Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories

by Michelle Windsor

  "The bathroom is there. Have a shower and clean up. I will return with Geo."

  "My clothes…"

  "My robe is on the back of the door. Clothes will come soon."

  "O–okay," I whispered.

  "You can do this, Evie. I have faith in you."

  I could only nod. I had no choice.

  I emerged from the bathroom, clean and wrapped in Matteo's long robe. He was talking with another man; their voices hushed. When he saw me, he held out his hand, and I went to his side.

  "Evie, this is Geo."

  Geo stepped forward, holding out his hand. His silver hair gleamed, and his hazel eyes were kind. "Evie."

  "Hello."

  Matteo brushed my wet hair away from my cheek. "She was attacked, Geo. Please check her over for me."

  "May I?" Geo asked, addressing me, not Matteo. "I won't hurt you."

  "Yes."

  "Then let's get started."

  My mind reeled. Two hours later, I stood in front of a stranger, a man I had witnessed murder three people, and married him.

  Father John was a small man with a gleaming bald head. He looked pleased and didn't even blink at marrying us. Instead, he beamed as he pronounced us husband and wife. Matteo stood tall and handsome, wearing a deep gray suit, the expression on his face somber. I wore a dark blue dress Geo's wife, Lila, had brought to me. It was simple, with long sleeves, to cover my bruises. My hair was down, and my feet bare. I had no shoes.

  I was shocked when Matteo slid a slender diamond band on my finger, then slipped his hand under my chin, lifted my face to his and kissed me. His lips were soft and full, and his touch surprisingly tender. When he smiled at me, his eyes were warm, and he drew one long finger down my cheek.

  "Forever," he murmured. "You are now mine forever."

  I had no words to respond.

  His men stood along the wall, witnessing our union. I signed the papers put in front of me, silent.

  I sipped at the glass I was handed. As he promised, Matteo rarely left my side, his hand spread wide on the small of my back.

  There were three other women in the room, aside from me: Lila, Sonya, and Lara, all who seemed friendly enough, although Sonya kept her distance. Lila checked on me often, telling Matteo I should sit. He led me to a chair, gently pushing me down onto the cushion. He leaned down. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes."

  "This will be over soon." He frowned when I shivered. "I will get something for your feet."

  He turned and left.

  Lila sat beside me. "You are very pale. Geo wants you to rest."

  Geo had been kind, and thankfully, fast. He had scowled over my bruises, made sure nothing was broken, and assured me I would be fine. He had spoken discreetly to Matteo, who met my gaze as he nodded at whatever Geo had to say. I didn't question him—I already knew better.

  I looked at her, unsure how to reply. I didn't know if I should talk, remain quiet, or give in and cry. I was lost. She reached across and took my hand.

  "Evie, I know you’re scared. I know this must seem like a dream." She smiled kindly. "Or a nightmare."

  I glanced down at my lap.

  "Sometimes," she continued, "things are not as they seem. Matteo is a good man. Honorable. And despite what you have witnessed, compassionate. Give him a chance. You may be surprised at what you discover."

  "You–you know him well?"

  "He's Geo's nephew. I have known him for a long time. He married you today and spoke vows. I promise you; he takes his vows very seriously. He will take care of you." She cocked her head to the side, studying me. "I think you may be good for him."

  Matteo re-entered, carrying some socks. He kneeled in front of me, pulling the socks on my feet. "These will keep you warm." He reached up and stroked my cheek again. "You are doing well, Evie. Soon you can rest and tomorrow we'll begin. All right?"

  I glanced at Lila who was fondly watching Matteo. I thought of what she had said. I heard the unexpected gentleness in his voice. His men were staring at him, and the way he kneeled at my feet. They all looked shocked at his deferential position. I drew in a deep breath and smiled at him.

  "Yes. Thank you, Matteo."

  He stood and kissed my forehead. "Good girl."

  I stood, uncertain, in Matteo's room. He entered, carrying a glass and a bottle of pills.

  "Geo felt some pain killers would help you sleep."

