Page 76 of Seeking Vengeance

But I promised myself I’d lean into happiness despite the obstacles. That I’d take what I could while I could, until the first glimpses of drama surfaced. And this self-righteous asshole won’t talk me out of it.

“I thought you were meant to be making up for a bad first impression.” I clutch my toiletry bag under my elbow and force a smile as I saunter back into the main room.

“Yeah…” He shrugs. “Doesn’t really seem like my thing, does it?”

I laugh. “I actually think you nailed your first impression. In hindsight you were authentic. You came across as a bully, and it’s now clear that’s exactly what you are.”

“I’m no bully, sweetheart. I’m a loyal friend. There’s a difference.”

I continue to the bed, shove my toiletry bag into the suitcase, and swing around to face him, his attitude scraping against the nerves already made raw by my brother. “I’m here in D.C. for no other reason than to spend time with Matthew. What I do in Denver is my business. I don’t want his help. Or yours, for that matter.”

“You were never getting mine.”

I fight a wince at how easily he loathes me without even knowing me. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“You’re welcome.” He drops his arms to his sides and pushes from the cabinet to stand tall. “You ready to leave?”

“I need to get a few things from the safe. Can you give me a minute?”

He gifts me with another appraising look, still finding me lacking. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

I follow a few minutes behind,catching up to him in the parking lot.

We don’t speak again. Not on the short drive back to Matthew’s penthouse building. Not even when we ride the elevator. He keeps quiet, swinging open the penthouse door and holding it wide for me to proceed, then slamming it closed with him on the other side.

“Great,” I mutter.

Without a key, I’m effectively caged in. Again. But I’m not going to go chasing Bishop about it.

I busy myself for the rest of the afternoon by getting changed, then familiarizing myself with the many rooms in Matthew’s home. I open every door, careful not to snoop, but eager to learn more about him.

I admire the expensive artwork decorating the walls and the books on the shelves. I use the jacuzzi in his main bathroom and research his clubs online. I drink coffee on the balcony and text Stella to send her my love. And all the while, I fight against rerunning my conversation with Bishop this morning on a continuous loop.

Even here, away from my family and the mistakes of my past, I’m still the bad guy.

Bishop knows it.

Iknow it.

But as soon as Matthew returns that night, his grin subtle despite the unfiltered appreciation in his eyes, all my worries fade.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He drags me into his chest, his mouth roughly claiming mine. “You look stunning.”

Ifeelstunning.

I’m wearing white tailored pants and a mauve halter-neck top, yet he makes it seem like I’m dressed for a red-carpet event instead of dinner.

“I need to freshen up.” He speaks against my lips between hungry kisses and scrapes of teeth. “Help me get undressed?”

I smile, my eyes closed, my heart in heaven.

He didn’t just need help undressing. He wanted assistance bathing, too. He dragged me into the shower with him, his focus on learning more of my body instead of freshening up his own.

But this time it didn’t feel like sex.

It was something different. Something that started off voracious and passionate, then petered into a slower connection that was far more intense. He lavished me in slow kisses, one hand cradling my chin, the other between my thighs. He murmured his dreamy Italian promises between strokes of tongue and grinds of hips.

He made love to me, and it made me realize I’d been a virgin to the experience up until this point.

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