Chapter 19
chapter nineteen
Natalia
I had always been a bed rotting queen. Mateo woke up before me every single day, Frankie even earlier than him when he still lived in the house. For the last few months I’d faked a morning routine several days out of the week to keep up my bank teller charade with the Durans, when all I wanted to do was stay in the comfort and warmth of my bed sheets until noon. But for the better part of this morning, my in-laws had been away on a boat tour with the neighbors and I was free.
Free to lie in bed and watch reality TV while shoving my face with food I definitely shouldn’t be eating this close to my wedding. It also meant catching up on the film schedule. In the last month we’d lost over a thousand unique subscribers to the page. I was getting emails from clients requesting refunds on bookings we hadn’t had a chance to get to yet, and DMs on our social media profiles asking if we’d broken up in response to Matty’s scarce appearances.
It was hard not to feel resentment about how late he’d been working and how it was negatively affecting the cam business because I’d never had to share my time with him before. One simple hire could give me my partner back. According to Mateo it was much more complicated than that, but that didn’t make the stress any easier.
Even sleeping didn’t come easy. When I did, I'd only reach that first level of unconsciousness, where my brain wouldn't shut off completely and I would have dreams about falling off roller coasters or slipping through quicksand, or trying to punch a murderer in the face and my hand dissolving into Jell-O every time it made contact.
The longer I stayed in bed in the mornings, the longer I could avoid walking out into the living room and having a conversation with someone. It wasn't that I didn't want to bond with Mateo's parents anymore—they’d loosened up significantly since my father's catastrophic failure of a birthday party, probably taking pity on me—but my body didn't physically hold the energy for socialization.
The soles of my feet rubbed back and forth like a grasshopper over the soft cotton sheets in our king-size bed. I reached over blindly searching for Mateo’s body, unsurprised to find him already gone. It was Thursday, the day before we left for Vegas and he was rushing to finish a last-minute installation. He promised that after this he was totally free from any work for our joint bach weekend. I was holding out hope that a long few days away from home was all we needed to rekindle the spark that had been missing between us emotionally and intimately.
Sun spilled in from a crack in the curtains and my phone started vibrating from somewhere underneath my heaps of pillows and blankets. I rooted around until I found it and squinted at the screen, seeing it lit up with the only person in the world I wanted to talk to at that moment.
"Phee!" I sat up, dazed and bedraggled. Ophelia’s perfectly put-together face appeared in a video box on the screen. She was wearing a striped sweater and a lanyard around her neck, and a school smartboard was turned on behind her. She was likely in her classroom waiting for her students to arrive for the day.
"Good morning, sunshine." She cackled. “Sorry to wake you up at ten in the morning.” Her skin was glowing, long brown hair swept up in a bun as her concerned blue gaze studied me.
"I need my beauty sleep."
She hummed. “Mateo might have mentioned something to Frankie about you living in a cave in your bedroom and making little voodoo dolls of your family members. So I figured a wellness check was due before tomorrow.”
"Does my dad have salami-sized nipples yet?"
Ophelia swept a piece of dark hair out of her face and frowned sympathetically. "He might."
“Good,” I huffed. “God, I can't believe I'm getting married in a month." There was no excitement at all in my voice. The process had completely drained me of it. At that point I didn’t care about the details anymore, or the guests. I was counting down the days until it was over and my life could return to something resembling normalcy.
"Tell me what's going on," Ophelia said warmly.
I dropped back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "I think this is a bigger dick than I can suck."
"I think the saying is 'I bit off more than I could chew.’”
"Is it?"
"Yours works just fine."
"I’m trying to do it all," I said. “But I’m shit at balancing everything at once, between the wedding, Mateo’s parents, mine, the cam business… Mateo is trying his hardest to be in two places at once, but it’s not working anymore. It’s almost like my thing isn’t as important as his thing, as stupid as that sounds. I know he had TechOps before me and I had the cam page before him, but we’re supposed to be partners in it.”
