Chapter 20
chapter twenty
Natalia
It was early afternoon and stifling hot when we arrived in Vegas. The wheels of our suitcases rumbled against the pavement in front of our two-level, white stone villa. It was absolutely gorgeous, fenced in by high walls, and bracketed by a deep backyard where I could hear the pool water sloshing. We ambled up the pebbled driveway and let ourselves in the large wooden door leading to the side of the house. A massive in-ground pool lay in front of us alongside an outdoor bar dotted with stools, high-potted pampas grass plants decorating either end, and faux rocks that doubled as speakers stuffed into the backyard landscaping.
“Wow,” I breathed out, looking around. I stretched my stiff legs from the flight and the ride from the airport, more than ready to get out of my frumpy airplane clothes and into a bathing suit. Mateo wrapped an arm around my waist and slipped his hand into the back pocket of my jean shorts, giving my butt a short squeeze. I was determined to enjoy myself this weekend, no matter what. Part of that determination included having my way with my soon-to-be husband. I was going to suck the stress out of him if that was what it took. It had been nearly five months since we made a promise to each other to prioritize our relationship as a caveat to all the ensuing chaos. Three rules: safe word, keeping the spark alive, and hiding our sex work. Somehow the spark was left behind and needed to be reignited.
“You’re here!” The back door of the house opened and Ophelia popped her head outside with a giddy little laugh, and my heart instantly blossomed like a flower in spring. I dropped my bags where I stood and ran to hug her, hopping up and down like we were two lovers separated by war.
Mateo’s burly laugh echoed behind us and he pulled Ophelia into a bear hug of his own when we parted. “This place is impressive, O. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this.”
“You only get married once.” She beamed, tickled by the praise. “There’s a hot tub around the side there, ping pong tables, an outdoor shower, and the mini fridge is completely stocked behind the bar.”
“I’m in heaven,” I said. “This is it, this is all I need for the rest of the weekend. I’m going to park my ass in that deck chair with a drink and wrinkle under the sun.”
Matty cleared his throat. “Pike around here somewhere?”
“Frankie!” Phee shouted. “Where are you guys?”
There was a fit of laughter from above that we all turned our attention to seconds before a massive body leapt from the deck protruding off the second floor with a war cry. The tight, muscular figure curled together and cannon-balled into the crystal blue water in front of us, leaving no time to protect ourselves before the resounding splash drenched Mateo, Ophelia, and me all at once.
I stood there like a person a pigeon had just crapped on, too shocked to move and arms outstretched scarecrow style. My toes wiggled against my wet sandals as Tyler Swan in all his big-bodied glory surfaced and shook his buzzed blond head like a dog.
“Tyler!” Ophelia complained halfheartedly. He swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted himself out in his bright pink swim trunks, which were short enough to show off an upper thigh tattoo that twisted beneath the swimsuit and popped out again on his hip, then continued all the way up his ribcage and across his barreling chest.
“You motherfucker.” Matty lunged, wrestling Tyler playfully into a headlock that softened into a brotherly embrace. “Missed you, you brute.” The Swan boys had spent New Year’s with us for a few days in Miami with Frankie and O, and though I’d only known them briefly, I considered them family the same way Mateo did. It was like we were all meant to be part of each other’s lives in one way or another. It warmed my chest to see Mateo smile again— genuinely, excitedly smile, the same way I had when I saw Phee.
“Tally girl.” Tyler opened his arms to me with a charmingly bright smile. “Get over here.”
“You’re soaked,” I pointed out. Mischief splashed across his eyes and he laughed as he pulled me to his chest anyway.
“We told you not to get the girls wet.” Another familiar voice rang from the deck above and Tyler’s younger brother Sam came down the stairs alongside Frankie in their bathing suits.
“I can’t help it,” Tyler answered with a wink.
The Swan brothers couldn’t have had more opposite demeanors, despite their physical similarities. Although Sam’s body was more athletically built, lean and toned to Tyler’s mass of crafted muscle, they had the same light, soft eyes and sharp jawlines. Personality wise, Tyler was the life of the party everywhere he went; he owned a bar in Salt Lake City and spent most, if not all, of his free time behind the bar there. He was larger than life, the center of attention, and a complete and total playboy. Sam on the other hand was quiet and observant, stoic, careful, and only comfortable in settings where he knew every detail and person. He preferred it that way. Slowed down. Their differences were their strengths in Delta according to Mateo because Sam was the silent sniper the boys referred to as Wink, and Tyler was a human battering ram—hence the nickname, Echo.