  "Am I sleeping here?"

  He tugged off his jacket, draping it over the chair. "You're my wife, so yes."

  "I—"

  "Relax. I expect nothing, Evie. Geo is worried you may have a concussion. I'll check on you throughout the night."

  "Why are you being so kind?"

  "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?" His brow furrowed as he opened the bottle, shook out two pills into my hand, and handed me a glass of water.

  "Ah…"

  "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness. I'm kind because you've given me no reason not to be." He stepped closer and cupped my cheek. "I hope you never do."

  "I won't."

  "Lila was talking to you."

  "She told me you're an honorable man."

  "And you think I'm a murderer."

  I didn't deny it. But I had also seen something else in him tonight. Something human.

  "I want to believe her. I want to get to know you."

  He studied me for a moment, then wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me close. He laid his cheek on my head. "You smell like me."

  I exhaled shakily, wondering why being so close to him didn't scare me. "I used your shampoo."

  He pressed his lips to my hair. "It smells good on you."

  I lifted my head. He was so tall I had to lean back to see him. He smiled down at me, his dark eyes glittering in the low light. "You are so beautiful, my wife."

  I blinked at him. His tone was low, husky. Provocative.

  "What you saw tonight is only part of my life. I am more than what you think. If you give me the chance, I can prove it to you.

  "I promise you, Evie, you will be safe. Protected. I will do everything in my power to care for you." He paused. "Be at my side, support me, and I promise, you will never have to fear anyone, including me."

  I was mesmerized.

  "I like how it felt when I kissed you. Tell me, my wife, did you like it?"

  "Yes."

  He bent low, his mouth hovering over mine. "I’d like to kiss you again."

  I felt myself tremble. His arms tightened, drawing me up his chest. His eyes drifted shut as his mouth slid over mine. Featherlight, tender, and warm.

  "Touch me," he whispered.

  I slid my hand up his arm, across his neck, and touched the hairs at the base of his head. He groaned low and covered my mouth again. He skimmed his tongue along my lips, slipping inside my mouth. I had never been kissed like that. Languidly, sensuously. His mouth moved over mine, harder, claiming me. He deepened the kiss, wrapping my hair in his hand and tugging my head to the side. Whimpers escaped my throat. He lifted me easily, wrapping my legs around his waist, and holding me tight. I clutched his shoulders, lost in the sensations he created inside me. He broke from my mouth, dragging his lips down my neck. He pulled on my hair, exposing my neck as he licked and nipped. My head fell back, and I gasped in pain.

  He stopped immediately, his eyes wary.

  "I hurt you."

  "No," I insisted. "My head…"

  He cupped my neck. "I got carried away and forgot you're injured. Forgive me."

  I blushed. "I–I liked it."

  He dropped another kiss to my mouth. "So did I. And we'll explore this more, when you're recovered. For now, I'm taking you to my bed, and I'll watch over you as you sleep. Tomorrow we'll talk."

  5

  Matteo

  The painkillers worked and Evie slept. I studied her features in the muted light. She was beautiful. The very second I had seen her in the deserted building, something stirred within me. A deep, protective feeling, almo
st frantic to ensure her safety had overtaken me.

  When she woke and saw me standing over her, the fear in her eyes was nothing new to me. Yet with her, I wanted to erase that fear.

  I knew she had seen too much and I needed her silence. However, I wasn't lying when I told her I didn't kill innocents. My job was to protect them. I could have arranged to send her somewhere far away and have her watched, but something told me this small, frightened woman was in dire need of protection that only I could provide.

  When she tried to kill herself, I knew there was only one option. She was willing to die, and as an alternative, I could marry her. She could leave the life she knew behind and join me in this one.

  I wasn't a benevolent man. I wasn't given to gentleness or affection. The world I lived in was cold, brutal, and filled with blood. Nonetheless, when I could remove myself for brief time periods, the thought of spending them in her company pleased me. Kissing her earlier hadn't been in the plan, and her reaction to me was unexpected, but it also pleased me.

