by Sam Mariano
After thinking on it for a moment, he finally says, "Maybe you can't."
That's not what I wanted to hear, but I don't know what I wanted to hear instead, either. It isn't in my nature to accept defeat, so I shake my head, rejecting it. "I don't want to believe that. Aren't you supposed to have some wise life advice to offer me?"
"I'm not that old," he says, rolling his eyes.
"But you've been in similar situations. I mean, not similar, but..."
He nods, taking my meaning. "I have, but every relationship is different. Every betrayal is different. It may not be in Vince's make-up to let it go. He may not be able to."
"He's just stubborn," I complain.
"So are you," Mateo points out.
"Exactly," I say, my eyes widening. "He refuses to forgive and I refuse to admit defeat, so we just keep going through this cycle, lying to each other, pretending everything is fine when we both know it isn't. I can't talk to him about it. He's too hostile."
"I thought you guys were doing okay," he says.
"We were." Then Meg started luring me back to the damn mansion. "But it wasn't real. I thought it was, but at the first test... he smothers me with his possessiveness and his need for reassurance that I'm not relapsing, and I get so irritated with him, and then I realize how unfair I'm being, but then we're back to my part. I can't commit to letting go for some reason, so I just fake it, and he's already suspicious, so he sees through me, he knows, and it's just... it's a mess. And I don't have a single idea left. I don't know what to do anymore."
Taking another sip of his drink, he says, "Sounds like there's only one thing you haven't tried."
My stomach literally aches, knowing he's about to tell me to let go of him. I want to turn and leave, before he can utter the words. I want to rewind and go back to ignoring everything. I don't want his permission to do that. I want to keep some excuse, some vague feeling of not being entirely responsible.
I think maybe he can see the fear on my face, and he must understand why it's there. He must understand I don't want to hear it, because he pauses, watching me, then his expression shifts. Lightens. His eyes go from those of a willing listener to those of a playmate, and he says, "You and Meg are just going to have to be sister wives."
It's maybe the last thing I expected him to say, and it startles a laugh out of me. I wanted to cry ten seconds ago, flee five seconds ago, and now I'm laughing. My troubles drift, not gone, just suddenly less important.
My heart twists though. Amidst the relief, amidst the levity, amidst the moment I can just enjoy, there's the dark reminder of my feelings. The shame associated on so many levels of admitting, even if only to myself, that I love this man. I love this terrible, awful, wonderful man.
And I love his fiancée.
And I love his cousin. Even feeling the way I feel tonight, I still love Vince.
And therein lies the problem. We circle right back around to it. Mateo is the very center of my problems, and like a cancer I'm somehow emotionally invested in, I refuse to cut him out.
Maybe Vince is right. Maybe the only way we could ever have any kind of peace would be with Mateo gone.
But that's a price I won't pay. I can't pay. Because it's somehow painful to imagine his complete absence not only from my life, but from the world. I know it isn't logical, I know it isn't even accurate on a moral level. He causes more bad in the world than good, in everyone's world.
But we still want him here.
As much as I love Vince, my greater loyalty somehow lies with Mateo. I clearly took his words to heart, maybe more than he intended, but now they're there and they don't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon.
But now, even though it wasn't his intention, Vince is disturbing the peace here, too. Because if Mateo ever finds out what Vince did, if he ever finds out I knew, even after the fact, and didn't tell him? He'll never be able to trust me again. I’ll be just another person who betrayed him. I don't want that possibility on the table, but there's a high price for telling him, and I'm not willing to pay that one, either.
I won't give up Mateo for Vince, and I won't sacrifice Vince for Mateo.
Maybe this is what hell is like.
Maybe I am in hell. Maybe Mateo shot me all those months ago in his study, and I wasn't good enough in life to make it to Heaven.
