Chapter 14
Mateo
I left work early so I could make it home in time for dinner, expecting to beat Lucy to the apartment. I offered to pick her up, but she never responded.
It's not like her. I'm still getting used to this version of her, without her phone always on, but I'd had hopes after Silas spent time with her that she was doing okay. He said she seemed good, and I believed him.
But when I get home, the typically noisy apartment is oddly quiet. The TV, which Silas and Noah often have blaring while they're on the latter end of a project or just to fuck around after work is off. The house smells like Italian food, garlic and tomatoes.
I drop my bag on a chair in the kitchen and walk into the living room, finding Noah on the couch, Silas in a chair. They stare at their phones, the atmosphere oddly tense.
"You heard from Lucy?" Silas asks hopefully, looking up.
"I thought you said she was coming over?"
"Yeah, she was supposed to."
"What do you mean? I thought she wasn't supposed to be here until—" I tug at my sleeve and glance at my watch. "Six?"
"Yeah, I texted her this morning and said six. Then sent her the address. Noah tried texting to ask what she'd want to eat… I don't know, man. She hasn't texted either of us back. Think she's still coming?"
Irritation bubbles beneath my skin. Not at Lucy, but at the situation, the uncertainty. I adjust my collar, trying to decide what to do. Give her more time? She's not technically late. But Lucy's chronically early. She's also pathologically kind. It seems unlike her to not have responded to either of them.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and call her. It goes straight to voicemail.
I try again. Still, no answer.
"I'll be back," I tell them, then turn to head back out.
"Wait, we'll come with you," Noah says eagerly, climbing off the couch.
"No, not… not this time. Just… I'll talk to her, find out what's going on."
"Think she changed her mind?" Silas asks. Typically confident and cocky, he sounds dejected. He was so excited yesterday after spending the day with Lucy.
"I don't think she's had time to decide one way or another. With everything else going on…" I leave it hanging, thinking of my call with my lawyer last night. He says I can't do shit to keep Delaney away from Lucy unless she asks for it herself. The only reason Delaney confessed to lying about the pictures as quickly as she did was because I threatened to sue her for defamation. But her hanging around outside Lucy's apartment is, unfortunately, not a crime.
I leave in a hurry, stuffing my phone in my pocket, hailing down the first cab I see. I get to my apartment—Lucy's, now, I guess—twenty minutes later.
I'm worried. It's unlike her to blow someone off. If she wasn't coming, she'd have said so. I half expect to find Delaney hanging around downstairs when I get there, but I don't. Greeting the doorman, I hurry through the lobby and stab the elevator button. I have to wait for it to arrive, navigating around an older couple who takes their time exiting.
When I get to the penthouse, I debate knocking or using my key.
Bracing myself for potentially making the wrong decision, I stick my key in the door and let myself in. The apartment is quiet, the lights off.
Music filters from down the hall, low, soft and haunting. I make noise, dropping my keys on the white marble kitchen counter, but she doesn't hear me. If she does, she ignores me. It doesn't feel great.
"Lucy?" I call out. She doesn't respond, so I tentatively make my way down the hall, the music getting louder the closer I get to our bedroom. I call out again, but she doesn't reply.
The door is ajar, but I tap my knuckles, anyway. Still, no answer, so I let myself in. It is my bedroom, after all.
The room is dark, a soft glow coming from the bathroom, where the music originates.
Rapping my knuckles on the door frame, I open slowly and walk in.
Bubbles float around the bathtub. A smile touches my lips, but it drops away when I catch her expression. She looks fucking sad, and man does that gut me.
She doesn't ask me to leave, and she doesn't seem surprised to see me. We stare at each other for a moment. Slowly tugging off my tie, I kick off my shoes and get undressed, giving her ample time to kick me out. She doesn't.
When I climb into the tub opposite her, she brings her knees closer to her chest. The water may be warm, but it's being with her that brings comfort. Reaching out, I grab her foot, pulling it onto my lap.
Her legs are wet and slippery, and I work the bubbles into her skin, rubbing the muscles in her calves. Lucy runs a lot, her legs are strong and firm. I love her body. She's made self-deprecating comments about being ordinary or average. She's not particularly dainty or small, or curvy or voluptuous. But she's strong. I like that about her.
Maybe I don't tell her that enough.
I open my mouth to say something, maybe step closer to sticking my foot in my mouth with unasked-for commentary on how much I admire her body, but she beats me to it.
"Did you call?"
Frowning, I shake my head. "What do you mean?"
"Is that why you're here? Did you call again, and I didn't answer?"
"Where's your phone?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. I think I'm going to stop using it." She reaches out, gathering more bubbles, pulling them closer to her body, obscuring her chest completely. Fluffy white foam sticks to her chin, an amusing contrast to her somber expression.
