Entrapment (Morelli Family 7.5)

After a moment, I drop my hand.

Okay, that was a flop.

Is he going to speak? Or move? Or give me fucking anything? I feel like I’m at an audition, performing for an audience of one without knowing which role I’m trying out for. Someone should’ve sent me a copy of the fucking script.

Well, best to keep things going. Girlfriend experience, girlfriend experience….

I keep my tone even and sweet. “How is your day going?” He doesn’t answer. I’m already beginning to expect that. I ignore his lack of response and continue on. “Mine was okay. I missed you, though. I was at home all by myself, so I just lazed around in my bed all day. I didn’t even bother getting dressed. Not until it was time to come see you, anyway,” I add, more fondly. I take a step to the side. He watches me, but doesn’t move. He lets me move around him, step behind him. With light, uncertain fingers, I rest my hands on his shoulders. To be honest, I half expect him to swat me away, but he allows me to continue, so I must be doing something right. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day,” I assure him. “I started thinking about you earlier, in my bed, when I was all alone. But…” I pause, biting down on my bottom lip and laughing shyly. “Well, I imagined I wasn’t alone. That’s silly, isn’t it? But I thought about what we would do if you were there with me. How much more fun it would be.”

He turns his head, glancing back at me, but he doesn’t offer any more than that. I assume I’m on the right track. If he doesn’t like this, he would let me know, right?

I press my breasts against his back—just a lean, an innocent enough move. My fingers work the edges of his jacket. I start to peel it off him, and he doesn’t stop me, so I keep talking.

“When I started thinking about you being there with me, I got so….” I sigh, like I can’t bring myself to say it. I finish taking off his jacket, then I take a step back and drop it on the bed. It’s his turn to make a move. He needs to give a little here, or I’ll be talking all night about how hot I got for him in my imaginary, probably pink, sorority-girl-pillow-fight-hosting bedroom.

“I got so wet, thinking about you,” I tell him, as I drop lightly onto the edge of the bed. “You wanna see how wet you make me, Mateo?”

I brace my hands behind me on the bed. I scoot back and cross my legs, drawing his attention to the incredibly short hemline of my tight black dress. (Incidentally, I would not have worn this dress, had I realized he might like them a little more innocent. Not much I can do about it now, so I’ll make it work.)

Finally, he speaks. “Not bad.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. First, at hearing his voice for the first time. God, he has a good voice. He finally takes a step closer. My heart pounds in response. It feels like a reward for my efforts.

He leans forward, bracing one hand on either side of me on the bed. A breath rushes out of me and I flash him the doe eyes, but I hold his gaze. He drifts closer. I think he’s going to kiss me, but he brings a hand up and suddenly pushes me back on the bed. I wasn’t expecting it, nor was I expecting him to pounce afterward, straddling my hips and pinning me to the mattress.

Heart hammering, I search his face. Is this part of the game? Do I keep up the character I was playing? Is this a rape fantasy or a girlfriend experience? Those are usually not requested in the same night. Why couldn’t the asshole have just given me the information I requested before I showed up in this hotel room?

The sound of a man clearing his throat steals my attention. I dart a look over at the man with the scarred face. I didn’t even realize he followed me in here, but he’s standing guard at the door. I guess he’s going to watch. I don’t especially care, but it’s not my preference. Right now his narrowed gaze is on Mateo. He does not look remotely impressed.

Mateo ignores him, watching me. “Can you do rape?”

My gaze darts back to him and I nod my head quickly. “Sure. Do you want me scared, angry? Want me to fight you? Plead with you? I can probably cry if you need me to.”

He nods once at the option he likes. “Play it sweet. You’re more worried about my soul than your body. Plead with me to stop. Appeal to the good in me—you’re sure it’s in there, if you just look deep enough.”