Page 95 of Hostile Love
Together we climb the stairs in silence and when we reach the landing, his eyes are on me again.
“Sooo…” He drags out the word. “Are you and Tommy friends now?”
“Pffft…” I roll my eyes. “Definitely not friends. Let’s just say I’m learning to tolerate him for your benefit.”
“Did you two talk or something after you got back from Colombia?”
I stop breathing for a second. Warmth spreads to my cheeks the longer he stares. There can’t be any secrets between us.
Although, if he found out how cruel his brother had been—how they’d tricked me—almost broke me, he’d go nuts. I don’t see the point in telling tales now all our cards are on the table.
“Sort of.” I shrug.
He opens the door to his bedroom and gestures for me to enter first.
“Your brothers had to make sure we were all on the same page. You know, with me being an agent and a Blanco—and intoyou.”
I move inside his suite, noting the extra-large bed we’d played in the night before is made. Piles of brand-new, folded clothes sit on top of the comforter and boot boxes are stacked up on the floor.
Clearly, Tomás wasn’t the only one who had phoned ahead.
He prowls up behind me and places his hands on my hips.
“Keep talking.”
“Tomás told me something important…something that changed how I see things.”
His breath is warm on top of my head and his fingers skate to the button of my leather pants.
“How you see him?”
I lean back, aware of his bare chest and how everything inside me is hotter.
“Your brother left the door to the barn open on purpose. He distracted Elias and his men while I escaped, Mat. Tomás is the reason I survived.”
I swallow, my throat dry and my eyes gritty. Matheus unhands my body and positions himself in front of me. He blinks slowly, trying to process what I just said.
His eyes aren’t quite chestnut colored in this light. They’re richer, a dark chocolate.
“I can’t hate the man who helped me escape,” I whisper.
He finally exhales when my lips curl into a sulky smirk.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like him, though. He’s still an asshole.”
“Tommy was more of a father to me than Elias,” he says. “If you two could build a bridge and walk over it, I’d be a happy man.”
I stare up at him, my heart fluttering and my clit throbbing.
“I’ll walk over it. But if he challenges me, I’ll blow the bridge to shit and there won’t be a way back.”
He grins. “There’s my little firecracker.”
“Whatever, smartass.” I try to hide my smile.
“You’re very dirty, Daniela.” He reaches for my zipper. “You’re covered in blood and sweat. Neither of which are mine. All of it has to come off.”
My skin tingles and heats, the ache in my belly blazing.