"I thought you were coming over for dinner?"
She looks surprised, then takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I forgot."
"You forgot? That's unlike you."
She nods, "I'm sorry. I should text Silas. That was so rude of me."
"It's okay Lucy. What's going on with you?" I let go of her leg and she pulls it close to her body, so I reach out, grabbing the other, resisting the urge to pull her naked body closer.
"What do you want from me, Mateo?"
My ministrations slow, but I keep rubbing her leg, massaging the bath oils into her muscles. "I told you already, Lucy. I want everything."
She tugs her leg out of my grasp. I let her.
"What does that mean?"
"Silas said your talk went well yesterday, that you seemed okay. Did something happen between then and now?"
A shadow crosses her face. The candles in the room, several of which light the white tile, cast just as many dark shadows as they do glowing light. "Delaney came over."
"What the fuck? Why can't that bitch just leave you the fuck alone?"
"She said some things…"
I growl under my breath. This fucking woman, I swear to god. "Okay, what did she say? Let's talk about this. Because I thought we came to an understanding the other night. I thought it was clear what I wanted. I thought we both admitted to the shit we'd found lacking in our relationship. So what did she convince you of?"
"Don't say it like that," she sighs.
"Like what?"
"Like I don't know my own mind."
I want to snap and be fucking angry. I know Lucy's fragile; I know this. Which is why Delaney pisses me off so much, because she takes advantage of that.
So, I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."
Lucy runs her hand through the bubbles while she gathers the words and the confidence to tell me what she's thinking and feeling. Softly, she says, "Does it seem more likely that you want me to be with you and your friends? Or does it seem more likely that I caught you at a sex club and you made up an excuse for being there?"
"You told her about that?" I ask, surprised.
She shakes her head. "No, she said some other stuff." She waves her hand in the air. "I don't trust or believe Delaney, Mateo. I'm not stupid. I didn't know she was that cruel, but she made some good points. You don't come home sometimes. You're on your phone all the time. I feel like I barely get to see you. And yeah, maybe she did plant some doubts, and maybe I'm stupid for letting her, but Mateo, a sex club? I just—" she shakes her head again, eyes watering.
I fucking hate seeing Lucy cry. Without overthinking it, I reach across the massive jet tub and gather her in my arms. Surprisingly, she lets me pull her onto my lap, her naked flesh slippery and soft beneath the depths of the water. She rests her head against my chest, snuggling close. Despite still feeling doubts, she seeks comfort with me.
Absently running my fingers through her hair, I try to explain. It was stupid of me to think our five-minute talk at Atrium was enough to explain what I'd been feeling for months. It was unfair of me to expect her to jump on board, no questions asked. Lucy's a planner. She's anxious and nervous, and needs to know all aspects of a thing. If we go to dinner and try a new place, she texts me a full menu in advance, an overview of their busiest times, debating all contingencies whether we meet there or at home. She's organized and thoughtful and sweet and I'm a fucking asshole for dumping all my dark shit on her lap and expecting her to just accept it.
"I love you Lucy."
"I know, Mateo, I lo—"
"No, just. Let me get this out." I kiss her temple. "I love you. And you're enough. I need you to know, you're enough. Do you believe me?"
After a beat, she nods.
I continue, "I don't come home every single night. And while I didn't outright lie, I let you assume I was working all night, but I wasn't always. I'm sorry. Mostly, I'm at the office. But, on other occasions, I was with Noah and Silas, catching up with them, crashing at their place in my old room. I didn't admit that at the time because then I'd have to explain them."
"People have friends, Mateo. I wouldn't have immediately assumed you wanted me to have sex with them. That's kind of a leap." I can practically feel her eyes roll, making me chuckle.
"You're right. I'm… private. I don't mean to be, it's not intentional. I'm not trying to keep things from you, I just thought if I mentioned them, you'd want to meet them, and I knew they'd want to meet you, which is why I didn't tell them about you either, not until last week. It's really hard to explain, Lucy. How I feel, the places my brain goes.
"I'm obsessive with work. You know this. And I disappear into that, it's the only reason I'm on my phone as much as I am. I'm either texting you, them, or working. That's it. There's no mystery. I'm not up to something nefarious. I'm just… busy. Which is why it's always worked in the past, dating with them. If we met someone at the club, I could give her half my attention, knowing they'd pick up the slack."
She stiffens in my arms, and I don't blame her. Before she jumps to the wrong conclusions, I keep going. "I never wanted to give you half my attention, Lucy. You're the first person I've ever met that… goddamn, I fucking love you. I want to give you my all. But that means I want to provide for you, too. I think about our future. About stability. About you feeling safe and cared for. It's a cycle, because I only end up working more, taking on more projects."
"I don't care about money, Mateo. I'd rather have you."
