Entrapment (Morelli Family 7.5)

No, I need to keep it clean. Tonight and tomorrow as long as I’m around her, I have to be an asshole. As soon as she gets home from school Monday, that can end. I’ll bring her up to this bedroom, lay her down on my bed, and bury my face between her legs. I’ll let her know she’s irrevocably mine; I’ll mend the rift I’m creating. I can’t wait for Monday.

Thankfully, Saturday is nearly gone.

One day.

I climb on the bed and yank her blankets down, revealing that beautiful body of hers. Tonight she’s basked in moonlight, twisting in my direction, her perfect breasts grabbing my attention. I dip my head to kiss them and Mia chuckles warmly, her fingers sliding into my hair.

Then she goes silent. I might think she’s just caught up, but she’s not making any noises. Mia has slowly started responding to me, not stifling them and trying to keep quiet; she’s past that.

Her voice is a little uncertain as she says, “Where… Um, you certainly have a…” She doesn’t know what to say, so she places a hand on my shoulder and pushes. “Mateo, wait.”

“I don’t like waiting,” I tell her, but I pull back anyway. I look down at her. The troubled look on her face is decidedly unpleasant.

She swallows, looks at my chest with a frown, then opens with the least offensive observation she can make. “You seem to have had a quite a bit to drink tonight.”

Dread rolls over me, but I keep it off my face. “I have. Went out with my brother.”

With forced lightness, she raises her eyebrows. “Where, to a perfume counter?”

I play dumb. “A perfume counter?”

I lean in to kiss her neck, but she turns her head to block me. I’m sort of glad. I don’t want to kiss her neck during this bullshit. She likes that too much to dirty it up.

“You smell strongly of…” She stops again, just short of leveling an accusation. I don’t think it’s because she’s afraid to rip a man’s head off for cheating; I think it’s more because I don’t actually belong to her, so even though it will make her hate me, it’s not like I can’t fuck someone else. I have no desire to, but this isn’t a relationship we’re in. Hopefully it will be after Monday—if not Monday, by the end of the week it will be—but right now, I’m free.

It just doesn’t feel that way. Not to mention, I just told her I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else and reassured her. Now I’m going to blow it all to hell.

I don’t know the stripper’s name, but I decide to give her one. “Of Jessica?” I ask, my lips curving up slightly, like I find this amusing. “Yes, she wears a bit too much perfume, doesn’t she?”

Hurt and confusion cloud over her normally clear blue eyes. I decide it’s the perfect time to let her see the lipstick on my collar, so I bend my head toward my hand and scratch my eyebrow.

Mia’s gaze locks on my neck and her whole body goes rigid. “Is that…?” Her voice gives out on her. It stings more than I expect it to. I look at her face, but now it looks like she’s struggling to even breathe properly. My weight on top of her, normally tolerable, seems to be crushing her.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, smoothly.

Drawing in a shaky breath, staring at my collar, undoubtedly assaulted by a cloud of cheap perfume, Mia suddenly brings her hands up and shoves against my chest. “Get off me.”

I don’t, so she shoves harder. It’s hard to look at her right now, at the betrayal on her face, at the pain in her eyes—I should have expected pain. I was braced for anger. I didn’t expect her to look this desperate though, to shove this hard.

“I said, get off me. Get the fuck off me.” When I still don’t, she hits me in the chest, as hard as she can. She tries to bring her legs into the mix, attempting to wedge her knees between us so she can push me off.

“Now, now, calm down,” I tell her.

“Get the fuck off me. Please.” Her plea comes out desperately angry, like it’s the last word she wants to give me, but she’s desperate enough to bring it out on this occasion.

“You don’t have to feel threatened,” I assure her, squeezing her right breast. “Your pussy is still my favorite.”

Fury flashes through her eyes and she shoves me again, shoves me in the chest as hard as she can. Still, she can’t get me off her. “I hate you,” she spits, as mean as she can manage.

“That’s all right,” I reply, easily.

“You did this to hurt me, didn’t you? This is because you told me so much. Now you have to push me away.”