Unholy Union Read online

  “Did you get in touch with him?” I ask.

  She nods and crosses her leg as she continues to smile at me. “My brother is single and he’s very rich.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Maybe he’ll open an account, too?

  Twenty minutes later, there is a knock on my door. My heart starts to flutter. This can’t be her brother. I guess I was expecting someone who looks evil, with possible horns? He’s at least six-feet-two with short dark hair, chocolate brown eyes, and at least a few days’ growth of stubble on his jaw. He is wearing black pants and a black shirt that has the first two buttons undone. I can see sprinkles of dark hair that must be covering the rest of his chest. He glances at her and gives me a panty-drenching smile.

  “Hi, Matteo. Thank you so much for bringing my checkbook. I was just telling Isabella about how lucky I am to have you as a brother. Did you bring the check?” she asks.

  He narrows his eyes. “Check?” he questions.

  She laughs. “Yes… Did you forget it?”

  “I guess I did. Sorry.”

  “I have an idea. How about the three of us have lunch, and I can grab the check on the way back?”

  Why is she suggesting lunch? I hope this isn’t a hostage attempt.

  They won’t get much money if they pick me for their scheme.

  “I have a lot of work to do,” I advise.

  “Are you serious? I am going to be bringing in an obscene amount of money. You can’t have lunch with a good customer? What would the bank president think?”

  Of course, she would use money and the bank president as leverage. I have no other choice but to have lunch with this bitch and her sexy brother. Why can’t anything go as planned?

  The minute we are one block away, Sarah suddenly announces she has another appointment. She promises that Matteo will make the deposit and gives him a kiss on the cheek. I can’t have lunch alone with this man. I wonder if he can tell I am sweating. I bet I have a sweat stain. Why did I have to wear a silk blouse?

  We stop at the first restaurant we come to. His eyes focus on me as I sit across from him. He rolls up his sleeves, and I notice tattoos covering both arms. I have always loved tattoos on a man. The beginning of a smile tips the corner of his mouth when he catches me staring. When the waiter arrives, we both order a cheeseburger. I sip on water while he clutches his beer.

  “How long have you worked at the bank?” he asks.

  “Five years. What do you do for a living?”

  “I work for my father’s company,” he answers.

  “That must be nice having a family business.”

  “It has its perks… some days.” His expression stills and grows serious. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I choke on my water as I shake my head. Why does it feel like this conversation just got serious?

  “You’re a beautiful woman. I can’t believe no one has snatched you up.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but what can I say to that? “How about you? Is there anyone special?” I ask.

  “I think there could be. It depends on if you’ll have dinner with me.”

  I feel my cheeks flame. Holy shit. This can’t be happening. “You want to take me out to dinner?”

  I look at him with amused wonder. This man is too hot for me. He will break me into pieces. Hell, he should have a warning label on his forehead. Why would a man like this want to spend another moment with me? I feel like a school bus next to a damn Tesla.

  “I do. Are you free?” he answers.

  “I think I would like that,” I reply.

  What have I just gotten myself into? Why did I just agree to go out with him? Matteo walks me back to the bank, and I watch as he climbs into a black Range Rover. He turns back and notices me watching. He gives me a sensual smile. Is it possible to have soaked panties from a smile? Yes… it is officially possible.

  Matteo

  I never expected Sarah to hand me the perfect girl on a silver platter. I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into the bank. I doubt Sarah would have run off if she knew I had to adjust my pants the minute I laid eyes on her. I also can’t believe how much I enjoy talking to her. I could have told her my entire life story. Who am I kidding? I would have had to skip a few parts.

  Her eyes never leave mine while we eat lunch. It feels like we are the only two people in the entire restaurant. I almost feel like she is too good for me. What the hell am I saying? She is too good for me. A nice girl like her should never give me the time of day. What would she think if she knew she was sitting with the devil?

