Chapter Twenty Nine
Once the words are out, I feel almost light-headed, already wondering what I’ve just done.
I only get a brief glimpse of his victory—he extinguishes the sparkle in his eyes before he scares me off. His track record at this point does nothing to recommend him, and I could very well be digging my own grave right now instead of an escape tunnel.
Wisely, he doesn’t give me any more time to think about it. Once his hands slip beneath the scant fabric of the skirt, cupping my ass and pulling me against him, all ability to think drains right out of me. Knowing all I do about him should make him unattractive, unappealing, repulsive—but somehow it only makes knowing he wants me, even if only for a game, strangely thrilling.
Mateo dips his head to the overflowing cleavage spilling out of the corset. As his lips brush the exposed skin, pleasure moves through my veins, leaving on a breathless sigh. He’s still forceful, grabbing me to pull me closer. I shouldn’t like it. I really shouldn’t like it.
Backing me up against the door, he lifts my arms above my head, a shadow of last time. My heart does a flip, but he doesn’t hold them there, instead letting his fingers skim down the undersides until he’s holding my hips again.
Fuck me, he makes things feel good.
When he’s not making things feel terrible, I remind myself.
He kisses me again, and my arms wind around his neck, tugging him closer. Excitement makes my stomach feel light, like I’m flying downhill on a rollercoaster. I guess I kind of am.
His hands roam all over me while we kiss. Caressing, digging, pulling. I’m panting when he finally pulls away, and only then to yank my panties off.
“Tell me what you want, Mia.”
I don’t know what he wants me to say, and I’m too reluctant to answer honestly. I don’t want to want any of this with him. Giving voice to it feels so wrong.
His hand moves between my legs, rubbing a finger across my opening. A shaky breath escapes me, but I won’t answer him.
“Come on,” he coaxes, slipping his finger inside of me, using my slickness to tease me. “Do you want my cock, Mia? Do you want me to bend you over and fuck you like a nasty little slut?”
Something like a squeak slips out of me, but I still won’t answer.
“Or do you want my mouth first? Do you want me to lick that pretty little pussy until you’re crying out my name?”
“Jesus, Mateo.”
He grins like the devil he is. “Mouth it is.”
I push out a breath, uncertain, but there’s nothing hesitant about this man. Planting his hands under me, he lifts me up and carries me over to a white couch along the wall. He lets me slide down his body once we get there, then he pushes down on my shoulders until I’m sitting.
Forget second thoughts, I’m on eighth and ninth thoughts, but then Mateo Morelli, all-fucking-powerful Mateo Morelli kneels on the ground between my knees, and I can’t think anymore. Shoving up the tiny skirt, he leans down and gives me the most intimate of kisses, starting slow, teasing me, enjoying every impatient breath, every shift of my hips. He picks up the pace, his tongue relentless against my clit, and in no time at all, just like he promised, I’m gasping his name as jolts of pleasure shoot through my body.
I sag against the couch, but he comes up and gives me a fiercely sexy look that states without words there will be no breaks here. I scoot as he comes down on the couch with me, hips between my legs, and kisses me.
Our tongues tangle for a minute, then he pulls back just enough to ask, “Do you taste your pussy on my lips, Mia?”
His hands move to his belt buckle, ripping it off and tossing it in the floor before unzipping his slacks.
I take the few seconds to catch my breath, and to my relief, he rips open a foil packet and slides on a condom.
“Touch me.”
I swallow, allowing my hands to roam his body as he comes down on top of me, not entering me yet, just kissing me, giving me time to explore him. I haven’t done this before, for obvious reasons, but I like it. My fingers caress muscles, skate down his flat abdomen. Feeling a little timid, I grasp his cock, enjoying the subtle sounds he makes as I guide him between my legs.
I arch as he pushes inside me, slowly, but stretching me. He doesn’t want to hurt me this time, so he keeps pace, waiting for my body to adjust to his size. I’m wet, but his girth takes some getting used to no matter how prepared you think you are.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
I nod, and he starts kissing my neck again, sending shivers everywhere. My body finally relaxes under his ministrations. He pulls out slowly and pushes back in with far more ease this time. I lock my legs around him, looking into his dark brown eyes, completely aware I’m out of my league by a huge margin.
His pace picks up and he’s fucking me good, murmuring things like, “You like my cock deep inside you, Mia?” and “Your pussy feels so good, sweetheart.”
