Ace Of Spades_A Dark Erotic Romance Page 4

I wordlessly readjusted my shirt and fixed my hair as he got himself back together. When he was done, he took out his cellphone and tapped away at the screen.

  “Gather whatever you don’t want to leave and let’s go,” he said, speaking so calmly it was almost like he hadn’t just come inside me.

  He began walking towards the door without seeing if I would listen. Him just casually strolling away bothered me for varying reasons. I didn’t want to fall into him any deeper than I already was.

  Not when I didn’t have a single fucking answer as to what the hell was going on.

  “What about the dead guy?”

  “It will be taken care of.”

  “Okay and, Eva? Who hurt…killed her? And Raine’s dead, she and her family had nothing to do with any of this, but they were executed in cold blood. And the men that showed up…you have to tell me something!”

  “Elena, the wisest thing for you to do is get the fuck up and follow me,” he shot back, not so much as giving me another glance.

  And here we went again, with the elusive answers followed up by a large dose of mind-fuck. I had to remind myself that this was about a game, a game that was rigged with no clear picture of the outcome.

  Chapter Eight

  The rain was coming down in sheets.

  I sat beside Mateo in the backseat of his Tahoe, watching the windshield wipers whip back and forth.

  We’d hardly spoken to one another since leaving the crappy motel. For once, I didn’t mind the silence.

  My body ached with the reminder of what we’d done. I was fighting the urge to curl up on the leather seat and go to sleep.

  Leaning my head against the cool glass, I let out what had to be my fifth sigh.

  I strummed my fingertips on top of my little white box of ashes, watching my engagement ring glimmer in the window’s reflection.

  I never took it off because I truly had planned on going back to Mateo, only I thought I’d be doing so after I had some semblance of a plan.

  I’d been so confident being away from him would help me regroup. All I managed to do was hit the same roadblock I always did, every question answered led to another question I didn’t know where to begin finding an answer for.

  Space didn’t help me, at all. If anything this all clarified what common sense already told me, the answers all lied with the infuriating kingpin sitting beside me.

  He placed a hand on my thigh and lightly squeezed.

  “Your thoughts’ are loud, anjo.”

  I lifted my head and looked at him, loathing how easy it was for him to read me. It took concentrated effort and a shitload of patience for me to do the same with him.

  “What does that mean? Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “It means angel.”

  “I’m no angel,” I scoffed.

  “You’re a bit twisted, but that doesn’t make you less than an angel, you just have fringed wings.”

  I didn’t have a reply at the helm for that, so I turned back to the window and resumed my previous position. I was starting to feel more like Lucifer, but even he had wings once upon a time. Mateo’s words proved his ability to see beneath all my pretty and straight to the ugly.

  My complete disregard for the thing’s other people would be losing their shit over, how calm I was in the midst of all this, and the fact I still found comfort when I gave him my body…

  It all solidified what I’d long ago realized about myself.

  I was stingy with my empathy and death didn’t bother me. The right kind of violence made my heart beat irregularly, never in fear, always sick excitement.

  Just. Like. Him.

  I hid my flaws whereas he never pretended to be anyone other than who he was. I envied that freedom. And sitting there with the sound of rain pelting off the roof in the dark of the morning, I accepted he was right.

  We fit perfectly together.

  A gentle hand on my shoulder shook me awake.

  Before I could fully open my eyes, I felt the chill of a breeze and bits of rain hit my face.

  Blinking, I rubbed the side of my head and took notice of Mateo standing outside of the truck in the dark with an umbrella shielding him from the downpour.

  “Come on.” He reached inside the truck and took my hand.

  “Where are we?” I asked around a yawn, scooting across the seat.

  “The cemetery.”

  I immediately tried to pull my hand away. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “Relax, Elena. I’m not going to hurt you,” he soothed, securing his grip. “There’s something you need to see.”

  “At a cemetery, at almost five in the morning, in the dark while it’s raining?”

  “What better time is there?” His white teeth flashed in the dark as he smiled. “Come with me,” he repeated a little gentler.

  With an irritated sigh, I slid out of the truck and immediately sought shelter under the large red umbrella.

  I still had Raine’s pink sweater jacket and lifted the hood to help block some of the water hitting my face.

  Mateo said something to the driver (that I’d never seen before) in his native tongue and then placed a hand on the small of my back to guide me.

  His vision was clearly better than mine because I could barely see two feet in front of me and he had no issues making his way to where he wanted to be.

  I focused on the water starting to absorb through the bottom of my slippers. When I looked up again I knew exactly where we were going.

  Not a minute later we were cutting through a small stretch of grass and stopping directly in front of my family’s plot.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked again, wondering what he was playing at now.

  “Look.”

  Refraining from rolling my eyes, I looked back at the marble headstones not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Okay, I couldn’t really see them at all due to the weather, but I knew every marker by heart.

  “There are five graves here, Elena, but not all of them contain a body. Who do you think is missing?”

  My brows slanted together as I studied the graves for a second time, skimming over each one.

