Mattia opened the window behind the sofa, filling the apartment with the roar of the deluge. He stuck his arm out of it and dropped the bullets. When he pulled his arm back in, his arm was soaked.
If he was bothered or even noticed, he gave no sign, holding her gun out to her, the muzzle pointing to him.
With another deep breath, Elvira walked into the living room and stopped at arm’s length from him. Turning his gun so it was pointing at herself, she held it out.
“On three?” he said quietly.
She met his eyes briefly and nodded.
“One. Two. Three.”
The switch was seamless and managed without either of them touching the other. She would swear the apartment breathed out its relief.
His chest rising sharply, Mattia jerked a nod and stepped back. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Close to being overwhelmed by inexplicable emotions, she attempted bravado. “You’re that confident I won’t shoot you or find the key while you’re in there?”
“You’ll never find the key, but when it comes to shooting me…” Now his shoulders rose. “I guess I’m about to find out if my confidence is misplaced.”
“I guess you are.” Wrapping her fingers around her gun, she finally managed to curve her lips into a smile. “You must be very keen to wash my stink off if you’d risk your life for it.”
His chest and shoulders rose together. Something she didn’t recognise flashed in his eyes. “Let me know if you want to shower my stink off too when I’m done. I’ll get a towel out for you.”
“Regretting not getting one for me earlier?”
He closed his eyes and grunted a laugh. “I don’t think regret even touches what I’m feeling.”
Walking around her, he disappeared from the living room. A moment later, she heard the bathroom door close.
* * *
Mattia gazed at the toothbrush in the sink. It was still wet from when Elvira had rinsed it after using it. He needed to clean his teeth but didn’t know if he could bring himself to use the same brush that had been in her mouth.
He’d washed his body with the same gel she’d used. There had been no other option. It smelt differently on him. On Elvira’s skin, it smelt warmer. Softer. He hated that he knew that. The scent of the shampoo was different, and he’d washed his hair twice to override the scent of the gel.
She hadn’t been wrong that he’d wanted to wash her stink off him, except it was no stink. Elvira’s natural scent was as sexy and beautiful as everything about her, and it was a scent that had clung to him. But it had been more than that. He’d needed to wash the feel of her off him, and give himself the space to reset his head to where it needed to be to get through the hours they had left together.
So many hours to get through. A whole day and night. So many hours to stop Elvira burrowing under his skin in those myriad ways she had.
He was still waiting for disgust to flush through him at what they’d done. If he was going to feel disgust at having sex with anyone, it should be with Elvira Ranieri.
Her clothes were still puddled on the bathroom floor. Her bra lay strewn to the side. All her clothing was wet from the spray of the shower when she’d been using it and the puddle she’d created when she’d stepped out of it.
If he’d taken a towel out of the bathroom cabinet for her, would she have slipped?
If she hadn’t slipped, none of what had followed would have happened. He wouldn’t be actively willing disgust to fill him and drive out the last of her imprint in his veins.
Maybe it couldn’t form when his loins kept tightening at the remembrance of what it had felt like to be buried in her tight, moist depths.
He couldn’t even taste it. Usually disgust lingered in his mouth for hours after sex, but all he could taste was Elvira’s kisses. He needed to scrub the taste out of his mouth, but he’d never shared a toothbrush in his life. If he was to share one for the first time, the last person he would want to have used it before him was Elvira Ranieri.
He snatched the toothbrush out of the sink and squeezed a larger-than-usual dollop of toothpaste on it.
The moment the bristles touched his teeth, the image of Elvira brushing her teeth hit him and his loins tightened so sharply that he gripped the sink to fight it from turning into full-blown arousal.
Chapter Eleven
