Coming Home (Morelli Family, #6)

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Coming Home (Morelli Family, #6) Page 15

by Sam Mariano


  I feel myself melting like putty in his hands.

  Dipping closer so he can talk low in my ear, he says, “You just want to use me.”

  Breathing is so hard. Oh, god, he’s so close. I want to touch his shoulders. I’m hardly aware of the thought and then I am touching them, running my hands over them. He has good shoulders, just like Mateo. I ache with how much I want Mateo right now, but this man is somehow evoking that yearning.

  He doesn’t look surprised. I am. I didn’t mean to actually touch him. I’m dimly aware that it’s super inappropriate, but god, I’m so drunk.

  “Spread your legs, little one.”

  My legs drift open and he moves between them. A gasp slips out of me as he presses himself between my legs. I think I should object, but I don’t open my mouth. I don’t say anything. I’m a little overwhelmed and a lot drunk. My mind assures me everything is fine. Rafe is nice enough. He said he might help me, and he reminds me of Mateo. He’s my only possible ally in this godforsaken place.

  He grabs me around the waist with one hand, pulling me away from the wall. I lock my legs around him to keep myself up. I don’t need to, he’s doing that with his arm around my waist, but my legs just do it naturally, pulling him closer.

  Holding me against his body, he holds my gaze and pushes his other hand down between our bodies and pushes two fingers inside me.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, curling into his shoulder.

  His deep voice is calm and steady. “You’re unhappy here, aren’t you?”

  “So unhappy.”

  “Tell me why.”

  His fingers plunge inside of me and pleasure swirls through me. I don’t want him to talk, I just want to close my eyes and feel him. “I’m so afraid,” I murmur against his shoulder.

  “Of me?”

  “No.” His fingers finish exploring deep and now he pays attention to my clit, rubbing and toying with me, sending spikes of pleasure through my body.

  “Of Vince?”

  “Of everything,” I murmur. “I’m afraid I’ll never get back home. I’m afraid… I’m afraid of everything. I just want to go home. I want to curl up in my bed with Mateo. And I’m afraid if I do get there, he won’t want me anymore. I’m so afraid it’ll be like before.” Just thinking about Mateo not wanting me brings the sting of tears behind my eyes.

  “Mateo didn’t want you before?” he asks, almost patiently as he continues to finger me.

  “No, Vince didn’t. When Mateo took me and—” I gasp, throwing my head back. “And Vince couldn’t forgive me. I’m afraid now Mateo won’t forgive me.”

  “Forgive you for what?”

  I want to answer him. He’s asking me a question and I don’t want to displease him, but I can’t. His fingers have obliterated the part of my brain that makes words. I’m all sensation right now, and as he walks me back against the wall of the cave, still rubbing my clit, still pleasuring me, I can’t think. If he took his finger out of me and shoved his cock inside me, I’d be completely helpless to object.

  “Rafe.” I gasp, my hand clutching at his muscular back.

  “Come for me, little one.”

  And I do. I fucking do. I come hard, I cry out, and I think more to shut me up than anything, he covers my mouth with his, but I take it as a kiss, and I cling to him, kissing him back.

  I’m weak when I come down from the orgasm.

  Horror falls over me like an inescapable blanket, stealing the air from my lungs. Suddenly my brain turns back on, the effects of the alcohol dimming as the horrifying realization settles on me that I just let someone who isn’t Mateo touch me.

  “Oh, fuck,” I murmur, hiding my face in my hands. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, reaching up and grabbing my margarita glass, then handing it back to me.

  “Oh, my god. Oh, my god.”

  “Relax,” he says, like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t matter.

  I want to cry.

  This is so much worse than what Vince has been doing to me—I wanted this. He touched me, my body responded, and I wanted him to touch me.

  “I’m… I’m… Oh, my god.”

  “You’re drunk,” Rafe states, still cool and collected, since he didn’t just cheat on Mateo Morelli. “Drunk girls don’t make good decisions. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “Fuck,” I say, more savagely, swimming away from him toward the mouth of the cave.

