Seducing Carma [Passion Peak, Colorado 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tara Rose

  “I like that color.”

  She followed his gaze down to her crimson toenails, suddenly glad she’d taken the time to get a mani and pedi on Sunday. “Thanks.” Carma tucked her legs underneath her body as his gaze traveled up slowly to her face.

  “In fact, your entire outfit is nice. You look good in red.”

  She’d thrown on something this morning without even thinking about it. The red tank top she was currently wearing had seen better days, and the white cotton cropped pants were part of her standard summer wardrobe. “Thank you, Mateo.” Now that she didn’t have the chicken to distract her, she mentally struggled for something to say. Would he ask about this morning, or would she have to broach the subject?

  “Want to see the rest of the wing?”

  She shook her head. “Later.” Taking her legs out from underneath, she leaned forward, swallowing hard. She took a large sip of wine. She could do this. Who knows what he thought had happened after what Van had told him. If she waited until after they’d eaten, she might lose her nerve and never tell him.

  “Mateo, I have a cousin named Michael. No one knows where he is right now. Two years ago his sister Nadine told us all that Michael had fled the country. Apparently he called her a few times after that, but she hasn’t heard from him in over a year.”

  Mateo nodded, his expression now guarded.

  “When I was eighteen and had graduated from high school, my parents sent me and Coco to Chicago for the summer to stay with my Uncle Dominick and Aunt Shelly. We did that a lot when I was kid. Went to stay with out-of-town relatives over school breaks. I usually went to Ohio to stay with Annalise and her parents, but that summer she was in Sicily with them, and Coco and I were the only two of my siblings who hadn’t yet spent the summer in Chicago.”

  Carma took another sip of wine. “Coco and Nadine were both nineteen and they bonded. Tim was seventeen, and he had a girlfriend, so he was with her all the time. My uncle was never home, and when he was, he was on the phone with his business associates.”

  Mateo frowned at the tone in her voice, and she felt as though she needed to explain that a bit more before she went on. “I don’t suppose it’s a secret that there have always been rumors about certain members of my family being involved in the Mafia.”

  He shook his head. “Your family does that have history in this town, but no one I’ve ever heard of says that about the current members who live here.”

  She nodded. “That’s good to know. Anyway, my aunt Shelly also worked and she went out at night a lot to bingo and I’m not sure what else. I was home alone with Michael at the beginning of the summer, and I didn’t know anyone else in Chicago, so I was stuck.”

  “What a shitty way for a kid to start a summer.”

  She nodded, and then took another large sip of wine, draining the glass. Without asking, he took the glass and rose. When he returned, he handed her the refilled glass and placed the bottle on the coffee table in front of them.

  “I didn’t know Michael, Nadine, or Tim very well. We never spent a lot of time with them.” Carma took a deep breath. She could do this. “Michael…he tried to rape me. I didn’t know what to do, or who to tell.”

  Carma put the wine glass down as her hand started to shake. Mateo moved closer and put his arm around her, pulling her close. She relaxed into his embrace and continued. “He told me that no one would believe me if I told them, and that if I did tell anyone, he’d hurt me badly. I fought him off. He had a deep gash in his forehead from where I’d hit him with his alarm clock, and the only reason he stopped is because his father came home, and yelled up the stairs for him.”

  Carma took several deep breaths, summoning all her courage.

  “He’d stolen a car the day before, with some of his hoodlum friends. The cops were looking for him, and I never did find out how my Uncle Dominick knew, but Michael was arrested later that day. I think his father wanted to teach him a lesson or something. I don’t know. I never asked.”

  “Did he bother you again?”

  She shook her head. “The charges were dropped. Again, I don’t know how or why they were, but I’m not surprised. My uncle had a lot of friends, including dirty cops. Michael stayed one more day, and then he was sent to New York City to stay with family in a high-rise apartment where they could keep an eye on him. But before he left, he told me he would get out of there and come back to finish what he’d started, and this time I wouldn’t be able to fight him off.”

  She took a deep breath. She could still hear Michael’s voice. How was that possible, all these years later? “He told me in graphic detail exactly what he’d do to me when he found his way back to Chicago. I lived in fear all summer that he’d follow through on the threat.”

  She glanced up at him, and he averted his gaze, but not before she caught the emotion in his eyes. He wasn’t disgusted, at least not with her. He was angry that she’d gone through this.

  “Carma, I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. He never returned that summer, and then I came home and never said a word. Not to anyone, until this morning. I felt so cheap and dirty at the time. So violated, even though I stopped him. But most of all, I was terrified for three months. Every time I was alone in the house, which was far too often, all I would do is sit and wait, listening to every strange sound.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you, Mateo.”

  They sat still for a few moments, and Carma relaxed even more into his strong embrace. His body was warm and muscular, and she wished he’d been the first man to make love to her under circumstances like the ones she’d read about in books or watched in movies. Circumstances where they’d been in love, or at least in lust.

  “Carma, have you…since then…have you had an…an intimate relationship? Have you even dated?”

