10. Valeria
10
Valeria
The sunlight is damning, a daily curse, but a particular pain in my ass today. The way it slips through the curtains and hits my eyes, I’m forced to wake up.
I don’t want to move. Don’t want to open my eyes, either. If I do, then I’m forced to think about what happened last night and the predicament I’m currently in.
I’m curled against his body, and I can feel the slow rise of his chest against my cheek.
Surprise, surprise. The one time he lets me sleep in his bed, everything between us has come crashing down. How in the world am I supposed to hate him now without remembering how good his fingers felt against my clit?
As much as I want to write this all down as a heated fantasy, I know I have to unwind myself and make some distance. First things first, our limbs need untangling.
Cracking my eyes open, I blink away the sleep and look down at my thigh tucked between his. With just briefs on, his muscled thighs look far more impressive compared to my own. It’s not just his legs that have my attention.
Those briefs of his? Barely containing the curve of a bulge that makes my skin tingle and grow hot all at once. Unable to tell if he’s aroused or not, I tell myself not to care. To crush down any curiosities.
I’ve never been really good at listening to the warning bells that ring in my head. I’ve danced with danger enough times that the thought of doing something I shouldn’t excites me.
Tommy is completely off limits, and that’s why I can’t help myself. We crossed the line back with that first kiss, and ever since, it’s been foggy. I can’t even tell if I want to find my way back to the side that’s safest.
If I’m a lost cause who can’t control myself, then I might as well gain a little control in another way.
Tommy’s chest flinches beneath my fingertips as I slowly drag my fingers down the dips and curves of his chest. There are scars along the path, each catching on my nails. Just when I see the band of his briefs, his entire front rumbles with a sound I can only describe as a growl.
Lifting my chin, I see his eyes are now cracked open. He’s watching me with furrowed brows, his jaw locked shut.
Does he always look angry?
Sinking two fingers into the band, I keep my eyes on his as I pull it down enough to feel his cock brush my skin as it pops up for freedom.
Definitely aroused.
“You’re asking for trouble, Valeria.” Sleep laces his words, but the threat rings true. He doesn’t have to spell out what can happen if I play too close with fire, but my pussy tingles like it already knows.
Moving to sit up, I smile at his words. As my fingers wrap about his cock, I watch as his jaw clenches. “I’ve always done that, Tommy. Don’t act surprised. Doesn’t matter, I’m going to end up in the same place no matter what. Might as well enjoy myself a little before then.”
Elijah will torture me and slit my throat just like Ted if he gets his hands on me. Tommy will play with my mind until he’s broken me into pieces. Both endings will lead me to a cold grave six feet under.
Tommy seems to disagree, his hand finding my wrist in an instant. He’s pulling my hand away, hardly giving me time to memorize every inch of his cock before he’s abandoning me on the bed.
“Wait, where are you going?” Surprised by a flash of something I don’t recognize in his glare, he shakes his head dismissively. Frustration fills me as I watch him slip into the bathroom, shutting the door with more force than necessary. “This means as much as last night did!”
Of course it does. He only touched me for his own gain. Getting his own enjoyment from making me bend at his will, I just wanted a little myself.
From the roaring rush of the shower, I can tell he doesn’t want to argue about it.
Huffing under my breath, I push my hair out of my face before looking at the hand that had touched him.
I can’t tell him that I wanted to touch him. That I wanted him to feel good. That would take me realizing that I’ve fallen right into his trap. He’d mock me for it, and then I’ll be forced to realize my heart is my weakness.
Damn it.
With a sigh, I figure there’s no point in dragging this on any longer. The only thing to do is take on another day.
* * *
Tommy doesn’t bring up what happened, or express any reasons why he got angry. He’s got a talent at brewing all these thoughts in his head, but never letting any slip out.
I guess that means no more kisses or light petting anymore. Probably better that way. There are more important things to deal with. Issues to finally face.
It’s already been almost a week and a half since my capture. I might be able to avoid Santino whenever I can, but it’s not fair for me to talk to Urzo so casually when there is still someone I haven’t even run into.
My hands are feeling more clammy than I’d like, and I hate how nervous I feel as I pace in front of the door hiding my mother’s personal library. Every time we’ve drifted by to pass the time, a weight has grown in my stomach as I tell myself the same thing.
Now’s the time to face her .
As soon as the words enter my mind, I run away like a coward. It’s terrible.
This time will be different.
“Listen, I get that you want to follow Santino’s orders like they’re law, but for just once, can you cut me a little slack?” Looking behind me, I find Tommy resting against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Hard to start panicking about my family issues when I’m taking in the way his shirt is squeezing his biceps.
Today, he’s wearing jeans . My mind is still a mess, struggling to separate what is real and what isn’t. I can’t be thinking about how badly I want his hands on me when I go face my mother.
“We’re on the second floor, and I don’t think I’ll make it down this time. I’m not as agile as I once was,” I try to joke, but he doesn’t laugh. Can’t even try to crack a smile. When I turn toward him and close the space between us, I take in the curve of his lips. “I’d like to talk to her alone, if possible. I think I’ve let you see more than enough of my emotional side as it is.”
Expecting him to immediately say no, to shut me down before I can even try to persuade him to use the heart in his chest and see where I’m coming from, his eyes flick away to look at the door. Moving to scratch the back of his neck, he cracks it like he’s as uncomfortable as I am.
“Twenty minutes. Don’t make me regret it.”
My lips part in surprise, and it takes a few seconds for his words to catch up to my mind. Before I can stop the smile that forms on my lips, I’m reaching out to grab his free hand. Squeezing his three fingers, my heart lurches in my throat. “Thank you.”
Not just for giving me space, but for being willing to put even a sprinkle of trust in me again. It shouldn’t mean anything to me, but after our rough first meeting after all of these years, this feels like a large step of progress.