I smile at my own thoughts, reaching forward and grabbing the awful alcohol from the edge of his desk. I need a drink. I see why Mateo drinks so much. I don't know how he still has a working liver, but if I had to live inside him 24/7, I would need alcohol, too. Just a hit of him every now and then is enough to somehow demolish my world every time I think it's stable.
"Okay. Well, thank you for listening. I'm going to go back to your bedroom and play with your wife."
"Oh, my god," he says, groaning. "I've been so good tonight, and that's how you thank me."
I grin, putting the glass down and giving him a little wink. "You know you deserve it."
He shakes his head. "Heartless. You women are all heartless."
Deleted Scene Two
A/N: Most of the deleted scenes are only deleted because they’re from the wrong perspective, but they still further the story.
This one is just smutty fun.
If you don’t WANT to read it, you won’t be missing anything. (Well, except some steamy sex scenes taking up space in your short-term memory!)
This is smutty smut. Sexy, adventurous goodness.
Enjoy!
(If you start to get ragey, skip to the scene break.)
Sexy Scrabble Parties
Mia
Mateo’s arm is still secured around me, and Meg still doesn’t care at all. She should, but she’s crazy, so she doesn’t.
Adrian is watching warily, far less comfortable with it.
“What’s wrong, Adrian?” Mateo asks, amusement evident in his tone. Adrian gives him a clear look of censure, but Mateo takes it in stride, like he always does. “You don’t like my hands on Mia?” Purposely sliding his hand down my arm, he lets it fall to my waist and tugs me even closer to his hard body.
I take a shaky breath, forcing a smile.
Then Adrian replies lowly, “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.”
“Why?” His hand moves on from my waist, skimming the bare inside of my thigh, exposed by my sleep shorts. Adrian’s eyes are glued to the movement, then they jump back to Mateo’s, almost with a hint of warning.
“Quit fucking with me, Mateo,” Adrian says.
“Would you rather fuck with her?” he asks, easily.
Oh shit.
“Mia’s a good girl,” Mateo continues, leaning in to drop a kiss on the exposed ball of my shoulder, his eyes never leaving Adrian’s. “She’ll do what I say. Won’t you, Mia?”
I do not know what the fuck is going on right now. I can scarcely breathe, but my body is already on fire and I nod my head.
His tone low and even, in control, he continues, “What would you do if I told you to suck Adrian’s cock, Mia?”
Holy shit. A breath whooshes out of me and I labor to draw another. “I’d suck Adrian’s cock.”
“Jesus Christ,” Adrian mutters, doing one of his little paces away from us.
But he turns back.
My heart kicks up a beat, because if this is pissing him off, if he doesn’t want to play Mateo’s game, why doesn’t he leave?
Mateo continues, his hand skating down my side. “And if I told you to fuck him?”
“Then I’d fuck Adrian,” I say, noticeably breathless.
I do like unsafe men, and Adrian is indisputably dangerous. He looks it now, fire in his eyes—this is pissing him off and turning him on at the same time.
Mateo’s hands leave me, and I feel the absence immediately. “Go fuck Adrian, Mia.”
I’ll be honest, I was pretty sure this was just a test, but nobody in the room objects for long enough that I get on my knees and crawl forward, away from Mateo and toward Adrian. He’s already off th
e bed, not like us, but my heart races as I move nearer to him and he doesn’t move away.
Adrian’s eyes rake over my body, still clothed. He doesn’t move.
I stop on my knees, at the edge of the bed. I reach for the bottom of my tank top and tug it off, tossing it on the floor. Since I was prepared to sleep, I’m wearing nothing underneath, and his eyes dart to my tits, hungry—pissed off about it, but hungry.
I climb off the bed and approach him. He doesn’t move. I take that as permission, and I reach my hands out, bracing one on each of his strong, sexy shoulders. I don’t know if he’s going to make me do all the work, or there’s a storm brewing and he’s about to unleash it on me. God, I hope it’s that.
Holding his gaze, I let my hands drift down his chest. My unsteady fingers catch a button, feeding it through the hole as a question flickers through my eyes.