For the most part, I’m just trying to hold on as he buries his huge cock inside me over and over again.
“Harder,” I finally challenge, burying my face in his shoulder.
Mateo chuckles, obeying me for once. Pounding me relentlessly until pleasure erupts and sweeps over with me with such intensity that I scream, digging my nails into his back. He hisses, still pumping into me, and then groans with his own release, thrusting his hips slowly, wringing every last second of pleasure he can from my body.
This time when he collapses on top of me, I wrap my arms around him and hold him close. My body is still weightless from the orgasm, but I know reality is just on the other side of the wall, and I’m not ready for that.
I knew I would be entertaining at a poker game tonight, but I didn’t know the bet with the highest stakes would be mine.
A few minutes pass, then he finally musters the energy to push up off the couch. I watch him as he heads over to the counter, grabbing a paper towel to clean up.
“Condoms are lame,” he informs me.
“Condoms are necessary,” I disagree. Then, since there’s probably not going to be a better time, I go ahead and ask, “What if I’m pregnant?”
He shrugs, dropping the soiled napkin into a garbage can and walking back over to me. “I still need a son.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking,” he informs me, but lightly.
I want to point out it could be another daughter, but this whole topic makes me sweat, so I drop it.
Mateo rights himself, straightening his clothes and raking a hand through his hair. “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
My face falls, a ball of dread dropping into my stomach.
He glances back at me over his shoulder. “Just kidding.”
“You’re a bastard,” I inform him, still a little uneasy.
“In every sense of the word.” Finally he walks to the door, pulling it open. “When you’re presentable, come back out. We’ll wrap this up soon and I’ll get you home.”
It’s a little surreal and I’m still afraid to trust it, but at this point, what choice do I have?
---
The excitement of the night has worn off, and by the time I’m slogging back to Vince’s bedroom with my heels dangling from my fingers, smelling strongly of sex and cigars, nervousness has moved into the space containing all my hope when I struck a deal with the devil.
I don’t know if I did the right thing. I don’t know what will happen tonight. I don’t know what I’m coming home to.
It’s close to three am, so I shouldn’t be surprised to see him on the couch, asleep, failing in his mission to wait up for me.
I’m so relieved. Stripping the clothes off and shoving them in the dirty laundry basket, I tiptoe to the bathroom and take the opportunity to scrub Mateo off my skin. I stay in the shower, scrubbing until my skin’s red and agitated, letting the hot water beat on me until there’s none left. My mind swims with guilt and fear, but I don’t want to psych myself up. I told Vince I’d wake him up when I got home, so I still have to face him tonight, and I don’t know how.
I put on one of his T-shirts to sleep in, part of me a little afraid it will be my last chance to. Balancing the world’s weight on my narrow shoulders, I approach the couch and get down on my knees beside it. I just want to look at him. His face so peaceful in sleep, reminding me of the time that felt so long ago when he snuck into my house, just to hold me in his arms. I ache for the two kids who snuggled in bed, so blissfully unaware. I ache for the girl who thought he just didn’t want to be tied down, and that was why he refused to give her a label. That girl could never be where I am right now. That girl wouldn’t have just spent 40 minutes trying to scrub another man off her, she wouldn’t have let him fuck her while she wore the $800 heels he bought her.
That girl was free to have a $5 spaghetti dinner with Vince, able to meet his eyes without the strain of guilt, never knowing how much that was worth.
I’m not that girl anymore.
I’m this girl.
And I hope that’s good enough, because it’s all I’ve got.
Reaching out a hand to tenderly brush a lock of dark hair off Vince’s forehead, I give myself one more moment before I give his arm a little shake.
His eyes open, squinting at the light first, but then he sees me. Brushing the sleep away, he pushes himself up in the seat and looks around for his phone. “What time is it?”
“Late. Or, early, I guess,” I tell him with a tentative smile.
His gaze moves over me, taking in whatever he can. “Are you okay?”
“Mmhmm,” I say, nodding. “I’m good.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, meeting his gaze, but feeling my heart plummet as I do. I try to be convincing, knowing I have to sell it—he can never know what actually happened, and now that I know we don’t have to worry about it again, I’d prefer he just think nothing did.
He frowns, as if unconvinced.
I’ve already anticipated this, so still kneeling on the floor, I touch a hand to his thigh. “Something good happened tonight.”
“Something good?” he asks skeptically.
