Page 64 of Polo Fever
‘Ash.’
I look up from my screen to find Mateo has followed me out.
‘Hi,’ I say with a nervous smile. ‘I-I’m sorry you lost today, Mateo. It was… close.’
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said,’ he says with a furrowed brow, ignoring my commiserations and coming to stand opposite me. ‘I actually haven’t been able to think about anything else. All day, it’s been bothering me and… angering me. I’ve worked out why. I’m ready to respond to you now.’
Stunned by his abrupt statements, I stare at him. ‘Respond to what?’
‘What you were saying last night. I want to continue the conversation. Is that okay?’
‘Uh. Yes. Yes, of course.’
‘Ash, I think—’
He’s interrupted by someone brushing past him as the smoking area becomes more crowded with people seeking refuge from the rain that’s hammering down on the canopy. Mateo looks around us, agitated. I take his hand and lead him beyond the roped-off area into the street, hurrying around the corner and ducking into a doorstop around the side. It’s a tight space and not exactly completely covered from the rain, but it’s private. He shrugs off his jacket and holds it over our heads as a makeshift cover.
‘What is it?’ I ask, needing to know whatever it is he wants to say.
‘I think if you never take any risks, then you never win,’ he states, his eyes bright and wild. ‘Ash, I don’t know what lies ahead for you, for me – for anyone. But from the moment you came trespassing into that field and into my life, everything changed. I haven’t been able to shake you, not for one moment. That scared me. It scares me still. It’s made me question everything;you’vemade me question everything. I…’ He lifts his eyes to the jacket above us for a second, searching for the right way of putting it. ‘I want to be around you all the time. Your stubbornness is very annoying. Your laugh is perfect. I don’t feel myself unless I’m with you. You drive me to be better at whatever I’m doing. I want to win every match, every tournament, so that I might have a chanceat winningyou. The way I feel for you… I’ve never felt anything like this before.’
He pauses, breathing heavily, his expression softening.
The jacket is half-working. Our hair and faces are protected, but our arms are soaked, his shirt see-through and plastered to his toned muscles working hard to keep the jacket held high for our conversation.
‘I hated going up the Eiffel Tower,hatedit,’ he continues. ‘I’ve been to Paris so many times and I promised myself I’d never, ever do it. You’re the only person I could break that promise for, Ash. I can’t persuade you to take this risk, but I can tell you that, if you want to, I will take it with you. Iwantto take it. You won’t be alone in it.’ His throat bobs. ‘Yesterday, you said this might not be real, but I don’t know what could be more real than that.’
My heart is thudding at an alarming rate. The rain is roaring in my ears. He’s watching me apprehensively, wide-eyed and waiting, as though his sanity depends on whatever it is I’m about to say. But words won’t cut it. Because I don’t know how to put in words the way he’s made me feel on this stoop in the middle of the rain in Paris. He’s made me feel a bit stupid, actually. He’s right. I wanted to shut this off before it began because I was protecting myself before I knew how he felt. I know now. He’s told me.
Time to show him exactly how I feel.
Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, I pull him towards me and drag his lips to mine, arching my body into his as I kiss him with a hunger and need I’ve never felt before. He responds instantly, dropping the jacket as one hand cups my face, the other threading through my hair. As his tongue partsmy lips, I moan against his mouth and the hand on my jaw drops to press against my back, forcing my hips to press into him. Without our cover, we are open and vulnerable to this unexpected heavy shower of rain.
Locked safely in his arms, I couldn’t care less. Let it pour.
Twenty-One
‘Shall we make a break for it?’ Mateo grins, pressing his forehead against mine.
Biting my lip, I nod and he bends down to pick up his jacket, now too wet to be of any use. He takes my hand in his, interlocking our fingers, and we launch ourselves out into the downpour, hurrying down the road in the direction of his hotel, which I know isn’t far. I squeal with laughter through the hammering rain, grateful for Mateo snaking his arm around my waist to make sure I don’t slip in my heels.
By the time we burst into the lobby of the Ritz Paris, my hair is dripping wet and my dress sodden. Mateo runs a hand through his hair, droplets beading down his face, his shirt clinging to his solid torso. His grin is making my heart flip. I must look a state, my make-up probably smeared all over my face. Mateo looks hotter than I’ve ever seen him, his skin glistening with raindrops, his hair damp, messy and tousled, his eyes flashing at me. When he leads me towards the elevator with purpose, I notice everyone glance up and watch us with intrigue, the two of us soaked through andgiggling like we’ve done something that’s going to get us in trouble as we cross the marble floor.
The doors ping open and he presses a hand on the small of my back to guide me inside the empty elevator before he steps in behind me, presses the number for his floor, and spins me round to face him, steadying me with one hand gripping my hip, the other cupping the side of my head. Before the doors have closed again and I have time to think, he’s dragged my mouth to his. I gasp, his lips devouring me hungrily, my back arching into him as his fingers tangle in my hair and his tongue glides against mine.
This kiss is so urgent, so demanding, it’s making me light-headed and reckless. I don’t notice when the elevator doors shut; I don’t care who’s seen us before they do. I’m lost in my hunger for him, all of him, every fucking inch of him, digging my nails into the muscles of his back and dragging them down in slow, torturous motion as he moans into my mouth in response, biting fervently at my bottom lip.
As the elevator shifts into motion, I back against the wall, hauling him with me, needing his body pressed against mine. His hands fall to the back of my thighs and he hoists me up with ease, my dress sliding up around my waist as my legs squeeze his hips, my ankles locking behind his back. As he buries his head in my neck, kissing and licking my wet skin, I inhale sharply at the feel of his hardened erection pressed in between my legs.Fuck.He’s huge. I can tell he’s huge. The idea of him inside me sends jolts of electricity surging through me, dampening the fabric of my underwear. I want him now. I need him now. I grind against him and he groans, jerking his head back to look at me, his eyes flaring with heat.
‘Ash,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing to me.’
My hand slides to the bulge in his trousers. ‘I think I have an idea.’
He punishes my brazenness by lowering me to my feet and stepping back, leaving me cold and gasping for him. The elevator doors slide open. Catching his breath, his eyes drift down my body as I quickly wriggle my skirt back down my thighs.
‘Fucking hell,’ he mutters, the muscle in his jaw twitching. ‘You’re so beautiful, Ash.’
For a moment, I’m dumbfounded, struck by the sincerity of the compliment. The doors threaten to close again, but he presses the button to open them and reaches for my hand, guiding me down the corridor towards his room in a daze. Unlocking the door, he ushers me inside and turns on the light.
