by Rose Harper
After doing my business and almost orgasming from the most amazing shower I’ve ever had, I finish getting ready in the only pair of jeans and T-shirt I found in the back of the closet. Making sure I’m presentable one last time, I make my way out of my room in search of the one thing my body’s been howling for since I left the bed—food. I can’t remember the last time I ate something of substance or something that wasn’t poisoned, and my stomach is letting me know by harshly growling every few minutes.
Padding over to the bedroom door, I quietly open it and slip through. If anyone has a problem with me being out in the hallway unsupervised, I couldn’t really care less. I’m not about to spend the next however long in there waiting for someone to come get me. Never done that before in my entire life, and I’m sure as shit not going to start now.
Just as I’m approaching the last bedroom on the left, I see the door left ajar. As I go to push past, I hear what can only be described as a moan. A motherfucking moan. Being the nosy little shit I am, I stop my advancement and sidle up to the wall. Peeking through, my jaw unhinges as I spy what’s just on the other side.
Mateo is completely naked, his ass and back muscles contracted as he forcefully thrusts inside of a woman. A fucking bitch that’s wearing a mask of pure unadulterated euphoria twisting her features. His hand is wrapped around her throat, her nails clawing at his muscular forearm as he attempts to fuck her into submission. The sharp sounds of skin slapping skin over and over are the musical undertone of their conjoined groans and moans of pleasure.
So, he left me to get his rocks off with someone else? I fume to myself as I watch, unable to take my eyes away from the train wreck happening right in front of me. With dead eyes and a blank mind, I can’t help the jealousy that rolls off me in waves. He was just in my bed about to fuck my brains out. What in the ever-loving fuck is he doing in there with her?
When his head falls back on his shoulders, I know I’ve had enough. I can’t stand here and watch this when all I want to do is find a knife and gut both of them, starting with the little wench he’s currently balls deep in.
Stepping backward, movement from my right catches my attention as I finally break eye contact. Dom’s walking toward me with purpose in each step. “What are you doing?”
Not being the one to lie for unimportant reasons, I tell him the truth. “Just watching Mateo fuck some whore. Apparently, she's faking it to make it.” Now, that last part was a lie, but then again, can you blame me?
“Faking it to make it, eh?” he smiles, coming to a stop next to me. “Somehow, I think you’re fibbing.”
“Believe what you want,” I say, side-stepping him before continuing. “Any person that makes those kinds of sounds is definitely faking it.”
“What sounds would that be?”
Splaying my hand across my chest, I sigh dramatically. “Oh, baby! Ah, ah, ah, ooh! You got it, big boy! Make me come!” I yell, throwing in a squeal for good measure before returning to my stoic appearance. “You know, the usual.”
Bursting into a fit of laughter, Dom leans back against the wall. When tears brim his eyes, I can’t stop myself from joining in, even though the action goes against everything I am. Goddammit, I wish I knew what that was. It would be so much easier.
“What’s so fucking funny out here?” Mateo bellows, pushing open the door. When he spots me, his eyes widen as he systematically glances back over his shoulder, closing the door from prying eyes.
“You,” I say, giggling. “Well, no, strike that. Her. She’s so faking that shit.”
“What?” His eyes burn into mine. “You jealous?”
“Me? Jealous?” I bat away his comment. “Never. Why would I be jealous of someone like her?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he says with a secretive smile. “Because she’s getting something you want, and all she had to do was kneel to get it.”
“That’s really sad,” I retort, snuggling in closer to Dom. What the fuck am I doing? Something tells me I wouldn’t normally do this shit. “A real woman would have her man kneeling in front of her.”
Mateo watches the action, the smile falling from his lips. His eyes flick between Dom and me a few times before finally settling on me, the black of his eyes eating the white. “What’s going on here?”
“What? You jealous?” I fire his own words back at him, winking.