  I bit my lip when I see her sweating. I instantly think of other ways I’d like to make her sweat. She glanced at her watch, and I know it’s time for me to walk her back to the bank. I fight the urge to put my hand on her lower back. Don’t touch her, Matteo. You don’t want to come on too strong.

  The soft breeze of her perfume has my mind buzzing. Damn, she smells good. I can’t let this opportunity slip away. I ask her the question that can change my life and am so relieved when she agrees to have dinner with me.

  This is the first step to finding Mrs. Matteo Stone. Isabella is smart enough not to give me her address, not that I won’t find it anyways. There is nothing in this city that I don’t have access to.

  “Where should we meet?” she asks as we stop in front of the bank’s glass double doors.

  “How about Angelo’s at eight?”

  I hope to impress her by taking her to the most expensive restaurant in Chicago. Sarah will murder me in my sleep if she finds out where we plan to meet since I haven’t taken her yet.

  “That’s a little expensive, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t worry. Let me spoil you.”

  Isabella is worried about me spending too much money on her. I almost wonder if she isn’t used to being spoiled? When I get back in my truck, I catch her looking out the window. They always look back when they are interested. Shit. I should go back to my place so I can jack off.

  I spend the next three hours putting out fires at the office. The families are all getting nervous that they haven’t heard from my father. They want to hear from the Don. Listening to their complaints and threats only remind me that I need this date to work out with Isabella.

  “Are you listening to me, Matteo?” Peter asks.

  “Yes, he is out of the country handling business. He should be back soon,” I lie to keep my father’s condition a secret.

  I see the distrust in his eyes as he walks out of the office. He would like nothing more than to take over. I glance down at my Rolex and see it’s time to head home to prepare for my date. It’s almost funny that I have to go out on a damn date. Matteo Stone shouldn’t have to wine and dine any woman. I never had to with Sarah. She realizes what she has and is grateful for it.

  This date is the most important business meeting I will have today. The end goal is a wife. I must impress her so she’ll go out with me a few more times. Shit. I’ll need to ask Sarah how many dates is necessary before I bring up marriage. I put on my tux and pick my favorite yellow bow tie. The first goal is to make a good impression. I’ll think about the others once I am with her.

  The goals are the last thing on my mind as I drive to the restaurant. I only think about Isabella. I think about those beautiful brown eyes and how that long black hair looks like shining glass. The woman is shaped like a fucking coke bottle, and my dick hardens at the thought of her.

  I arrive at the restaurant early, knowing I will need a drink before she arrives. I don’t know why I am so damn nervous. She is a fucking woman, not the New York Don. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I so nervous about a simple date with this woman? This is business… I need to find a wife. I need to get a grip and remind myself that she is just a woman. She is just a woman… I can do anything that has to be done. I am Matteo Stone.

  I feel her before I see her. I literally stop breathing for seconds when my eyes meet hers. Her beauty is exquisite, fragile. She carries herself confi
dently, unaware of the appreciative glances from other patrons. I want to kill each one of them looking at her.

  “You look absolutely breathtaking,” I whisper, letting my lips almost touch her ear.

  Am I about to hyperventilate? I want her to consider me a gentleman. My dirty mind is telling me to put her over my shoulder and fuck her in the closest bathroom. Thank God she can’t read my mind. I wonder if she would be quiet if I pull up her dress, so her legs could wrap around me? Would she scream when I thrust into her? Get your mind out of her dress, Matteo. Act like a fucking gentleman.

  The waiter pulls out her chair and my temper flares. She is mine, that is my job. We talk about everything, and it surprises the hell out of me. How did she get me to talk? I share things with her that I haven’t mentioned to Sarah. I’m able to skip over the most important things. She doesn’t need to know why we are really on this date or what my family really does.

  Her eyes move to my hand, and I catch myself drawing circles on hers with my thumb. I didn’t even realize I was touching her. It feels so natural and calming.

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask.

  Her fingers flutter to her neck as if she’s considering how to answer.

  “I don’t have any plans,” she answers quietly.

