Page 119 of Forget Me

“Thank you. You work so hard. For los niños. I’m happy to help you.”

Rosa knew. She worked hard for her own cause of domestic abuse victims. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of work…” I should put down the bags of groceries, wash my hands, and help them, but I couldn’t make myself move away from Mateo. “I have some good news.”

“A big donation?” Mateo tightened his arms around me.

“No fair guessing. But yes. I’m going to wait until everyone else is here to tell you who it’s from.”

“What do I get if I guess it first?” His hand stroked down under my raincoat to my ass and squeezed it in a bordering-on-R-rated way.

I pushed away, my cheeks flaming. “Nothing. So don’t bother. I won’t tell.”

I turned to the table to set down the grocery bags, but he was there, pressing his hard body to my back and banding his arms around my waist.

“Here’s what I want fornotguessing.” And he whispered something so filthy in my ear that I was definitely going to have to change my panties before my other guests got here.

“Fine. Twist my arm.” Wow, it had gotten hot in the kitchen.

Rosa cleared her throat. “I’m just going to start the potatoes. Mateo, go help Mimi get ready for her guests.”

My face burned. “Just give me a minute to wash up, and I’ll peel the potatoes.”

“Already done.” Mateo gripped my hand and three seconds later, he pressed me against my bedroom door, pushing my raincoat off my shoulders as he kissed me, hot and needy.

“But.” I gasped for air. “My family’s going to be here in”—I checked my phone—“twenty-three minutes.”

He plucked the phone out of my hand and set it on the dresser. “Then we don’t have time for talking.”

He unbuttoned my slacks and tunneled his hand inside. “Ah, Mimi, so wet for me.”

I palmed the front of his—apron? A snarky comment rose to my lips, but as soon as he thrummed my clit, I forgot it. In fact, I forgot how to breathe. I became a pillar of pure pleasure. My ears buzzed.

Buzzed?

“Mateo, stop. I think someone’s at the door.”

“They can wait,” he growled. “I can make you come in three minutes. Two if I—” He wedged a second hand into my pants, from the back this time.

“No, Mateo.” I gripped his shoulders. All I wanted to do was hold on and let him guide me to my release, but I couldn’t. Not while my guests—my flippingearlyguests—waited outside in the rain. “Stop.”

He stopped, but when he pulled his hand out of my panties, he gave his fingers a thoroughly obscene lick.

“You’re killing me.” I adjusted my underwear and buttoned my pants.

“Two minutes?” He raised his eyebrows.

I rose on my toes and kissed him. “No. No matter how handsome you are and how good you are at that, we have guests.” An ice storm zinged through me at that.Wedidn’t have guests;Idid. But that little word,we,kept creeping into my speech.

I didn’t hate it.

Fluttering my hands over my blouse, I rushed out to the main room and pressed the intercom button. “Hey.”

“I was about to get out my key and make sure you hadn’t succumbed to the flames shooting out of your oven.”

“Ha, ha, Benny. I should make you wait out there.” But then I remembered he was bringing Cooper. Although he wasn’t my boss anymore, I planned to hit him up for another donation to Jackson’s foundation before the end of the year. I hit the buzzer to let them in.

I opened the door a crack and ran back through to the bedroom to my bathroom, where Mateo was washing his hands.

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