Resisting Mateo (Morelli Family, #5)

by Sam Mariano

  Francesca covers her mouth to try to cover the laughter she’s failing to completely stifle. She shoots me an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t care. I understand why Sal thinks I’m crazy. He hasn’t experienced Mateo’s neck kisses.”

  Mateo grins. “You think it’s the neck kisses?”

  “I think it’s the brainwashing,” Sal volunteers.

  Mateo shrugs, eyebrows rising. “If she says it’s the neck kisses, I guess it’s the neck kisses.”

  “That must be some skilled lipwork if it can make up for over a month of mentally torturing your second girlfriend for no real reason.”

  “Okay, we’re gonna go get my husband a drink,” Francesca says, taking Sal’s hand and flashing us a smile as she drags him away.

  “I can’t decide if I like him or not,” Mateo remarks, watching him.

  “I think he feels the same way about you. I like him. I say he’s fine.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t trust your judgment.”

  “Hey!”

  He grins, pushing my hair back over my shoulder and leaning in to kiss my neck. I turn into a mindless vessel of pleasure, closing my eyes and sighing as every last nerve ending hums.

  “I shouldn’t have told you that,” I realize, though I can’t bring myself to regret it with his lips moving along my neck the way they are.

  “Don’t worry, you didn’t give anything away. I already know exactly what you like.” As if to emphasize the point, he pushes a hand through my hair tenderly, then gathers it tight in his fist, tugging my head back as his neck kisses get a tiny bit rougher.

  Fuck.

  I need to get off his lap. We do not have privacy, and he’s fast-approaching turning me on to the point that I don’t care.

  I’m already throbbing with need, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. Fisting a hand against his chest, I murmur, “Stop torturing me.”

  “You like when I torture you.”

  “When you can follow it up by fucking me, yes—not when we have to go to dinner.”

  “Anticipation. You can think about how much I wanted to yank this dress up and bury my cock inside you while you bring me my salad.”

  I groan, burying my face in his shoulder. “That is so mean.”

  He trails the back of his index finger down my arm. “Or you can imagine I pushed you in down in the floor, uncaring of who was around, and made you suck my cock.”

  I press a hand against my face, feeling the heat, knowing how flushed I must be.

  “So many possibilities,” he says, casually, as his hand drifts between my legs.

  I squeeze them shut, darting a paranoid glance around us and biting back a grin. “Quit trying to molest me in front of our dinner guests.”

  “You should’ve known better than to sit in my lap,” he remarks, dryly.

  “I never learn anything, haven’t you figured that out by now?” I tease.

  His eyes twinkle with amusement, since at least I’m in on the joke.

  I finally get off his lap and do another round of drink refills before Francesca and I head back toward the kitchen. As soon as the study door closes behind us, she turns eager eyes on me. “You guys seem like you’re doing really well.”

  “We are,” I agree, nodding and smiling. “We’re really good now.”

  She sighs with relief, lightly grabbing my arm. “You have no idea how good it is to hear that. I couldn’t even sleep the night we had lunch. All I could think was, oh my God, it’s going to be Beth all over again.”

  I wrinkle up my nose with dislike. “Nope, I’m not going to be another Beth.”

  “You started to echo things she felt and it hasn’t even been two months. I was freaking out. I didn’t want you to feel like a prisoner, especially because, well, you would be if you were unhappy with him.”

  “I know that,” I assure her.

  Because I do; I’m not a moron. While this past month and a half has not been fun, I learned a couple things from it. Most importantly, the more I resist Mateo, the harder he fights to control me. When he knows he has me settled in the palm of his hand like his lovesick pleasure slave, he doesn’t worry about restricting me.

  That’s maybe why Meg has so much freedom; Meg doesn’t really give a damn about anything outside of these walls. She never fights Mateo on anything, she’s very go-with-the-flow—she even let him have a sister wife. She’s super cool.

