“Glad you think of me as a God,” I countered. “You need to start doing some proper worshipping.”
“Narcissus wasn’t a God. Just a mortal who fell in love with himself. Despite some of my father’s beliefs, he thought it was good that I was familiar with the classics just so he coulddetail all the reasons why the Greeks and Romans are currently burning in hell.”
“It’s okay,” I murmured and pushed my nose into his locks, getting the scent of my shampoo. “You don’t have to admit you’re nuts about me. I already know that.”
He sighed. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are. In my arms. Nearly naked.”
He scooted up my body and peered down at me, his features in shadow. “Has it occurred to you that I’m just using you?”
I frowned. “Need I remind you that you suggested we have sex?”
“I told you. It is a proximity thing and you’re–”
“Hot. Sexy. Delicious,” I said, stealing a quick kiss. I pushed him against the mattress. “Baby, pumpkin spice has nothing on the flavor of ginger.”
His gaze darkened. “Wait until you get a taste of Latin spice.”
We burst out in laughter together and I pulled him close. The whole thing was silly, but that was the point. He buried his head in the pillow and started hacking. I hated that he wasn't fully recovered yet and made a mental note to find him a general practitioner.
When he settled down, he said, “I’m Spanish, though I don’t look like it all that much. My mother is French Canadian, so I got her fair skin. My father is Spanish and when I say that I mean my family came over from Spain in the 1800’s.”
“As far as I know, I’m full-blooded Irish,” I said. A long moment of silence stretched, sleep taking over. “Oh, hey… I had an idea. On my next day off I was thinking we could get out of here for a few hours. You’ve been stuck in my little apartment for a month and could use some fresh air.”
“Can we go to a library?” he asked with a little pep in his voice.
“A library? Sure. Have you ever been to the Harold Washington Library?”
“No. I never made it to the south part of the city.”
I gasped. “Really? Well, we will do that. Then we will check out Macys. One of my friends has a birthday coming up and I need to get him something. We can get food and see the city.”
“I’d like that,” he whispered, nuzzling my chest with his nose.
I stroked his hair for a long time, liking the way it curled around my fingers. The evening hadn’t turned out the way we’d wanted, but this was equally as nice as fooling around, maybe even better because we both knew something was happening between us. I had a feeling we both didn’t want to admit to it, though.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MATTEO
I stood in the middle of the room, my head craned back as I looked up into the domed glass ceiling of the winter-garden penthouse of the Harold Washington library. I was surrounded by terrazzo and marble floors, silver light streaming in from above, and boxed ornamental trees. All the neoclassical decor chimed around me, the notes of “Mariage D'Amour” echoing in my heart and soul. I’d hung out in plenty of libraries before, often for shelter while reading about the things I’d been insulated from, but this was on the next level. I could stay here all day, finding music in pockets of bright light and the quiet spaces between bookshelves.
“There you are,” Sean said as he came up next to me and bumped his elbow against mine. “It’s pretty isn’t it? I like to come here sometimes and read.”
“What do you like to read?” I asked, wanting to know more about him.
He shrugged. “Magazines. Newspapers. I’m not a bookworm, but it’s always good to expand your mind. It’s more about relaxing and enjoying simple moments for me.”
“As opposed to expanding your tummy?” I teased. Heckling him seemed like the natural thing to do. If we weren’t constantly at each other’s throats, something was off.
“I’ve been expanding your horizons lately, haven’t I?” he said softly with a hint of a playful growl.
Every night for the last three nights, we shared dinner and watched a movie before he went downstairs for work. When he returned at two in the morning, we laid in bed, talking about any and everything in between making out, and working each other up into a ball of need. I wanted to go further and I knew hedid too, but I got the feeling he wouldn’t until I explicitly asked. I was fine with the snail’s pace because it gave me time to savor his lips.
When we finally took the plunge, it was going to be glorious. That time was fast approaching, and I couldn’t wait. Besides, the blue balls were killer and I refused to rub one out on the account of giving him the win. I had a feeling I was going to be the first to break, however. This game we had going on was one I was sure no one would win.
I passed him a knowing look. I got him going just as much as he did me. Figuring it wasn’t good to get into sexually-charged banter in public, I said, “When I was allowed to go to the library, my father insisted on chaperoning me so that any books I picked out could be scrutinized. I wasn’t allowed to read anything not on his tiny list of approved material. Suffice to say, most of what I chose was promptly rejected. If I even dared to pick up a Harry Potter book, I could be expected to write a lengthy essay on the dangers of witchcraft.”
