Surviving Mateo (Morelli Family, #2)

by Sam Mariano

  Mateo’s gaze is glued to me now, his dark eyes narrowed with irritation. “You like Joey now?”

  My stomach bottoms out at the edge in his question, not even an attempt at joking. The whole room tenses.

  “I was being friendly,” I state, keeping my chin up.

  “Very friendly.”

  “What can I say, I’m a friendly person,” I shoot back.

  Placing his glass down on the edge of the desk, he advances in my direction. “That so?”

  I don’t move. I get the impression Joey wants to, but he’s stuck in the chair with me in front of it, and I’m not budging. Mateo comes to a stop right in front of me, so close I can feel his breath, breathe his scent. All he’d have to do is lean in just a little, and he could kiss me.

  I meet his gaze, unflinching. I want to bait him, but I won’t, not in front of his family. I want to ask him if I’m supposed to be intimidated. If we were alone, I would.

  I wish we were alone.

  All I can say is, “So friendly.”

  His eyes narrow, and he remains right in my face. “Be a little less friendly.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Fire leaps in his eyes and he grabs my arm, jerking me away from Joey.

  Mia jumps, gasping, but I remain unfazed.

  “I warned you about calling me that.”

  He’s right up against me now, backing me against the wall, so close I’m afraid he can feel how fast my heart’s beating. Since I don’t want to push him too far but I do feel like pushing his buttons, I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I have a suggestion for where you can shove your warnings.”

  For the longest moment of my life, he stares at me in disbelief, like I must have legitimately lost my goddamn mind.

  Finally, he clips out, “Leave.”

  I bow my head and go to scoot past him, but his arm darts out in front of me and he plants his hand against the wall, blocking me in.

  “Not you. Them. Dinner’s over.”

  “But… we haven’t…” Alec trails off, clearly at a loss.

  I glance at Mia, whose eyes are wide in a sort of ‘oh shit’ look that can’t mean anything good.

  No one else says a word. They put down drinks and push out of chairs, filing out of the room. Adrian is last, and he closes the door, since we’re obviously going to need privacy.

  It’s only us now, so I meet his gaze. I’m not sure if he wants to kill me or fuck me, but it’s definitely one of the two.

  “You’re not afraid of me.”

  It’s not a question, but I answer it anyway. “No.”

  “Why?” he demands.

  I shrug, my eyes dropping to his massive shoulders. There’s power in every inch of him, from the finely sculpted muscles in his body, the sharpness of his mind, to the absolute power he obviously has over everyone in his life. It’s just good sense to be cautious of him, and I can’t explain why I’m not.

  “I don’t know,” I finally admit. “I think if you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve by now.”

  “You don’t know me,” he says. It’s not a challenge, just a statement.

  “You don’t want me to,” I return, shrugging one shoulder.

  He watches me for a moment, then clips out, “Don’t flirt with my relatives.”

  “Fine.”

  “Don’t flirt with anyone.”

  “Would you like me to just cut my vagina off while I’m at it?”

  His other hand slams into the wall beside me, and that time I do jump. He has me firmly trapped between his arms, mere inches from his body, but I still hold his gaze.

  “What’s your game?” he asks.

  “Scrabble.” His eyes narrow, but I just smile. “I already told you I’m not playing any game.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Finally looking away from him, I say, “Believe what you want, Mateo. Should I go make dinner or is it really canceled?”

  “Get on your knees.”

  My stomach drops, but strangely my loins stir at the same time. This isn’t like the other times; he doesn’t want me, he just wants to dominate me. I’m not Meg, I’m a mouth, and I don’t want to be.

  And yet, I’m not allowed to tell him no. This is part of the agreement I made—whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Only I don’t want him right now—inconvenient, given how many times I have wanted him.

  Since I can’t say no, I stare at his shoulder blankly. “Is that an order?”

  “Did it sound like one?” he asks carefully.

  I meet his gaze. “I just want clarification. Are you a man who wants a woman to suck his cock right now, or are you a master punishing your slave?”