  “How about I make you dinner?”

  What the fuck did I just offer? Is this woman capable of mind control? She draws an invisible pattern on the tablecloth before giving me a small nod. The night could not have ended better. Well, it could have, but I am pretending to be a nice guy. Tonight, for the second time since meeting her, I’ll have to jack off. Damn this nice guy shit.

  I’m in a good mood most of the following day. I think I see a few raised eyebrows, but I ignore them. I can’t wait to get home so I can fix Isabella the perfect dinner. However, I had no idea that a smoke detector could be so damn loud.

  “How the fuck do you make seafood alfredo?” I yell.

  “Are you trying to cook?” Paolo laughs.

  “No, dumb ass! I am writing a cookbook!”

  “Is that the smoke detector?”

  “How the hell do you make it, Paolo?”

  “I’ll text you the recipe,” he teases.

  A few minutes and several open windows later, the smoke has cleared out. The recipe is more complicated than I expected. I sure hope she is worth all this shit. Glancing at the clock, I realize she’ll be here in twenty minutes. When the doorbell rings, I moan that she is early. I quickly wipe off the counter and make sure there isn’t food on my shirt. I pull the door open with a smile. There is only one problem. It’s not Isabella… it’s Sarah.

  “Hey, lover.” She kisses me. “Is someone cooking in here?” she asks.

  “Sarah, this isn’t a good time.”

  “You’re cooking?” She tilts her head and looks at me like she is seeing me for the first time.

  “Yes… Again, not a good time.”

  “I didn’t realize you own a stove.”

  “Sarah… NOT. A. GOOD. TIME. I have a date,” I tell her slowly.

  “Isabella?”

  I nod.

  “You’re cooking for her? You’ve never cooked for me,” she whispers.

  Is she serious right now? I remind her that I need to impress Isabella, so she will marry me. I don’t have time to deal with her jealousy. After managing to get an irritated Sarah out, I hurry to finish dinner. Five minutes later, there is a knock on the door. Shit. I didn’t have time to take a shower. She’s wearing jeans and a black sweater, but damn, she is still drop dead gorgeous. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she is holding a bottle of wine.

  “I didn’t want to come empty-handed,” she offers, handing me the bottle.

  The flush on her cheeks is like the flush of sunset on snow. What the hell am I talking about? My finger tenderly traces the line of her cheekbone and jaw.

  “You are so beautiful,” I whisper.

  She leans her head back and gazes into my eyes. I wonder if she can see my black soul? As we sit across from each other, I can feel the tension in the air. This was a bad idea. I should have never invited her here. My bed is close, and I want her naked with her legs in the air while I pound into her.

  “Is something wrong?” she asks.

  “No, why do you ask?” I take a sip of wine. It’s cheap, but it’s tolerable. I can tell she got the best she could afford.

  “You seem a little tense.”

  She is very good at reading people. “You’re right. I am tense, Isabella. If I am honest, it’s because of you,” I admit.

  She softly drops her fork and her eyes narrow. I can see the hurt in them. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  “Why?”

  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and think of the nicest words a gentleman can say to her. Fuck it… I’ll just be honest.

  “I want to take you to bed and fuck you into tomorrow.”

  I thought she would slap me. At the very least, I assume she will walk out. Her eyes dilate as they stare into mine.

  “I think that is exactly what you should do,” she replies.

  My heart starts to race, and I wonder if I am dreaming. Who in the hell cares if this is a dream? I’ll close my fucking eyes and dream the hell on. It doesn’t take long for me to have her over my shoulder and in my bedroom.

  Isabella

  Is it possible for the perfect man to literally drop into my lap? The tension is obvious. My thighs clench as his eyes darken. I have read every relationship book out there. I know the dating rules. No sex for ninety days, no sex before marriage, hold the cookie for as long as you can. I have held my cookie for long enough, and even after knowing him for only two days, I am ready for him to take a bite. Geez… what will I do with a stale, untouched cookie?

