Smiling smugly, he lets his hand skim my bare side, coming up to catch my breast in his palm, caressing the sensitive flesh. “I was just biding my time until you came along.”
“You should’ve bided it hiking or something,” I inform him, rolling with him so he can move on top of me.
“I picked up a few tricks though, now you get to benefit from them. Think of all the orgasms I can give you on our honeymoon with my skills.”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, lightly. “I think I might need a demonstration.”
“That so?” he teases, leaning down to trail his lips across my collar bone.
“Mmhmm,” I murmur, my body stirring with interest at the mere touch of his mouth.
Bending his head, he takes a hardened nipple into his mouth. His skilled tongue swirls around the peak, then he gently sucks on it before flashing me a sinful little smile. “Like this?”
“Just like that,” I say, my eyes drifting closed. My hand comes up to caress his back, pulling him closer as he heaps attention on my other breast. His tenderness, his affection, it’s like nothing I’ve ever known before. It’s the only thing I ever want to know.
Chapter Twenty Four
It’s just after 2am when I creep through the front door tonight. The lights in the house are off, and I’m just about to go upstairs, but my attention is snagged by the open study door. There is a flickering light coming from inside.
I switch paths, frowning slightly as I approach the door. Mateo’s usually in bed by now. I know Vince and Mia officially moved out today though, and I guess I know before I get there that’s probably why he’s still awake.
He’s not at his desk. The fireplace is lit, a rare occurrence, and he’s pulled a wing chair up in front of it. The alcohol cart is wheeled up next to the chair so he doesn’t have to move, and as I step inside I see him sitting there alone, drinking and watching the fire.
I clear my throat to let him know I’m approaching, but he doesn’t even glance up as I come to stand beside the chair.
“What are you doing up?
He shrugs, his head propped against the side of the chair like he’s too tired to hold it up without the support.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask.
“Slept a little. Realized drinking was a better idea.”
Damn, he’s almost slurring. He might actually be drunk. Mateo rarely gets drunk. He drinks plenty, but not to the point of intoxication.
“How long have you been drinking?” I ask gently, glancing at the glass. I sort of feel like I should take it. It’s tipped halfway over in his lap; it would spill, but he’s finished most of it.
He sort of grins at me, and that’s how I know he’s drunk. “A while.”
“Was someone at least drinking with you when you started?”
He shakes his head, suddenly remembering the alcohol and bringing it to his lips. “Who would be drinking with me? My only friend hates me.”
“Adrian doesn’t hate you,” I say mildly. Now that Mateo isn’t in his way with Elise, I think Adrian will come around.
Mateo shrugs. “He’s leaving anyway. Doesn’t matter. Everyone leaves.”
I can’t help flinching. I’m glad he’s looking at the fire and not me. “You mean Mia?”
He takes another sip. I don’t know how long he’s been at it and I’m worried he’s going to get alcohol poisoning. I really need to get that glass away from him.
“It’s okay to feel a little lonely,” I tell him. I don’t really know how to talk about whatever he did with/to her, but I’ll take a swing at it.
His gaze moves to mine suddenly. “I had a dream about her. Can you believe that shit? My brain is a bastard.”
A little stab gets me right in the heart. “You dreamed about Mia?”
He almost nods, but then he catches himself, like he can take back having admitted that if he doesn’t. I think he’s done talking, but I still linger. I’m dead tired, but so is he, and if he’s sad I don’t want to ditch him here by himself.
So I just stand here watching him watch the fire.
A few minutes pass in silence, then out of nowhere he says, “She always let me hold her. Even when I was being a bastard, she let me hold her. And by morning, she would end up curled against me with her arm thrown around my waist like she wanted to be there. Each morning—even the first time. It was like she couldn’t help it. She didn’t mean to, she was asleep, but she just… she ended up there. The first morning she was embarrassed when she woke up and realized she’d accidentally given me affection. She was afraid I’d taunt her for it. She was always afraid I’d taunt her for things she didn’t mean to do. I should’ve. Thought about it. But I just couldn’t. I enjoyed it too much to make her feel bad about it.”