  If the look on his face didn’t tell me I’m the most vexing woman he’s ever met, the pronounced rise and fall of his chest as he clearly struggles with his desire to strangle me certainly would.

  “You want me to fuck you, Meg?” he finally asks, dropping his hands from the wall and grabbing my hips. “Is that what you want?”

  “Not right now, no,” I say, but he’s already pushing my panties down my legs, and my pussy is reacting to the dominance.

  “You don’t want me?” he asks, pressing his erection between my legs anyway.

  “I don’t want to be used by you,” I correct, bringing my hands up to push against his chest.

  “What if I want to use you?” he asks, leaning in to nip at my earlobe.

  “I won’t stop you,” I state as he uses his knee to nudge my legs farther apart.

  “Good,” he says, making quick work of unbuttoning his pants.

  I swallow, unprepared for him to grab my ass and lift me. I try to reach for something to hold onto, but there’s nothing. He enters me hard and I groan, slick but not prepared. Bracing me against the wall, he holds me suspended in the air, his cock pounding relentlessly between my legs. This isn’t for pleasure; he’s just making a point, staking a claim of ownership. Despite his attempt to reprimand me, each deep plunge brings me closer to a climax.

  “You like that?” he asks roughly, thrusting deep. “Is this what you wanted?”

  Still annoyed with him, I say, “Eh, a little to the left.”

  A bark of laughter surprises me, but he’s shaking his head with a hint of genuine mirth as he shifts his hips and drives into me.

  I gasp, throwing my head back against the wall, and boy does he look proud of himself.

  “Better?” he asks, so damn smugly.

  I want to keep talking, but I can’t, because oh my lord, the friction. “Don’t stop,” I breathe, moving my hips to meet his thrusts.

  So of course he does. He pulls out of me, lets me down, and I stare at him, betrayed.

  “I just said—”

  He turns me around and bends me over. I grab onto the wall, spreading my legs, and before I can finish complaining, he’s entering me again. God, he feels so good.

  “How about that?” he asks.

  “If you stop this time, I’m going to wrestle you to the ground and ride your cock until you let me come.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, but he doesn’t stop. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Don’t stop fucking me,” I return, pushing harder against the wall, as the force of him fucking me is running me dangerously close to a concussion.

  Mateo buries his cock inside me over and over, again and again, until finally I’m rocked by an intense wave of pleasure. “Oh my god,” I cry between moans, riding out my orgasm as he continues to fuck me. Weak from release, I lose my grip on the wall, but I grab it again and try to stand long enough for him to finish. He does, a minute later, right inside me.

  I’m startled at first, but I guess there wasn’t really time to grab a condom.

  Once he recovers from his own orgasm, he spins me around, tugging my dress down, and gives me a deceptively gentle kiss.

  “So… dinner?” I ask.

  Cracking a smile, he shakes his head. “Go to my room. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  “Oh… okay
.”

  “Bring water. We’re going to need it,” he states.

  Chapter Ten

  I’m dragging ass Monday morning as I go about my cleaning routine.

  It never occurred to me that maybe Mateo hadn’t fucked me yet because he might not have time, but after losing an entire night in bed with him and only making it back to my own an hour before Lily woke up, I’m starting to consider the possibility.

  Apparently, the man is insatiable.

  I’m not complaining. Unless I have to sit down. Then my muscles get a little pissed, but all things considered, I’m more pleased than displeased.

  When I head downstairs for lunch, I’m surprised to see Mia sitting in the foyer, playing on her phone.

  “Hey,” I say, glancing around to see if Vince is with her.

  Leaping from the bench, she runs over and hugs me. I’m completely unprepared for it, but I hug her back, despite my utter confusion.

  “I am so sorry,” she says.

  Blinking at her, I ask, “For what?”

  Her pretty face clouds with confusion and she frowns. “For last night? I shouldn’t have suggested that. I just thought—”

  “Flirting with Joey?” I ask, trying to catch up.