“I know you might feel like you're losing control, but on the surface it doesn't look like that. You're so impressive, Nat. Mateo has a lot on his plate, too. You guys are just hitting traffic, but you’ll still get there.”
After the prenup debacle Bella hadn’t pressed it again. Her dropping it was as close to an apology as I’d likely get. My sisters had been staying intentionally neutral on the entire thing, assumingly to not piss off our parents by choosing sides. “I know what my family thinks, but be honest with me, do you think Mateo and I are jumping into things? Are we doing this too fast?"
Phee shook her head. "When you know, you know."
"That's the thing. We do know. Before we decided to get married everything was perfect. Our life was so easy. There weren't families involved with all their opinions and planning. Inviting Anna and David to live here for six months was stupid, and Mateo warned me it was a bad idea for our relationship. I love the Durans, don't get me wrong, but…” I took a deep breath. "It’s been a lot harder on both of us than I expected. Working with them in the house is impossible, and even when they do leave and I get some time to make content, Mateo isn’t here.”
"How's the camming otherwise?"
I rolled out of bed and padded over to the desktop, waking it up with a tap of the keys. "I'm a foley artist now. I've pretty much perfected silently filming sex. Do you know that I dubbed the sound of Mateo's hips slapping against my ass the other day? I added it after the fact with a raw piece of top round beef.”
"Shut the fuck up." Ophelia clapped a hand over her mouth. "People buy that?"
I clicked a folder on the screen and pressed play, and the sharp slap of skin on skin filled the room.
"Wow, that is very natural, surprisingly. You're incredible at what you do, I give you that."
"I spanked the shit out of that thing."
Ophelia blew out a breath and pulled a block of sticky notes and a pen in front of her. “Let's focus on the now," she said. “What can I do to help you from Colorado? Want me to handwrite place cards? I’ll do it. Call the florist? Finalize the setlist? Coordinate with the day-of planner? What do you need so that you and Mateo can go wild and get your work done without a piece of raw beef involved?”
I swallowed and dug my toes into the corner of the throw rug. "That's another thing. We haven't had sex."
Phee tapped the pen on her chin. "You mean sex ?"
"I mean the difference between work and play." I sighed and covered my eyes, embarrassed. "I feel like a caged animal that hasn't been fed, Phee. I'm ovulating, which doesn't help. Because that man walks past me in a T-shirt with the sleeves a little too tight and his hair a little bit sweaty and my kitty is already purring."
"I know exactly what you mean."
"She's not purring, she's mewing."
"Growling."
"Ever since that dinner with my parents he's been gentle Mateo, sweet Mateo. Like he's trying not to set me off. But I want to be manhandled. Okay? I want to turn my dumb little brain off, and spread my legs, and have my hot fucking fiancé rag doll me around the bedroom like a plaything."
"I want that for you, too," Ophelia said. “Hell yeah.”
"I don't want to hold onto the headboard, I want to be chained to it!" I cried.
She shrugged. “Some daddy issues are more extreme than others.”
"I want to be spanked and choked within an inch of my life!"
Her eyes went wide, but supportive. “What kind of books have you been reading?”
My cheeks pinched with a smile and a tickled laugh burst out of me. "This is therapeutic. I can’t wait to hug you tomorrow."
"Speaking of, you have a morning flight and I requested early check-in. A limo service is set to pick you up from the airport in Vegas. It's about a twenty-minute drive to the rental, and if everything is timed correctly, Frankie and I and the Swan boys will be there already. Your sisters fly in mid-afternoon, and I have dinner planned at six, followed by some light ice breaker games to get everyone a bit more acquainted, a poolside toast, and clay face masks before bed. Then a full schedule for Saturday."
"You and your lists." I chuckled. "I'm sure everything will go perfectly with you in charge, Phee. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"You still have to pack," she stressed, tapping around on the screen of her phone. "I'm sure the same can be said for Mateo. Go and take your time getting all your stuff together. I just texted you a checklist."
