Chapter Seven
After Adrian brings me back to the Morelli mansion, it’s time to start work. I’m feeling a lot better about my circumstances now that I’ve talked to Adrian. There are still some obvious down sides, but I’m committed to making the best of things.
The maid named Maria shows me around the massive home, explaining how they rotate cleaning schedules. Apparently I’m the third maid, but Elise might be leaving soon.
“Mateo wants you to work his wing, so you’ll be responsible for him. Nobody in this house can make a bed to save their life, so after he rises, if you’re not responsible for breakfast that day, you come up, you clean, you make his bed—make everything perfect for him. More important in his wing than the others. I wouldn’t have started you here, but…” Her gaze moves over my body, then she rolls her eyes and continues on.
“How do I know if I’m responsible for breakfast? How do I know what to make? And how much?”
“You can do breakfast with me tomorrow. I will show you.”
She goes on to explain we make breakfast and dinner every day except for Sunday—unless we’re specifically requested for some task, Sunday is our one day off every week.
“Yeah, he mentioned something about a Sunday dinner,” I remember.
“Someone still helps out on Sunday, keep dinner going while the women eat, but my daughter usually does it.”
That catches my interest. “Your daughter lives here with you, too? How old is she?”
“Cherie, 17. You will meet her.”
“You just have the one daughter then? Have you worked here long?”
Brusquely tossing a stack of white sheets on top of the utility cart she pushes, she says, “No, I have a husband and two grown sons back in Mexico.”
That surprises me. “Oh. Wow, that must be… very hard. Do you go visit them often?”
“No,” she says, turning to give me a look that feels lecturing, though I’m not sure what I’ve said to make her mad. “This isn’t as bad a place to work under the younger Mateo like it was with the older one, least not for me, since I’m an old woman. Might be different for you. This isn’t a job, you don’t get vacation. My husband sold me to Mateo’s father. I’ve been here 20 years. I’ll die here.” She shrugs. “No point feeling sorry for yourself.”
I can’t keep my jaw from falling open as she summarily dismisses me.
“Elise will be doing dinner tonight. You can help her.” Then, glancing at my jeans and gray T-shirt, clearly unimpressed, she adds, “Ask her to borrow a uniform first.”
---
I want to feed Lily lunch, but I don’t know how to do anything. By the time I even find the nanny, she’s already fed my daughter as well as Mateo’s.
“Momma!” Lily says, running over to hug me.
Mateo’s daughter remains in the floor with a mountain of Barbie dolls, but she has her father’s brown eyes, and they watch me hug Lily.
Once Lily’s done, she runs back over to continue playing. I follow her, crouching down in the floor and offering the Mateo’s little girl a warm smile. “I’m Meg, Lily’s mom.”
“I’m Isabella,” she tells me, still watching me with her intense little stare. “Me and Lily are just playing Barbies.”
“That’s very nice,” I say, grabbing one of the dolls and smoothing back its hair. “Lily really likes playing Barbies. How old are you?”
“Five. I’m gonna go to school soon,” she informs me, grabbing a Barbie doll with glasses. “This one’s the teacher. I was showing Lily about school.”
“Yeah,” Lily agrees, settling back into her spot and grabbing one of the smaller dolls. “These girls go to her school.”
“I’m glad to see you’re playing nice,” I tell Lily, gently rubbing her back.
“Uh huh,” she says, nodding enthusiastically.
“Mommy has to work through dinner, so I won’t be able to eat with you.”
“Oh, I already had some dinner. Me and Isabella did that,” Lily informs me, apparently unconcerned. “Ju made us rice. It was really yummy.”
They catch me up on the goings on in Barbieville for a few more minutes, then I make my way over to the nanny. “Thank you so much for watching Lily. She’s been going through a lot of changes lately, and… I’m sure it helps to have a friend.”
“They get along well,” she informs me. “Isabella likes having another child around. For too long, it’s only her. Her father is very protective.”
“Yes, I’ve gathered that,” I say, offering a faint smile. “Well, I have to help clean up after dinner, but I think that should be it, then I’ll come get her.”
Waving me off, she says, “No worries. I can put her to bed if you’re busy.”
“Oh, no,” I say, shaking my head. “I appreciate that, but I want to put her to bed.”
She nods her agreement, but somehow doesn’t look convinced.
---
I finally meet Cherie at dinner. She’s in the kitchen with Elise, plating salads and lining them up along the counter like it’s a conveyer belt.
“Someone needs to take these out,” she says, putting down the last one.
I feel a bit useless, so I rush to grab them.
“Mateo’s first,” Cherie says, handing me some cranberries.