Turning toward Dom, I keep my eyes on Mateo as I run my fingers over Dom’s chest. Snaking my hand on the inside of his jacket, I grope my way all over his delicious chest until I can’t take his heat burning me anymore. Grasping his suit jacket, I pull him toward me, arching against him when his chest presses against mine.
“Kiss me, Dom,” I seduce, rubbing myself over him.
“Don’t even think about it,” Mateo blazes. “I will gut you from chin to navel right here and now if your lips touch hers.”
Leaning toward me, Dom whispers in my ear as I keep my eyes on the naked, very well endowed bull ready to charge us at any second. “I don’t know your game here, Kitty, but I refuse to get my dick cut off because you want to poke the bear. I am not going there with you, no matter how much you need that tight little pussy fucked into submission.”
Giggling, I swat his chest. “You are so dirty.”
“You’re going to get me killed,” he hisses, pinching my ass.
Ripping my eyes away from, Mateo, I widen them in fake excitement. “Ooh, I wouldn’t mind doing that. Let’s go.”
I make to pull him down the hall, only Mateo is out the door, slamming him into the wall within the next breath. His eyes are full of rage as he hisses out a warning. Fuck, his reaction is absolutely intoxicating. “If I see you go anywhere near her, I will kill you. You work for me. Your loyalties are to me, not her. You even get hard thinking of her, and I’ll make you eat your dick for breakfast.”
Is he fucking serious right now? That’s complete and total bullshit.
“Pot, it’s kettle calling, and the bitch wants her panties back,” I seethe. “You can touch other women, but no one can touch me?”
“You belong to me. You are mine to fuck, break, and do any goddamn thing I want with. No one will be touching you,” he thunders, grabbing Dom by his shirt and slamming him back into the wall, causing broken drywall to fall around them.
Rolling my eyes, I glare at the both of them. “I’m not your fucking property. You can’t—and will never—own me. If you’re allowed other women, then I demand a man that will at least leave me satisfied.”
“Try it and see what I do to you.”
Shoving away from Dom, he turns to face me. His corded muscles bunch and bulge, trying to keep whatever sliver of control he has left in check. Silence passes between us as we shoot daggers into each other’s eyes, neither one of us threatening to disrupt the quiet.
Call it a test of determination if you will, but I refuse to back down. If he can fuck and lick his way through different women while he keeps me idly on the side, then I demand the same with the men he surrounds himself with. I have no idea where this is coming from, but I like it. I like the thought of standing up for myself when it’s clear I couldn’t before.
Besides, he’s the bastard that left me to get his jollies off with that bitch, and I won’t feel sorry for fucking half the men that walk through his house. It’s tit for tat, motherfuckers. And I’ll be the first to tell you, I’m ready to play.
Rolling my eyes, I step past them. Turning around, I continue walking backwards, tossing my hands in the air. “You lost out on your chance, asshole. As for you,” I say, smirking at Mateo. “There’s only one problem with your argument.”
“And that is?”
“It only works on someone who’s scared. And if you can’t tell, I’m unfamiliar with that emotion.” But only when you are around, I silently say to myself.
8
CARINA
P icking up my glass and empty plate, I carefully place it in the sink. When I turn back around, I fight the urge to roll my eyes
when I see a dark-haired girl walk into the dining room wearing nothing more than scraps of lace to cover her body. She’s beautiful in her own right, but since I know this is the woman I caught Mateo with, for all I care she can burn in the deepest pits of hell. I hate her.
She stops her advance, giving me a once over, her top lip curling back to show her straight white teeth. “Ugh”
She steps away from one of who I can only guess is Mateo’s men, who snubs me the entire time. Suits me just fucking fine. I’d rather he didn’t talk to me, let alone give me a reason to bash his nose all over his face. He and plastic Barbie can have matching injuries for all I care. Just the sight of her infuriates me, and I know why. She’s the goddamn reason Mateo stopped with me, so he could start up with her. She threw her bitch fit, causing him to leave me stranded with an aching pussy.
