Sex, Lies, and Joysticks

by Lynn Chantale

  After all, that was what Matteo was good at—vanishing from existence. Lincoln should never have let that man anywhere near his wife. He gulped the single malt. The liquid burned, then hit his gut with a hiss. Who was he kidding? Matteo had enamored them both.

  The man respected the rules they’d established and how valuable marriage was to both of them. Lincoln’s first impression of Matteo? Humble with a heavy dose of lost, wounded little boy.

  Over the past couple of years, Lincoln had watched them both grow and become stronger. Matteo never lost that humbleness, but there were times when Lincoln glimpsed a hard edge in the man that only came from harsh living. The fight with him on his last day was a good example. Matteo could’ve easily mopped the deck with him. Instead, the man chose to take Lincoln’s abuse. Chose.

  Lincoln shook his head. He’d had three long months to think about his actions. About the relationship he’d sabotaged and the friendship he’d lost. And Matteo had been his friend.

  When Randa was busy, Lincoln had someone else who enjoyed sporting events. The best part had been not leaving Randa alone for long periods of time. All that was fine until Matteo fell in love with his wife.

  And what made it worse, Lincoln hadn’t liked the way his wife looked at another man. It had been several years since she’d stared at him like a love-struck teen.

  Maybe he’d lost a piece of her when she learned of his infidelity or maybe when they decided to open their marriage, and he just never gained it back. He swallowed the rest of his drink and signaled the waitress for another.

  “What’s so bad that you’ve got to have a second Scotch?” Jacqui’s sexy purr tightened his groin. “Everyone is having a great time, and the feedback from the classes you’ve taught is wonderful.”

  Lincoln closed his eyes as gentle fingers moved through his hair and then massaged the tight muscles at the base of his skull. He stifled a groan as she nipped his earlobe.

  “I can think of a better way to handle all this tension than getting drunk,” Jacqui said.

  He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. They typically limited public displays of affection, but right now he needed the contact and her reassurance. As if sensing his need, she cradled his face between her warm palms and pressed her lips to his.

  The last thing he wanted was to be nice, and for a time, he forgot they were in the hotel bar in view of anyone who chose to see. Lincoln threaded his fingers through her auburn hair and pulled her head back so he could take over the kiss. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was a claiming, a branding. She was his for the next four days, and he was going to make sure she knew it.

  At a quiet thunk, he glanced up. The waitress had returned with his drink. He released Jacqcui. There would be time enough to do what he wanted in the privacy of his room.

  “Let’s do both, and we can talk about it later.”

  Jacqui slid off his lap and settled in the chair next to his. “What’s bothering you? Is Randa okay?”

  He scowled and snatched the fresh glass of Scotch from the table. Maybe he shoulda ordered the whole damn bottle.

  “Randa is fine, other than missing Matteo.”

  Jacqui’s eyes widened. “She and Matteo split? But she—they were so happy. You said so yourself.”

  Lincoln gulped the liquor and hissed when it went down the wrong pipe. He shrugged off Jacqui’s efforts to pat his back as he coughed. Served him right for meddling in a perfectly good relationship because of his own insecurities. The worst part was he hadn’t told Jacqui what he’d done.

  “Did they have a fight or something?” Now her moss-green eyes held worry. “I should really give her a call.” She reached in her bag for her phone.

  Lincoln grabbed her hand; the contrast between her toffee-almond complexion and his paleness seemed more pronounced. “Don’t. Just don’t.” He shook his head. “They didn’t have a fight. He left.”

  “When did this happen?”

  He shrugged, unwilling to divulge the truth that it had been months. “Anyway, I’m trying to find him and bring him back as her Christmas present.”

  She was silent, but he could feel her gaze boring into the side of his head. Stealing himself with another swig of Scotch, he faced her. Smooth toffee-colored skin, full lips, and soft chin. Most days she smiled, showing off slightly bucked teeth and a gap, but now accusation hung in her gaze, and he flinched.

  “You broke them up, didn’t you?”

  “Good God, woman. Do you have to be so negative?”

  She threw up her hands. “I can’t believe you, Linc! She has supported you and us, but the moment she finds a little bit of happiness, you sabotage it?” Jacqui stood. “Don’t bother coming to my room tonight. The door will be locked.”

  Linc grabbed her wrist as she turned to walk away. She glared at him.

  “Wait. You don’t understand.”

  She snatched her hand away and planted it on her hip. “Let’s see. You got jealous at their relationship, and you ran him off. Is that what I don’t understand?”

  He resisted the urge to look away. As always, she was correct. “He wasn’t who he purported to be.”

  “Matteo could’ve been a reformed serial killer, and yet he made Randa happy. We all have a past, Lincoln. You just didn’t want him around your wife anymore.”

  Jacqui was too damn perceptive for her own good, and she was too close to the truth for his comfort.

  “He wasn’t a reformed serial killer.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it literally.”

  “What you don’t understand is that he really is a killer.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, a few people died in your custody,” she pointed out. “Does that make you a killer?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not the worst part.”

  “There’s more?” she scoffed.

