Chapter 140 Popcorn and Provocation
Valentina
Matteo found me in the kitchen, still barefoot and wearing his oversized hoodie I’d claimed as mine. He looked deliciously tired—tie gone, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his forearms like he’d been in meetings all day and couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.
“You look like you need a drink,” I said, popping a grape into my mouth.
He leaned a hip against the counter. “I need patience. Which I’m currently running out of.”
“Oh good. I’ve got a bottle of that in the pantry. Right next to the fucks I no longer give.”
He smirked but didn’t rise to the bait. “The PI finally got eyes on Bexley.”
That got my attention. I dropped the grape stem and turned toward him fully. “And?”
“He’s on his yacht.”
I blinked. “Okay… so what? We go get him.”
Matteo shook his head once. “It’s not that simple. The yacht’s offshore, and the PI hasn’t been able to pin down who’s on it with him. There’s no public itinerary. Could be a weekend cruise, could be a three-month fucking sabbatical.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. The man’s slippery. Old money, old connections. Doesn’t like to be found unless he wants to be.”
I leaned against the counter beside him and crossed my arms. “So… we wait.”
“For now.”
I nodded once. No use getting worked up over a delay we couldn’t control. “Fine. Then I vote we do something normal for once. Like watch a movie.”
Matteo quirked a brow. “A movie?”
“Yeah. Like we did when you first brought me here—remember? All that fake cuddling and public displays of affection so Alessio would believe we were desperately in love?” I smirked. “We could bring back some of that nostalgia.”
His eyes darkened just slightly. “You want me to touch you like I did that night? Because that wasn’t acting.”
A spark danced low in my belly, but I rolled my eyes and shoved his arm lightly. “Focus. It’s movie night.”
He chuckled. “Fine. That actually sounds like a good change of pace.”
The door creaked open before I could respond, and in walked Rosco, followed by Tess.
“Let’s do what?” Rosco asked, already heading for the fridge.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Movie night.”
Rosco grinned. “Sweet. I’m in.”
Matteo didn’t even pretend to hide his annoyance. “You weren’t invited.”
I gave him a warning look. “It’s fine. He can watch the damn movie. It’s not that serious.”
Matteo’s jaw ticked. “What if I wanted to bend you over the couch and fuck you while we watched?”
I blinked. “Then that wouldn’t be happening in the open family room where just anybody could pop in and witness it.”
He sighed dramatically. “Unbelievable.”
“Control yourself, husband.”
Rosco grabbed a soda and turned toward us, completely unfazed. “Perfect. What are we watching?”
Then he looked past me to Tess, who lingered by the doorway like she wasn’t sure she belonged.
“So what do you say, lil bit?” Rosco grinned. “You down to watch a movie tonight or what?”
Tess’s eyes widened, and she smiled shyly. “Yeah. Sure. I’d like that.”
Matteo groaned. “This is becoming a fucking slumber party.”
I patted his chest and walked toward the living room. “Shut up and pick the movie.”
We settled into the sunken family room, two couches facing the massive screen that dropped from the ceiling like a stage curtain. Matteo took the corner seat and tugged me down beside him, throwing a blanket over our legs like he owned both me and the fabric. Spoiler alert: he did.
On the other couch, Rosco sprawled out like he paid rent, legs wide, arms stretched along the back cushions. Tess sat carefully on the other end, legs tucked under her, like a guest still unsure if she was staying for dinner or being eaten at it.
“What are we watching?” I asked, already reaching for the popcorn.
Rosco scrolled through the movies with the remote. “Something with tits.”
Matteo didn’t even blink. “You’ll need to narrow that down.”
Rosco smirked. “I was thinking Basic Instinct. Or Eyes Wide Shut.”
Tess blinked. “Aren’t those—”
“Classics,” Rosco said. “Cinematic masterpieces. Full of emotion. And breasts.”
I groaned. “Rosco.”
“What?” he asked, deadpan. “They’ve got great scores.”
“You’re gonna scare Tess off. She’s barely been here two days.”
Rosco turned to Tess and wiggled his brows. “Nonsense. She’s an adult. Right, lil bit? And if she can’t handle adult things, she’s definitely in the wrong damn house.”
Tess flushed but gave the smallest of smiles. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Rosco repeated under his breath, hitting play.
The movie opened with dim lighting, heavy breathing, and a scene that involved a lot of limbs and very little clothing.
Matteo glanced at me and smirked. “Feeling nostalgic, baby?”
“Shut up,” I muttered, sinking deeper into the couch.
On the other couch, Rosco was doing what he did best—talking too much.
“She’s definitely faking it,” he muttered at the screen. “Nobody arches like that unless they’re trying to impress someone.”
Tess made a small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a choke.
“You disagree, lil bit?” he teased, tilting his head toward her. “You ever make a man see stars?”
“Rosco!” I snapped, sitting up.
He held up a hand in mock surrender. “What? It’s an honest question.”
“She’s not even comfortable here yet and you’re out here conducting a sex poll.”
He nudged her shoulder with his. “Tell her. I’m harmless.”
Tess laughed nervously. “He’s… entertaining.”
“Damn right I am.”
About thirty minutes in, Tess stretched her legs out and shifted to the other end of the couch, laying on her side. Rosco looked over. “You can put your legs up if you need to stretch. I don’t bite.”
“Much,” I muttered.
Tess hesitated, then propped her legs across his lap, folding them at the knees. He settled his hands on either side of her calves, respectful enough, but still grinning like the devil got a second chance.
By the time the movie hit its third soft-core scene, Tess was out cold. Her chest rose in slow, steady breaths. One arm dangled off the couch, the other tucked under her head. At some point, she’d rolled slightly to the side, and the hem of her shorts had twisted with her, riding up just enough to flash the lower curve of one cheek.
I noticed it before Rosco did.
But when he noticed?
His eyes locked on it, breath hitching just once. That wolfish grin faded. Replaced by something quieter. Hungrier.
I cleared my throat. Loudly.
Rosco blinked, then dragged the blanket up over her, covering her legs and half her back.
The credits started rolling. Matteo shifted beside me, stretching. “Movie night’s over. And for the record—terrible acting.”
“Speak for yourself,” Rosco muttered. “I thought it was art.”
Matteo stood, pulling me up with him, and I started gathering empty glasses and the popcorn bowl. Rosco didn’t move.
Then he looked down at Tess, still fast asleep, curled up like a kitten on his lap.
Without asking, without fanfare, he scooped her up.
She didn’t even stir.
“I’ll take her to bed,” he said, already walking toward the hall.