“Drinks for the guests of honor.” Frankie reached the landing with a tray of plastic cups and handed Matty and me each a fruity cocktail with a paper umbrella.
Mateo squinted. “Is that a dick straw?”
“Yeah.” Frankie smiled. “O thought of everything.”
“Are there regular straws?” he asked.
“We thought you’d feel more at home with these ones.”
“You were right,” I said, sipping on mine. Rum and juice invaded my senses. “God, that’s delicious.”
“Made them myself,” Tyler said, drinking through his little green plastic penis.
“This feels like an omen for how the weekend is going to go,” Matty added, trying his.
Sam, Phee, and Frankie followed our lead and we all stood there in a circle with phallic straws in our mouths. When all the fondest memories of my life flashed before my eyes on my deathbed, this would be a highlight.
We filed through the French doors on the lower level of the house and Ophelia walked us through the layout of the expansive rental. Free floating pink and white balloons were dancing around the foyer, beach balls disguised as disco balls rolling over the floor. A metal spiral staircase took us up to the second floor, an open layout with a massive living area. There was a flat-screen television above a custom driftwood mantle; two deep-seated, L-shaped couches; and a bohemian-styled rug in various depleted shades of pink, orange, and blue. This floor was even more glamorously decorated—balloons scattered across the ceiling, more disco beach balls, pink flamingo-shaped neons, and casino dice. The Vegas disco theme was fun and well thought out, all the way from the tower of plastic champagne glasses centered on the kitchen island to the playing card napkins and Donna Summer playlist.
Frankie pulled a crown off the coffee table that said Total Bach in sparkling silver letters and placed it on my head.
“You should take up event planning, Pike.” Mateo nudged his best man. “Who are you calling whipped now?”
Frankie stifled a grin. “So I blew up some balloons.”
“He had some help,” Sam said. “And about four pages of hand-drawn diagrams.”
“Preparation avoids disaster,” Ophelia justified. “My back-up plans have back-up plans.”
“I, for one, am amazed at you both.” I slung an arm around Frankie and Ophelia’s shoulders and pecked their cheeks one after the other. “Show me more.”
Ophelia swiped a clipboard off the counter and talked us through it as we walked out onto the expansive veranda Tyler had leapt off of into the pool. The deck was covered in a soft green turf and furnished with cushioned outdoor lounge chairs and bean bags, a dining table under the cover of a cantilever umbrella, and circular seating around a freestanding gas fire pit. You could see the entire backyard and poolside from up here and beyond, out into the pink and orange desert stretching toward the city.
“We’re right on time,” Ophelia said, checking something off her list. “Welcome party with drinks, house tour, and room assignments. The next two hours I blocked out for getting settled and comfortable, but then we dip straight into light refreshments and more alcoholic beverages when the rest of the crew gets in. Tonight is about friendship, but tomorrow is when shit gets real.”
“You’ve really got this all mapped out?” Mateo raised an eyebrow.
“Tip of the iceberg,” she assured him.
“When do the strippers get here?” Tyler plopped onto a lone bean bag and flattened it beneath his weight.
Phee perused her list, jabbing at it. “That’s tomorrow.”
Sam shook his head. “Don’t get him all excited, O.”
“Too late.” Tyler shimmied into the bean bag and closed his eyes with a grin.
Frankie tugged Ophelia down onto his lap in a cushioned lounge chair and nuzzled his nose into her hair, whispering something that made a dark red shade sprout over her cheeks and a soft giggle catch between her lips. A longing twisted inside my chest. Jealousy. Jealousy for the first futile months of a relationship that felt so much like flying. The adrenaline rush, the need, that insatiable lusting. I did lust for Mateo. I never wanted anything more than him—in life, in bed, in my heart and soul. Our lust was quieter now, settled in. We weren’t racing an invisible clock, weren’t worried we would burn out. But I did need him, maybe more than ever. I missed him when we were standing in the same room. I was begging for him without knowing how to say it.
Mateo was watching me curiously when I looked toward him. Flames fanned my neck like I’d been caught with my thoughts in a bubble above my head. Maybe the lust wasn’t gluttonous and greedy anymore, but his gaze still leveled me. It still warmed my core and felt like fingers ghosting down my spine. I swallowed nothing, the desert air dry and brittle in my mouth, my tongue like a cat’s.