  Me, I’ve been a little more of a hassle. As much as I hate to admit it, because I fervently hate Beth, I can see now how Mateo’s love might’ve started to feel like a prison sentence to her. I can see how she fell out of love with him—at the first sign of resistance, he starts stripping you of rights to try to cripple you, trap you, or keep you from trying to leave by whatever means necessary. Another couple weeks and I may have been an actual prisoner in this house. He probably wouldn’t have let me go to classes anymore, because his paranoia might convince him even that was too much contact with the outside world. He already cut my Saturday at the bakery because he didn’t want me to see Mark, but I think now that things are back on track, I’ll probably be able to get that back. There is a side to him, a more controlling side, that you just don’t see unless you’re in a relationship and it comes up.

  I’m not resisting anymore though, so he’s relaxing. I’m not trying to fly away, so I’m allowed to have my wings.

  God help me if I felt differently, but since I know that, I’ll do everything in my power to avoid that ever happening.

  Mateo needn’t worry that I’d try to fix myself; whatever misfires in my brain, it serves me well for the lifestyle I committed to. I don’t want to be fixed. That would be terrible.

  If everyone else wants to think I’m a hapless idiot, more power to them. All my needs are being met—and then some. Nothing unfortunate about my life.

  I gasp, remembering I forgot to tell Francesca, “We’re going on vacation. We’re going to take a family trip to Paris, and then Mateo’s going to take me to Italy for a few days before we come home. We looked through those pictures you sent me and I told him I wanted to go.”

  “And your wish is his command?” she asks lightly.

  “Sexiest genie ever,” I confirm with a nod.

  She wrinkles up her nose. “Hi; I’m his sister.”

  “But you also have eyes, correct?”

  Francesca shakes her head at me as we approach the dining room. “So, this sharing thing—you’re really cool with it?”

  “I am, actually. It works for us. Meg runs the day-to-day motherly, wifely duties. I get all the fun stuff. The only thing I don’t get is my own baby, but we’re working on it.”

  “Do you want a baby already?”

  “Well, no.” Given she is his sister, I don’t share Mateo’s disdain for condoms. “After college I’d like one. I want a little girl. But by then Meg will probably change her mind. She said she’s going to try to work herself up to the idea, so I’m sure it’ll work out.”

  “I don’t know how you manage it,” she tells me. “I’d stab someone before I’d let them sleep with Salvatore.”

  I grin in response as we make our way to the kitchen counter. I forgot to warn her the girls were helping us cook tonight, but Ju is taking them to have dinner with her once they’re done, so it won’t be too much of a shake-up.

  Francesca walks over to Isabella, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Hey, squirt.”

  “Hi, Aunt Francesca.”

  “Look at you girls, helping with dinner. You’re such little ladies.”

  Lily nods her head. “We’re naming the baby. I think Neelah or Kitchen.”

  Francesca blinks. “What?”

  Meg pats her tummy, flashing Francesca a smile. “This one. We found out we’re having a girl, so we’re going over names. I think we’ve settled on anything other than Kitchen; we’re open to suggestions.”

  Inexplicably, Francesca glances back at me, like this i

s crucial news. “A girl?”

  I nod my head. “Yep.”

  I don’t know why that makes her smile. Then I think about it for another few seconds—she probably thinks now I can have Mateo’s heir. She’s so competitive for me, I have to smile.

  “That’s wonderful,” Francesca says, offering a pleasant smile. “Congratulations. Girls are great.”

  “Are you and Salvatore having any honeymoon babies?” Meg asks, leaning against the counter and cocking her head curiously.

  Francesca shakes her head. “Nope, we’re gonna start with a puppy and work our way up to a baby.”

  “Start small—smart.”

  It’s the most civil conversation they’ve managed, so even though it dissolves now, I call it a win. Once Francesca sees that we’re honestly happy with our arrangement the way it is, I think she’ll warm up to Meg. Her main problems with Meg were not believing she loved Mateo enough to stick it out with him when things got tough, and thinking I was a much better fit. Now Meg has stuck it out through him wanting me, and she isn’t in my way at all, so Francesca should be able to see that Meg is totally harmless.

