Marked Steel: A Stand Alone Dark Romance (Steel Crew Book 8)

by Mj Fields

  “I don’t know. Let me know when you become one.”

  Amias gabs me and tosses me over his shoulder.

  “Put me down, asshole!”

  “I was told by the women to get you down there by any means possible.”

  Trying to wiggle away, I tell him, “I’ll give you a thousand bucks to say you couldn’t find me.”

  “Times are tough, rock star. Minor leagues pay shit,” He laughs when I grab the door to stop him from taking me out of the room. “Momma Joe is paying me two Gs.”

  “Max! Three grand if you—”

  “I’m on the parent plan still. I don’t need your three Gs when I have a perfectly fine black card. Oh, you love me and you know it.” He hustles past us and yells down the stairs, “Found her and gave her to Amias. He missed his workout this morning and was looking a little less defined.”

  Momma Joe laughs. “You can spilt the bounty then.”

  ~~~

  Another pill cheeked, the first in a very long time, and I am sitting in the bridal suite, allowing this farse to continue, because everyone around me looks happier than they have in a long time. Why pull the rug out from under their feet now? Maybe this extra padding of bullshit will soften their fall.

  He’s not even here, and they don’t see the reality in his absence. It’s a good thing that they don’t know him that well yet, because if they did, nothing would ease that pain. And I have planted myself in it for the rest of my life. Or, at least his … Matteo’s.

  Brisa is in her glory, as she should be. It’s her vibe that I try to make mine. Everything’s shiny and beautiful. I should probably shove her in this dress, this dress that matches the ring—vintage and completely exquisite. When I tried it on the first time, I felt more beautiful than I have ever felt in my life. That feeling … God, how I wish I could bottle it up and mix it with the way he smells. Melatonin magic. I wouldn’t share it with anyone, because I’m a selfish bitch. So selfish that I have condemned my heart to hell in hopes I can get a glimpse of heaven.

  I stand up and look in the mirror, picturing Brisa’s head in place of mine. I should go pull Ranger out from under the rock he hides under when she’s around, and then the money for this wedding wouldn’t be a waste.

  “Don’t you dare go in there. She’s in her dress!” Aunt Carly yells from just outside the door.

  I look down at the floor, afraid he’ll see me and know that everything is a lie, but I know I can make him believe it.

  I hear a sigh before the words, “Estás muy guapa.”

  I look up and see Matteo then quickly cover my face and whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Mi corazó, no. I’m sorry.” He walks around in front of me and pulls my hands from my face before wrapping his arms around me and hugging me. “It will all be fine.”

  “I know. I do.” I sniff as I step back. “You just have to give me some time before hugging will be okay.”

  “Excuse?” he asks, looking at me in confusion.

  I wrap my arms around myself and step back. The back of my knees hit the chair, and I sit.

  “They’ll love you so much, and you’ll forgive me one day.” I pull my feet up on the chair and hug my knees. “I don’t mean to be selfish, but I can’t just walk away. Marcello will take me back. And I will convince him that fate drove the crazy train, that all the pain we’ve put each other through and endured separately was so he could meet his brother. I will take comfort in that, and maybe you’ll forgive me for being selfish, and we can be friend.”

  “Tris, what are you saying?”

  “You said it so many times, Matteo—be my friend. I want that and—”

  “I don’t want to be your friend.”

  Tears burst from my eyes, and I sniff. “Okay. But—”

  “And what of Marcello Effisto on the day we’re to marry?”

  “He’s your family and—”

  “And you’re to be my wife!” His voice nearly shakes the room.

  “But, I … I … I—”

  “What reason have I given you to believe—” He snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head in anger. “What have you done?”

  “I’ve made sure I can always be a part of your life, whether you want me to or not!” I scream.

  When his face falls, he scrubs a hand over it.

  “I don’t care if that makes me seem even more crazy! I don’t give a damn!”

  Two steps, and he has my hands in his. Another, and my back hits the wall, and he raises my hands over my head and pins them. “You love me!”

  “I kno—”

  My words cease when he crashes his lips against mine, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth with an indescribable urgency,

  I pull my hands from his and grab his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him harder. Teeth, lips, tongues, a mess of a storm. It’s love and loss, need and want, life and death.

  He drops his hands down my body, barely toughing me, yet my skin feels bruised and battered. He wraps his arms around me, crushing me against him, and—

  “If you fuck up that dress, I will kill both of you with my bare hands!” Brisa yells.