“Sweetie, there’s a homeless center just down that way if you’re looking for a place to crash. We don’t take in street urchins,” she snarks, pointing out the bay windows as she moves toward the fridge and pulls out a bottle of champagne.
I look at the man, seeing his hands full of a chicken salad sandwich, watching me closely. “Carina?” he finally warns, earning a cackling laugh from Camille.
“Carina?” The woman snorts a laugh. “What the hell kind of name is that?”
“Shut the fuck up, Camille,” the new man snaps, earning a scowl from her in return.
“Oh, come off it, Vinny,” he scolds. “The bitch is only here for one reason, and that’s to be Mateo’s little whore.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” I argue. “I’m no one’s whore, least of all his.”
She ceases movement for a second before placing the bottle back into the fridge. Picking up her fresh glass, she turns to look at me. “If you think you’re going to get Mateo to take a second look, you’re wrong. The only thing that drives him wild is a woman that can give as good as she gets.”
She clearly has no idea who I am and what I’m capable of. My eyes widen as a slip of a memory fires its way through my mind. Me, holding a knife dripping with blood. Me, cackling the evilest of laughs as a woman looks at me with horror shining through her eyes.
Where did that come from? I really shouldn’t watch Netflix anymore. With everything going on, it’s trying to force itself into my memory as if it’s a part of me.
“I’m sorry. I’m having trouble hearing you over the loud screeching of a dying dog. If that’s giving as good as you get, Mateo got screwed on that deal—no pun intended.” I clamp my mouth closed after replying. The man at the table starts cough-laughing, which causes my smirk to turn on full force. At least he thinks I’m funny, even though she’s looking at me like she could kill me with her bare hands right now. Feeling’s mutual, sweetie, I think, blowing mental kisses her way.
Vinny begins to slowly make his way toward me. Camille pauses, her glass an inch away from her mouth. “What did you just say?”
“Camille. Do. Not. Go. There.”
She rakes her fire engine red nails across the counter just as another person walks into the kitchen, the dining door slamming closed behind them. I know who it is before I even allow myself to look in their direction. The air changes when he’s around, growing heavier, tenser.
“This bitch started it.” What, is she five? Does she want to push me down on the playground and steal my lunch money, too?
Looking up, my eyes lock onto Mateo’s. Raising my eyebrows, I shoot him a knowing smirk. “Well, then,” I say sluggishly, acting as though her actions don’t faze me, and honestly, they don’t. Everyone knows people like Camille thrive off altercations such as this, and I’m not about to be a catalyst so she can jilly off to it later. Fuck no to that. “Guess I’m full, so I’ll be in my room.” I go to walk around Mateo, but he doesn’t move, not even so much as a muscle.
“Move,” I say softly, my eyes remaining on the ground because truthfully, something tells me that if I were one hundred percent right now, the man wouldn’t frighten the crap out of me. But since I’m not … I don’t want to admit it, but that altercation in the hallway shook me, even though I refuse to show it. “Please.”
He doesn’t move. Not even an inch.
“Mateo.” I finally look up, his eyes searching mine. “I’m going to need you to move so I can leave.”
It’s then I actually take in what he’s wearing, and if I wasn’t sweating bullets before, I am now. He’s wearing a custom fit three-piece tuxedo, black on black with a red handkerchief in his front pocket. His aroma is more bulbous now with the underlining hint of soap. His ash jet black hair is gelled in a faux hawk on the top, and his chin is lined with a tiny layer of scruff.
‘Camille,” his voice booms, causing me to startle. “You have five minutes to get ready, or I’ll leave your ass here.”
A shrill squeal echoes through the dining room as her heels click against the tile floor at hurried speeds. “Make it ten, and I’ll give you something good, baby.”
“Just go,” he seethes.
As soon as the door shuts from her rather flamboyant exit, Mateo trains his hateful eyes on me. “One,” he fumes, stalking toward my retreating body. “I’ll tell you where you can and cannot go.”