  She pulled away and looked into his eyes. He was asking out of concern for her, not because of morbid curiosity. She was touched that he would even care. A shiver of desire raced through her, surprising her with both its presence and its intensity. “I’ve tried, but my relationships never lasted long or ended well.”

  “Is that because you’ve never been able to talk about this, or when Michael tried to…I mean…there’s no easy to way to ask this.”

  “It’s okay. Just ask.”

  “How far did he get?”

  Carma swallowed hard. “My shirt was torn. That doesn’t make it sound like much, does it?”

  Anger clouded his eyes. “Of course it does. He never should have tried to begin with.”

  She was grateful for his words. They reassured that her lingering trauma was justified. “Thank you, Mateo. To try and answer your question, I don’t know if that was the reason, or if I just can’t trust anyone.”

  “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me, Carma.”

  “I do trust you.” It was true. Once the dam had burst this morning, telling Mateo had seemed like the right thing to do. Being in his home felt right. She wasn’t uncomfortable or afraid right now, which was so unusual, she began to think she might be dreaming all this.

  He poured more wine for himself and then handed her glass to her. He gently clinked his glass against hers. “To helping you heal from this.”

  “I’ll drink to that, but honestly, Mateo...I have no idea how to do that. How to heal from it.”

  “You took a huge step today. You confronted family members and you told people. I’m no psychologist, but that sounds like a good start to me.”

  “Is it? Okay. I can buy that. But now what? What’s the next step?”

  He shrugged. “That’s up to you. What do you want to be different in your life, aside from the obvious of being able to undo it, which you can’t.”

  “I’d like to stop the dreams. And—” She stopped, unsure whether to say it.

  “And what? You can tell me, Carma.”

  “If I do, you might think I’m even more fucked up than you probably believe right now.”
<
br />   A flash of pain passed across his face. “Carma, we’re all fucked up in our own ways. And just for the record, I don’t think you’re fucked up at all. I think you’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever met.”

  Carma stared into his topaz-colored eyes and wanted so badly to tell him everything. All her secret fantasies, the times she’d imagined him making love to her the way she longed for it to be, and the dreams she’d had about him. She felt compelled to do so, and she didn’t know why. She only knew it felt right.

  Chapter Eight

  Carma took a deep breath and just let the words come out with the next exhale. “What I was going to say was that I want to know what sex is supposed to be like. I want to make love without fear, and without freaking out about it. I may never have seen a shrink, but I know what Michael did to me was wrong. It was the first time I was touched by a man, and instead of it being romantic or seductive, it was scary as hell, and forced. I know that foreplay or sex isn’t supposed to be that way. I want to experience it without having the guy make fun of me because of my inhibitions and fears.”

  She hadn’t meant to start crying again, but the tears came and she couldn’t stop them. Mateo took her wine glass and placed it on the table, and then he held her in his arms again. This time, there was an urgency to his embrace that hadn’t been there earlier, and Carma gave herself over to it.

  “No one should have done that to you, least of all a family member. And the men you dated shouldn’t have made fun of you. Who was it? Who made fun of your fears, Carma?”

  “I’d rather not say. You probably know them. I’ve never dated anyone who didn’t live here in Passion Peak.” Carma pulled out of his embrace and stood up. “The chicken won’t be done for another ten minutes. How about giving me that tour you offered earlier?” How could she tell him the names of the three men in this town she’d had sex with? It would be too humiliating.

  He gave her a look that she couldn’t interpret. It was somewhere between irritation and empathy, and she thought for a moment he was going to insist on names, but then finally he rose and took her hand.

  “I wanted an open concept up here, which is why this is one big room.” He pointed toward a hallway at the opposite end of the room. “There’s a half bath and a closet down there, and off the kitchen is a screened-in balcony that overlooks the east pastures.”

  He motioned her through a second set of French doors and onto a balcony that gave a stunning view of the mountains in the distance and the swimming pool below. “I love to come out here at night and just sit.”

  Carma scanned the horizon. “There’s Sleepy Cat Peak.”

  “Yes. Do you believe in it? The legend?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have about three hundred pamphlets from The Sleepy Cat Society that I’ve collected over the years, but I haven’t read one of them.”

  Mateo laughed. “What do you do with them?”

  “Put them in a drawer. I feel sorry for them, so I’m always reluctant to say no when they stand on the street corners downtown and pass them out.”

  “They’ve been doing that since before we were born, Carma.”

  “I know.”

  “Don’t tell me you have a t-shirt or two as well?”

  She shook her head. “No. But my oldest sister, Caprice, has one of those throw pillows they were selling last year.”

  “Think I should get one?”

  She laughed. “No. The colors are all wrong for your decorating style.”

  Mateo put a hand up to his forehead to shade his eyes. “I just realized that Blaine can see this same view from his new condo.”

  “Is that the new client you told me about?” She didn’t want to tell him that Van had already told her about Blaine.

  He nodded. “Yes.” He led her back inside and toward a spiral wrought-iron staircase. “All the bedrooms are up here.”