I nod, "I know. I do know that. I'm trying to be better. I'll be better for you, I swear." She relaxes slightly, so I hug her tighter. "I can give you my all, but I still think you deserve more. And I love them, too. That's the part that's hard to explain, and I didn't think I could when we first started dating, or when I first realized it felt like you were… the one."
And she is. The one I want to spend my life with. We've never talked this deeply about our future before. She tried when I bought the apartment and we moved in together, but I was worried I'd scare her off, so I just implied it made smart financial sense to share space. She makes decent money as an influencer, but she's not wealthy.
"Are you three…" she clears her throat, "umm, involved?"
My hand stills on her shoulder, and I smile against her temple. "No, not like you're thinking. I'm straight." I don't add speculation about Noah, that's his story to share. "We're just… together. We fit well. When I met you, I wanted you to myself. Not because I didn't need them anymore, but because I wanted to be enough. But I realized, especially after the last few months, it's not about being selfish with you. I like being with them. I missed them. They're… idiots," I laugh, and she giggles against me.
"I mean, they're smart as fuck. Talented, creative. Many things I'm not. But they help keep me grounded. Aside from you, Noah's the only one who's ever been able to pull me away from work or make me take vacation days, rare as they are. My point is… since I met you, you felt like the fourth. Like a missing piece. I fucking love you, Lucy, and I want to be with you. I don't know if you'll learn to love them too. Even just as friends. All I know is, I want you in my life. We're used to poly relationships. It makes sense for us, but maybe it doesn't make sense for you and me. I don't know what the right answer is, but I want to know if you're open to trying it."
She's quiet for a few minutes, but she feels soft and relaxed in my arms. The water's getting cold, the exposed skin above the fading bubbles cold to the touch. Neither of us attempts to get out, though.
"And Atrium?"
"What about it?"
"You were there…"
"I meant what I said. We used to go there all the time. They still do. Or did. It's not just about sex, Lu. It's a place I've always felt like I wasn't judged. Where people didn't speculate or assume my sexual orientation because I spent so much time with two men. Where I could meet someone and it wouldn't be strange to have a conversation about the blunt specifics of our varied sexual interests."
"Like what…?" Lucy asks, unable to hide the hitch in her breath. My cock stirs in the water, suddenly very aware of every curve and touch of her nakedness against mine.
Lucy and I had an active sex life. When I was around, anyway. And it was great. But I know I was holding back. I didn't mean to, it wasn't intentional, and it wasn't because I didn't think she'd want it or couldn't handle it. I was just worried about showing her too much of myself.
But all that's changed. I've shared more with her, bared more of myself to her than ever before, and she's still here. Not just waiting, but wanting .
"Like…" My hand slips from her shoulder, trailing across her collarbone. Her breath hitches, chest expanding with a deep inhale when I slide my fingers down, cupping her breast. She moans, leaning into me, the haunting music in the room dancing through the empty air, filling every moment between her gasping inhales.
. "What we did at the club, for one. It's not just about sharing you, mi corazón . It's about watching your pleasure. Your facial expressions, your body pulling in tight when you're about to snap."
I pull her further onto my lap so her back is against my chest. One hand slips lower, down her firm stomach, to the apex of her thighs. My other hand lifts from her breast. As I pass her heart, I feel the beat, a staccato rhythm quick and light, anticipating. My hand teases up her chest, and I gently wrap my fingers around her throat.
"I want to hold you down because I can't get enough of you. Because you drive me insane, and I want everything from you…" My fingers clutch her throat tighter, while my other hand gently strokes between her legs. Despite the cooling bathwater, her pussy feels warm and slick between my fingers. I don't press or tease, though. It's a claim, a declaration, and my fingers curl inside her, palm pressing against her clit, while I firmly hold her in place, gripping her tightly.
"I don't want to control you in life, Lucy. I love how fucking vibrant and sweet and energetic you are. But sometimes, in the bedroom, I want to make you obey. I want to hold you down and force you to settle. Watching you fall apart, that look of euphoria after you come, the way your body relaxes, eyes get all hazy… I love knowing I can do that to you, that I can take you there."
"That's what I want. It's what I think about," she whispers urgently. "I stop thinking when you take control. Sometimes, when it hurts… just for a second, all I think about is the feeling . Nothing else."
"Have you ever explored being held down? Has anyone ever tied you up or… chased you?"
She lets out a sharp laugh. "No. Definitely not. I've always wanted it a little harder or rougher. But it's never been enough. Sometimes when you do that," her fingers wrap around the ones I hold to her throat, "it's like I'm touching the edge of a void. I can't explain it, but I know I want more."
I hum in acknowledgement, my mind suddenly whirling with the possibilities. My cock juts firmly against her ass between her legs. Before I give in and take her right here and now, I ask, "Would you be open to experimenting?"