  “Wait,” he says, lurching forward and grabbing my arm, tugging me back.

  I feel like I’m going to have an anxiety attack. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from him and go to my bedroom and curl up and die in shame.

  “I have to go,” I tell him, tying to pull my arm away.

  “This stays between us.”

  “Trust me, I never want anyone to know that just happened,” I say, jerking my arm away from him and swimming to the ladder so I can climb out.

  Vince glances my way as I hurry across the walk. I don’t pause; I head straight inside so I can go upstairs.

  I have to get the fuck out of here. I have to get back to Mateo. I have to tell Mateo what I just allowed to happen. I have to repent and beg for him to forgive me.

  I don’t make it to my bedroom. The alcohol is still hitting me harder than I realize and I sink down the wall in the hallway, pulling my knees up to my chest. I bury my face in my hands and sob. Guilt like I’ve never felt before tears at me. It didn’t even feel like this when I hurt Vince, not to my recollection. The idea that I just betrayed the man I love more than anything makes me want to die.

  “What is wrong with me?” I cry out, to no one. To the ugly fucking marble floor. To the house I hate more than anything. I want to burn this house down. I wonder how easy it is to burn a house down. I hate this house and everyone in it—I want to watch it all burn.

  I want matches.

  There are matches by the grill.

  I push myself up on wobbly legs and hold onto the rail on the staircase so I don’t fall down the steps. I make it to the bottom step, and though my gait is questionable, there’s a little bounce in my step now. My brain is so foggy, but suddenly I am positive matches will make everything better. If I get matches I can burn this house down and Mateo will forgive me.

  “What are you doing?”

  Rafe.

  I look up at him towel drying his hair as he watches me search the grill.

  “I need matches,” I tell him.

  “Why do you need matches?”

  I found them! “To start a fire.”

  “Okay,” he says, again patiently. He takes the matches out of my hand.

  “Hey! Give those back.”

  “I’m not giving them back. Why do you need to start a fire?”

  “I’m going to burn this fucking house down.”

  Nodding like that’s what he figured, he says, “No matches for you, little one.”

  “Stop calling me that.” I intend for it to come out strong and angry, but it comes out small, like a plea. “Stop it. Stop bossing me around. Stop reminding me of Mateo. I can’t take it. I want to be home with him more than anything and Vince won’t let me leave, and I hate this. He never should’ve brought me here. I want to be back in my bed; I want my life back.”

  I don’t realize I’m crying until he wraps an arm around me and pulls me against his still-damp body. I don’t even think, I just react, wrapping my arms around him and sobbing into his chest.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Rafe glances back, releasing his hold on me as Vince storms over, glaring at both of us.

  I’m the one Vince is glaring at hardest though. This is all his fault. I hate him. He brought me to this godawful place and put me in this horrible situation, so when Rafe lets go, I step forward and shove Vince as hard as I can. He isn’t braced for it and stumbles back a step, surprise flashing across his handsome features.

  “I hate you,” I tell him, my voice gravelly. “You’ve
taken everything from me, and I wish he would have really killed you that night. I’d rather live with that guilt all my life and have him than be stuck here with you.”

  I don’t wait around to see how Vince reacts; I go to storm upstairs. I’m unprepared when he grabs me and pushes me against the outside wall, glaring at me. “Stop being so fucking mean, Mia.”

  “Never,” I say, shoving his chest. “Never. I’m going to be your worst fucking nightmare. I’ll never accept this. I’ll never adapt. I’m going to punish you for everything you’ve cost me. I’m going to make your life hell. I’m going to ruin every last drop of good within you until we both go down in flames. You want to keep me here against my will, you want to take me away from the man I love, you want to ruin my life? I will drag your ass down with me. I hope you’ve fully embraced your blood, Vince, because I’m going to make you loathe me. You’re probably right that I’ll die by the hands of a fucking Morelli, but it won’t be Mateo.”