“You can touch me, if you want,” I tell him softly.
A labored breath rushes out of him as he laughs a little. I don’t think he’s really amused, but now he’s backing me up toward the bed. I stop when my legs brush the surface, and he’s towering over me, still sort of glaring, but then his palms cover my tits and a painfully aroused moan slips out of me.
“You want me to fuck you, Mia?” he asks, lowly, almost like it annoys him. Leave it to Adrian to be annoyed with my desires.
Actually, I guess that’s the norm for him.
His rough thumbs circle my nipples, already hard. Then they brush across the pebbled little nubs, and everything between my legs screams, “We’re ready!”
I nod, because words are too hard right now. Too scary.
But I like scary.
Adrian’s hand drops to the button of his pants and he unbuttons and unzips.
Oh, fuck, this is actually going to happen. My heart pounds hard in my chest. I steal a glance at Mateo, suddenly unsure. He told me to do it, but will he be mad if I do?
But he doesn’t look mad. He looks interested.
He’s such a voyeur.
Biting back a smile, I turn my attention back to Adrian, my fingers working to help him unbutton his shirt.
“Take the shorts off,” he commands.
Oh, right. I’m only half naked.
Shoving down my sleep shorts, I step out of them and lower myself to the bed, scooting back. I’m not sure where or how he wants me, so I don’t scoot too far back.
Only he doesn’t join me on the bed.
“On your knees,” he says, nodding to the floor.
I get off the bed and drop to my knees in front of him instead. His pants are still on but his cock is free, so I reach out and wrap my hand around him. His eyes drift shut for a moment, a little murmur of approval. I lick my lips, tearing my gaze from him to look at his cock as I touch him. Leaning in, I tentatively dart my tongue out, dragging it along his length.
“Oh, fuck, Mia,” he murmurs.
Encouraged, I close my lips around his tip, gently sucking on his head. I want to make him feel good. I let my tongue trace the shape of him, play with him, then I take him deeper. I pick up the pace. I’m in no rush, but I know he needs the friction. His big, strong hands are suddenly in my hair, fisting, pulling. I suck him even harder.
“Stop,” he says, yanking me back by my hair.
I gasp a little, looking up at him. The storm’s still there in his eyes, and oh, how I want that storm.
“On the bed,” he commands.
I push up off the floor and climb on the bed. This time he crawls on it with me, watching me. He looks so goddamn scary as he climbs toward me, his shirt hanging open, his cock out and ready. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
His gaze leaves my eyes, raking over my body once more, then he spreads my legs, and with a thrust of his powerful hips, buries himself inside me.
“Oh, God,” I say on a gasp, reaching a hand above my head, reaching for something to ground me. But there’s nothing, only Adrian.
Only Adrian. As he pulls his cock out and slams it back inside of me, only seems the least fitting word I could possibly use. There’s nothing only about this—he’s filling me up, not just physically, but my senses are about at capacity, too. Watching this brutal, dangerous man fuck me is among the sexiest things I’ve encountered.
“Oh, God, Adrian.” My eyes roll back and I clutch the bed sheets with one hand, reaching for him with the other.
He swats my hand away, then reconsiders, grabbing my hand and positioning it on my own breast. “Touch yourself.”
So I do. As my body lurches with the force of his cock furiously pounding between my legs, I play with my own breasts, brushing my own thumbs across my nipples, staring into Adrian’s stormy eyes all the while. As if it pisses him off, he thrusts harder to punish me, but the joke’s on him, because I like that.
He pulls out now, and I don’t like that. Before I can get worried, though, his hands brush my legs, encouraging me as they approach my hips.
“Turn over,” he says.
So I turn over, push up to my hands and knees. I’m facing no one in this position—Mateo’s wing chair.
“No,” Adrian says, touching my hip to guide me. “Face him.”
