Chapter 44
forty-four
Nessa
Inhaling a steadying breath, I stare up the front steps of The Featherweight.
Beside me, Pru winks and presses a coin into my hand. “An agate worry stone so that you can be confident in speaking your truth.”
“Thanks,” I mumble as I turn the smooth stone in my hand.
During that moment, Satan stomps his way down the stairs, screaming about using every lawyer at his disposal. His face has turned an angry shade of maroon, his words venomous.
I hope this is the last I see of him. If it isn’t, I’m ready to handle it the right way next time.
“Perfect timing, thank you. Pru, Gabe. Do you have the paperwork and notary kit to finish the transfers for our family and the contract between Mateo and Glenn?” Gran asks.
My dad and Pru unpack supplies as Stef slips her arm through mine and leads me to the bar. Lily waits on a stool, and Delia stands behind the counter with a towel slung casually over her shoulder.
“What else have you bitches planned?” The words may be harsh, but the venom is gone. Instead, I sound childish. “You planted those letters,” I huff. “I know you did.”
“Matty organized it,” Lee says as he pulls his wife close. “Did it work?”
With an eye roll, I dip my chin.
The four of them hiss a quiet cheer.
“Are you going to tell him?” Lily asks, leaning in, casting an eye-crinkling smile my way.
With a nod, I swallow thickly, my throat dry and scratchy.
As if she’s conjured it, Delia holds out a glass of water.
Maybe we are witches , I laugh to myself.
“It won’t be easy, and it won’t change overnight, but I have to take better care of myself. I’m going to look for a new job. This one is too hard on my heart,” I admit, feeling a mix of defeat and possibility.
“I think you should take a look at the final approved proposal,” Stef says, her lips tipping up in a secretive smile.
With a deep inhale, I rush into the room.
Dad is packing up the signed and notarized papers. Mateo has his back to me, chatting reverently about the town with Liam and Gran.
The papers on the table are his revised proposal. Blueprints for a community center with health and mental health services, as well as a pool. There’s also a page with a recommendation for a person to lead the facility.
I blink, my vision blurred and unwilling to trust my eyes: Dr. Nessa Rabin, PsyD, Executive Director. I’m shaken from my stupor when the girls shove me forward.
“I just wish Nessa could see this,” Mateo says, oblivious to my presence. “I think she’d make an amazing executive director for a community center. She inspired a lot of the ideas on the list of services we hope to provide.”
“I’m here,” I rasp out.
Mateo turns slowly, and I rush forward and meet him in the middle. He runs his hands through his hair, going for cool, though anxiety rolls off him in waves.
I try to apologize, getting out only, “I’m sorry. I?—”
He pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. “No, I’m sorry. I really believed I had made my intentions clear to you. When that police officer said those things.” He shakes his head. Our eyes meet, mine blurry and his filling with so much watery emotion.
“Then Delia said you went to your sister’s, and I wanted to give you space. It has been killing me, but Ness, I’m not going anywhere. I am exactly right for you.”
I bite my lower lip, trying to suppress a laugh. “Did you just quote Jacob?”
He gives me that big, goofy, grin. The charming one I used to think he wore to deflect. This time, it’s accompanied by a little flicker of fear in his eyes. “Sure did, Ivy,” he whispers. “I’m nothing without you. I need you to cling to me and grow with me.”
A breath shudders out of me and tears crest my lashes. Fuck, I hate crying. Before that fact can set in, his thumb is there, wiping away the moisture. He studies me, his irises, the color of melting chocolate, swim with emotion.
“I love you, and your poison, Ivy. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here to tease you, to support you, all of it, for as long as you’ll let me.”
With that, he claims my lips, and the rest of the room falls away. Our kiss starts soft and sweet, but when his tongue parts my lips, it grows fervent, our mouths dancing together making up for the weeks we’ve been apart.
Stef shouts, “Get a room you two,” startling us.
Taking me by the hand, Mateo leads me out. As we exit, Lee asks, “Should we send River to our house to make this moment really full circle?”
Back at Mateo’s place, we lock the front door behind us, then divest ourselves of our coats and shoes.
“They won’t show up. Don’t worry.” I smooth a hand down his chest, laughing at the idea of River showing up to interrupt this moment. With a hand beneath his shirt, I scratch along his chest, pressing the material upward.
He yanks it over his head, then his lips are on mine again, his hands on my arms, neck, and shoulders. His fingers thread into my hair and force my face up.
With a low growl, he says, “I love you.”
My heart flips, and my legs wobble, but before I can respond, he goes on.
“I told you that before. Remember when I said, mahal kita?” He backs me over to the couch, leaving a trail of my clothes behind until I’m in nothing but a simple pair of black underwear.
“Is that so? Mahal kita,” I repeat. Though the words sound right coming from him, they sound funny from me.
I undo his belt in a swift motion, my mouth watering at the impressive bulge pressing against the zipper. As I cup him through his pants, he eases me back so I’m sitting on the couch.
Kneeling before me, he holds one breast, massaging above the heart that beats wildly for him.
Deft fingers trace my nipples, bringing the rosy flesh to peaks, and he captures my lips for another kiss.