He looked so good across the deck in his soft white T-shirt, a tendril of his messy hair curling over his forehead, the tip of his tongue slipping between the seam of his lips, and I knew he was reading my mind.
“I’m going to go get our suitcases settled in the room.” I cleared my throat. “See you guys soon.” Sam and Tyler saluted me as I dipped quickly through the glass doors with Mateo’s attention following me.
Our bedroom was the biggest in the house with a private bathroom and balcony, and large windows on three of the four walls on the west side of the house where the sun poured through at golden hour. There was a spread of gifts on the bed that included a bottle of champagne, a large sun hat that said Bride , sunglasses, sunscreens and skincare, organic dark chocolate, and a box of expensive cigars and mint gum beside it for Mateo. Then next to all that was a small folded towel that gave me pause as I picked it up and read Cum Rag embroidered in delicate script across the cloth. Beside it was a box of condoms, a bottle of personal lubricant, and a note that said, Don’t use it all in one place , with a winking face. I tugged my bottom lip into my mouth.
There was no way I could admit to Mateo that I was having a crisis about our sex life. Our very versatile, not at all vanilla sex life. Not many couples spent their free time filming themselves having intercourse for money, and even complaining to him about our intimacy felt selfish when I already asked so much of him being involved in the cam business. To say we didn’t have enough sex felt silly.
A few weeks in the grand scheme of the rest of our lives together was nothing. It didn’t mean anything, like my insecurities were telling me it did. First I was worried all he saw me as was a warm body, and now I was worried he didn’t even want that part of me. This blip didn’t mean that my future husband was growing bored of me outside our scheduled sessions. It didn’t mean he wasn’t attracted to me unless I was pretending to be someone else. It didn’t mean he enjoyed spending his free time alone rather than with me, or that my fear of him becoming complacent in our relationship and seeing me as a business partner rather than a life partner was coming to fruition.
It didn’t.
That was not the reason he was staying later at work more often and telling me less about his days. He wouldn’t regret getting involved with me after all this time; we were meant to be together.
I sat at the foot of the bed and chewed on the edge of my nails until the gel started to warp. God, I fucking hated my stupid brain sometimes. Most of the time. I was at war with my own train of thought. I was going to be the girl at the end of the altar asking my husband if he was positive when he said I do .
My head lifted at Mateo coming through the door. It clicked closed as he leaned back against it, and his eyebrow arched curiously. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Could you hear me thinking?” I scoffed.
“I like to think I can.” He was in front of me in three slow steps, sticking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “You wear all your emotions like a badge.”
“That’s actually called resting bitch face.”
“It’s such a gorgeous face though.”
My mouth slowly lifted into a smile.
“Really,” Mateo continued, reaching out and running his thumb softly below my bottom lip. “We’re in Las Vegas celebrating our wedding with our best friends. It’s finally fucking happening. Some days this part, the good part, felt so goddamn far away, but you did it, Tally. I know it hasn’t been easy, and I’ve been too caught up in work to give you the attention you deserve, but you still managed to do it all. I’m amazed by you.”
My heart swelled, throat tightening as I turned to kiss the palm of his hand resting against my jaw and murmured, “Maybe you can hear my thoughts.”
Mateo squatted down in front of me and put us at eye level. His thighs strained against the material of his shorts and momentarily, that was all I could focus on. “Is that why you're up here alone? Stressed out about every little detail? This is the one weekend you have to forget about all of those things, baby. It can wait. Enjoy this while we’re in the moment. I want you to be here with me.”
I pulled a deep breath in through my nose. “I wish we could get married right now. Forget all the fanfare and the flowers and guests. I want it to be simple, like this is. Just us. The closer we get to the wedding the more I’m questioning my motivations for everything. Don’t get me wrong, it’ll be beautiful, but it feels like it’s not for us anymore.”
“Are you regretting it?” Matty asked hoarsely, his face twisted in concern. He steadied himself with both hands on my knees, and skimmed his palms up my thighs and back down comfortingly. I was still on edge and that soft touch brought a wave of goose bumps to the surface of my skin.