  “I have a daughter.”

  * * * *

  Randa stared at Matteo. Disbelief at his words and joy at seeing him warred for supremacy. She touched her fingertips to her lips as if to hold the kiss they’d just shared in place.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” she murmured. “Lincoln wouldn’t hurt me like that.” And yet it had a ring of truth to it. Whatever her husband had done could wait. She surged forward. Matteo was here. He caught her around the waist and hauled her close as she fused her mouth to his.

  She grabbed a handful of his hair as she clung to him. By God, he wasn’t a dream. Everything she was, how much she missed him, how much she loved him, how much she desired him, she poured into that kiss. It was as if they’d never been apart.

  Matteo cupped her butt while he yanked her shirt free from the waistband. She sighed when he snatched her shorts down and plunged two fingers into her wet vagina. Heaven. Simply heaven.

  RANDA STRUGGLED TO free the fly on his jeans. His cock was so hard and thick the zipper wouldn’t budge. Without breaking the kiss, he knocked her hand away and jerked down the tab.

  Belatedly he remembered one thing. “Randa, baby.”

  She smiled up at him and stepped away. He dropped into a nearby chair as she disappeared around a corner. A few seconds later she returned, a small, black square package between her forefinger and thumb.

  The corners of his mouth tipped upward. She still kept the condoms in the same place, but it wasn’t necessary. She stood in front of him; uncertainty flickered across her face. He made the decision for her. He removed the condom from her fingertips and set it aside.

  “There has been no one but you.” He grabbed her waist, and she straddled his thighs. So many nights he dreamed about being deep in her heat that often he woke with a stiffy so hard a cold shower wouldn’t alleviate his need.

  He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as Randa slowly lowered onto his cock. Hot. Tight. Home. When she was fully seated, he grasped her hips to keep her from grinding on him. His control was slipping. She was tighter than he remembered.

  “I need you so bad,” she murmured a
s she nipped his ear. She flexed her hips, despite the hold he had.

  Matteo groaned and released her. Death by pleasure was a far better way to go than what he’d just been through, and if these were to be his last moments with her, he wanted them to be happy ones. She rocked back and forth, a slow, gentle rhythm designed to build her pleasure and prolong his.

  He dragged her sweatshirt over her head and captured one pert nipple between his lips. Her muscles clamped down on his cock. He groaned. She wasn’t making this easy for him, but he would make sure this was good for her. He teased her other nipple. She squeezed his shoulders as she drove down onto his dick, her bare ass scraping his thighs.

  Such beauty. He angled away, just enough to fit a hand between their bodies and tease her clit. Her orgasm hit faster than he had expected. She shuddered and came apart in his arms, her vaginal muscles working his cock in rhythmic abandon. It was more than his meager control could handle. He tossed his head back and yelled his pleasure to the ceiling.

  Randa dropped her damp forehead on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Their combined ragged breathing was loud in the silence.

  “That is not what I intended,” she said with a chuckle. She lifted her head, and a frown tugged at her lips. Now that the initial shock and haze of passion had worn off, Randa focused on him. “Matteo. Oh my God. What happened?” She placed her hands on his face, her touch so gentle he closed his eyes.

  “It’s nothing.”

  She shot him a dark look.

  “Really, babe, it’s nothing.”

  “Your lip is split, and…” She turned his head to the side. “That looks like a knuckle print. Were you in some kind of fight?”

  If only it were that easy to explain away. He wasn’t going to lie to her, so he remained silent.

  “Stay put. I’ll be right back.” She stood, retrieved her clothes, and disappeared from view.

  Matteo stood on wobbly legs. He hadn’t meant to ravish her, but he needed her, needed that connection again.

  He washed his hands at the sink and then lifted his shirt to place a cold towel along his ribs. Now that some of his initial endorphins were wearing off, the pain returned.

  A small gasp and a clatter sounded behind him. He whirled to find wide-eyed shock on Randa’s face.

  “Oh my gosh, Matteo. What happened to you? And don’t tell me nothing.”

  He dropped his shirt and blinked in the overhead light. Before he could recover, cool air skittered across his midsection. Warmth followed, sending a shiver of want down his spine.

  Randa was on her knees, her breath tickling the hairs on his abdomen. If she weren’t tending to his bruises, he’d grab a handful of her hair and feed her his cock. Her mouth was almost as good as her pussy.

  “Matteo! You were in some kind of fight.”

  “A couple thugs jumped me.” That much was true.

  “For what? Were you flashing your wallet in a bad part of town?”

  He grinned. He had done that once or twice, but the people who had come after him were after more than his cash. They were after the life of his family. There were secrets he knew that could destroy important people. Secrets that had the ability to keep him alive, but now people wanted him dead.

  And just to prove they could get to him, there were photos of Randa and Lincoln. Not at home, thankfully, but photos of them anyway.

  He sucked in air as something frigid pressed to his flesh. The ice pack eased the tenderness from his side.

  “Dammit, woman!”

