“You’re not the only doctor in the room, my love,” he says, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. “I’ve got five years of criminal psychology studies under my belt. I’ve been watching that man for ten years. I know what we’re dealing with. And I know how to handle him. Trust me, okay?”
I stare for a second, then nod slowly. “Just…take care. Promise me…”
“Do you think I’m going to do anything that might tear us apart?” he says.
“I…” I feel my voice choke up. The things he’s saying are leaving me breathless. He’s saying all the right things. But does he mean them? Is this all part of our fake wedding game? And yet those chocolate eyes shine with such sincerity. I feel warmth flood my heart.
“I’m here for the long-haul, Andy,” he says firmly. “And I’m going to take care of you…every step of the way.”
“Mateo, you don’t have to—”
His lips cut my words short, and I groan into his mouth. When he raises his head, my chest is heaving.
“Quit fighting it, beautiful.” He smiles. “Like it or not, you got me.”
The smile I manage is watery. I reach up and cup his cheek. There’s a song playing in the background and the words filter through somehow…
I want to spend my lifetime loving you.
And I do. I desperately do – I’m still stuck at Mateo’s freaking “I love you.” Probably always will be.
“I don’t deserve you,” I say softly. And I fight down emotion as I say it. Because it’s true. And it’s the reason I know I can’t let this charade go on forever.
He steps back and reaches his hand out to me, looking toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
“But it’s our engagement party,” I object.
“Oh, sweetie, I think you’ve earned a Get Out of Jail Free card, don’t you?” Nikki intrudes. “Dario and I will take it from here. I think you’ve got the message across to the people who need to know about the wedding.”
She’s right. Anyhow, it’s not like we’re an actual couple or anything. Are we? This so-called engagement…our upcoming marriage…it’s all a sham.
***
The drive home is silent, along with the trip in the elevator to the apartment. It’s my fault. I don’t know what to say.
Just say, “I love you.”
I still can’t. And as the lift doors open, I don’t get a chance.
“Mateo!” I shriek as he sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the front door.
“Alone at last…” He swipes the access card and kicks the door open, still clutching me to his chest. My knees almost buckle as he sets me down. “How do I get into this fucking thing?” he mutters, fumbling with the tiny hook that holds the zipper of my dress in place between my shoulder blades. I giggle as he spins me round, bending me forward over the table in the hallway.
“Don’t…don’t rip it,” I manage to gasp out as he tugs insistently at the delicate fabric. His free hand has pulled the ankle-length skirt up my legs, exposing my thighs. “Oh! Oh, God!” His fingers reach the lace of my panties, pulling them aside as he continues to fumble with the zipper.
“Christ!” he mutters. “How does this damn dress make you look so goddamn fuckable while making you so hard to fuck?” There’s an urgency to his movements as he gives up on the zipper and begins rolling the fabric down my chest. The strapless bodice offers little resistance and suddenly I feel cool air on my nipples as he frees my breasts.
“Oh fuck,” I grit out as he pinches one of the puckered nubs while his fingers go to work between my slick thighs. My panties may as well not even be there for all the cover they provide. A quick yank is all it takes to tear the fine lace away. My beautiful evening dress is now bunched around my waist, my tits and pussy left bare as he flips me on my back on the hall table.
“I’m going to feast on you,” he says, shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket, his eyes fixing on the vee of my thighs. When he lowers himself between my knees and drops his face to my pussy, my back arches.
“Oh, Jesus!” I choke out. I curl my fingers into his hair and pull his face against me as his tongue slides between my lips. By now, he knows my body as well as I do, and it’s barely a minute before I feel the tingle from my toes that I know will mark the start of an orgasm. When he thrusts a finger into me and sucks down on my clit, my body goes taut and my breath comes in hoarse pants.
“Oh fuck…oh…fuck!” I cross my ankles behind his head, feeling him grip my thighs as I push against him, coming hard enough to make my eyes water. I’ve barely had a moment to come down from the pleasure high before he’s standing between my thighs. I’m sure my eyes are glazed as I watch him pull his tie free and unbutton his shirt. I reach forward, fingers fumbling blindly for the fly of his trousers. Thankfully, he drops a hand to flick the top button loose. I’m a little afraid I might start drooling when I see the thick shaft of his cock spring free.
“Hold on,” he says through gritted teeth as he rubs the thick head along my splayed pussy lips. “I’m going to fuck till you beg me to stop.”
I choke out a laugh, reaching both arms out to my sides and curling my fingers over the edge of the table to hold myself steady.