I glance back at him, alarmed, but he merely raises an eyebrow in challenge.
Swallowing, I rotate until I’m facing Mateo. This is going to be a whole new thing, watching him while his best friend fucks me. I’m not sure I’m ready for it, but Adrian apparently is, because he climbs up behind me, hands on my hips, and before there’s time for second thoughts, he pushes his hard cock back inside me.
“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, falling forward on the bed.
One of Adrian’s hands leaves my hip to grab my hair, forcing my head up, making me watch Mateo. This is wildest thing I’ve ever done, hands down, but as I hold Mateo’s molten gaze, as Adrian’s cock batters the walls of my pussy, shameful pleasure swirls inside me. Holy shit.
“Adrian.” I moan. I pant. I want him to fuck me harder, Faster. I want more, more, more.
“Goddammit, Mia,” he mutters, as if annoyed, but he fucks me harder. Furiously. My gaze jumps from Mateo to Meg, and god, she’s so turned on, too.
I know Adrian wants me to watch Mateo, but I can’t focus on anything anymore. My orgasm is so close I feel like I may explode, and I clench my hands in the bed sheets, pushing my hips back to meet his every thrust.
Pleasure erupts like a volcano inside me, pouring hotly through every inch of my body. I cry out, loudly, arching my back even as he keeps fucking me. “Oh, god, Adrian.”
He grabs my hair again. “Keep fucking taking it.”
Somehow still riding the wave of pleasure, I nod furiously, my greedy pussy taking every inch of his cock as many times as he’ll give it to me.
Until he comes, groaning, and finally the fight goes out of him. Finally he collapses on the bed next to me, both of us limp.
A minute passes—a relaxing, incredible moment—before Mateo says, “Come here, Mia.”
My arms are still a little shaky as I push up to look at him, momentarily uncertain, now that the sex is over.
His brown eyes are heated though. I can still feel Adrian between my legs as I approach Mateo, and for a split second, I wish they could’ve both had me. Being fucked at the same time by the two most dangerous men in the Morelli family? Yes, please.
I crawl closer to Mateo, unsure. Somehow despite the orgasm I’m barely recovered from, the desire in his eyes sends excitement coursing through me.
“My turn,” he says.
Oh, my god, what?
Amusement flits across his face, seeing the stunned look on mine, then he says, “Suck my cock, Mia.”
My gaze darts over to Meg, confused, uncertain. Meg nods her encouragement and my stomach bottoms out. “Seriously?”
“Go for it,” she says, almost amused. “This is fun.”
I don’t need any more encouragement than that. Dragging his pants down his hips, I toss them onto the floor and greedily bend to take his cock in my mouth. It�
�s so strange to know Adrian’s was there only moments before, but somehow that only makes it hotter.
Mateo’s hand moves through my hair, more tenderly than Adrian’s did, but then he fists it, just the same. “You like that, don’t you, Mia?”
I can’t speak with his cock in my mouth, but I offer an enthusiastic moan in place of words.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, guiding my head as I take his cock faster. “You’re my nasty little whore, aren’t you, Mia?”
I squeeze my legs together, forgetting what he could do to me with that mouth of his. My own excitement only makes me more enthusiastic. I want to make him come. I want my lips on his cock to be the thing that sends that pleasure coursing through him as he empties himself into my mouth.
And then he does, and I’m so greedy for it, I take every bit.
I’m almost sad as I pull back, my lips closing over his tip before coming off, giving him one last kiss.
Relaxing against his pillows, Mateo gifts me with a warm little smile. “Good girl.”
---
My heart races and I can’t look at either one of them. “And they all lived happily ever after.”
The silence in this bedroom is terrifying. I want to die from mortification, so I yank the blanket up over my face. “You told me it had to be really dirty!”
Meg reaches over, snatching the blanket off my head and pulling it down. She’s gaping at me in amused horror. “Bitch, I’m supposed to be the kinky one! And you bring that to the table.”