“Now just wait a min—”
He cuts me off. “Two—the next time you think you can get ballsy with me will be your fucking last. I don’t take lip from anyone, least of all from someone like you.”
“I have something I need to say.”
Narrowing his eyes, obviously annoyed, he jerks his chin to give me permission. At the rate his scalding look is going, I better get this over with fast. He’s staring at me like I’m the most exasperating woman on the plant that he’s ever seen, and he’s not going to put up with my mouthing his every word for much longer. My shit needs to sort itself fast because I hate feeling so inept being around him.
“You have two minutes. Better make it count.”
“Why am I here?” I start off easy.
“Because you belong to me.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It’s a need to know basis, and I’ll let you know when that changes.”
“Need to know?”
His eyes harden as he looks at me. “Yes. For me to know, and for you to shut the hell up and do as I say.” Glancing down at his watch, he side-eyes me. “Tick-tock.” Can I punch his face now?
I drop it. For now. Because we all need to pick and choose which battles we face and when we face them; that much I learned in the presence of my parents. “Fine. Next question. Why do you need me when you have Camille?”
He laughs. “So, you are jealous.”
“Excuse me? No. I just want to know why.”
He wraps his hand around my wrist, pulling me toward him. “You’re trying to play me, pet. You and I both know you’re eaten up by it.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “I’m not jealous, Mateo. Far from it. In order for me to be jealous, I must hope that we’re going somewhere and she’s in the way. I don’t and never will. Fuck her ten ways from Sunday if you like, it’s all going to end the same way. With me not caring or hoping for anything.” Raising my eyes to his, I make myself as vulnerable as possible. To show him and everyone else I give no fucks and there are no fucks going to be given.
“Why are you lying?” he asks, his eyes softening.
Sighing, I reply, “You just don’t want to accept the truth.”
“And the truth is?”
Standing silently, I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. Either today, tomorrow or a year from now, he will finally come to terms with it. He thinks he can change everything, make it all go according to his will. But I’m here to tell you that doesn’t happen in real life. Real life is messy; ugly. It causes you to do the things you normally wouldn’t do or forget stuff you can’t bear to remember.
“There’s no hope for me.”
He watches my face closely, his hands dropping from my wrist. “The one thing my mother alwa
ys told me was ‘never give up hope.’ Yet you toss it away as if it’s not a gift from God.”
I tilt my head as my heart lurches inside my chest. “If there were a God, then why did he subject me to this? Why did he take everything away from me?” What I really want to ask is why God hated me so much to take everything I know away.
“He works in mysterious ways, pet.”
“He’s not real,” I argue.
“Oh, he’s very real. That I can assure you.”
“Prove it.”
The muscles tic in his jaw from anger, yet when he replies, he’s softly spoken. “There’s nothing I need to prove. There’s sunshine and snow melting all around you. You hear birds chirping, seeing them fly high in the sky. You feel the wind caress your face, wishing deep down it was your lover’s fingers trailing your cheeks in admiration. Dawn leads to dusk, and dusk to dawn. That’s all the proof you need.”
Sighing, I step around him. Surprisingly, he lets me, not uttering another word. When I get to the dining room door, I place my hand on it, wishing he was right, then turn to look at him over my shoulder, shrugging. “The only thing that proves is there’s a devil.”
“Why do you say that?” he queries, turning toward me.
“Because it’s true.” I smile sadly.
His phone ringing gives me the opportunity I need, and I burst through the door, taking the steps two at a time. Damn, I hate myself for slipping back there. Hate it more than I hate all of this. I don’t need to give Mateo any more pieces he can use against me because it’s clear he’s got enough of them already. Just the way his gaze spears through me shows he knows more about my situation than he’s letting on. And the way he knew to cut me just so I would feel something other than this shit I have just further proves my point.
Mateo may say there’s a god, but I’m almost positive I’m living with the devil himself. Because only the devil would taunt me the way he just did.