Page 84 of Reign of the Queen
"What are you doing, Mateo?" she questions with a giggle.
"Graffitiing this sexy ass with my name." I chuckle.
Someone clears their throats behind us, and we both freeze up. I drape my body over Mia's to block her from whoever is behind us. Turning my head I see Theo just standing there, eyes dark, jaw and fists clenched. The look on his face is murderous, anger vibrating from his frame. A part of me wants to taunt him a little to see if he’ll explode but not at the risk of pissing off or embarrassing Mia.
"Not to interrupt your fucking art lesson out here, but you two might want to get dressed and come back inside. Tom just let me know your grandmother is on her way from the private airstrip. She'll be here in a few minutes," Theo spits out, emotion riding high in his voice. Whirling around he walks back into the house, his back rigid.
"Shit." I drop my head to Mia's shoulder. We completely lost ourselves out here, forgetting where we were and all the people around us. I quickly scan the courtyard with my eyes, making sure no one else was watching—like one of the security guards. I'm so stupid for getting carried away like this. Putting Mia and myself, not to mention the other guys, at risk.
"I'm sorry, Mia. I don't know where my head was at." I move away from her, so she can stand up and pull her pants back over her delectable, golden ass.Fuck, I need to take a bite out of that golden globe, one day soon.My cock twitches at just the thought.
Once she has her pants back firmly in place, she leans down to my face, grabs a fistful of my hair, and drags my face up to her waiting one. Kissing me hard and deep, our tongues tangling and heat rising again between us. She pulls back, stares at me for a moment, then pecks me lightly. I can’t read the expression on her face; she’s hiding her feelings from me once again.
"I'm not sorry, Mateo, and you shouldn't be either. We did nothing wrong." With another quick kiss on my lips, she walks away and heads back inside the house, leaving me on the lounge chair with my cock still semi-hard, my cum spilled on the fabric, and my heart thundering.
I smirk to myself, she just walked away with my heart and soul and doesn't even realize it.I’m so fucked.I let out a chuckle. At least I won’t be alone. It looks like Theo’s just as fucked as I am. I tidy myself up and stand looking at the ocean, taking a deep inhale of clean air. She holds all the power now, there is no going back for me. She holds my heart firmly in her grasp, I just hope she doesn’t use that to destroy me.
I walk back into the living room to find Theo leaning against a wall. Anger, jealousy, and aggression radiates from him even from a distance. Damn it, I don't have time right now to soothe his caveman tendencies, and I will not apologize for fucking Mateo. It's none of his business; he doesn't control or own me. He better get that through his thick possessive skull now.Liar!Myconscience chastises me.Some part of you likes the fact that he’s possessive.
Why? Why the fuck did I allow that to happen? Why after all this time, all these plans did I have sex with Mateo? Something is wrong with me, my self-preservation is MIA. I'm growing weak where these kings are concerned; first Theo, then Carter, and now Mateo. My judgment is becoming skewed, and I don't like it one bit. It’s one thing to try to make them fall in love with me using their infatuation so that I can control them. That’s not what happened out there just now though.
I wanted him—wanted Mateo—so much so that I let my guard completely down. My desire to soothe the fear and self-loathing he was rapidly descending into, to let him know that his mental health is nothing to be ashamed of. That there is strength in being broken. His vulnerability calls to something deep inside of me, something that is just as broken as he is.
All my pieces were broken all those years ago, my soul crushed and my faith in the goodness of humanity almost extinguished. It’s taken me years of fighting my own thoughts, learning to cope with my insecurities and rise above them to survive. I have done my best to put as many of those shattered pieces back as possible to create this new Mia and leave Amelia behind. While they have mostly fit, some are so jagged and sharp that they’ll hurt anyone that comes too close.
Mateo can be cruel like the other three, of that I have no doubt, having experienced his cruelty in the past firsthand. But there is also something innately gentle about him, something broken inside of him that calls to me to try to fix him. I try to bring up memories of his past cruelty, his taunts and actions that left vicious scars on my heart and soul. The thoughts don’t rise, only the image of his face out on that lounge chair, the fear in his eyes, the sadness in his soul.