  He looks like he wants to kill me right now. He slams his hand against the wall beside me, but I can feel the violence coursing through him. I can feel his rage. I’m too drunk and reckless to try to disarm him, so I glare at him instead, daring him without words to put a fucking hand on me.

  “Okay, why don’t you take a step back, little cousin.”

  I glance over at Rafe. I didn’t even notice him approach, but he’s watching this horrible scene unfold, apprehension painted all over his handsome face.

  “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business, Rafe,” Vince returns, glaring at him. “And keep your fucking hands off her, too. I don’t know what the hell that was, but I didn’t like it.”

  “Well, I don’t like this,” Rafe states, unmoved by Vince’s fury. “You’re both incredibly drunk and you need to calm the fuck down.”

  Since Vince is both drunk and enraged, he dips forward, getting in Rafe’s face. “Why do you fucking care?”

  Rafe smiles, but it’s not a nice smile. “Go ahead, Vince; piss me off and see what happens.”

  Vince snarls but spins around, like he’s so full of anger he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I fucking hate this family,” he mutters. Then, suddenly realizing he has a rage receptacle, he spins back around and grabs my wrist, hauling me toward the staircase.

  “I don’t want to go with you,” I mutter, trying to pull free from Vince’s grasp.

  “Remember how I told you I didn’t give a fuck? I give even fewer fucks now,” he informs me, hauling me toward the stairs. “All I fucking wanted was something nice with you, and you can’t let us have it.”

  “No, you want to take me upstairs and force yourself on me again,” I say, pulling back so hard I’d fall on my ass if he let go. “You’re not Mateo, Vince; you can’t fucking pull it off.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Mia.”

  Rafe’s hand is on my shoulder for some reason. As soon as I turn to look, his hand’s moving to my arm, and then he’s at my wrist, prying Vince’s fingers off me.

  “Nope. This is over. This is done,” Rafe states.

  “This is not your fucking—”

  Rafe pulls back and punches Vince right in the jaw. I jump back a step, startled, then Rafe takes me by the forearm and yanks me out of the way.

  “I don’t want to hit you again, Vince,” he says, holding up a hand to preemptively keep him back. “But I will.”

  Vince rubs his jaw, shaking his head. “When is this ever going to end, Mia? When are you ever going to stop being like this?”

  “I’m not,” I state. “I’m never going to stop. We don’t work. Nothing can make us work. I tried telling you that.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Rafe states.

  “No one asked you,” Vince mutters.

  “Maybe not, but I’m involved now, and this is fucking ridiculous. This girl doesn’t love you, Vince. She’s in love with someone else. Just leave her alone.”

  Vince looks so sad now. His rage has dissipated, and he looks so sad, and even though I wanted to set him on fire two minutes ago, my impulse to make him feel better kicks in.

  Because I’m drunk, I go over and give him a sideways hug. “I’m sorry I can’t love you, Vince. I really am. I know how much you want me to, and I’m sorry I can’t, but I can’t.”

  “I wish I’d never met you.”

  I nod, even as tears spring to my eyes. I don’t know why I’m crying, but this feels like a last fight, and I just told him I wish he was dead. I don’t wish he was dead. We just can’t be around each other, because we turn each other psycho.

  “I’m so sorry, Vince.”

  “I just wanted…”

  He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to. I nod. “I know. I’m sorry I can’t give it to you.”

  “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

  My face crumbles at that, and I hold him tighter. His arm moves around me and we’re hugging now, tears leaking out of my eyes and down my face. I feel so sad for him, but there’s nothing I can do. Nothing I’m willing to do. I wish I could split myself in half and leave one of me here with him, to love him, to hold him at night, to give him everything he wants from me. But I’m completely incapable of giving it to him myself.

  I don’t want him to feel like this anymore, either.

  I wish we could be a part of each other’s lives, but every time we are, it all goes to hell. I don’t know what it is about us that makes us so incapable of coexisting, of peace, of love, but I wish he could feel the way I feel. I wish he could stop yearning for me, the way I stopped yearning for him so long ago.