  His lips leave mine, and he turns toward her. “Go, Bri—”

  “Oh my God, can you all just stop with the go Brisa shit,” she huffs then the door slams.

  He looks back at me, and I can’t even utter a word.

  The door opens again. “Just saying, we’re running late, and the ministers waiting at the—”

  Eyes searing into mine, he says calmly, “We’ll be just a minute. Ask your father to come.”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “And, Brisa?”

  “Matteo?” she says shortly.

  “Lo siento.”

  “Do you speak English or not? I’m so freaking confused.”

  He steps back, and I grab his shirt. “Please, don’t go. Please, forgive me. Please—”

  “I will ask your mother to come in and help you fix your makeup, even though it is unnecessary. While you’re doing that, I’m going to get changed.”

  “I shouldn’t change then? You still want to marry me?”

  “You should not change, and I am going to marry you now, not tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” I nod then begin to cry. “Okay.”

  “Hush now,” he whispers. “Everything will be fine.”

  “But I—”

  “Nothing matters but our love. Nothing.”

  “Are you okay?” I ask quietly.

  “When I see you smile as you walk down the aisle, nothing in the past will matter, only our future. Mine and yours.”

  “So, change of plans, huh?” Dad asks from behind Matteo.

  “Yes,” Matteo says as he pulls my head forward and kisses the top of it.

  Within seconds, Mom is in the room, and Dad excuses himself to go change and to ask Uncle Cyrus to make an announcement.

  The First Day of Forever

  Tris

  Standing next to Dad, my arm linked through his, I allow myself to take in my surroundings for the first time, through my own eyes. Eyes that are clear because Matteo is a better human than I gave him credit for.

  The sun is setting in the distance, light growing darker, yet still the sun is not lost. The vineyard I chose is perfect, unattached to anyone I know, family-owned and run, rustic but clean and classy. The leafy vines full of grapes and foliage, living and breathing. The ground beneath my heels, hard parked and a rich brown.

  I can’t see the ocean from here, but I smell it, mixed with the sweetness of the grapes and the tiny, white tea roses wrapped in leaves and vines.

  The music begins, and Dad leans down, kisses the top of my head, and whispers, “He loves you, kiddo.”

  I look up at him and smile as I whisper back, “I love him, too.”

  “I know.” He winks.

  “And I love you.” My throat grows thick, and I widen my eyes, hoping to dam up the tears. “I know I have put you through—”

  “Don’t,” he cuts m
e off. “You may have been the most challenging, Tris, but ask me if I’d give away even one of those times, and my answer would be no. Each has brought us closer when it could have torn us apart.”

  “I tried to—”

  “You tried to hide your hurt by pushing us away.”

  “I won’t anymore.”

  “You will. You’re the little baddy of the bunch, and I will walk through whatever fire you start to get to you.”

  “But I’ll be married. Not your problem and—”

  He leans down so he’s eyeball-to-eyeball with me and narrows his eyes. “That man waiting just beyond these vines up there gets a piece of you, yeah. He gets to love you. But I made you, and I loved you first. You’ll always be my little girl.”

  He hugs me, the kind of hug that I would normally pull away from because, like he said, I’m the baddy, but this time, I don’t. I hug him even harder.

  When he chuckles, I look up at him smiling down on me, his smile as big as the sun, but today, I will not seek the shade.

  “Sometimes, it takes being loved in a different light to be able to let others in to see your true colors. Spoiler alert: I’ve always seen them, and I’ve always thought they were beautiful.”

  “Brisa’s the beauty queen.” I smile as I step back.

  “You get pictures back for this day, take a good hard look at you and me. Gonna suck looking away. Gonna have to force yourself to do it, though.”

  The wedding march begins, and he stands to my side and seems to grow a foot.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You look like me. We’re hot as fuck, Tris.”

  I laugh so hard that I snort as we step out from under the covered roof.

  Dad gives me wink. “Let’s strut.”

  “Oh my God, shut up.” I laugh-snort again as we walk onto the path.

  “Like a runway,” he whispers.

  “Seriously, you’re—”

  “Sexy, and I know it.”

  “Dad, stop.” I laugh.

  “Should we dab?”

  “No, no, we shouldn’t.”

  He whispers, “Do the stanky leg?”

  “Stop it.”

  “Hit the Quan?”

  “I’m ignoring you now.”

  Smile on my face that I’m sure matches Dad’s, I stand at one end of the aisle and Matteo at the finish line. When Matteo smiles, my breath is lost for just a moment, and Dad gives me that moment before we begin to walk.

  Each step closer takes away an entire day of the past week at a time, and when I finally get to him, he doesn’t take my hands like I know he’s supposed to; he wraps his arms around me, hugs me, and whispers, “Forever starts now.”