  “Yes. I should’ve known he wouldn’t be a normal person—”

  I stop her. “No, that was a good idea. It worked. Good call. I mean, it might’ve been nice if he didn’t require pissing him off to get him going, but hey, whatever works. Is that, like, his thing, you think? Am I going to have to piss him off every time?”

  She’s still frowning, and now looking up like she’s reviewing her own thoughts. “I… I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him legitimately angry. I definitely don’t ever want to.”

  Shrugging unapologetically, I say, “I’m kind of mouthy.”

  “You really shouldn’t be trying to date him,” she states, shaking her head. “You’re a match made in hell.”

  I grin at her. “Can you follow me? I’m really hungry. Want me to fix us some lunch?”

  “I’ll help,” she says, following me. “But seriously, is it too late to reconsider? I really feel a strong preference that you continue living, and I’m not sure you’re gonna survive Mateo.”

  “I’m doing okay so far,” I assure her. “Besides, I’m not really trying to date him; we’re just… having fun.”

  “What made you want to work for him, anyway?” she asks.

  I open the fridge, grabbing ingredients to throw together some sandwiches. “I wouldn’t say I had a lot of other options.”

  “Ah,” she says, her nod knowing. “The Morelli trap. Been there.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, curiously. “How did you meet Vince?”

  “We went to the same high school. And then other Morelli trap things happened, and I also didn’t have a lot of other options. Only one, in fact,” she says, jerking her thumb in the direction of Mateo’s study. “And far less stable.”

  “Gotcha,” I say, reaching into the cupboard for plates. “Well, you’re probably not wrong. Stable is not one of the words I would use to describe Mateo thus far, but I don’t know, I kind of like him. I’ve never met a man so observant; I could’ve spelled out what I was doing for my husband—did, in fact—and he would still have no idea. Mateo, he pays attention to everything.”

  “Because he’s trying to catch you in a lie,” she points out.

  “Sure, if we’re splitting hairs, but that’s still pretty cool. This is not a guy who’s ever going to forget a birthday, I’d bet on that. His mind is a steel trap. I love it.”

  She’s staring at me like I’m an animal on display at a zoo, but she’s nodding, like she kind of digs it. “Okay… so, you actually like his crazy, paranoid, suspicious tendencies.”

  I put my hands out like scales. “Paranoid suspicious tendencies, rapt interest…. Who’s to say where the line is drawn?”

  Still a little perplexed, she shakes her head. “Did you say you’re married?”

  “Widowed.”

  Gasping, she says, “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. You’re so young.”

  I’m a few years older than her, but I get what she’s saying. I am young to be a widow.

  “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

  Grimacing, I grab a slice of cheese and layer it on top of the meat. “I mean, I’ll tell you, but if I do it’s just going to further your belief that I’m crazy. Maybe we should leave it?”

  She grabs the mayonnaise, shaking her head. “Now you have to tell me.”

  Well, I warned her. “He was a gambler. Racked up a lot of debt with a lot of dangerous people. Mateo was one of them.”

  Her eyes widen at my implication, and I nod. “Wow.”

  “Am I too crazy to be your friend?” I ask, offering her a faint smile. “I’ll understand if I am.”

  “Just crazy enough, I think,” she says, but she’s still shaking her head in disbelief. “Did he know you? Did Mateo… like, did he just want to free you up?”

  “Oh, God no. No, I don’t think he would…” I pause, rocking my head back and forth. “Well, maybe he would do that.”

  “He would,” she says, not even conflicted.

  “Well, in this case he didn’t. No, we met after. And now I’m here.”

  “And you don’t hate him?” she questions.

  “My husband was a train wreck. I’m not glad he’s dead, obviously, but…”

  I’m just planning to eat here in the kitchen like I usually do, but Mia heads for the dining room. When I don’t follow, she turns back and says, “Come on.”

  I follow her, but without a lot of confidence. “I don’t think I’m supposed to eat at the table.”

  Unconcerned, she takes her usual seat. I sit down across from her. If Mateo was here, we’d be on either side of him.

