Page 28 of Deep In Love
“Were you going to use this?” he asks, his question low and intimate. The raspiness of his accent cranks the sexual tension dial to ten, and my knees wobble.
What thefuckis happening to me?
We don’t knee wobble for Mateo. I need to deflect, fast, to save myself from this situation.
“Are you shaming me for using a toy, Mateo? How veryarchaicof you. This is the twenty-first century.” Smug satisfaction floods my veins when he gulps. “Women enjoy sex as much, if not more, than men.”
His cocky grin falters, and I seize my opportunity, stealing the toy and returning it to my duffel bag.
“Now that you’ve groped my pleasure device,” I scold, and his face pales further, “I am going to the lab to see what they have for sample processing.”
He stands mute and baffled in the middle of the cramped cabin.
“Adios, Mateo,” I purr, squaring my shoulders and sauntering out the door to exude the idea I was unfazed by that interaction.
The door clicks shut, and I slump against the hallway, a shuddered breath escaping. I use the wall for stability while I take deep breaths to cool down my racing heartbeat.
I’m not going to survive in this small cabin—not with the mental image of Mateo holding my vibrator burned into my retinas.
Chapter 9
Mateo
I am a weak man consumed by thoughts of honey-blond hair splayed against maroon bed sheets.
A steady stream of frigid water batters my skin but does nothing to extinguish the fire coursing through my veins.
I brace my palm against the shower wall, slowly pumping the other up and down my shaft, bawdy thoughts of Charlie consuming every corner of my mind. A groan tumbles out as I imagine her legs falling open, her hand trailing down her stomach until she finds the apex of her thighs. I nearly crumble at the idea of watching that vibrator dipping in and out of her.
Weak, wanton man.
The pressure at the base of my spine compounds as I stroke myself, every titillating fantasy of Charlie beneath me, on top of me, writhing beneath my tongue, flashing across my mind.
My head drops against the beige plastic shower wall as I barrel closer to completion. Those Caribbean-blue eyes, a window into her thoughts, fill my vision, and I combust.
The sound of her voice calling my name echoes in my mind while I orgasm. Only once the high fades do I realize her voice wasn’t a part of my fantasy.
“Mateo!”
Two bangs rattle the bathroom door, and I nearly slip, scrambling to right myself before I land on my ass.
“One minute,” I yell, my voice hoarse. At lightning speed, I dry myself off and get dressed. I steal a few seconds to hype myself up in the mirror before returning to the room, where Charlie perches on the end of the bed, her foot tapping impatiently. “¿Qué pasa, bruja?”
I dawdle about the cramped room, and she tracks my movements.
“We have a safety briefing.” Her lips purse in dissatisfaction.
“Thank you for the reminder.”
She clicks her tongue. “We’re going to be late.” She doesn’t addbecause of you, but I hear it in her silence.
What I don’t understand is why she’s still here if she’s so anxious about it. She could have left, but instead, she’s stewing in her anxiety to wait for me.
It should mean nothing that Charlie waited so we could walk to the lounge together, but I am working on very little with her, so the likely meaningless action means something to me.
“I’m sorry, bruja.Let’s go.” I’m halfway out the door before I notice she hasn’t moved from the bed. Her face is scrunched in confusion in the most adorable way. “Charlie?”
She shakes from the stupor and pops off the mattress.