  My plan was simple. Tomorrow, Lara would help her with personal items, Alex would procure new papers, and I planned to punish the man who had so little regard for her life. It would be my wedding gift to her. I also had to pay a visit to my boss. I knew he would have heard I got married. Garrett would be full of questions, and I would have to explain my actions and ask for his understanding. I hoped he would give it.

  Then I would take Evie away for a few days to my island. It was private, isolated, and perfect to get to know each other. I would tell her of my life and my expectations for her. She could heal, rest, and come to terms with her new life.

  She shifted, rolling onto her back. The blanket twisted, exposing her bare shoulder; my shirt she wore, far too big on her. Her creamy skin beckoned, and I thought of how she felt in my arms. How she tasted under my tongue. Her passionate response.

  We would explore a physical relationship soon. I wanted her. I wanted to feel her under me, to bury myself inside her, and fill her with my seed.

  We would be married in every sense.

  She would truly be mine.

  Evie

  I stared at Lara, unsure. My gaze drifted back to the piles of clothes and personal items laid out in Matteo's room.

  He was gone, but there had been a tray with coffee, breakfast, and a note instructing me to stay in the room until Lara showed up. I had a shower, sipped at some coffee, then waited. She arrived with a flourish, her hands filled with bags, followed by her husband Alex. She immediately had me change into a blue shirt and brushed my hair back off my face. She added a little makeup and Alex took my picture. They were kind and patient, but I knew better than to question them. I did only as I was instructed.

  After he left, Lara spread out her purchases, telling me to pick what I wanted, and she would return the rest and get me anything else I wanted and needed.

  "What's wrong, Evie?"

  "I–I don't think I have enough money for these clothes." My wallet was in my jacket, which was gone, and I had given Matteo the cash I stole from Alan. The price tags on the items showed they were all expensive.

  She laughed, patting my arm. "Matteo told me to buy them. I have his credit card. These are for you, so you don't have to walk around in his robe and shirt. Once you feel better you can get more clothes and things." She shook her head. "Matteo will look after you."

  "Oh." I picked up a bathing suit. "I'm not sure I'll need this."

  "Oh, yes. Matteo says you will need some light clothes for your trip."

  "My trip?"

  She bit her lip. "I think he is taking you away for a few days. Like a honeymoon."

  I dropped my gaze, shocked. A honeymoon? Somewhere alone with Matteo?

  I thought of his drugging kisses from the previous night. The way it felt pressed to his hard body. I had felt no fear or worry. Only a burning desire for more. More of him. It had shocked me. I should be trying to figure out how to get away from him, but I didn't want to. His promises echoed in my head. Safety. Protection. "I don't kill innocents."

  Despite what I had seen, the horror and blood, the only thing Matteo had shown me was patience. He was stern and demanding, but he hadn't been unkind to me. In fact, he had shown me more care in six hours than Alan had shown me in six months.

  Matteo asked only one thing. Loyalty.

  I could give him that.

  Then I glanced at the bed and saw the flutter of lace and the gossamer lingerie in the piles. My breath caught.

  He was going to ask for two things.

  I thought of his mouth moving with mine.

  Could I give him that?

  I looked at Lara who was watching me.

  I decided that maybe I could.

  The next two days were confusing. Matteo told me I could go anywhere in the house, aside from his office, unless he invited me in. He said I could go outside and walk the grounds, but I wasn't allowed without my bodyguard, Mark—the giant man I saw the first night. He greeted me with a simple tilt of his head and a "Mrs. Campari." Aside from murmuring into his wrist on occasion, there was no conversation.

  I saw Matteo only occasionally during the day. People came and went. I heard him talk, yell, curse, often in Italian. However, when I did see him in person, he was patient and even with me, never losing his temper.

  He had been delighted the day I made him a sandwich while his housekeeper was out doing errands. I asked Mark to give it to him, and Matteo strode into the kitchen a few moments later, carrying his plate, and sat beside me eating it. He was quiet, lost in his thoughts, but before he left, he tugged my hair to tilt my head, pressing his mouth to mine.