  I knew my grandfather was dead, Molly was most certainly dead, Eva was in a box, and my mother had been in her casket during calling hours, so unless one of the three I knew was buried rose up from the afterlife that only left one other person.

  My mind immediately rejected the notion. It didn’t make any sense.

  “It’s Eva or my…father.” I looked up at Mateo, needing him to say something.

  “It isn’t,” was his blunt response.

  “What isn’t, Mateo?”

  “The answers not simple enough for me to give you a yes or no,” he elaborated.

  Shaking my head, I looked back at the graves at a loss. If my father was alive, then where the fuck was he?

  Chapter Nine

  The most poisonous, dysfunctional people I knew were all disguised under the illusion of family.

  They were liars, criminals, and ridiculously selfish. They fit right into this fucked up clandestine world. I had a plethora of issues of my own; so I sincerely hoped I didn’t inherit their toxic dysfunction on top of them. If I did, I was doubly fucked.

  Now back at the cozy Mediterranean villa, I stood beneath the hot spray of water, wishing I could stay there forever.

  This whole venture was leading me down a path I never intended on walking. Not one thing I’d discovered boded well for how this would end.

  I knew the truth wasn’t going to be black and white. It never had been. Hell, the way things were going, I wasn’t entirely sure I even wanted it anymore. The Rias name was a curse, a noose slowly tightening around my neck. I understood now why Mateo insisted on me severing all ties with it and taking his surname.

  “Dammit,” I muttered, leaning against the wall. My brain literally felt like it was throbbing. I felt like I’d overslept, and there was too much shit bouncing around inside my head.

  Was it
wrong to hate them for the mess they’d made of my life? My family’s secrets and lies were overflowing and never-ending.

  I’d never been well equipped to deal with things like this. I needed to do something before I self-sabotaged myself.

  Shutting the water off, I stepped out of the shower and didn’t bother with grabbing a towel. I made my way back into the exuberant master suite I shared with Mateo and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking deep in thought.

  His eyes met mine before slowly perusing every inch of my body, lingering exactly where I wanted him to be.

  I’m sure I’d one day be judged harshly by all the do-gooders with self-righteous moral conduct, but it was what it was.

  I’d always been a tad bit reckless. I suppose I was selfish too, unashamedly so. I still had a lifetime of bad decisions left in me, and he was always going to be my favorite one.

  I didn’t want to pretend anymore, not with him. I just wanted to be myself.

  He let me approach him, allowed me to straddle him, and didn’t pull away when I placed his hands on my slick hips.

  “I want you,” I told him, resting my hands on his shoulders.

  “Do you? After you ran away from me, vanishing for four days? Do you know the danger you put yourself in?” he asked, sliding his palms around to my ass, and beginning to knead the flesh.

  “How would I know that when no one has ever told me what I should be afraid of?”

  “You should be afraid of me.”

  I tilted my head to the side and smiled. “I know you’re a dangerous man, Mateo. I always have. I’m not afraid of that side of you, in fact, I really like it.”

  If he was at all surprised by that confession, he did an excellent job of hiding it.

  He kissed between my breasts and then closed his mouth around my left nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue.

  I groaned, leaning into the sensation, whimpering when he bit down. He soothed the sting and then kissed a path to my right tit. His mouth encased my other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the left, his fingers continued to massage my ass.

  “You think you deserve more of my cock?”

  “I don’t just want your cock, I want your mouth too,” I grinned, petting the top of his head.

  “Then you’ll tell me exactly where you want it.”

  “I want your tongue inside my pussy while I play with myself.”

  He made a sound in his throat and flipped me onto my back. There was no hesitation on his end, he took hold of my calves and dragged me towards the end of the bed.

  “Tell me what you want next?”

  “Your cock, hard and rough,” I answered easily. “I want you to make it hurt.”

  He grinned and placed his mouth between my parted thighs.

  “Now beg pretty, and you can have everything you so desperately need,” he taunted, blowing warm breath on my slit, teasing it with his fingers.

  I swallowed, pushing myself up on my elbows. “Will you please eat my pussy?” I lifted my hips, touching my center to his soft lips. His tongue darted out; he flattened it against me and then slowly swiped up and down.

  “Keep going,” he demanded. He gripped my thighs and began to steadily bob his head up and down.

  I did as he wanted, continuing to pump my hips, working his tongue deeper and deeper. Sliding a hand over my torso, I started playing with my clit.

  Saliva and arousal ran down my thighs, coating his face. I was right on the edge when he stopped and pulled away.

  “You don’t get to come until my balls are aching and my dick is chafed.”

  I nodded, breathless, eager for more of him.

  He removed every piece of his clothing. His gorgeous, toned body flexed as he moved forward and settled onto the bed.

  “It’s going to hurt,” was all the warning he gave me. Without further prelude, he hooked my legs over his forearms and thrust himself inside me.

  I didn’t receive a gracing period to adjust or take a breath before he was bottoming out. Every deeply rooted stroke` pushed me closer and closer to the headboard; he followed my body, pounding into me.