Quick and pressurized, he trails his mouth along my jaw to the pulse point behind my ear.
He takes his time moving down my neck and across the top of my collar bones before hovering above my chest.
I’m growing impatient, but before I can beg him for more, his mouth is on my breast, his teeth grazing over the beady point. He pulls ever so slightly and peers up at me. When I shudder in ecstasy, he does it again, this time harder.
A moan escapes me as he continues nipping, then laving over the bite to reduce the sting. He cups that breast gently, massaging as he turns his mouth to the other side.
The heat between us builds and settles heavily between my legs. I press my thighs together, desperately seeking friction. When Mateo sees this, he presses my knees apart, wrapping them around his torso and causing the ache to intensify.
Kissing his way back up my body, he whispers, “Do you still want to call the shots, or can I see how close I can bring you without touching that tight little cunt?”
Lost in a haze of lust, all I can do is nod.
He returns to my breasts, savoring the exploration, moving from feather light touches and nuzzled kisses to harsh plucks and teeth grazing, then back again.
On one particularly strong press of his hands on my chest, a realization hits like a flash of lightning.
When Jim said that cats believe the dominant one is the active one, while rabbits believe dominance is in being cared for, he could have been talking about us.
The dominant one is the one who thinks they’re in charge.
I’ve insisted on calling the shots, on holding Mateo at arm’s length because love meant inevitable pain.
Yet the most punishing touches cause my core to clench exquisitely.
The muscles there pulse and flutter around nothing, seeking resistance.
“More,” I whine. Fuck, I’ve never been so turned on.
In response to that one-word command, Mateo swipes his hand across my panties and eyes me.
“Oh, gorgeous girl, you’re drenched for me.
Let me help you,” he says before removing the fabric.
He slides the panties into his back pocket with a mischievous grin and plunges two fingers into my core.
The slick sounds of my arousal coating his fingers grows as he increases the pressure, curling the digits toward that spot inside me he knows will make me explode.
The throb intensifies, and my muscles pull tighter still.
As the inferno between us reaches new heights, he lowers his face to my core and nips at my clit.
With the same mix of nips and lick he used on my nipples, he punishes and soothes.
Suddenly, a warm, wet heat washes over me, soaking my thighs, Mateo’s hand, and the couch.
“That was fucking sexy.” He holds his fingers to my mouth. “Taste how sweet you are.”
As I lick along his long, smooth fingers, another gush of liquid coats my thighs and the cushion beneath me.
“Did I just… do we need to worry about… did I squirt on your sister’s couch?” I cringe. Shit. This is one of Stef’s favorite possessions.
“I’ll buy a new one. I don’t fucking care.” He stands and shucks his pants, his long, thick cock springing free.
I sit forward and place kisses to the dark hair that coats golden skin.
“I know you did this once, but Nessa, you do not have to.” His tone is hushed, full of care and concern.
That alone washes away any apprehension. I take in every defined muscle, the strength of his arms, the swell of his chest, and the cut of his abdomen. As I assess every inch of him, my hands slowly trace along his thighs getting closer and closer to his stiff cock.
“Condom?” I ask, cupping his balls and massaging them.
“Wallet,” he says with an exhale, his erection twitching.
“Sit,” I command him, then crawl along the floor to retrieve the foil from his pants.
His eyes rove over me as I pass the packet to him. I’m naked and on all fours at his feet, yet I feel incredibly powerful.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he says, sheathing himself. “Please get up here.”
With a wicked smile, I crawl up his body. I drag my nails along his skin, leaving light marks and a trail of goose bumps in my wake.
When I’m standing, he grasps my hips and pulls me closer. “Take, gorgeous, please. I love letting you take control, ride me, scratch me. I’m yours,” he begs.
I’m not sure how it is possible for me to be more turned on, but I am.
Sinking into his lap, I line his head up with my entrance.
Inch by inch, I lower myself, watching where our bodies connect.
I stretch around him, enveloping him in my pussy, and as I rock my hips, working him deeper, he tightens his hold.
With an inhale, I rise up on my knees, then, as I blow the breath out, I slam down against him.
His head falls back with pleasure, a gasp escaping his lungs.
Back arched, I set a pace that is fervent and punishing for us both.
All the while, he holds me. I trace paths from behind his neck along the tops of his shoulders and back, then clutch his arms, accidentally pressing my nails in too deep.
He releases a guttural “fuck” and I let go on instinct, but he growls and tells me to do it again. So I grasp his biceps and sink deeper onto his shaft, my nails piercing his skin.
His length pulses inside me, and he grits his teeth. “I’m going to?—”
A sense of power overtakes me, bringing with it a heady desire. He traces along my hip and thigh, then presses the pad of his thumb against my clit. The surge of electricity between us becomes too powerful.
“Mateo,” I cry out.
“Are you going to come again, gorgeous?” he rasps.
My muscles have tensed, and from the feel of his grip on my hip, so have his. We’re breathy, sighs and moans, lost in each other until we’re shuddering and clinging to one another.
With his sweat slick brow against my forehead, he presses his lips to mine, sealing an unspoken promise to stick to the new path forward we’ve found.