Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories

by Michelle Windsor

  "Not now, Evie."

  Matteo came upstairs later and later, and often, I was asleep by the time he came to bed. He was usually gone when I woke up. The rare times he appeared before I fell asleep, he would shower, slide into bed, and without a word, take me, his touch needy and desperate. The only words he spoke were in passion, as he groaned and shook above me.

  "I need you, my wife," he would whisper. "I love you, Evie."

  But he no longer held me.

  When I woke up this morning, I realized he hadn't touched me in a week. The last three nights, I slept alone.

  In desperation, I talked to Lila, who listened quietly as I spoke.

  "I feel as if I'm losing him already. I don't know what I've done wrong."

  She sighed, rubbing my arm. "Nothing, Evie. Matteo is very new at this." She paused. "I shouldn't tell you this, but they are working on a new situation. I think this is Matteo's way of trying to protect you. He becomes obsessed and different when this happens."

  "Different?"

  "Do you remember when you met him?"

  "Yes." I shivered, thinking of that night. His coldness, and the fact I had watched him kill people without blinking or showing remorse.

  "I think," she began, and sighed again, "I think he is finding it harder, given the more tender side you have brought out in him. There are two sides to him, and he is trying to keep them separate."

  "I know who I married. I accepted that when I agreed to become his wife."

  "I know. And he will figure out the balance. Be patient and love him. He will come back to you, and once he does, you can talk to him about it."

  "All right. I will try."

  "Come have lunch with us next week. Give Sonya the chance to know you more."

  "She seems so tense when I am around."

  "Sometimes, she needs to be pushed. She would never be rude to her brother's wife, so if you join us for a meal, she will stay."

  "Maybe I could make something?"

  "She loves your cookies. Matteo brings them by on occasion."

  "Okay, I will."

  She glanced over my shoulder. "You have a lot going on over there."

  "It's our one-month anniversary. I'm making Matteo his favorite dinner. I even did special cookies that Mark delivered earlier to remind him."

  "I'm sure the date will not escape him." She stood. "I'll see you next week?"

  "Yes."

  She left, and I finished dinner preparations. I went upstairs, showered, and changed into one of Matteo's favorite dresses. Midnight blue, with an off the shoulder neckline that left my collarbone bare. He informed me it was sexy, and I wanted everything tonight to be what he liked.

  I set the table with candles and flowers. At eight, I got the food ready.

  Then I waited.

  At eight-thirty, I knocked at his office door, but it never opened. I tried the handle, but it was locked.

  At nine, I blew out the candles.

  By nine-thirty, I put away the food, then too tired and sad to worry about the rest of the kitchen, went to bed.

  I poured a bath and slid in, still hoping Matteo would rush in full of apologies, and we would make love in the tub. Then we could go downstairs and raid the fridge together as we had done a couple of other times, and the night would be salvaged.

  But he never came.

  I tried to read, but I couldn't concentrate. I curled into bed, wrapping my arms around his pillow, and gave into tears.

  I was still alone when I woke in the morning.

  10

  Evie

  I was surprised when I went downstairs the next day to find the kitchen cleaned. I wondered if perhaps Lila had done it, but at that point, it didn't matter. I began to look around, mentally preparing the day's menu, when I stopped.

  Why was I bothering? Matteo wasn't going to show up for dinner tonight either. If our anniversary meant nothing to him, then why was I continuing to spend hours cooking only to throw out the food?

  I sat down in the wingback chair, feeling dejected and confused. I stared out the window at the lush grounds. People were working away, keeping it beautiful and pristine.

  Yet, no one ever used or enjoyed it. It was a waste.

  It hit me.

  Just like this house.

  It wasn't a home. It was a façade for Matteo's task force. It was where they planned their missions, plotted the deaths of those who they caught.

  I shivered. Matteo had stated he wanted a family. Children. I glanced around, trying to imagine happy little toddlers in this large, rambling house. Would their laughter ring out or would they be silenced, cast to an unused spot in the house as not to disturb anyone?