“I can carry three,” I tell her, having been a waitress a time or two in my life.
“That’s fine, just give Mateo his first,” she advises.
I haven’t actually seen Mateo since last night in his study, so I’m not sure what to expect. I carry three salads out, but make sure to give him his first. His gaze lingers on me, but his face is unreadable. He doesn’t thank me, and I move on to deliver the next two salads.
I’m just about to head back into the kitchen, but Mateo summons me with a simple, “Meg.”
I stop by his side, watching him prepare his salad. “Yes?”
He spears a big forkful, but instead of taking a bite, he holds it up for me.
I blink, thinking he can’t be serious. “You want me to take a bite of your food?”
“Better safe than sorry,” he states, not even betraying a hint of amusement.
“Wow,” I say, rolling my eyes, but smiling. “Okay.” Then I go ahead and take a bite of his salad, remaining there so he can see I’ve swallowed. Then I open my mouth, just to be cheeky.
Now he smiles, turning his attention back to his plate and spearing a bite for himself.
Sighing, I place a hand on his shoulder before heading back to the kitchen.
There are appetizers to go with the salads tonight, so I bring those out next. They’re for each side of the table to share, so I don’t bother waiting around to taste those for him.
There’s a break between dishes, but Cherie brought home some groceries, so she sends me to the pantry to put them away and see where everything is. By the time I’m done with that, she’s already plating the main course.
“You should go clear the salad plates to make room,” she tells me.
When I get back to the dining room to clear plates, I see Elise refilling drinks. They really run this like a well-oiled machine. I can’t imagine being served dinner like this every night. Even at restaurants, I always tidy up the table and stack plates and cups to make as little work as possible for the waitress—and she’s getting a 25% tip.
I’m a little unexcited that dinner is a salmon dish, because I don’t care for salmon at all, and I have a feeling Mateo’s going to make me sample this before he takes a bite, too. Maybe I can just nibble on the sides.
Sure enough, I take out the first three plates, and again, he stops me on my way to the kitchen.
“I don’t like salmon,” I inform him, leaning down and taking his knife and fork from him. I cut the vegetables up and give myself a bite of those. “Mm, delicious.”
“I’m not going to eat that if you don’t take a bite,” he states.
Leaning into his ear, since I don’t know if everyone at the table knows why I’m here, I tell him, “I am not going to poison you.” Leaning back, I say, “Would you like me to make you something else? I love steak—I’ll happily try your steak for you. Chicken? How about a roast? We’ll be waiting a long time, but I can make a pretty mean—”
Before I’m able to finish, he spears a piece of salmon and yanks me down until I’m inches from his face. Narrowing my eyes at him, I nonetheless open my mouth so he can shove it in.
After chewing and swallowing, I say, “Gross. But look, I’m alive.”
“Only because I want you to be,” he reminds me, winking.
“Ditto,” I remind him, with a wink of my own.
He cracks a surprised smile, and I wonder how demented we have to be to be joking about this.
Dessert goes much the same way. I serve him, he makes me sample it, then he eats, satisfied I’m not trying to kill him. I wonder if it’s going to be like this every night, or if it’s only because this is the first time I’m on food service.
When I come out to clear the dessert plates, Mateo’s hand creeps up the inside of my thigh. Desire washes over me and I don’t move, though I’m a little unsure about letting him touch me with his family right here at the table.
No one is seated near him, so we have enough privacy for him to murmur, “How was your first day, Cinderella?”
Biting down on my lower lip, I spread my legs slightly, letting his fingers dip just inside my panties. “Doesn’t that make you my wicked stepmother?”
“I’ll take the wicked part,” he says lightly, breaching me and finding my clit before I can even draw a breath.
“I have to get back to the kitchen to clean up,” I inform him.
“You don’t have to do anything. My house, my rules.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t make the other maids hate me on day one,” I suggest, finding it harder not to react to what he’s doing.
He withdraws his finger, but his hand remains on my leg, moving down toward my knee cap. “I want more dessert.”
Nodding, I pick up his plate. “I’ll bring it right out.”
“No. Let the other girls clean up, I want you in my bed, naked, in ten minutes.”
“Yes, master,” I say, a touch mockingly.
“Don’t tease me like that.”
I flash him a grin, but rein it in before I finish clearing the table.
I have to hurry; I’m actually not sure I can clear the table and get to his bedroom in under ten minutes—especially since I feel terrible ditching the other ladies with all the dishes.
I expect them to be pissed, but when I explain to Cherie that Mateo needs me to do something else, she nods easily. “No problem. Have a good night.”
“I’ll do extra tomorrow to make it up,” I assure her.