“No, not at all,” I rushed out. “Never. I’m admitting that I cared too much about sticking it to my family that I’m just as successful as my sisters by having a wedding that will impress them. The whole planning, the elaborate decor, the venue—it was all because my parents never thought I could do it without their help. But the only thing I care about anymore is that I’m getting married to you. The rest is this made-up thing I’ve been trying to convince myself I’ve wanted since I was a kid.”
“Do you want to postpone it?” As much as that felt like what I was asking for, it wasn’t what I wanted. The wedding had been months in the making, and there were too many factors involved to selfishly put it off for a theme change at the eleventh hour.
“I don’t want to waste another day not being your wife, so absolutely not,” I assured him. “It’s all the little things adding up lately that have me thinking is all. There’s a lot I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” His eyes flashed to mine as I put my hands over his and the air in the room thinned. I pulled them higher, meeting the bottom of my shorts, and Mateo’s lips parted.
“All ears,” he answered distractedly, playing with the loose frills of my jean shorts.
“Remember the ground rules we laid out, for having your parents stay?”
“Yes.”
“We might be letting one of those things get away from us.” I danced around it, feeling him out. The partial power trip of having him kneeling in front of me was giving me a boost of confidence. Mateo was so dominant intimately, I reveled in his softer, submissive sides when they peeked through. He turned it on and off so beautifully, like a switch.
His fingers slipped under the hem of the shorts on either side and squeezed my outer thighs. A sigh fell from my mouth in the quiet room and Matty’s eyes glinted gold like sparks in a fire. “Say the word, Natalia.”
The lube lying a foot away from us was so promising.
I thought too hard, for too long, and then there was a hand at my throat, tugging me forward until our noses connected and our unsteady breaths mingled. “I know you’ve been feeling this too, between us. I know what want looks like in your eyes. I could see it outside.” His words skated across my lips and I pitched forward to claim him but he kept the distance like a cat-and-mouse game. A short whine erupted from me, pleasing Mateo into a grin.
“I want to get back to us again,” I said vulnerably. My fingers skated into his long hair, pushing it off his forehead, behind his ears. His eyebrows threaded together like I’d pinched a nerve, then relaxed into understanding. We both underestimated how hard it would be to meld our separate lives into one. Our opposite upbringings, our distinctly different families. We were also naive to think we knew each other entirely without having stirred that pot. Love is never just about two people. It’s about how two people take on the world together.
Mateo leaned forward and kissed me, blank slating all the thoughts I had racing through my head as my eyes fell closed, lashes fanning together. It deepened instantly as our lips made way for tongues to clash and a satisfied hum rumbled through Matty’s chest and landed like a rock in the cavity of my stomach. This kiss was an ‘I’m hungry for you’ kiss, an ‘if you don’t stop me now, this is going to go all the way’ kiss.
Half my shirt was over my head when the sudden slam of a car door in the driveway below our window followed by the incoherent rumble of yelling demanded our attention. I ignored it initially—my fiancé was kissing his way down my body and parts of me were completely checked out of reality. But another door slammed, and more disgruntled exclamations had Mateo perking his head up to listen.
“What is that?” I was flushed and breathy, and I ran my hand involuntarily through his locks like a tether to the moment, willing it to not get away from us again. But the chirping continued through the back gate of the house, getting louder and more animated and branching off into three very distinct voices that belonged to my sisters.
Causing a scene like clockwork.
I blew out a breath and ran my hands up and down my face with a groan. “Perfect timing as usual for us Russos.”
“Ophelia can probably handle it,” Mateo tried.
“I would never subject her to that.” I slipped my tank back over my head and shimmied out from under Mateo’s touch. He remained there on his knees with his forehead on the mattress, the blankets muffling his growl of frustration.
Jogging through the door and down the hallway, I met Ophelia out on the veranda where she was already trying to mediate my concerned and overwhelmed sisters. Camilla was wearing a sun hat the size of the deck umbrella and dragging a designer carry-on bag carelessly up the stone stairs.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“There’s a freak that followed us here all the way from the airport,” she spat. Mia and Isabella were making their way up the stairs close behind.
I looked down at an inexplicable number of suitcases abandoned poolside. “Followed you how?”
“He asked us at the taxi pickup if we wanted to carpool,” Bella explained. “Yeah, no thanks. Women can’t even walk outside alone without the threat of physical assault.”
“I called him an ass-licking incel and then we jumped in the SUV and got the fuck out of there,” Mia said. “But his car trailed us all the way here and parked outside. I think we need to call the cops.”
