Page 8 of Wait for You

His scent was the same. Despite knowing what to expect, she was powerless against his pull. Always had been. With Mat’s mouth moving on hers, a cozy warmth seeped into her veins. It was as soothing as slipping into a hot bath.

Kissing Mat felt like coming home.

Is this even real?

The old fire that burned between them rekindled, but doubts crept in.

Why is he kissing me?

His tongue teased her lips while her mind whirled with questions. When his palms cupped her face, the flames built higher, and she worried they’d consume what remained of her heart, leaving her an empty shell after the fire burned itself out.

Lifting her hands, she placed them flat on Mat’s chest and attempted to push him away. But he held her fast.

Before she could object, someone cleared their throat. They’d intended for it to be loud, but it was a crack of thunder in the silence. The noise cut through her hazy awareness, clearing her head. She blinked and found herself caught in the storminess of Mat’s stare.

Like the sky after a summer downpour, his eyes flashed with heat lightning, even as the throat-clearer spoke. “El Jaguarwants to see you.”

Mat didn’t take his gaze off her as he answered, “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

Imogen tried to step back, but Mat didn’t release her. One of his hands was tangled in her hair—When had he unwound it from her bun?—the other cupped her cheek. A shiver made her twitch against his hold when she realized she had no idea. How lost had she been in that kiss?

Mat continued to block the speaker’s view of her as the man said, “He demanded I bring you.”

Mat’s expression shifted so quickly she almost gasped. With a deadly growl, he turned on the speaker. “Then wait the fuck outside!”

With her view no longer obstructed, she caught the man’s flinch before he silently turned for the door. She could’ve winced in sympathy. This terrifyingnarcoin a sharp suit was a stranger to her. He might smell like her Mat, but he wasn’t. Not anymore.

Only after the door had shut behind the man did Mateo look at her.

A hardness had settled over his features. It was foreign enough to have her hugging her arms across her chest while she put some space between them. When he didn’t speak, the silence became unbearable.

“Don’t you have to go?” She’d meant to bark the question at him, but her voice came out as thin as a reed, tangled threads of emotion strangling her words.

“Yes.” His stare assessed her, and he looked like he wanted to say more. “Will you stay here? Our conversation ain’t over.”

Conversation, ha!That’s not what he meant, and she knew it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” At least now she’d put some authority back into her voice.

The man outside grew tired of waiting because he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Please, Gen.”

The soft plea gave her pause. She chewed her lip as Mat’s eyes begged her to stay. Her heart wanted her to but her head . . . it knew better.

He glanced at the door and added, “Give me fifteen minutes. Then we’ll talk.”

Her hands smacked her hips,skeptical of his words. “Talk?”

“Just talk. I promise.” He backed toward the door with hooded eyes. “If you’re gonna stay, we need to go over some things.”

“Oh.” She lost her defensive stance. So he did really mean a conversation. Why did that leave her feeling disappointed? Sheshouldbe relieved. “Okay. Fine.”

After a nod, Mat gave her one more assessing stare before he left the suite.

Confused by the kiss, she sank back into the chair by the fireplace. From the sitting area, she could see his bedroom through the open door along the far wall.

Dark satin sheets lay tangled half on the floor, and Imogen frowned, wondering exactly how they’d gotten that way. She remembered tangling their fair amount of sheets together and the idea of him doing so with anyone else sparked an ember of jealousy that she tried to tamp out.

He’s not yours anymore, chica.

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