Flashing me a smile, she says, “Don’t worry about it. Just be careful with him.”
I don’t ask what that means—I want to, there’s just no time.
I’m a little out of breath by the time I hustle all the way to Mateo’s room. I’m not the one who cleaned his bedroom today, but looking at the mountain of neatly arranged pillows, I think I’m going to need an informational pamphlet to recreate it. I wish I had my phone to take a picture, so I could just copy it.
My maid’s uniform is a plain, fitted gray dress with a white apron over it, so at least it doesn’t take long to peel off. I wore a black bra and panties set, but they feel cheap and inadequate in this bedroom.
I’m not sure how naked he wants me, but since he’s not here yet, I go ahead and strip off the bra and panties. I fold it all and put it in a neat little pile on the chair near his bed, then I begin the process of tossing enough pillows to actually get on the bed. I climb under the blankets to wait for him, and man, what a soft bed. I’m sort of glad it isn’t mine, because I’d never leave it.
The door finally opens and Mateo strides in. I allow myself a moment to really admire this man as he peels off his jacket, then goes to work on the buttons of his shirtsleeves.
“You look good in my bed,” he states, his voice so deep and sexy, I sigh a little.
“It’s a really good bed. I don’t know how you ever leave it.”
“Me neither,” he remarks, ripping his shirt open and climbing on the bed. I don’t move as he climbs across my body, straddling me through the sea of blankets. “Of course, it’s a little more enticing to stay when I have such sexy company.”
“I tried to get here last night, but something came up,” I tell him.
He looks amused instead of irritated at the mention of it. “Oh? You were still going to fuck me after you poisoned me? How thoughtful.”
“I wasn’t going to poison you,” I state, rolling my eyes.
“The poison in your purse indicated otherwise.”
“Maybe it was for me,” I joke. “I bring it on all my dates, just in case they’re really lame and I need to leave. Nothing gets you out of a bad date better than a good poisoning.”
“You joke, but many women before you have gone that route to get away from the Morelli men,” he says lightly.
“I don’t think you’re so bad,” I tell him. “Definitely wouldn’t poison myself to get away from you. I’ll put that in a card for you, if you want. Happy Valentine’s Day, master. I wouldn’t die to get away from you.”
He’s smiling, but shaking his head. “You talk too much.”
“So give me something else to do with my mouth,” I tease.
He runs his fingers down my arms, drawing out gooseflesh, but then he pushes them above my head, pressing me down into his pillow and hovering above me in a super sexy way. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to be here.”
“In your bed? Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” I return, my eyes falling to his gorgeous chest. I like this open shirt thing he’s got going on here. I bring my eyes back to his face, surveying. “You didn’t want me willing? You like a little struggle?” I ask, pushing back. “Did you want to punish me? I was a bad girl last night, you should probably punish me.”
Groaning, he sits back and looks at me. “Where did you come from?”
Now that my arms are free, I use them to explore his torso, then I tug him down closer so I can kiss the hell out of him. I love the feel of his body against me as we kiss, but I want his skin touching mine and there are too many blankets. There’s only a light smattering of dark hair on his chest, just the perfect amount, and I want his hardness, his coarseness, to brush against me.
“Get under the covers with me,” I whisper, breaking away from his mouth.
Yanking them back, he does climb beneath them, finally straddling my naked body. My breasts are no longer covered, so he takes a moment to look at me, his big hands coming up to cover them. I don’t expect him to ask, “When were you last with your husband?”
I can’t keep a faint grimace off my face. “This isn’t pillow talk.”
He smiles slightly, but waits for my answer.
“Um, I don’t remember. A few months? Maybe four?”
He nods, satisfied with my answer. His thumbs brush across my nipples until they’re hard little pebbles. My hips roll up against him and my legs fall open. Once he moves his hips between them, I close my legs around his back, pulling him closer.
“What do you want?” he murmurs, dropping soft kisses along my neck.
“Your cock deep inside me,” I whisper back.
He groans approvingly, nipping at my neck. “That so?”
I nod, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close. “Oh yeah.”
His breath is hot on my ear, catching the lobe between his teeth. “Why?”
“What?” I murmur, not sure I heard him right.
He pulls back, his eyes clear, not hazy with lust like mine must be. “Why? Last night you wanted me dead, tonight you want to fuck me?”
I sag, realizing this was a trap. “We’re still talking about this?”
“You don’t make sense. There’s something wrong with you, or you’re lying. I want to know which one it is.”
He doesn’t move off me, keeping me pinned beneath him, but the sexy times have clearly come to an abrupt stop. I’m a little offended.