  ~~~

  “Come with me, Mrs. Arias?”

  “I’m never leaving your side again.” I laugh as he drags me behind him.

  He hurries us around the main building, where the family is pulling together a reception a day early, and toward a building. Ranger is standing at its door.

  I start to panic, thinking maybe Marc has come. “Is everything okay?”

  “All clear.”

  “Keep it that way, yes?” Matteo asks.

  “Yep,” Ranger grumbles then walks away.

  Matteo opens the door, and my nerves are stirred for another reason.

  The flowers from my room are placed around a pile of blankets and pillows. Matteo holds the door open and waves his arm, motioning for me to step inside.

  Shutting the door behind us, he says, “Forgive me, but I don’t think I can wait another moment to have you alone. And if you tell me no, in fear your dress will get rumpled, or your hair—”

  “I’ll never tell you no.”

  “We haven’t much time before the others will—”

  I look over my shoulder. “Unzip me.”

  He turns me around. “I want to see your eyes.” Pressing his forehead to mine, he wraps his arms around me and beings unzipping me slowly, in no hurry as he presses soft, gentle kisses on my lips, eyes wide open.

  Once unzipped, he uses his thumbs to push the thin straps of my dress from one shoulder then the next, and my dress slides down my body. He steps back and loosens his tie, slipping it over his head, eyes still on mine as he tosses it to the side and shrugs out of his jacket.

  “Your body is stunning. I can’t wait to paint you.”

  I step forward and kiss him as I begin unbuttoning his shirt, and he runs his hands softly, reverently up my sides until he cups my breasts.

  I bite down on his lower lip as my core clenches and my nipples harden when he brushes his thumbs across them and rolls them between his fingers.

  He releases one so I’m able to finish unbuttoning his shirt and pulls his arm free, one then the next. I reach down to unbuckle him, and he pulls my head closer, kissing me harder, as goosebumps cover my body at the connection, the warmth of his skin burning the chill from mine.

  Eyes wide open.

  He wraps his other arm around me and lifts me. I grab his shoulders when he sweeps his other arm under my knees, lifting me, cradling me in his arms right before laying me down.

  I grab his face and pull him down for a kiss, and then it’s all hands and mouths and teeth and tongues until we both can barely breathe. Still eyes wide open, he kisses down my body, every inch, a lick, a kiss.

  Now between my legs, he runs his nose across my panties, inhaling, and I swear I feel the beginning of an orgasm.

  He sees it too.

  Kneeling between my legs, he pulls my panties down. Kneeling at my feet, he unbuckles his belt and pops the button before unzipping his black pants, stands, and pushes them down. The outline of his cock causes my things to clench.