Why do I want to fix him? No, I want to ruin him. That’s why I came back here. Why is my mind a cyclone of thoughts and feelings where these kings are concerned?Get your shit together Mia! Sex, it was just great sex, nothing more. You can’t let them get to you. They almost broke you once. Are you willing to give them a second attempt at it?I'm going to have to examine these thoughts in-depth more closely later, when the storm of my grandmother isn't about to hit.
I can only deal with one pressing issue at a time; my biggest problem right now is my grandmother's arrival with war and destruction already on her mind. Fear and anticipation skate down my spine. Have you ever wondered why hurricanes are named after women? You wouldn't if you had ever met my Grandmother Stella.
Mateo steps back into the room, leaning his back against the closest wall, color still riding his high cheekbones, and his smokey green eyes meeting mine. A wave of desire has my needy core clenching again.Mia, get your shit under control, you horn dog.
"Where's Tom?" I ask the brooding kings in the room. Finn gives me an assessing look from his prone position on my couch, and I can tell either Theo told him what Mateo and I were doing or he has an excellent guess. I don’t have time for this shit, for their jealousy to make this situation even more difficult.
"He's out at the gate waiting for your grandmother. She should be here any minute," Finn replies in a weary tone. His dark eyes are pinched and bloodshot. Lines of exhaustion and strain cross his handsome features. He sits up and runs his hands through his cropped hair in agitation.
We hear voices coming through the entryway and heading in our direction. My grandmother's heels make a sharp staccato noise on the stone tile as she comes toward us. The minute she appears in the open entry of the living room area, I can see the fury across her features.
Shit, we all might die today; she really is on the warpath. I look behind her, hoping my stepsister is with her to help me calm her down. No such luck, it seems. Isabella has too much self-preservation to put herself in the path of my grandmother's displeasure.
Stella's dark brown hair is streaked with gray and pulled back into a sleek chignon, her makeup light and impeccable and her blue eyes bright with fury. She always reminds me ofScarlet O’harafromGone with the Windwith her sharp looks. The slate gray Tom Ford suit she’s wearing does nothing to hide the coiled tension in her frame, her suits are her battle armor, and it looks like she came ready to decimate her opponent.
"Mia, my darling!" she calls out as she narrows her assessing gaze on me, no doubt judging my clothing choices, bare feet, and poor choice of companions. Disapproval crosses her face quickly before it disappears, and she masks her thoughts once again.
I move toward her quickly, reaching to give her cheeks each a small peck. "Grandmother, I'm sorry I woke you, and you had to come here from Manhattan."
"Nonsense. A threat to my granddaughter is a threat to me," she declares, staring down each of the remaining kings with an intense glare that would bring any man to his knees. That, gentleman, was a reminder and a veiled threat if I ever heard one.I hope you assholes are paying attention.
"Tell me, granddaughter, who are these young men, and what has happened?" She moves farther into the room like a coiled viper ready to strike. Theo's the first to approach her, his shoulders squared and his head held high, exuding power, wealth, and strength.
"Theo Saint-Lambert." He extends his hand out.
My grandmother looks at his hand with disdain, nods, and moves her eyes onto the other two kings in the room, dismissing him entirely. Theo’s mouth opens and closes with no sound and lets his hand drop to his side. His facial features fall into the statue mask he often wears so no one can read him. I almost feel sorry for him, but then I remember all the times he made me feel like shit when I was younger, and I turn away.
Finn stands up from the couch and comes closer, not bothering to make Theo's mistake; he nods respectfully but doesn't extend his hand. "Finn Barrie-Chelmsford, Mrs. Stratford."
"I've had the pleasure of meeting your father, Finn, a very shrewd businessman," Stella acknowledges and turns her sights on Mateo. "And you are?"
