His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim
Matteo turned around, and his gaze dragged slowly over me, bare legs, his shirt hanging loose on my frame, collar open, skin still flushed with leftover heat from last night.
His tongue pressed to his cheek like he was holding something in. But his eyes said it all.
Later. I felt it like a current under my skin.
But for now, he just winked and returned to flipping the eggs. “Coffee?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” I said, setting Sofia down on a stool.
He handed me a mug, his fingers brushing mine longer than necessary. A silent touch. A promise.
I sat at the table while Sofia recounted every detail of her dream involving a unicorn, a magical picnic, and apparently, a dragon who liked pineapple pi
Sikat na Kabanata