Obsessed (The Protectors #13) - Sloane Kennedy Page 0,85

back just a little so he could see me, I whispered, “You, Sam. I belong to you. Forever and always.”

Sam’s hand came up to cup my cheek. His eyes looked wet as he slowly nodded his head. Then his mouth was on mine and I knew he’d heard me.

I knew he’d heard everything.

Chapter 26

Sam

Nothing had really changed and yet everything had changed.

Nothing had changed in the sense that Matias hadn't said those three little words I'd been hoping to hear. But I hadn't said them either.

From the outside, it would've looked like we had just picked up where we’d left off before Matias had walked out on me, but nothing was further from the truth. In that sense, everything really had changed. For starters, even though Matias hadn't told me he loved me, he'd said so many things as he’d held me in his arms and declared himself mine.

He was mine. But he was so much more than that. The man who'd barged into my life was once again at my side. He was the man I'd needed in the past ten days, but I hadn't known how to tell him that. I'd hated how he’d constantly apologized to me and meekly asked things of me rather than demanding them or insisting on them. He hadn't been the Matias I'd fallen in love with. I hadn't had the guts to just tell him that, though, so I’d behaved like an ill-mannered child. I definitely hadn't gone about it the right way, but I’d gotten what I wanted in the end.

We’d stayed in the bathtub for quite a while. Matias had carefully washed my entire body as I'd lain against his chest. We hadn't spoken at all, but it hadn't really mattered.

I'd been worried that once we got out of the tub, things would go back to the way they'd been in the early weeks of our relationship. But I'd known as soon as Matias had grabbed a couple of towels that things would be different. For starters, he'd dried me off and I’d done the same for him. Then he’d taken my hand in his and led me to my bed. It was early, so I hadn't planned on going to sleep, but I had waited for Matias to eventually get up and leave like he had in the past. But we’d been lying in bed for over an hour and he was still tucked up behind me, his arm around my chest and his mouth resting against the back of my neck. I could tell from his breathing that he wasn't asleep. There was also the fact that he kept pressing soft kisses to my neck and shoulder every few minutes.

"Tell me what it was like for you growing up," I said softly. I knew I was risking our newfound peace, but I desperately wanted to know more about the man I had fallen so deeply in love with.

"What do you want to know?"

"Where are you from?" I asked. It didn't surprise me in the least that Matias would need some prodding. I doubted he was used to talking about himself.

"My parents immigrated to America when Cruz and I were kids."

"From where?"

"Colombia."

I was glad that Matias kept rubbing his fingers over mine and nuzzling my skin. It meant he wasn't upset about sharing bits of himself with me.

"My father got a job at a factory. My mother cleaned houses. Neither of them spoke English, but they both believed in the American dream. They got the Mexican nightmare instead."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"They became second-class citizens. There was never enough money to pursue any kind of dream. We were looked down on because of the color of our skin and because of our last name. We were good enough to clean houses and work in fields and do all the menial labor that the people with the right color skin didn't want to do, but we weren't allowed to have a slice of that same pie. We became a cliché. A father who lost himself in a bottle every night, a mother who disappeared into her mind more and more, and two kids who didn't have a clue how to survive it all."

"Your father hurt you," I murmured. It was information I already knew, but despite the ugliness of the subject, I needed to hear all of it.

"We didn't talk in our household. For good reason. Our father liked quiet. If Cruz or I disturbed that quiet, we paid