“I wanted to fuck you last night, too,” I point out, eyebrows rising. “This isn’t new. I find you attractive, and here we are in this comfortable bed—let’s use it. I already told you. Yeah, that stuff was in my purse, but I changed my mind about it before we even got to the bar. You opened my door for me, you took me to the perfect place—you weren’t a bad guy. Rodney was.” I shrug a little helplessly. “I’m sorry I don’t have a better explanation for you. I didn’t want to hurt you. Once I met you, I liked you.”
“Then you’re wishy-washy. You have no loyalty?”
Scowling, I say, “I’m not wishy-washy in the least. I have all kinds of loyalty. I’m the most loyal creature you’ll ever come across.”
“You’ve never cheated?”
“Of course not.”
“You loved your husband?”
I hesitate. It’s not a long hesitation, but it’s enough. I can’t lie, or he’ll think I’m a liar. “No.”
“Then why would you try to avenge his death?”
I understand why this is sticking in his head. When Antonio suggested it, I thought it was a bad story, too—but I didn’t figure Mateo would know that. I didn’t think I’d actually share with him, and actually enjoy his company, and end up imprisoned under his roof, pinned beneath him in his bed—and wanting to be there. This story was fine on the surface, but a light breeze is enough to poke holes in it.
Instead of answering that question, I run my hand tenderly across his jaw. “Can we please put this to rest? I know I made a stupid, hot-headed mistake. I know that. And, well, I paid for it. I understand why it’s hard for you to accept. But can we please, please leave this alone? I didn’t love my husband, but I do love my daughter, more than anything. And… regardless of my feelings, she’s going to feel this loss, and that infuriates me. It causes me pain, because it will cause her pain. And it wasn’t logical. You’re obviously logical, I’m getting that, but me, I’m human. I reacted on emotion, and I could justify it because your reputation precedes you, and your reputation says you’re a bad guy. I would’ve been doing the world a favor, really. So I did something incredibly stupid that I very much regret, that I regretted immediately, because… because I was supposed to be getting payback, but instead I got reminded of what it’s like to not be chained down by this… soul-sucking weight. I’m heartbroken for my daughter, but in this completely unexpected way, I’m free.”
Here I am spilling my guts, and he’s watching me like he’s trying to piece together a particularly baffling puzzle. “I don’t trust you.”
“Well, you can,” I offer, shrugging. “You don’t have to—I can keep tasting your food and repeating myself until I want to die, but it’s ultimately up to you. I don’t know what you want from me,” I tell him honestly. “You want me under your roof, I’m here. You want me naked in your bed, here I am. You want me to explain last night to you again, I do.”
“It’s too easy,” he says, shaking his head, his eyes locked on mine.
“Well, maybe easy is a good thing,” I tell him, snaking a hand down his abdomen. “If fucking your maid isn’t the epitome of simple, maybe you’re doing it wrong.”
He doesn’t stop me, so I push my hand down the open front of his pants, grabbing his hard cock in my hand and stroking him. “I’m attracted to you, and you’re attracted to me. Simple.”
“Nothing’s that simple,” he murmurs, relaxing as I caress him.
“Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
He closes his eyes, smiling slightly. “No.”
“Then I can’t help.”
“You’re helping plenty,” he says, his head lolling back. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing and we’ll be fine.”
“And what if I do?” I tease, but I don’t stop.
“Well, then I’ll have to punish you.”
“I might like it.”
“Don’t play games with me.” His words are light enough, but there’s something in his tone… something serious. “If you’re still playing me, Meg… It won’t go well for you.”
My heart pumps a little faster at the subtle threat, but I don’t respond. Since my words don’t seem to be getting us anywhere, I decide to put my mouth to better use. I finally stop caressing him so I can push his pants down, and when I do see his cock, I am not disappointed.
“I take back what I said about you overcompensating,” I inform him.
Mateo snorts, but I don’t wait for comment, dipping my head to take his smooth, satiny tip into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around him, sucking lightly, then push down to take more of him into my mouth. It’s no small feat; he’s got more girth than I’ve encountered before, but I love the feel of him. I grip him at the base with one hand and find a good rhythm, stroking him with my hand and pleasuring him with my mouth. His hand fists in my hair, pulling, but I don’t get the impression he wants me to stop, I think he’s just holding on, guiding me. Every little noise that escapes him is encouragement, his groans spurring me on until with a hiss and a shuddering groan the salty evidence of his release fills my mouth.
Swallowing, I use my mouth to suck off any remaining mess, then I climb back up to my spot beside him.
Mateo’s arm moves around me, tugging me close. I didn’t take him for a snuggler, but I’m content to curl up in his arms and let him hold me for a few minutes.