  Tears filled my eyes at the thought. I wouldn't allow that. I wanted my children raised in a home filled with light and love. For them to be happy.

  "I fear your clothing is suffering again."

  I started at the sound of Matteo's voice. He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets. He looked exhausted, his shoulders bent and his expression weary.

  I dashed away the tears from my cheeks and stood.

  "I'm sorry, coffee is not yet made." I slid by him. "I'll send Mark your mug once it is ready."

  "Evie—"

  I ignored him. "Did you want breakfast? After all, you missed dinner last night."

  "Breakfast would be most appreciated."

  I hated his formal tone. "Perhaps you could sleep once you've eaten," I informed him, desperately trying not to fling my arms around him and beg him to talk to me. To let me in.

  "I slept on the sofa in my office."

  Those words hit me, making my chest ache.

  "Your sofa must be more comfortable than our bed since you spend more time sleeping there than you do with me these days."

  "I didn't wish to disturb you."

  I rolled my eyes at that weak excuse, huffing a sigh as I took a mug from the cupboard. “Whatever,” I muttered.

  "I don't like that frown on your face or the rude expression," he snapped.

  I slammed the mug I was holding on the counter. "And I don't like being ignored! Where were you last night, Matteo? You missed our anniversary dinner. If fact, where are you any night these days? At least you tried when we first got married!"

  He crossed his arms. "I'm a busy man. Something I explained to you when we got married."

  "You also said you loved me, and I was your entire world. You told me if I needed you, I only had to ask. But last night you ignored my knock and left me alone on a date that meant a great deal to me."

  "It is something you will have to get used to. Deal with it, Evie. And stop hiding in the kitchen. Go work with the girls and do something useful."

  "I'm not hiding. I make your sister uncomfortable, and I am trying to give her time to get used to me. I thought I was doing something useful," I added, a catch in my voice.

  "And what would that be?"

  "Trying to look after my husband. That, to me, was important. I'm sorry you felt I was wasting my time." I turned away to hide my fresh tears. I reached for the toast that had popped up, the edge burning my finger. I dropped it with a low exclamation, shaking the smarting digit. Matteo appeared beside me, grabbed my hand, and inspected the small blister.

  "It's fine," I insisted, pulling my hand away. "Leave it."

  With a low growl, he picked up my hand, checking it out. He lowered his head, kissing the end of my finger, then slid it into his mouth, easing the burn with the cool swipe of his tongue. His eyes met mine, blazing with intensity. I couldn't look away.

  Slowly, he pulled my finger from his mouth, kissing the end. "I'm not doing a good job being a husband to you," he confessed in a low tone.

  I seized the opportunity to get him to open up to me.

  "Lila says you have a case."

  "Yes. It is very…difficult." He huffed out a deep breath. "Sometimes, the images burn into my brain, and I can't see anything else, Evie. I don't want to poison our martial bed by bringing those im
ages with me."

  "Maybe if you'd let me hold you and lose yourself with me, I could help erase those images." I dared to reach up and cup his cheek, running my fingers along his tense jaw. "At least for a short while."

  He furrowed his brow.

  "I want to help you, Matteo. I want to be a good and supportive wife to you, but you have to allow me to do so."

  Suddenly, I was in his arms, encased fully in his embrace, with his mouth hard on mine. His kiss was desperate and possessive. His body screamed of tension and need. He held me tight, crushing me so close I could barely breathe. His hands never stopped in their exploration, tugging at my clothes and dipping underneath to find my skin that longed for his touch. I whimpered as he lifted me to the counter, and he licked and nipped at my neck, his groans muffled and low.

  "I need you now. Right fucking now." He buried his hands in my hair, forcing me to look at him.

  "Don't deny me this. Tell me yes. Please forgive me and tell me yes."

  "Yes," I breathed out.

  Seconds later, he slammed into me. There was nothing gentle or sweet. It was possession and claiming. His need was rampant. He gripped me, his thrusts deep and steady, his breath hot on my neck.