“Who’s calling the cops now?” Tyler and Sam stepped out onto the deck in tandem and the eyes on all three of my sisters doubled in size.
“Looks like the cops are already here,” Bella lavished.
Tyler’s eyes lit up and a smirk stretched across his handsome face. “You are going to get me in all types of trouble, aren’t you?”
“Oh my god.” I swallowed and put my body between them. “Where is this guy now? The boys will take care of it.”
“Is your name Frankie, by chance?” Mia pointed at Sam.
“Have you forgotten that you just busted in here screaming about a potential stalker security risk?” I reminded her. “Focus, Mia.”
Mateo and Frankie joined the group outside, glancing around in confusion. My fiancé caught my gaze and lifted an eyebrow. “Everyone okay?” he asked.
“A car followed my sisters here from the airport. Can you four just go do a quick look around out front and see what’s going on to ease everyone’s mind?”
“Of course.” Mateo nodded. He gestured his head toward the stairs and Frankie and the Swans followed the order like it was ingrained in them, filing one by one in a stealthy line toward the backyard fence. Us girls leaned over the veranda wall and watched from a safe distance.
“Should we keep score on the absolute fuck-assery that goes down this weekend?” I suggested. “Starting strong with this one. If someone’s not in jail by Sunday it will be a miracle.”
“No one is ending up in jail,” Ophelia assured me. “This is a small hiccup. It will be sorted out in just a few minutes.”
The wooden double doors on the gate squeaked open and the men below stopped, flattening themselves to the white stone walls of the house, disappearing from view.
“Oh my fucking god, he’s coming inside,” Camilla panicked.
My lungs jammed into my ribs, nervous energy buzzing. “It’s okay, they’re literally trained for this.”
In a flash Sam reached out and pulled the gate completely open, shocking the person on the other side as Tyler in all his big boy glory dropped his shoulder and pummeled him into the ground. We heard the air leave the man’s body in an oof as Mateo and Frankie crowded around the intruder who was splayed out like a pancake and groaning toward the sun.
“Oh fuck,” Mateo cursed. “Shit.”
“Babe, are you okay?” I yelled down.
“Yeah, are you okay?” Bella shouted all girlish and high-pitched. She nudged me with her elbow. “Ask Chris Hemsworth if he’s okay.”
“He does look like a Hemsworth,” Mia agreed. “Good one.”
Mateo helped Tyler to his feet before dusting the chest off the guy on the ground and offering him a hand to stand back up. I squinted, recognizing the stranger in his NY Yankees hat, a golden cross around his neck that matched the one Mateo always wore, and a beaten-up black suitcase still caught in the fence gate behind him.
“That’s him.” Camilla sighed in relief. “That’s the guy.”
“That’s my fucking brother-in-law you absolute idiots.” I ran down the steps directly to Angelo’s side where he was still catching his breath from having the wind knocked out of him.
“So sorry, man.” Tyler clapped him sympathetically on the back. “Our intel was wrong, it seems.”
“Angelo, oh my god.” Under his ball cap, Angelo’s green eyes were pinched and he rubbed his right shoulder, rotating it. “Are you okay? Can I get you something? Ice? A beer? A restraining order against my sisters? I can’t apologize enough.”
“On it.” Ophelia rushed to my side with a cold pack straight out of a medical kit and handed it to Angelo. “Is anything broken?”
“I mean, he’s a big fucking guy, but I got some meat on my bones. I can take a hit,” Angelo said lightheartedly. His disposition calmed my worry and he smiled at me, a bright boyish smile that wrinkled his nose. Then I was pulled cheek to hard chest and wrapped in a strong hug. “Hey, sis. Looking too good for my brother, I’ll tell you that much.”
“He’s fine.” Mateo punched out a laugh. “You’ll be a cheeky fucking bastard on your deathbed, Ang.”
My sisters ambled down the stairs with their heads dipped a bit lower than usual. “In our defense, we had no idea who you were,” Camilla offered with an apologetic wince. “I’m Camilla, by the way.”
“Bella,” Isabella piped up, waving her fingers at him.
Mia cleared her throat. Her oversized designer sunglasses were covering half her face and she outstretched a hand to him. “Mia.”
“Nice to meet you, Mia.” Angelo reached out and took her palm in his. A grin sprouted on his lips. “I’m Ass-licking Incel.”