  I smile a little at the thought. “So, you and Vince used to live here together, or just you, or… how’d that work?”

  “Vince lived here, then when Mateo found out about me he moved me in.”

  I quirk an eyebrow. “When he found out about you? Were you a secret?”

  Mia rolls her eyes. “It’s a long story. He drove Vince crazy, and eventually he let us move out. It’s been a lot better since. I mean, no pool and fewer pretty dresses, but a worthwhile trade-off. What about you, what were you doing before you got mixed up in all this?”

  “Bookkeeper. Super boring, but I like numbers. I was also waiting tables through last Christmas, but that didn’t leave pretty much any time to spend with my daughter.”

  Her eyes widen as she swallows a bite of her sandwich. “You have a daughter?”

  I nod, wishing I had my phone to show her a picture. “Lily. She’s three.”

  “You’re…. young.”

  “Yep, 23,” I say, flashing her a smile. “She wasn’t planned.”

  Nodding, she glances at her plate. “You want more kids?”

  “Eventually, sure.”

  “Mateo wants a son,” she remarks.

  I glance up, surprised. “Oh, it’s way premature to be talking kids. We literally just started sleeping together. I’m his maid.”

  “You’ve met Cherie, right? She and Vince share a dad. Also, I don’t think Mateo is too particular about who he procreates with.”

  I frown, recalling all the times we had sex last night and this morning, and how none of those times involved a condom. “That’s not cool.”

  “He’s past 30 and has no son,” she states.

  I shrug. “He has a daughter. Fuck the patriarchy, am I right?”

  Mia laughs—but she doesn’t just laugh, she nearly dies. Tears actually leak out of her eyes. “Oh, Meg.”

  “That wasn’t one of my better jokes,” I point out.

  “No, it was. It was,” she says, swiping tear leakage from her eyes.

  ---

  It’s dark and I’m so comfortable, I never want to move. I lift my head, looking at Mateo asleep next to me, basked in the moon light. He’s really handso
me in all light, but moon light definitely works for him.

  I’m tempted to stay put, but I need to get back to reality. It’s so easy to get swept up in a whirlwind of sex and leisure, but the alarm on his nightstand tells me I’m going to have to wake up in two hours, and I haven’t actually slept yet.

  Squeezing my legs together, faintly sore from being soundly fucked all night long, I can’t say I have a single regret. Still, it’s time to return to my Cinderella gig until darkness falls again.

  Slowly easing out from under the comforter so as not to wake him, I roll toward the edge of the bed.

  An arm locks around me, yanking me back.

  His voice, so sexy with hoarseness from having just been asleep, startles me, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I look back at him over my shoulder. “Back to my own room.”

  “Request denied,” he replies, his arm still secured around my waist.

  “I have to be up in two hours,” I inform him.

  “Then I can have at least one more,” he says, leaning in to kiss my shoulder blade.

  “You are a machine,” I inform him. “My body doesn’t understand what to do with all this stimulation.”

  He chuckles lowly, resting his head back on the pillow. “Your husband didn’t know what to do with you, huh?”

  “He certainly did not have your stamina. And he was younger than you, so I guess kudos?”

  “I have plenty of energy for the important things,” he replies.

  “Well, it’s nice to see how I rate,” I tease.

  He releases me, but just enough so I can roll over to face him, then he drapes his arm across me again. “Tell me something about your life,” he says.

  “Before I came here? What would you like to know?”

  He shrugs. “You have family?”

  “The one I made, mostly. I have a mother, but she’s flaky and we aren’t close. My dad cheated on her when I was like two and I haven’t seen him since they split, so I barely remember him at all. No siblings that I know of.”

  “Never looked?”

  “Didn’t care.”

  He smiles at that. “Not a family person?”

  “I like the one I created. Lily’s all I need. Rodney… I hoped he would be better than he was, but I ended up doing everything on my own anyway, just with the fun addition of a boulder strapped to my belt as I tried to carry us.”