Page 23 of For Pleasure Or Worse

“They surprisingly hurt the least,” Ophelia said. “Have fun with your lonely rich guy, and then drink some wine in the bathtub and add some really expensive linens to your registry.So your sisters can buy the sheets you make more money than them getting fucked in.”

“That is exactly the pep talk I needed.” A happy hum warmed my chest. “Thank you, love you more.”

“Love you more.”

chapter seven

Natalia

14 months ago

Our fingers were lazily intertwinedas I unlocked the beige door to my apartment, shouldering the latch that often stuck in the humidity. I’d left the ceiling fan turning and a waft of cold air hit us. I breathed out a sigh of relief but my pulse hammered in my ears. I hadn’t brought a man into my apartment in months, and even then I was just scratching an itch. Thiswasscratching an itch—a very irritated, persistent, violently growing itch named Mateo Duran, because if I went to bed tonight without knowing what his mouth felt like on my body I might never sleep.

The brassy bulb hanging over the table buzzed to life as I flipped the light switch and dropped my keys on the kitchen island. Mateo shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch while I tried to discreetly swipe a pile of mail into the corner of the counter, as if he cared. As if we could think about anything other than the massive weight of the elephant in the room. I quite literally invited him upstairs to have sex, but now I was so nervous I couldn’t even look him in the eye. It hurt to swallow, and I knew a patch of red was starting to form rightat the base of my collarbone like it always did when I couldn’t rope my emotions.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I think that liter of soda at the roller rink was enough.” For the first time I glanced up and though his words were light-hearted, his hazel eyes had darkened to coal. He had both hands in his pockets, studying me as he stepped closer. His tongue swept across his lips.

My back hit the counter and I braced my hands on it. He was so close now I could see the threads weaving over one another on his black shirt, and the subtle tease of his cologne invaded my space. I wanted to run my nose across the vein on his neck and breathe it in. Every nerve low in my belly was tying itself in a knot in anticipation. But this is what I did—sex. Sex was second nature to me. I knew how to entice a man, intrigue him, put on a show, exude confidence. I did it regularly. But for some reason, with Mateo standing in front of me, I forgot everything. I wanted him so badly it froze me in place.

Mateo’s eyes fell to my mouth and he spoke slowly, sending a flutter straight through me. “Tell me again, what happens if I kiss you right now?” His sweet voice was low and deep. There was something cutting about how naturally he went from playful to dominant.

“I think I might kiss you back.” I was as breathy as he was heady.

His lip twitched and our thighs brushed. “Then I might get a little handsy, fair warning. Because I have been dying to touch you in a way we won’t come back from.”

Chills pebbled up my arms and my core tightened. I tilted my chin up and he braced one of his arms against the counter, his much larger hand landing beside mine and partially caging me in.

“As long as I have your permission, Tally.”

I let my eyes close and my lips part, his nose brushed against my cheek so briefly, and then soft lips fell over mine. He kissed me like I might fall apart if he wasn’t careful. Like he might scare me away but needed to do it anyway, and I momentarily forgot my promise to kiss him back because I was so lost in that pillowy caress, how our lips moved perfectly against one another and how the hair on his lip brushed me so sensually that I sighed.

He pulled away timidly, waiting. Honeyed eyes flitting back and forth between my glazed ones. Mateo wanted me to take the lead, and I tasted what little wetness he had left on my mouth like it was water in a drought and slid my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him back to me.

That was like opening a gate. Suddenly, we weren’t moving slowly or cautiously anymore. Mateo’s lips crashed into mine and our tongues lashed against one another in a way that confirmed the sexual frustration wasn’t one-sided. My entire body reacted in a wave of tingling shocks, from my head down my spine, gathering at my core in a flood of heat and desperation that I welcomed. Mateo wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me to him, his large warm hands sliding up and down. I felt fragile in his strong hold and without thinking, I lifted my hips, pushing up slightly onto my toes. Immediately, both of his hands slid under my ass and lifted my legs to latch around his waist.

My head fell back and he kissed my exposed neck, tasting me as he worked his way up and sunk his teeth into the lobe of my ear. The noise that came out of me made him huff out a short, deep laugh.

“I want more where that came from,” he said. “Tell me what I have to do to hear you like that in my ear for the rest of the night.”

Mateo took a step forward and planted me on the counter, pressing his entire body between my legs at the perfect height tofeel that hard resistance between us at the zipper of his pants. I pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. At the center of his chest was a tattoo of a family crest that spread over tight muscle and dark hair. His happy trail ran in a line down his torso, patching over his belly button and tucking itself into the waistline of his jeans. I traced my fingers over fine lines, touching everywhere there was ink. Mateo’s breathing toppled over itself, every swallow cording his throat as if my timid graze were too much. Goosebumps fanned across his arms and chest.

“Do you have any tattoos I should know about?” he asked.

His erection had grown impossible to ignore and I didn’t try to hide the fact that I was looking, my gaze filling in the blanks. Very large, veiny blanks that I prayed my optimism wasn’t overcompensating for. “If you can find them, you can see them,” I said.

Mateo ran a hand up my thigh, to the hem of my shirt, and lifted it swiftly over my head. He didn’t pause before closing the distance and winding his hands behind my back to unclip my lacy black bralette. It dropped onto my lap and the cool air puckered my already sensitive nipples.

Mateo’s eyes dropped, hooding almost entirely before clamping shut. He bit down on his knuckle in glorious, welcomed agony. “Fuck.Fuck.”

I dragged his rough hands to my breasts to coach him into squeezing and playing with me. To my satisfaction and on his own accord, Mateo dipped down to take one in his mouth, sucking on my nipple. My eyes lulled into the back of my head.

“Bedroom,” I called out. “Second door on the right.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Thank God I’d thrown my entire life in my closet before our date. I was so predictable, I couldn’t even fool myself. I slid to the carpeted floor, kicking out of my shoes. Mateo’s hands went to the button on my jeans, and mine flung to his in the samepattern—through the hole, zipper down, my fingers breaching his waistband and pulling it off until he stood in only tight black boxer briefs.

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