  "Evie, oh God, love. You…I need…fuck!"

  I cried out his name, letting him take me, needing him as much as he needed me. I began to tighten around him, moaning and pleading, wanting to feel him as deep as he could be. He lifted my legs, shoving them against my chest, and pushed harder. Deeper. Hitting a spot that I didn't know existed.

  Seconds later, I came. Hard, shaking, and crying out his name. He followed soon after, collapsing on my chest, panting and sweating. His face was buried in my neck, and I was startled to feel the dampness of his tears on my skin. Wrapping my arms around him, I kept him close, running my fingers through his hair in soothing caresses.

  "I'm here, Matteo. For you. You need to let me in."

  He tightened his arms, then drew back, and allowed me to see his torment.

  "This case is horrendous. It's killing me," he confessed. "The images and atrocities are beyond even my comprehension. It leaves me so ill, I'm having trouble coping."

  I ran my fingers through his hair. "Don't shut me out, Matteo. Come to me. Let me be the light for you."

  "I come to you each night, Evie."

  "But I wake up alone," I said, confused.

  "I cannot bear to wake you. I worry I will disturb you since I cannot sleep. I watch over you as you slumber. It gives me the only peace I find these days." He frowned. "Except the past few nights, you haven't been resting. You're fitful, and you cry out in your sleep. You calm when I hold your hand, but you still seem to need something."

  I cupped his face. "I need you, Matteo. I sleep well in your arms. Without them, without you, I am lost now."

  His eyes widened. "But I…"

  I shook my head. "Even if you can't sleep, even if you need to make love to me, or talk to me all night, I would prefer that to an empty bed and not feeling as if I am enough for you."

  He crushed me to him. "You are, my beauty. You are all that keeps me going right now."

  "Then show me."

  "I don't know how." He shrugged his shoulders. "This is so new to me. I don't know how to let you help me."

  "Where is everyone?"

  "They are all exhausted. We’re waiting for some more information before we proceed. I sent them home until lunchtime to rest."

  "Then come upstairs with me and sleep. I'll hold you and you can rest."

  He hesitated.

  "Please, Matteo. For me."

  Without another word, he lifted me into his arms and carried me upstairs.

  For the first time in days, I felt complete.

  11

  Evie

  Matteo slept hard. With his body curved around me and his face buried in my neck, he was out instantly. I ran my fingers through his messy hair and watched him. Even in sleep, he appeared distressed, his brow furrowed, and his full lips pulled into a frown. Gently, I traced the dark circles under his eyes, hating the exhaustion written in his skin.

  He burrowed closer. "Need you," he mumbled. "Love you so much…"

  I vowed not to let him push me away again. He needed me. He loved me. I wouldn't let him down.

  Later, when he woke and showered, I made him a late breakfast, tsking as he wolfed it down. He was starving.

  "I missed your cooking," he admitted.

  "You need to eat. No more skipping meals and not coming to our bed. No matter how awful the day is, Matteo. Your men need you to be strong, and ignoring your health is not helping." Leaning over, I cupped his cheek. "I need you."

  He covered my hand with his own. "I need you, as well." He sighed. "I will try to do better, Evie."

  "I know you will."

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small box, setting it on the table.

  "What is that?"

  "Your anniversary present."

  Tears filled my eyes. "You did remember?"

  "Yes. I had planned to be here, celebrating with you. Then Garrett called and everything went to hell." He drew in a long breath. "I was so sickened by what I found out that I couldn't face you. Anyone. I coped the only way I knew how."

  "By being alone."

  "Yes."

  "No more, Matteo. Even if you are struggling—especially if you are—you need to come to me. If you can't talk, it's fine. Just let me be there for you."

  He studied me for a moment, then captured my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. "I will."

  He nudged the box my way. "I had this made for you. I hope you like it."