  He slowly walks toward me, looking like an animal on the hunt. His hungry lips meet mine, his tongue slipping inside to tangle with my own. Gently, he undresses me until he reaches my panties and rips them off. I can’t take my eyes off him. How is it possible for a man to be this beautiful?

  His chest his hard with soft dark hair, and his perfect abs lead to the most sensual V that I have only read about in books until now. I grab his arms which are covered with the most colorful tattoos. Are these tribal? I lick his neck and think he stops breathing for a few seconds.

  Who the hell is this bold woman? I feel like a different woman, and I think I like her. She is unafraid and is doing exactly what she wants instead of what she is told to do. She is breaking the rules, and I think she likes it. I like it. She is also talking about herself instead of enjoying this hot piece of man in front of her.

  Instead of moving us to the bed, Matteo walks to a leather chair in a corner. He pulls down his pants and sits. Grabbing his erect penis, he looks at me with unfiltered lust shining from his dark eyes. “I want you to ride me.” His voice is a little hoarse. I lean in and kiss him. He is slow in his response, but he caresses my breasts with callused hands and pulls me on top of him. When he repeatedly rubs his penis against my opening, I can’t stop the moan that pours out of my mouth.

  He feels good… too good.

  If this is temptation from the devil, I will happily accept it. I can’t take any more of the teasing and decide to take matters into my own hands. I slam down onto him. He is big, almost too big. He doesn’t give me long to get accustomed to his size. It’s a little painful, but it’s good pain.

  Matteo starts to thrust hard into me. I wrap my arms around his neck to hold on. My eyes close after I notice the small tattoo of a cross on his neck. The only sounds in the room are us moaning and the heavy leather chair squeaking across the floor. I grab the chair when he starts to thrust harder, and I feel that I am so close. Matteo slows his pace and picks me up to carry me to the bed, his hard dick still inside me. Pinning my leg down, his penetration is so much deeper as he pushes into me deeper and faster. After emptying himself inside me, he pulls me against his chest and holds me.


  It should have only been dinner, but tonight has turned into much more. Is this what love feels like?

  Sleeping in Matteo’s protective arms is the best feeling I have had in months. I didn’t expect him to still be in bed with me the next morning. I thought he would be anywhere except still curled up against me with his penis nudging against my ass. I roll over to look at him, and he groans.

  “Good Morning,” I whisper.

  “Mmm,” he moans.

  “How about I make breakfast?”

  He opens one eye and looks at me. “How about we take a shower and go out for breakfast?”

  “A shower sounds nice.”

  We are in the shower for almost an hour before we get dressed. Matteo drives to a little family restaurant that doesn’t look like it’s been redecorated in the last century. We can’t keep our hands to ourselves as we sit across from each other in the small booth.

  “What did you want, baby?” he asks.

  I want several things, but none of them are on the menu. I shrug and my eyes glance at the door when the little bell rings.

  “Oh, look! It’s Sarah!” I smile and wave.

  I still don’t like her, but she did introduce me to Matteo. I almost feel like I owe her. I can see the shock on her face as she makes her way to our table. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t look thrilled either.

  “Oh my, this looks cozy.” She sneers.

  Matteo’s eyes narrow. “Sarah.”

  He sounds like he is silently threatening her. Is this how siblings act toward each other?

  “May I join you?” she asks.

  Matteo takes a deep breath, and I notice his fist clenched on the table.

  “Sure!” I add.

  Sarah crawls in next to Matteo, but he doesn’t budge.

  “Dinner and now breakfast. I am surprised you’re not sick of him by now.” She laughs. His fingers intertwine with mine, and she continues to look between us. “Did you two spend the night with each other?” she questions.

  “That is none of your business, Sarah,” Matteo warns.

  He pulls his hand away as the waitress returns to take our order. That’s the end of the conversation, and everything suddenly feels tense. I try to make small talk, but neither of them is interested. I have a feeling that Matteo and Sarah aren’t as close as I assumed.