I scanned the perfectly curated and columned list of items of necessary items to be packed in my suitcase, along with suggested but not imperative belongings—everything from toiletries to electronics and unmentionables. “You know, I'm actually quite good at organization and task handling when it comes to my business."
"But when it comes to your personal life, you're a hot mess." She blew me a kiss. "I'm here to help you destress, remember? I don't want you to have to lift a manicured finger for the rest of the weekend unless it's to bring a margarita to your mouth."
I chewed on my bottom lip as it sprouted into a smile. "Fine." I gave in. The light at the end of the tunnel was dotting into view. Weight was not just lifted from my shoulders, it felt like years had been returned to my life. Vibrance dancing back into the dull, forgotten halls inside me. I was hopeful again, that every hiccup was part of the plan and the only one holding me back from enjoying the wedding was me.
"You know what else could really help you?"
"What?"
Ophelia leaned closer to the screen. "Maybe a little you time," she said quietly. “Without Mateo.”
"Phee," I gasped. The last time I masturbated for the fun of it was so long ago I’d forgotten it. It was usually something I did after solo filming if I worked myself up enough and Matty wasn’t home to finish me off.
"Play a little DJ on the downstairs turntables," she added.
I threw my hand over my eyes. "You’re using my words against me.”
"Take the edge off."
"Okay, I'm leaving this conversation."
"Like I don't know you've done worse in that bedroom!" she added in a hurry.
“Love you!” I doled back, ending the video chat with an amused shake of my head.
Packing was exceedingly more manageable and faster with Ophelia’s list. I even gathered Mateo's things into his suitcase for him to look over when he got home from work. Maybe I was more like his mother than he thought I was. In a good way. In the nurturing, caretaking ways that weren't learned, but natural.
After scanning the bedroom a final time before zipping my suitcase, my gaze caught on the bedside drawer. The drawer I kept several of my and Matty’s favorite toys and lubricants for easy access. The rest of our collection was carefully tucked out of sight in boxes, under the bed, in the closet. I ran my tongue along the backside of my teeth and tapped my fingers on my chin.
It'd been an embarrassingly long while since I had some provocative time to myself. There was nothing left to do before our flight tomorrow, and Mateo was still at work for God knew how long. With his track record lately it could be hours before he finished the installation. Taking a nice, long shower to relax wasn’t the worst idea…
I'd already plucked my favorite thick pink toy out of the nightstand before I was done convincing myself.
The lock on the bathroom door clicked and steaming water spattered into the tub as I stripped in front of the mirror. For someone who spent a lot of time naked, I didn't spend much of it looking at myself. I ran my gentle fingers down my curves, over my breasts, drawing whispers of circles over my nipples. They puckered and darkened, and a lazy smile graced my mouth.
I kept going, sliding my fingers down to the apex of my thighs, dipping between them, tracing and circling until my breaths came faster. The toy was nothing fancy, a very standard dildo. Not like the rest of the things in our long-winded collection. There were no bells and whistles; it didn't even vibrate. But it was the pressure I needed. The familiarity, the size, the perfect escape.
All my muscles relaxed in my shoulders and down my back as I stepped into the balmy stream of water with it. Washing my hair, shaving and exfoliating with the promise of that penetrative orgasm to keep me on task. Then I started from the top again. I ran the toy over my lips, popping it into my mouth briefly, then slicked it over each of my nipples and down between my legs. A small tingle livened me as I slid the head over my clit. I widened my legs, propping my foot in the corner of the bathtub. The stream of water hit me perfectly, warm and forceful, and my head tilted back, a sigh leaving my mouth like a button popping off a pair of tight jeans.
My mind slipped to Mateo, his hands all over me, his cock teasing my core. That phenomenal thing he did with the curl of his tongue that somehow reached all the way inside of me when he went down on me. The skin on my shoulders bristled like static, the cool air kissing the parts of my body that the hot water couldn’t reach as I slid the toy inside of me, meeting resistance before relaxing and welcoming it deep and full.