  Well, maybe harmless isn’t the right word. Meg has bared her teeth just to let me know she has them a couple of times, but that’s all in the past now. We’re on the same side again. Now all is well, and we’re making meatballs, planning family vacations, and come Christmas, we will establish the new Morelli family tradition of making Christmas cookies with the little ones.

  And since Mateo clearly didn’t get enough love as a child, or growing up, or at any point during his adult life, we’re going to double team it and fill his cup extra full now to make up for the deficiency. That’s surely how that works, right?

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Meg

  "I bet you and Mia have really hot sex."

  Mateo raises his eyebrows, tugging his tie off over his head and going to work on his cuffs. God, I love watching him undress for bed. Or, really, undress for anything. He's just really good at undressing. There should be an award given, speeches made, a ceremony with servers circulating, passing out champagne.

  "I'm not sure how to respond to that," he says, casually.

  I shrug, looking back at the baby magazine I'm flipping through. I probably shouldn’t be thinking about it at all, but after watching him eye-fuck her all through family dinner tonight, I started to wonder how their sexy time differs from ours. I remember what it was like to get those looks. You haven’t lived until you’ve been eye-fucked by Mateo Morelli. I don’t get them anymore, though. Mia does. And he evidently likes their sexy time better, because he spends way more time in her bed than mine. "Just an observation. I can't decide if I want to see it or not. You and I don't usually have super crazy sex."

  Smirking, he flicks a glance at me as he peels his shirt off. "Am I boring you?"

  "No," I say, rolling my eyes. "Anyone who gets bored with you is a legit crazy person. Like, Harley Quinn levels of psychosis."

  "You like a little more control than Mia does so I just don’t do that with you. I can. Want me to step it up a little? I can choke you. Spank you. Tie you up. Push you around. Want me to get mean?"

  Grimacing as I recall the menace on his face when he told me he strangled Beth, I tell him, "No, I think you choking me is my hard limit. If your hands are ever around my throat again, I'm going to assume I'm dying."

  Because he's him, amusement dances in his eyes as he finishes undressing and approaches the bed. "I'm not going to kill you. I'd miss you. I don't like missing people."

  "Well, thank God for that."

  He climbs up on the bed and immediately climbs on top of me. He leans in and starts kissing my neck, but when he does, I catch the faint scent of coconut.

  "Does Mia mind when you spend two nights in a row with me? Is she going to pout prettily when you go back to her tomorrow?"

  He pulls back, moving off me and into his spot, shaking his head at me. "Why are you so obsessed with Mia tonight?"

  "Hey, I'm just trying to be like the cool kids. First Vince, now you; I'm jumping on board the Mia Obsession Express."

  This causes him to roll his eyes. "I am not obsessed with Mia."

  "Does she coat her nipples in crack before you fuck her? It's okay, you can tell me."

  "Does it turn you on to think of me fucking Mia?" he asks, watching me.

  "I mean, it's not the worst mental image a person could have. You're both sexy beasts. I'm just so fascinated by your dynamic. She looks at you like you're God and you're so cruel to her sometimes; you have to work actual magic on her with your dick."

  "Mia likes it when I'm mean to her," he tells me. "I could do anything I wanted to her, however fucked up, and still have her worshipping my cock in three minutes flat."

  "Except murdering her loved ones," I point out.

  "Even that. It's just too hard on her emotionally. I only want to play with her; I don't want to actually break her."

  “Does she like when you’re mean to her in bed?”

  “She likes to be used.”

  “Did you give her a safe word or something, that way she could stop you if she ever actually wanted to?”

  “She doesn’t need one.”

  Grimacing faintly, I say, “Isn’t it better safe than sorry, though? Don’t get me wrong, your dark spells are a blast to live through, but since we’ve all survived this one and we’re starting to sail on calm waters again, maybe we should take every precaution we can to make sure we don’t have to go through this shit again. No killing loved ones, a safe word so we can be sure all the sex is above board, sharing time between us so we don’t get bitchy. Stuff like that.”