  When I couldn’t go anywhere else, he positioned me, so my legs were now hooked over his broad shoulders and wrapped his hand around my throat, forcing me to hold still and take everything he gave me.

  His movements were animalistic; it hurt so bad it felt amazing. My pussy made loud suctioning noises as skin smacked against skin and he moved in and out of me. Sweat dripped from his body onto mine. I felt like a pretzel about to break in two.

  “Yes,” I hissed as tears sprang to my eyes.

  This was the best form of medicine. He had the ability to make my head a mess, and quiet all the chaos that continually plagued me. His body––his touch––him––was a mind-numbing neutralizer.

  “Come for me, anjo,” he coaxed, dropping one of my legs to fondle my swollen clit. I felt my walls clenching around him.

  I came so hard the tears spilled, and my mind blacked. My nails raked down his back, tearing at the flesh.

  I was still riding my high, damn near hyperventilating when he came inside me with a guttural groan.

  He lowered my other leg; they both fell to the side like limp noodles, trembling with little aftershocks. My chest rose and fell in exertion.

  Mateo kissed me tenderly on my lips, and then my forehead, staying between my legs.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I sighed, rubbing my brow.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” His defensive tone had a slight smile tilting up one corner of my mouth.

  “I’m not crying or cursing Eva’s name. I’m not demanding you tell me where my father is…shouldn’t I be doing these things?”

  “No, you simply aren’t expanding energy on problems you can’t fix. That should have never fallen on your shoulders to deal with in the first place.”

  “But––.”

  “Stop feeling guilty about being content to be free. You’ve lived your entire life in your family’s shadow of shame. You’re allowed to want more, amada. You deserve more.”

  A full smile overtook my face this time. I reached up and cupped his cheek, smoothing my thumb over his stubble.

  “That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “It wasn’t sweet, it was the truth,” he retorted, turning his head to kiss my palm. “But, we do need to talk,” he murmured after another beat, lifting away from me. “I’m going to shower and then there’s something else you need to see.”

  I opened my mouth to ask for more of an explanation, and then realized who I was dealing with. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer.

  Flopping flat on my back, I stared up at the ceiling wondering what skeleton was about to fall out of the closet next.

  Chapter Ten

  We were close to the end.

  I readied the media player in the theater room, feeling Elena’s eyes on me the entire time.

  “Does this ever end? Are you always going to evade my questions with riddles?”

  I glanced back at her and withheld a sigh.

  She was curled up in a corner of the sectional with a throw wrapped around her shoulders, dressed simply in sweatpants and a tank top.

  Physically, Elena looked as youthful as ever. Mentally, she was beyond her years.

  I knew I’d contributed to that aging, but her family was the real villains of this story.

  “Does it end? For me, never. For you, it’s almost done. When that happens, we’ll be married, and you’ll finally be able to enjoy living freely for once.”

  “Married,” she hummed, glancing at her ring for a few seconds. “Does marriage include pot roast every Sunday and little baby Mateo’s running around?” she smirked, laying her head on the arm of the couch.

  “I don’t like pot roast. And I prefer two of each, but I’ll be grateful for whatever your body blesses me with.”

  She blinked up at me, seeing I was serious.

  Knowing we had plent
y of time to discuss me putting a baby in her stomach, I changed the subject.

  “I want a new deal.”

  Her softened expression morphed into a petulant scowl I struggled not to laugh at.

  “There was never a ‘deal’ in the first place. If there was, you already screwed up your side of it. You haven’t told––.”

  “Just watch the video and then here me out,” I interrupted, taking a seat beside her.

  Hitting play, the screen switched from blue to the vividly clear footage of a seafood restaurant.

  I’d seen the scene in this footage unfold out at least ten times, analyzing it over and over to be clear I understood what was happening.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

  Her mother sat in a private booth with Elena’s uncle.

  There was no mistaking what they were doing. Samuel was whispering in her ear and planting along her jawline.

  This went on for three minutes before her father, Ricardo, entered the building.

  Even without sound, it was obvious he was pissed. Who wouldn’t be? He approached the table and words were exchanged.

  “She doesn’t even care,” Elena murmured.

  “She never did,” I replied, watching her mother laugh and then smile, waving Ricardo off. Samuel tried to speak and was promptly shut down.

  Whatever they were saying began drawing the attention of the other patrons inside the establishment. Ricardo’s final words had the smile dropping from his wife’s face as he stormed away.

  The video cut out after he exited the restaurant.

  “Was it him? Is that what you wanted to show me?

  “My father killed her didn’t he?” Elena rushed out, “Because she slept with his brother––their brother?”

  I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. That was one way to perceive the scene she’d just witnessed, it wasn’t true, but it still held weight.

  “He didn’t kill her, though I can see why you would think that. Samuel isn’t his real brother just like Molly wasn’t your real aunt.”

  She turned her head to look at me, confusion and sadness marring her flawless features.