Nodding, I say, “I didn’t tell you on Monday because we were having such a nice time and I just wanted us to enjoy ourselves, but on my way to school, I got stopped by these two guys. Cops.”
Concern jumps in his eyes then, and I’m not sure for whom—his family, himself, me? “Cops?”
I nod. “They asked me a bunch of questions, wanting me to turn on you guys. Promising me safety if I did.”
“Jesus, Mia,” he says, pushing up even more, his alarm growing.
I hurry up the conclusion, not wanting to cause him any further stress. “They were on Mateo’s payroll. He sent them. Obviously I didn’t know that, but…”
He sinks against the couch, dread growing instead of dissipating. “He was testing you.”
I nod again. “But I passed.”
His eyes are still trained on me, full of alarm and confusion. “So…what does that mean?”
“It means I pleased Mateo. Surprised him,” I amend, grimacing at my clumsy wording. “He said he believes he can trust me now. If I would’ve talked, it would’ve been then, when things were so… terrible.”
His gaze drops as he probably remembers how he helped make things terrible for me that particular morning.
I reach for his hand, pulling his attention back to me. “But the really, really good thing is, he’s giving me my freedom back. My life isn’t tied to us anymore, and… and he’s rewarding us.”
Knowing Mateo, he doesn’t appear convinced. “How?”
“He’s going to give us a place of our own. He’s going to let us move out, so things aren’t so hard. So we have a chance to just… be with each other. We’ll have something of our own. Something he won’t touch.”
“Something he won’t touch?” he reiterates, understandably doubtful.
“He gave me his word. Said the game’s over.”
Vince is still frowning. “The game’s over?”
“We’ll come for Sunday dinners, but that’s it. No more of… all this.”
I wait for him to accept it, but he doesn’t. I can understand why. It’ll take time, probably for both of us. I just want us to actually get that time.
“If you don’t want to, I guess maybe I could just go back to my mom’s. I know they’re moving in with Brax soon though, so they won’t have a room for me.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, I… I want to, I just… I don’t understand why he would do this. This isn’t his style. Mateo doesn’t let people out without a heavy payment for it. It’s for the most part unprecedented, and the only time I can think of him actually doing it is in exchange for five years of someone’s life. He’s letting us out because you didn’t talk? There’s no reward for not talking, just a penalty if you do.”
I shift on my knees, wishing he wouldn’t dig into it. “I think he felt bad for all he’s put us through.”
That only causes his scowl to deepen. “He doesn’t feel remorse.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I finally say. “But can we just enjoy this? Who cares why?”
He meets my gaze, searching, and I’m terrified he’s going to find something. I can’t keep the fear from my eyes. I try belatedly to disguise it, but I start to feel sick, knowing I wasn’t fast enough.
Once he finds what he’s looking for or gives up searching for it, he leans back against the couch, his head falling back, and stares up at the ceiling. I feel hot all over, and not from the scalding shower I just took. I can’t come this far, do this much, only to lose him before we even have a chance.
But I can’t even blame him if he can’t do this with me. It’s a lot to handle, and we’re way too young for this shit.
Without looking at me, still staring at the ceiling, he says, “Tell me something, Mia.”
My chest feels hollow, knowing what’s coming. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t tell the truth. Mateo’s words come back to me and I’m so conflicted, I feel sick.
“Of course,” I murmur, hating how hesitant I sound.
Now he sits forward again, leaning on his thighs, and stares me straight in the eye. “Do you love me?”
Relief pours through me that that’s the question. “Yes,” I say immediately, grabbing his hand between mine. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you want to put Mateo behind us?”
I almost can’t breathe with how much. “So, so badly.”
Nodding slowly, still holding my gaze, he says, “Then let’s do it.”
I can hardly contain my joy, moving forward on my knees, wanting to kiss him. But I stop, because as much as I want to, I still feel so… soiled. If he had the images of Mateo’s mouth crashing against mine earlier that night, he wouldn’t want my kisses.
But he doesn’t, so he leans in and gives me the kiss I’m too hesitant to give him. I wrap my arms around his neck, rising up to reach him better. As I’m kissing Vince, and his arms wrap me in a hug that makes me think he’s as afraid as I am of what could come between us, I know the only way is to let it go. That’s why I did all this to begin with—so we could have our freedom. We’re not free of Mateo if I carry him with me.
I’ll lie. If he ever asks, I’ll lie.
And he’ll love me for it.