  She giggled. “Serves you right.” Once finished, she gained her feet and faced him. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”

  RANDA KNEW TROUBLE when it walked through her kitchen, and Matteo was definitely in some type of distress. The few times he’d opened up to her about his life, he spoke of being a veteran, but he wouldn’t say which branch.

  She knew not to pry. Her father fought in Vietnam, and he seldom spoke of his military past. Randa figured Matteo’s time had been just as traumatic, so when he did speak of any missions or his fallen comrades, she did her best to listen.

  She studied his face, more rugged than handsome with its square jaw and angular cheekbones. Rather than the bruises dusting his face detracting from its natural beauty, they added character.

  The feature that drew her most was his eyes. They were an anonymous brown, but there was such depth and clarity to them she had to know the man. She had to learn his secrets and respect the ones he couldn’t share.

  “You have to know it was never my intention to hurt you when I left. I thought it would be better to go than for you to hate me.”

  “The fight you and Lincoln had. Was it about what I asked you to look into or something else?”

  While she waited for a response, Randa twisted the cap off a bottle of antiseptic.

  He didn’t respond, so she grabbed a handful of cotton balls, poured a generous amount on a few, and then dabbed them to the cut on his lip.

  When he hissed, she smirked. That’s what he got for leaving her without a reasonable explanation.

  “I will retaliate if you do that again.”

  Randa met and held his gaze. “You left me. Then after three months, you come back all banged and bruised up and make quick, hot, passionate love to me. I’m not complaining about the quickie, but you left. After all the promises you made, after the trust we built, and after telling me I was the only home you’ve ever known.”

  She punctuated her speech with an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball to his various cuts and bruises. Finally he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

  “You’ve made your point!” Humor and pain filled his voice. “Your cure is worse than the prevention.”

  She wrenched from his embrace. “After all this time, you still don’t trust me enough to tell me why you left or even why you came back?” She busied her hands with putting away the first-aid materials and discarding the soiled ones. All she wanted were answers. So many months she’d pined away for him like some love-struck teen, and now that he was here again, she wasn’t going to settle for pieces of information.

  “Randa, I shouldn’t tell you this, but…”

  She held up a hand. “Are you going to stick around? Because if what you have to say is just to appease me so you can walk out of my life again with no explanation, then you can leave the same way you came in. I can’t go through that type of betrayal or hurt again.”

  Silence became her companion as Matteo scrutinized her face. She hoped he found trust as well as the love she still held for him. The hum of the fridge cycling through joined the quiet click of the furnace and the hiss of steam through the radiator.

  Would he really tell her why he came back or why he left in the first place? And was Linc the real reason?

  “I didn’t want to leave, but I haven’t been completely truthful to you and Lincoln,” Matteo said.

  Randa focused on him, watching the play of emotions on his face. For the first time since she’d known him, he wasn’t hiding how he felt. She gripped the counter behind her for support. This was yet another level of vulnerability she’d only glimpsed on rare occasions.

  She shook her head. “I know you have a past. You did things that were part of your job. You don’t—”

  He placed a finger to her lips. “I never thought we’d hit it off so well, and the longer I stayed, the more I didn’t think it was necessary to tell you.”

  She moved closer, needing to touch him.

  “I left because Linc discovered my real identity. I don’t know how he did it, because the information was buried by the best. What I told you that night was just a fragment of the truth.”

  “So even after you told me, and you knew I was okay with who you were or are, you still left?” She shook her head. “We could’ve talked about it.”

  Frowning, he ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s so much deeper than that, Randa. Whatever Lincoln did to discover my real identity, he tipped off an enemy. We ar
e all in danger now. I came back to warn and protect you.”

  She stepped away, the full magnitude of his words hitting her with the same force of his abandonment.

  “Randa, someone is coming to kill you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Does Randa know anything about this?” Jacqui looked up from the papers on the desk in front of her and stared at him above the rim of her glasses.

  Lincoln dragged his fingers through his hair. “She doesn’t know anything that I’ve discovered about Matteo’s past or Melodee.” He turned his back to stare out the window into the deepening night. Somewhere in the distance, an engine whined as an unseen vehicle trudged through the snow, followed by the scrape of metal on asphalt. At least the hotel was trying to keep up with the snow.

  Reflected in the glass, Jacqui frowned at him. “What?”

  She shook her head.

  He whirled to face her and closed the distance between them.

  “The guy was a highly decorated military officer,” Jacqui said. She swept a hand toward the papers scattered across the desk. Many of the sheets had black lines over most of the text. “And I definitely don’t want to know how you got access to classified information. Most of this file is redacted. Seriously, Linc, this guy seemed perfect for the situation with your wife. The fact that he loves her is a bonus.”

  “He still lied about who he was.”

  Jacqui pursed her lips. “Did he or did he not tell you about his military past and that he was some kind of secret agent?” Her eyes brightened when he didn’t answer. “That’s it! He never spoke of his past, so you took it as a lie so you could evict him from your life, and now you need to bring him back. And what of Melodee? You can’t keep her a secret forever.”

  “The time hasn’t been right.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Three months.”

  Silence.

  “What?” Lincoln said, his tone exasperated.

  “Unbelievable!”