  “My God, you’re beautiful.”

  And he is. His body, long, ripped, and lean, and when he pushes down his black boxer briefs, my knees shake.

  “Are you all right?”

  “It’s been a long time. I—”

  “You’re not alone in that.” He casually strokes himself. And it is a long stroke. His own hand barely fitting around it kind of stroke.

  Stepping out of his pants, still stroking his—fuck you, Carlos—magnificent cock.

  Dropping back to his knees on the blanket surrounded by pillows and white flowers, he grabs my ankle. “Every part of you is stunning, mi coroźan. I want to feast on your body.” He kisses my ankle then moves up. Between kisses, he says things, beautiful things that make be burn from the inside out. “Taste you, touch you, make you come, and come with you.”

  “Matteo.” I grip the blankets. “I want you so, so bad right now.”

  His lips surround my nipples, eyes never leaving mine, and then he moves above me, holding himself up with one hand, the other stroking himself against my entrance. His eyes roll, and he mutters something in Spanish that I don’t catch.

  “Matteo, please.”

  He presses his lips against mine and whispers, “You never have to ask. It will always be yes.”

  Inch by inch, he pushes into me, my body trembling, stretching, burning, as he continues this slow entrance.

  He wraps his hand around and hitches up my leg, spreading me farther, giving him more access and the ability to lay above me, between my thighs completely.

  “You’re so wet, Tris. So hot. So tight. So perfect.”

  His elbows beside my head, I spread my legs farther until he is finally fully seated inside of me.

  “My God,” I moan as I arch my back, my nipples pressed against his skin to alleviate the ache.

  He rolls his hips once, twice, three times, grinding against me, causing friction to tease my clit.

  I wrap my legs around him and begin to move right along with him slowly, so slow, because … God, it feels so good. “You feel so … amazing.”

  “You’ll come this way.” He grinds down harder, and my insides clench.

  “Mmhmm,” I whimper.

  “Good. I love seeing you come.” He grinds against me again. “I want to make you co
me every day.” He kisses me. “I want to feel just like this.” He pulls out then pushes in harder this time, and electricity begins to pulsate inside of me.

  “Like this?” I meet his next thrust.

  “Just like this,” he groans, pulling out and thrusting in harder.

  And just like that, our bodies find a rhythm, thrusting, grinding, kissing, eyes connected, seeing each other’s pleasure, our bodies seemingly knowing each other’s next move, and connect in a way that is … incredible.

  He cups my tit, stroking his thumb over my aching, hard nipple, and then he squeezes, rolling it between his fingers, again and again, and again.

  His thrusts hasten as we look at each other. I know he sees it before I even cry out, “I’m gonna—”

  My back arches, and I cry out as an orgasm rolls through me.

  He pushes up on his hands and continues thrusting in and out, one leading to another, and the third. My God, the third is met with his.

  Matteo rolls to his back, bringing me with him, and whispers, “I gave you my heart, Tris, pledged my forever. Now I give you my soul.”

  “I love you so much. I am so—”

  He sits up and wraps his arms around me, kissing me hard, then whispers, “You are so late for your own reception. What will the guests think?”

  Smiling against his lips, I say, “Knowing that crew, they’ll think we came out here to consummate our marriage.”

  Smiling, he picks something out of my hair. “You are my family, and now, so are they. And that is all the family I want and need.”

  I search his eyes for something—sadness, anger—yet I see nothing but contentment and happiness. “Same, Mr. Arias.”

  He smiles. “Thank you, Mrs. Arias.”

  I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly, like Dad gives hugs. “I love you so freaking much.”

  High

  Matteo

  Walking hand in hand back to the place that Tris chose as our wedding venue, I can tell she’s high, and my God, its beautiful.

  I know that it isn’t likely to last for a long time, but I will take it when it comes, and I will also take the low times, too, even if someday she gets angry with me. I’m man enough to see it and understand it.