  “We have to stop torturing each other,” I finally whisper. “We have to stop. I want you to be happy, and I make you miserable.

  “I don’t understand why you can’t love me.”

  “I do love you,” I tell him. “Just not the way you want me to. Maybe I did once, but I never will again. Please stop making me break your heart. I hate myself for doing it. I can’t do this anymore.”

  He runs a hand down my arm until he gets to my hand. His larger hand curls around mine and he gives it a squeeze. “I just wanted you to be happy with me.”

  “I know,” I say, softly. I don’t have to tell him I’m not. That’s glaringly apparent. It would just be cruel at this point.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mia

  I’m completely drained.

  Thank God, Rafe took charge after Vince and I melted down. Vince wanted me to stay with him, and I was so weak with guilt that I was ready to, but Rafe put his foot down and said that wasn’t a good idea for anyone. He took Vince aside for a few minutes and talked with him calmly, then came back to the lounge chair where he’d left me and hauled me back to his house.

  I guess it’s his bed I wake up in the next day. I’m still in the bikini I wore last night, but there’s a blanket draped over me. I feel empty. Last night was so horrible in every single way, and I am just depleted. I have nothing left to give anyone, and there’s nothing to fill me back up.

  Eventually, Rafe comes in. He brings me coffee and I sit up, bunching the blankets up around me. I eye him seated on the edge of the bed as I make myself drink it.

  “You look like hell,” he informs me.

  Weirdly, crying all night long while drunk and vaguely traumatized doesn’t result in looking my best. I don’t bother to respond. I just want to curl up in bed and never come out.

  “Do you remember much of last night?”

  Nodding like my head weighs a million pounds, I say heavily, “Every horrible moment.”

  He nods now, glancing down at his hands folded in his lap, then he says, “Mateo’s fucked around plenty in his time, Mia.”

  “I don’t care,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t care what he’s done. I love him, and I…”

  “You were drunk,” he states. “And you were sad. And you were telling me how much I reminded you of him. I took advantage.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” I inform him.

&nb
sp; “Well, I have something that might. You still want to go home?”

  I stare at him, somewhat skeptical. “Of course.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  My head can’t catch up with his words. My stomach is a mess and I feel a little like throwing up. My head is foggy. My heart is heavy. His words are what I want more than anything, but I’m too afraid to trust them. “You’ll take me home? To Mateo?”

  He nods once. “And last night? It never happened. Only you and I know it did, and as long as he never knows it doesn’t matter. Remember, he fucked my girlfriend once. I owed him that.”

  I don’t care about his girlfriend. My heart is hammering in my chest now, and I’m afraid to believe him. “You promise? This isn’t a trick?”

  Rafe shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not terribly tricky. Just bossy. Now, stop being sad. I’m going to call your fiancé.” Holding a finger up, as if just remembering something, he reaches into his pocket and draws something out.

  My heart fills up when I see my ring. I grab it like a lifeline, sliding it back on my finger and staring at it. It makes me want to cry again, but I don’t.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Vince gave it to me. I think it’s best you don’t say goodbye to him, though. I think it’s best you two stay far, far away from each other.”

  I nod. “If Mateo doesn’t kill me, I’m never going to be allowed around anyone ever again. He’s going to lock me in the bedroom and never let me out except to eat.”

  “Sounds like a good time.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  He cracks a smile. “I bet you’re a lot of fun in your natural environment. I’ve enjoyed bossing you around. You’re a sub, aren’t you?”

  “Huh?”

  He shakes his head. “Never mind. Want me to call him now, or do you need—”

  “Call him now,” I say, excitement bubbling up inside me. “Oh, please. Call him now.”

  Rafe draws his cell out of his pocket and scrolls through his contacts. I’m so nervous I feel a little shaky as I wait. Finally he says, “Hey, cousin.”

 

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