Page 79 of Faded Gray Lines

I stared up at him, his ultimatum resonating on the most basic of levels. Normally, it was Mateo’s restrained darkness that called to me, daring me to close my eyes and step off the ledge. But tonight, the rules I’d followed my whole life had failed me. I stood here tattered and outplayed. I was tired of living in fear. I was tired of living a lie.

But mostly, I was tired of talking.

Releasing what was left of my dress, I let it drop to my feet. Mateo’s shocked gaze followed the falling material, and I stood before him completely naked, not saying a word until his eyes settled back on my face. “I want to fuck.”

I expected to be slammed against the wall, bent over the couch, or at the very least pushed to the floor. I’d never been much of a dirty talker, so I figured the shock value alone would’ve tripped Mateo’s need to control me. It’d always been his thing. I guess taking orders all his life manifested itself as a need to dominate in the most primal way. However, I let out a yelp as he scooped me into his arms and carried me down the hallway and into the bedroom.

I had to fight to form words. The way he laid me reverently on the bed and gazed down at me while unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off his chest left me breathless and confused. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t us. Mateo wasn’t a mattress kind of guy.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I watched him push his jeans down his thighs. “You said if I wanted to fight, we’d fight, and if I wanted to fuck, we’d fuck. I said I wanted to fuck.”

“I’m adding a third option.”

“Which is?”

Kicking his jeans across the room, he leaned over me, entwining our hands and pressing them by my head. “If you want to make love, we’ll make love.”

I shook my head, the feel of his heavy cock brushing against my inner thigh making me squirm. “I don’t want that.”

“That’s too bad,mi amor. I do. See, I think you want me to fuck you because you want a reason to hate me. You want me to hurt you because you need someone to blame for what’s really tearing you up inside.” Licking his lips, he grazed them across my jaw. “Well, tough shit, little lamb. I won’t be him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? I think you don’t want to make love because you’ve forgotten how it feels.” Shifting his hips, he rubbed his thick shaft against my wetness. “Let me remind you how good it can be.”

The whimper he dragged out of me proved he was wrong. I remembered how good it felt all too well. I also remembered how bad it eventually hurt. How it stripped me to my bare soul and left me bleeding. Making love with Mateo wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. Once we truly made love, I’d fall. I’d lose myself and belong to a man who could never fully belong to me.

He kissed my lips, softly and gently, drinking the last of my willpower until it was gone. The whole night, our fight, the accusations, all the lies...everything vanished the minute his body sank into mine. Choking out a strangled version of his name, I arched my back off the bed.

“Esto es amor, mi estrella.” This is love, my star.

He took me just as he promised—slow and steady while staring in my eyes the whole time. His body shook with need, but he held himself back until I came two more times. Then, and only then, did he give in and fill me with not only himself, but every promise he’d made.

And just like that, I fell.

Twenty-Seven

Leighton

I woke up alone again.

However, this time, instead of finding Mateo’s side of the bed cold, I found a scribbled note laying across his pillow. Yawning, I picked it up and rubbed my eyes while scanning his horrible handwriting.

Mi amor,

I had to run some errands. Someone ruined your dress last night, so I stopped by Brody’s and picked up some clothes for you. However, feel free to stay naked in my bed until I return.

Mateo

P.S.

Since you have to work tonight, I had my men drive your car over. I’ll think of some ways you can thank me later.

Placing the note back on his pillow, I pulled the sheet around me and stared at the paper. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. If Mateo said he was here to protect me, I had to trust him. If he got arrested and didn’t leave me on purpose, I had to believe him. And if he claimed to have no idea what I was talking about when I condemned his choices after he got out, I had to find out why.

In fact, there were a lot of hard conversations I needed to have today, and without being sure what time Mateo left this morning, there was no time to waste. Wrapping the sheet around me, I stumbled toward the dresser, finding a full outfit folded neatly on the edge. The fact he’d neglected to bring me any undergarments wasn’t an oversight.

Asshole.