  They ascended, and he led her past the first two rooms, one on each side of the hallway. “I bought bedroom sets for both so now I have guest rooms, but I don’t have much use for either, to be honest. It’s just that I can’t figure out what else to do with them.”

  “I wish I had three bedrooms. I live in a one-bedroom apartment that’s about the size of your kitchen.”

  He smiled. “What would you do with the spare rooms if you had them?”

  “No clue, honestly.” She laughed softly, and it felt nice to do so. Holding his hand sent warmth throughout her body. His touch helped fill the chilly places that had settled around her heart this morning.

  When they reached his room, he motioned her inside first. It was decorated in rich tones of navy blue and maroon, and totally fit his personality. The room smelled faintly of sage and vanilla, which surprised her. In fact, the entire ambiance was different than in the other the rooms, though she couldn’t say why. “It’s lovely, Mateo. Really comfortable and inviting. I’d never be able to leave it.”

  “Well, we don’t have to, Carma.”

  She didn’t turn around, but she felt his presence behind her. The only part of his body she touched was his hand, and now that contact felt electrified, as though the air was charged with energy from a looming thunderstorm.

  “Should we bring the chicken up here to eat?” he asked, softly.

  This time she did turn around because she suddenly became convinced he was teasing her. She was wrong. His face held nothing but sincerity. As she stared into his eyes, she watched the emotions cross them, and just before he bent his head and kissed her, she’d known he was about to do it.

  She clung to his hand and kept her mouth closed as his full lips moved over hers, sending jolts of desire straight to her nipples and clit. Carma had never been kissed like this. It filled her entire being, making her dizzy with need and a longing she couldn’t hang a label on. It washed away the guilt and the shame, and it soothed the fear and hesitation.

  The scent in the room combined with his, and with the smell of the roasting chicken downstairs, until she couldn’t distinguish one from the other. She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders as his tongue teased her lips. When she parted hers to let it inside, a loud moan escaped her throat. So this was what it was supposed to feel like…this heady desire that made her feel as if she were melting into him.

  Mateo’s tongue worked its magic inside her mouth as Carma pushed closer to his body, this time acknowledging the bulge in his jeans instead of ignoring it. One hand moved over her hair, softly stroking it, and the other brushed down her back until it rested on her left ass cheek. She moaned again as an image of that hand spanking her rose up. Where the hell had that come from?

  She didn’t care. This time, instead of pushing away the decadent thoughts like she usually did while she was cutting his hair, she let them happen. This wasn’t sordid, and it wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t humiliating or embarrassing. It was erotic, and passionate, and she wanted more.

  She moved her tongue over his, trying to imitate what he was doing. She must have done something right because the hand on her hair suddenly tangled itself in her strands. The hand on her ass squeezed the cheek, and then lightly slapped it.

  Carma groaned and moved her lips and tongue more boldly now, pushing her body closer to his. An urge to grind against his erection overtook her, but she wasn’t feeling quite that uninhibited yet.

  The oven timer buzzed, breaking the spell. Mateo looked into her eyes, an expression of both shock and pure joy on his face. Carma laughed softly as she watched him, unable to believe what had just happened, and hoping like crazy that it had been as good for him.

  “Carma…wow…”

  She put a hand to her mouth. His reaction wasn’t what she’d expected, and it wasn’t one that she’d ever elicited from any man she’d kissed. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Wow is right.”

  The buzzer sounded again, and he shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “Um, we don’t want the food to burn.”

  “No, we don’t.” They stared at
each other for a few more seconds before finally going downstairs.

  Carma could feel Mateo’s eyes on her as she filled their plates with food. He brought the wine bottle in from where he’d left it in the living room, along with their glasses, and they sat at the kitchen counter on stools next to each other.

  “This is fabulous.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding? You know my family, Mateo. Food is like sex to them.”

  “This is pretty damn near as good,” he muttered, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

  Carma drank a large sip of wine, and then she began to eat. She’d take his word on the food being as good as sex. Although, if he made love as well as he kissed, there wasn’t a dish she’d ever tasted that would come close to being as amazing.

  “I’m glad you’re not upset that I kissed you.”

  She finally looked into his eyes. “Why on earth would I be? I’ve wanted you to do that for years.” Carma actually clamped a hand over her mouth, and then she pushed away her wine glass. Time to cut herself off, apparently.

  Mateo put down his fork and gave her a long searching look. “Carma Mandanici, exactly how many years would that be? And don’t tell me you don’t know the answer to that question.”

  His voice was soft, but it held a commanding tone she’d never heard before. It sent her mind hurtling toward dark fantasies that she’d never shared with anyone. She had to obey it. “Oh, I guess since somewhere around ninth grade, if I’m being honest.”

  “Why didn’t I know that?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was asking her, or just putting the question out there for the universe to answer.

  “Probably because I never told you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

  He brushed a finger lightly over her cheek, just once, but his touch burned and she craved more. When he began to eat again, so did she. He didn’t ask any more questions, and when they finished, once again he helped her clean up. They put the leftover food into plastic containers, and then Carma leaned against the counter and waited for Mateo to say something.