Catching my actions, I pull away and turn away. The tingles that are bouncing around in my stomach are more preferred over the heavy rock that normally sits in there.
I can do this.
Wiping my clammy palms against my pants, my fingers have a small tremble to them as I grip the handle. Taking in a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and push open the door before I can chicken out.
The smell of worn pages hits me at first, thanks to the hundreds of books she has lined up on the shelves. Most of them are romance. My father wasn’t much of a reader, but he’d flipped through a few books on sailing and some on cars whenever he wanted to spend some time with me.
When I was a kid, my parents claimed the leather couch like it was their own island. Every other room in this home didn’t exist when they were tucked away in here. He’d watch her read, and at the time, I didn’t understand why he’d do something so boring. Older and wiser now, the answer is simple. Love.
Now, when I look at the leather couch, half of it is empty. My mother sits by her lonesome, flipping through another one of her books, one I’m sure she’s already read once or twice before. She lifts her gaze, and just like that, we’re left staring at each other.
Is she feeling as much of a statue as I am? She’s never been the type to let her nerves get to her.
She’s a smart woman. I’m sure Santino has filled her in on the little details. If he knows what I told Tommy, then I’m sure she knows that information as well.
I’m not her sweet, innocent daughter anymore. In her eyes, I’m ruined.
When my mother closes her book after tucking a slip of paper inside to mark her place, one of her hands settles on the cover while the other pats the seat next to her.
Her eyes are aged, supported by new lines and wrinkles. There isn’t an ounce of disgust behind them. Instead, the last thing I expected to see is happiness. Maybe a little longing, too, and it makes my chest ache.
My legs don’t want to move, and my knees threaten to shake when I try to take a single step.
Don’t run away.
If I do, I’m sure Tommy will toss me right back inside out of pure frustration.
Walking toward her, I take a seat. Sinking into the leather, I have to force my body to relax. Hands finding my knees, I fight the urge to let one of them bounce.
“I should have come sooner,” I start as my brows pinch together. Before I can mutter an apology, her worn hand finds mine. One little squeeze is all it takes to make my eyes water. She’s as warm as I remember.
“I wanted to give you your space,” she explains softly, “assuming your brothers have already taken up plenty of your time. I’m sure coming back must’ve been hard. How are you adjusting?” As her thumb brushes the back of my hand soothingly, I feel my walls crumbling.
She’d make everything easier if she held some sort of grudge.
Forcing a laugh, I try to think of an appropriate answer. “As best as I can, I guess.”
I don’t dare tell her about what’s been happening between me and Tommy. That’s a line far too thick to cross to even consider.
The thought of talking to her about the mess I’ve gotten myself into makes me bite the inside of my cheek.
“You’re eating, aren’t you?” Her free hand touches my cheek ever so lightly. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”
“It’s been rough, I won’t lie. But the food here seems better than I remember.” Forcing a laugh, we catch up as best as we can by trailing lighter topics. She doesn’t poke and prod like Santino or Tommy, demanding to know what was the falling domino that led me here.
She fusses about my health and habits like a mother would.
With the past clawing at me, reminding me of what important things I missed out on, I try to meet her gaze and fail horribly. Chewing on my lip, I blink a few times and let out a shaky breath.
“About Dad–” My words catch in my throat, “I’m sorry I wasn’t around. I should’ve come for the funeral, but I knew if I tried to reappear, I’d be dragged right back in. With my life the way it was at the time, I didn’t want to lose even more than I already had.”
Terrible, greedy excuses. The weight of my reasoning has clawed at me since I found out about his passing.
Her eyes pinch shut, and I can see the pain, the longing. Shaking her head, she squeezes my hand like she needs it, too. “He went peacefully. We buried him on this gorgeous hillside, one that faces the ocean. You know how much he loved the open waters. I can take you there sometime, and you can make your amends,” she murmurs, promising me something I don’t deserve.
I hate getting emotional. Once tears start falling, they’re hard to stop. If I were talking to anyone else here, I could push a strong face and keep myself collected.
My mother is the definition of warmth and gentleness beneath the childish facade I painted for her to be.
I tried blaming her too many times for why I felt trapped, and now look at me, caving the moment she sends kindness in my direction. Kindness I don’t deserve.
Thanks to her, the floodgates open up. They don’t close until nothing is left. By then, my eyes sting, and my throat feels sore from choking back sobs. She’s not the type to hold a grudge, it seems.
“Why don’t you hate me?” I finally ask, aching to know. “What I did was unforgivable.”
Her lips curve, and she swipes at her own beading wetness collecting at the corners of her eyes. “I love all my children, Valeria. Just because you left didn’t mean you were no longer mine. Running away from all of this runs in your blood. I was the very same when I was your age. Before I met your father, I wanted to leave, too. He changed everything. Made me want to stay by his side. I had a reason not to leave. At the time, you were still looking for yours.”
She’s told me this story a thousand times. It was always her way of trying to ease me into the topic of arranged marriages. Back then, I dreaded her stories of the past, despite her luck with finding the perfect man arranged for her.
“You’re back home now, that’s what matters. If you choose to leave again, once the mess of your past is behind you, then, as your mother, I’ll make it happen,” she assures me.
“I’m not going anywhere, thanks to Santino,” I scoff with a shake of my head. “He’s stuck Tommy on me until the end of time.”
“A big mistake, if you ask me.” To my confusion, the corners of her eyes wrinkle. “His devotion to you may rival your brother’s.”
I’m sure she’s thinking about the past, back when Tommy had to watch over me to appease my father. She doesn’t understand that he’s only ever done things to repay this family for taking him in. He’s not devoted to anything other than the people who belong here, and I’m outside of that circle.