Leaning into Mateo’s side as we head back toward the media room, I tell him, “I think they like trick-or-treating.”
“Yes, I’d say so.”
“We’ll have to do this every year. Next year we can be flappers. I’m very interested in seeing you in this fedora.”
Glancing down at the green cleavage pushed up and nearly spilling out of my dress, he informs me, “I’m very interesting in seeing you out of this dress.”
“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” I tease.
His hand snakes around my waist and he pulls me firmly against him, halting my journey toward the media room. “That can be arranged. Let’s skip the movie.”
“We can’t skip the movie,” I tell him, attempting to push his hand from my hip.
His grip tightens. “We can do whatever we want.”
“The kids are looking forward to watching the movie together.”
“Sal and Francesca are here; they have Meg, Adrian, and Elise. Lots of moviegoers tonight. They won’t miss us,” he insists. “I don’t want to watch Hocus Pocus. I want to rip this dress off you, bend you over your bed, and fuck you senseless.”
“That does sound like much more fun,” I admit. “And I have been a very naughty witch.”
He runs a hand over my ass, then gives it a squeeze. “See? Bad witches need to be punished.”
“I’m really glad I’m the bad witch.”
He chuckles in my ear, then trails his lips along my neck. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
“Please?” I ask, sweetly, leaning my head back against his shoulder. I let my head fall to the side, nearer to his ear. “Let’s watch the movie with everybody first. Then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me afterward.”
“I always do whatever I want to you,” he reminds me.
“I know; I don’t have anything new to offer you.”
“No room to negotiate, then. You lose.”
“Mateo.” I take his hand and turn, giving him a little kiss, then dragging him toward the media room.
He lets me pull him along, but voices his objection anyway. “I won. Why are we going to the media room?”
I don’t tell him he lost, but I’d say by the time we’re settled in on the couch with Rosalie on his lap and Meg on his other side, he figures it out.
COMING HOME
Deleted Scene One
This is more smutty goodness! In the vein of Sexy Scrabble Parties. If you panic, just keep reading. Basically nothing I write in this series can be taken at “I read part of this” value.
Naughty Gremlins
Mia
“Take a shot.”
Adrian groans, his head falling back against the soft surface of the black leather couch. “No more.”
“Rules are rules,” Mateo states, shaking his head and smiling.
We’re supposed to be watching Gremlins, but at this point I think Mateo is more entertained by his increasingly wasted best friend than the movie. They started a drinking game before the movie, but this was after having their usual drink before dinner, then another drink after dinner while they were talking business. Mateo has a higher tolerance than Adrian to begin with, but I think he’s cheating. Adrian is super drunk and Mateo is barely buzzed, but they’ve supposedly been drinking the same amount.
Adrian has stopped keeping track. In the beginning he made sure his mischievous boss was matching him shot for shot, but by this point he doesn’t even look Mateo’s way.
“Is this movie over yet? I’m going to die,” Adrian replies.
“Nah, you’ll just feel like shit tomorrow,” Mateo tells him. “Drink up.”
Heaving a sigh, Adrian leans forward and grabs his shot glass and the decanter off the ground. Apparently holding both things is too much work for him in this state, because he balances the shot glass on my thigh and tells me, “Hold this.”
“Yes, sir,” I answer, my fingers curling around the glass and holding it in place while he uses both hands to hold the decanter. He manages to fill the glass, but some of the liquor sloshes over the edge and soaks my dress.
“Aw, shit. Sorry, Mia.”
It’s obviously not a big deal, but I still lightly shove him in the arm and tell him, “Good job, Adrian.”
Mateo puts his shot glass back on the ground—I guess he did take his shot, too—and leans heavily against the couch. “What’d he do?”
Adrian answers before I can. “Got whiskey on your wife’s pretty dress.”
“Good job,” Mateo answers.
“Yeah. Oh well,” Adrian adds, decisively, before tipping back the shot and emptying it in his mouth. Leaning forward to put it back on the ground, he says, “Guess she’ll just have to take it off.”
My jaw drops and I cut Mateo a look of stunned amusement. “Oh, my god. He is so drunk.”
“He’s got a point, though,” Mateo replies, his warm gaze raking over my body. “Can’t very well sit here in a wet dress, now can you?”
I shake my head, turning my attention back to the television. “Wow, you are both hammered.