by Sam Mariano
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.
Chapter Eight
Everything goes smoothly the rest of the week.
Well, mostly.
Although Mateo has pulled me aside for a few quick interludes, we still haven’t had sex. It’s not a problem, necessarily, but I do wonder about it. He strikes me as a man who takes what he wants, when he wants it; not a man who moves slowly.
I’m finally off on Sunday, so I spend the day with Lily, and part of the day with Isabella, too. In the main house, I’m told Isabella has a large play room, and there’s a movie theater/media room where we could watch movies, but I opt for something cozier and bring both girls and a few board games to our little area.
Lily and I share a bedroom in what’s called the servants’ quarters, but I’m more comfortable here than I probably would be in the gigantic main house. Isabella beats Lily twice at the board games, and while she accepts it the first time, she starts pouting the second. The third game is a cooperative play game with no winner, so we end on a high note and everyone happy.
After that, we snuggle up on the couch with a bag of microwave popcorn and watch Sleeping Beauty. As we’re nearing the big showdown at the end, Cherie comes in.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” she says, looking at the girls. Lily has given up on the popcorn, but Isabella is still shoving fistfuls of popcorn into her mouth, attention rapt on the movie.
“It’s okay,” I return, quietly. “What’s up?”
Somewhat apologetic, she says, “Mateo wants you to do dinner and drinks instead of me tonight.”
I’m completely unwashed at this point, so this is somewhat alarming. “Oh. Um, okay.”
“Sorry, I know it’s supposed to be your day off,” she says.
I shrug, glancing down at the girls. “Could you get Ju? I’m gonna have to jump in the shower if I have to entertain guests with higher standards than these two.”
Smiling, she nods and heads off to find the nanny.
An hour later, showered and with a little make-up on, I don my maid’s uniform and head for Mateo’s study.
It’s much more crowded tonight, with men in all four arm chairs, and Mateo perched on the edge of his desk.
“Just in time,” he says with a wink, shaking his empty glass.
I roll my eyes indulgently, but grab his decanter of choice and bring it over to refill his glass. “It was very far away. I’m glad I got here in time.”
Once his drink is filled, I make the rounds, filling glasses for the men I’m less familiar with, and Adrian, though he doesn’t always make me fill his.
I don’t expect Mateo to talk to me, since his family members are scattered about the room, but he calls me back over to his desk with a crook of his finger.
“Enjoying your day off?”
“I was, yes.”
“What do you do when you’re not taking care of me?” he asks, smiling.
Rolling my eyes at his wording, I say, “I was taking care of our daughters.”
His smile slips. “Plural?”
I shrug. “Lily and Isabella have formed a fast friendship. Lily and I were having a game day and watching a Disney movie. Isabella wanted to tag along. It doesn’t seem like Ju ever gets a break unless she’s sleeping, so I figured she could join us.” Frowning slightly at the uncertain look on his face, I add, “I guess I should’ve asked? I mean, I asked Ju…”
He doesn’t come up with a response right away, and before he manages to, a younger Morelli man I haven’t seen before asks, “New maid?”
“Meg,” I offer, unsure whether he’s summoning me or asking a question. “You need something?”
“Nope, just never seen you before. How’d you luck into this job?” he asks.
“Head hunter. Saw my resume, made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“You’re pretty,” he remarks.
My eyebrows rise in surprise at the compliment. “Oh. Thank you.”
Mateo cracks a smile. “Don’t tell Mia. If she’s not allowed to talk to the baker, I don’t think you’re allowed to check out my maid.”
“I don’t disallow her to talk to the baker,” the younger guy says, rolling his eyes and taking a drink. “I just don’t like the guy.”