  "Thank you, my wife."

  He was never there when I went to bed, but I felt him in the night. He would slide in behind me, pulling me to his chest. As soon as he was there, I drifted into a deep sleep, feeling strangely safe in the arms of a murderer.

  On the third day, Mark informed me Matteo wanted to see me in his office. I entered, looked around curious and nervous.

  "Sit," Matteo instructed, not looking up from a pile of papers.

  I sat, stomach churning. Had I done something? Gone somewhere I shouldn't? Usually, if I ventured too far, Mark would make a low noise in his throat, and I would step back closer to him. The high fence seemed to cause him the most displeasure.

  "Did I—did I do something, Matteo?" I murmured, my throat dry. "I didn't mean to."

  He looked up with a frown. "Not at all, Evie." There was a knock at the door, and he looked behind me with a smile. "Ah, Mrs. Armstrong. Good timing."

  His housekeeper came in, sliding a tray onto his desk, then left.

  "I wanted to have lunch with you. I thought we could eat in here, then talk a little."

  "Oh."

  "What are you feeling guilty about, Evie? The rose you picked in the garden this morning? The chocolate you snuck from the box last night? The croissant you didn't eat yesterday?"

  I stared at him. I was shocked when he winked at me. "I'm a busy man, but I watch you."

  "Why?"

  "You fascinate me."

  I didn't know what to say.

  He pushed a plate toward me. "It won't be as good as yours, but have your sandwich. You aren't eating enough, and I have enough to worry about without adding your health to it."

  I picked up my plate—because he asked me to.

  What was happening to me?

  After we ate, Matteo rounded the desk and sat beside me. "We're leaving tomorrow."

  "Where are we going?"

  "I am taking you on our honeymoon."

  "Oh."

  He handed me an envelope. Inside, was a new driver's license and passport, both with the name Evie Campari.

  "The birthday is wrong."

  He sat back, rubbing his finger over his chin. "No, it's not. You have a new name, a new birthday, a new life." He met my gaze. "Evelyn Gail Anderson is dead. Evie Campari is the only name you have now."

  "I don't understand." />
  "Last night, Alan Newson was arrested on murder charges. A woman matching your description and carrying your ID was found, beaten and strangled. His DNA was all over her."

  I blinked and gasped.

  "He's in custody." He grinned—a cold, frightening grin that reminded me exactly who he was. "He won't make it to the trial."

  I began to shake as I processed Matteo's words. I knew I should feel bad for Alan. But the only thing I felt was relief.

  "The woman?"

  He shook his head. "A Jane Doe. Don't ask."

  I nodded, with a long exhale.

  "You have no family, and as you told me, you know nobody here. Your old life is over. You are my wife, and you will be safe. He will pay for hurting what is mine." His fingers drummed on his knee. "For hurting an innocent."

  "Is–is that what you do?" I asked. "Kill those you decide deserve it?"

  "Do you really want to know?"

  "Yes. I need to understand. Are you with the mafia?"

  "All you need to know is that I work with an organization of considerable power. I run a very elite crew."

  "You kill people. You're an assassin—a gun for hire."

  He chuckled, leaning forward, running a finger down my cheek. "No, I'm not a gun for hire. You watch too much TV."

  "I don't understand."

  "When I was fifteen, my sister was kidnapped. Until then, I was just a normal kid. My life changed overnight. Every waking hour was spent trying to help my dad find her. My mom was a lost cause, crying and drinking all the time."

  I reached out for his hand. "What happened?"

  He looked at our joined fingers and smiled. "My dad was one of the good guys, you know? A cop. But he had nothing. Just a bunch of dead ends. Even his fellow officers thought she'd just run away. There was no ransom note, nothing."

  "But she hadn't?"

  "No. I saw it happen. I saw the men who took her. One night, I snuck out of the house and went to a bar. My friend was always bragging about his uncle's illicit life and his ties to the underworld. The power he had. We went and found him. We told him what happened, and what I saw. He believed me."