My eyes drooped closed and my chest hummed with satisfaction as I pulled it out and thrust it back all the way, twice, three times. A coil tightened in my lower belly and my knees weakened. The tiles on the wall were sweating as I reached out to steady myself, working the toy in short frantic motions to reach the peak building.
Concentrate. Concentrate.
My mind had snapped into nothing. I willed it back to muscles, and that V-cut of Mateo's tight waist, tangled hands in my hair, one around my neck. I held my breath.
That's it.
Veiny, sinewed forearms, peaks of pectoral muscle, a long canvas of a neck begging to be bit. Fingers unworking a belt buckle, that masculine way he pulled off his T-shirt over the back of his head. When that T-shirt made it all the way into the hamper and didn't die on the floor on its way.
Oh…oh god. My insides clenched around the toy.
The thought of him putting down a towel over the sink before he shaved and changing the roll of toilet paper instead of balancing a new one on top of the old had me groaning out loud. My chest heaved in short bursts and a wave of pleasure ignited at my core.
"Yes, more," I squeaked out.
More? I was on the precipice. I canted my hips to meet the shower stream and picked up the pace of my hand, drilling the toy inside of me harder.
What if he—my eyes rolled back at the glimmer of the thought—what if he listened to the videos on his phone at a lower volume?
"Fuck." My voice cracked. The fog in the bathroom made me feel like I was floating on a cloud, and my head was swimming in it. My pulse echoed inside my ears so loud I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my own breathing returning to a regular tempo. I couldn't hear the door to my bedroom opening, or the rummaging around. I couldn't hear the first knock on the locked bathroom door or the second. But that third sounded like a battering ram in an FBI raid at four in the morning.
I yelped, sliding the toy from inside me, shelving it on the hanging caddy with shaking hands. "In the shower!" I shouted. My heartbeat reached a higher metronome than it had at my near climax. "Mateo?"
"It's Anna," a soft voice answered. “We’re back!”
"Can I…do you need something?" I panicked, squeezing my fists together.
"I'm going to run the laundry. Do you need anything cleaned before your trip tomorrow? I can grab some of this stuff off the floor."
Since my father’s birthday Anna had been noticeably more present in helping around the house with small tasks like dishes and laundry—the things she was privately on my case about before then. Maybe she felt sorry for me in a way that only seeing my family dynamic would bring out, and normally I would be more perceptive to it, but I was currently teetering on the edge of an orgasm and chatting through the bathroom door.
"No, no, no. No worries." I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. "I'll grab it."
"You're sure? I can take it off your plate."
I couldn't think of anything worse than my mother-in-law washing my thongs, until I remembered just how R-rated the rest of our bedroom was if you went looking hard enough. Did I leave that bedside drawer open? The one with the cuffs, cock rings, nipple clamps, and bullet vibrator?
God forbid she swung the closet open and saw the hidden wall of sticky notes and the content calendar and started asking unanswerable questions. I whipped the shower curtain back in a rush, hopping soaking wet out of the tub and onto the bathmat, hardly drying myself before wrapping my naked body in a very short threadbare towel and opening the door.
"I'm positive." I laughed nervously. Anna was looking over Mateo’s open suitcase skeptically. "He’s all packed, did it myself."
"He never packs enough?—"
"T-shirts, yeah. With Vegas weather in May, he's bound to sweat right through them."
"Exactly." She nodded. "Oh and also…"
"Advil, for inflammation. He tries to power through a hangover, but it's not the headaches that get him, it's the muscle pain."
Anna studied my face and a smile stretched across hers. "Right. Okie doke. If you need anything…"
"I know where to find you." I gave her an awkward thumbs-up and almost lost my towel.
She turned back the way she came, closing the door behind her, and I fell onto the bed with a deep, exhausted sigh. Not even the universe wanted me to get my rocks off.
Crisis averted though, I thought. For now.