  “I’ve got everything under control,” he assures me. “Trust me. Mia wouldn’t like having a working safe word. She likes being stripped of her control. Then she has to trust me. She gets off on it.”

  I shake my head, flipping the page to check out which strollers are trendy now. "You guys are all sorts of fucked up."

  He shrugs, unconcerned. "That's why I do it with her and not you."

  I glance over at him. "I mean, I would play like that if you wanted me to."

  "I know you would," he assures me. "But you couldn't mean it like she does."

  "Goddamn sincerity."

  He smirks. "She has an abundance of it."

  "She sure is lucky you found her and not some psycho." Playfully smacking myself in the forehead, I say, "Oh, wait."

  Now he outright grins, grabbing the magazine I'm still leafing through and putting it on the nightstand. "She could've done a lot worse."

  "Yeah? How?"

  "I could be poor. Or ugly. Or have BO."

  "You do smell really good," I say, as he straddles me again. "And Mia would be sad without all those shoes."

  Nodding, his mouth grazing my earlobe, he says, "Someone else may have actually hurt her. I never will."

  Closing my eyes, I tell him, "I'm very glad to hear that."

  “Plus I come with a bonus best friend,” he says.

  “I guess we are a pretty sweet deal,” I agree.

  His hand creeps down over my protruding belly, dipping between my legs. "Are we done talking about Mia now?"

  “I’m gonna start calling her Crack Nipples.”

  His free hand comes up to cover my mouth. “Shh.”

  I grin, planning to keep talking as soon he moves his hand. Anticipating that, he covers my mouth with his, and well, kissing him more fun than talking, so he wins.

  ---

  “Oh, my God, it’s so cute I wanna die.”

  I’m in the middle of texting Mateo to let him know Operation Buy Rosalie’s First Dress has been completed (even though he doesn’t really care), but I spare Mia a smile while I type. “Yes, I caught onto how much you liked it at the store when you literally bounced with joy.”

  Mia holds up the cute, frilly baby dress we picked out for Baby Morelli’s homecoming. It’s still months off, and we definitely didn’t need to pick it out yet, but Mia loves to shop and apparently when you see the perfect dress, you just know. Sure, it’s not her baby, but since I’m not letting her have one, I figure I can let her pick out the outfit our baby will come home in.

  “She’s going to be so tiny and adorable. I’m not jealous of the labor, but I’m totally jealous of everything else.”

  “Mateo doesn’t strike me as the type to spend the night on a cot at the hospital with me, so you can come in his stead. When I’m exhausted from evicting a tiny human and the baby is like ‘holy shit, there’s a world out here, I’m not sleeping through this’ you can stay up all night walking her around the hospital and trying to get her to sleep.”

  Mia’s eyes widen. “I am so on board.” She looks to the driver’s seat, turning the dress around so it’s facing the front of the car. “Adrian, did you see Rosalie’s dress?

  “I did,” he answers, without enthusiasm. “It’s great.”

  “When you and Elise find out what you’re having, we have to take her shopping, too.”

  “Elise doesn’t like us,” I remind Mia.

  “She will have to like us. We’re going to buy her so many cute little baby clothes, she won’t be able to resist.”

  Wrapping an arm around her and giving her a sideways hug, I tell Adrian, “She’s starting to think like a Morelli. I’m so proud.”

  He just shakes his head at us and doesn’t respond.

  I release Mia and slide my phone back into my purse. She’s grinning goofily at the baby dress, and I worry—not for the first time—about her baby fever. As long as her womb stays empty until I have Rosalie, I think we’ll be fine. She can help with baby duty as much as she wants, so she might feel like she has a baby. And it’s still Mateo’s baby, so I’m sure she’ll be head over heels for her from birth.

  I can manage it if my beloved can keep his goddamn word, but it’s difficult to trust that.

  Now that I’m thinking about their sex life, I remember something else I wanted to cover with her while we were outside the house.

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