  I opened the lid, my eyes widening at the sight. There was a pretty necklace, delicate and lovely, nestled on the velvet. It contained a tiny polished stone, a piece of a shell, and a creamy white pearl, arranged in a clear locket. All things I had found on our honeymoon and brought home. The pearl had been in the oysters we ate one night. The stone had glittered in the water, and I had never seen colors like the broken shell had possessed. Matteo had teased me about the silly items, but never mentioned them after we got home—I assumed he had forgotten about them. They had sat in a small cup on the shelf, and I had planned to do something with them, but he had this made for me instead.

  "It's a reminder for you of our honeymoon. I had the stone polished, so it looks the way it did in the water, and the jeweler smoothed out the edges of the shell." He stood and fastened the delicate chain around my neck. He pressed a kiss to the nape of my neck, then sat back down. "You can think of happier times when you wear it."

  "It's perfect. Thank you." I touched the cool metal. "I didn't get you anything. I wanted to make you your favorite dinner."

  "May I have a do over?"

  "Yes. Tonight?"

  He shook his head, looking regretful. "Saturday. I promise you Saturday night and Sunday you have me."

  "All right. I can live with that."

  He drained his mug and stood. "I'll see you later then, my wife." He kissed me, his mouth lingering. "Thank you."

  I watched him walk away, his shoulders held back and broad. Although still tense, he wasn't as beaten down. He was strong and sure.

  I was determined to make sure he remained that way.

  Around eight, I walked down the hall, carrying a tray. I had sent a sandwich with Mark earlier, and the plate had been returned empty, so I knew Matteo had eaten. But a sandwich wasn't enough to keep him going. I took a deep breath as I approached the door, which stood ajar. I heard voices, papers rustling, keyboards being used, and I paused, waiting until I could pick out the timber of Matteo's voice.

  "Next week. Wednesday. We break this up and rid the word of this scum."

  There were murmured approvals.

  I raised my hand and knocked loudly. The door flung open and Mark looked at me, startled. "Evie? I mean, Mrs. Campari? Is there a problem?"

  "Yes." Hiding my nerves, I walked into the office, knowing half a dozen pairs of eyes wer
e on me, none more intense and curious than my husband's.

  "Gentlemen, in the kitchen you will find a pot of stew and freshly baked bread. The table is set and you can help yourself to food."

  No one moved.

  I cleared my throat. "I have dinner for my husband, and I must insist he eat. That you all eat. You need your strength."

  All eyes went to Matteo. He stared at me, one finger running over his bottom lip, reminding me of the night he had found me. He stood unhurriedly, unfurling his body from his chair.

  "My wife's cooking is not to be missed. Go and eat. I will let you know when you can return."

  They nodded and left, their quiet thanks a hum in the air. Mark was the last one out, shutting the door behind him.

  Knowing Matteo wanted me shielded, I chose a sofa in the corner of his large office, away from the computers and files scattered around. I sat down, setting the tray on the table. "I have your dinner. Please eat."

  He sat beside me, and I handed him the steaming bowl. He settled back, draping a napkin over his lap. I tried not to gawk at how incredibly sexy he looked, but it was impossible not to notice. He had his shirtsleeves rolled up, showing his toned forearms; the tie loosened with the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His hair was a mess, meaning he had run his fingers through it repeatedly. He met my gaze, smirking at me.

  "Like what you see, wife?"

  "Very much."

  His smile returned, letting me know he was pleased.

  He tried a mouthful, chewing slowly, savoring the taste. I picked up my smaller bowl, tucking my leg under me and taking a mouthful. Matteo didn't speak for a while, but he hadn't thrown me out, either. He ate quietly for a few minutes, then cleared his throat.

  "This is delicious."

  "Thank you."

  "Unexpected, but delicious."

  I lifted my gaze, meeting his eyes. I wasn't sure how he would react to my unanticipated move, but I was pleased to see a teasing glint in his stare.

  "How bold you're being this evening, Mrs. Campari. Checking me out, plying me with food. Braving the lion in his den, so to speak."