Runaway Wolfes of Manhattan Three - Helen Hardt Page 0,63
kiss me. You want it. I want it. What’s more, I need it right now. I need to feel the beauty in the world, and Matt, the only time I’ve ever felt it was when I was with you.”
“Oh, God, baby.” His lips came down on mine with a force I wasn’t expecting.
I opened for him, and we kissed deeply, passionately.
But he pulled back once more.
His eyes were sunken and sad. “Baby…”
“Matt, please…”
“I… can’t. Not until we get you the help you need. I can’t take advantage of you.”
“What advantage? I’m giving you the advantage!”
“But you—”
“Matt, we’ve already done this, and you didn’t know about my past then.”
“But I know now, and if I’d known—”
“But you didn’t. I need you, and I know you need me just as much.”
“God, yes. I do.”
I rose and pulled him to his feet. “We’re going to bed.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here.” I led him to my bedroom.
“What happened here?” he asked.
Shit. I’d forgotten in my lust. My bedding was strewn on the floor, and my top sheet ripped into two halves.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Come on, Riley.”
It came back to me with a vengeance. No more lies. I loved this man, and he deserved the truth.
“I… I tore my bed apart. Remembering…” Tears welled in my eyes.
Maybe Matt was right. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. Words poured out of my mouth.
“He used to make me put brown sheets on my bed, because any other color…”
Matt pulled me back into his arms. “I get it. You don’t have to say it.”
“You can’t bear to hear it?’
“No, I can’t, but I can bear it if you can. I’m trying to protect you, Riley. Can’t you see that?”
I pulled away. “I want you to go.”
“No. I’m staying.”
“If you’re not going to make love to me, I don’t want you here.”
“I’m not going to make love to you. Not after what you’ve been through today. But I’ll stay, and I’ll hold you. I’ll cook you dinner. I’ll remake your bed and tuck you in. I’ll lie beside you and protect you. And I’ll have a fucking hard-on the whole damned time, because I love you and I ache for you, but tonight is not the night to touch you.”
“Even if I want it?”
“Even if you want it.”
And just like that, I realized he was right.
Right on the nose.
I didn’t want to make love to make love, I wanted to make love to escape.
Matt deserved better than that, and so did I.
40
Matteo
“I understand,” she finally said.
“Tell me, then. What can I do for you? Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Did you eat at the wake?”
“Are you kidding? Not a bite.”
“Then I’m making you something.” He rose and walked into the kitchen.
I followed him. “I’m afraid my fridge is empty.”
“We’ll go out, then.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to go anywhere. I look like a freak with these swollen red eyes.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re beautiful, but your wish is my command. We’ll order in. What kind of food do you like? I know you love Mexican.”
“Are you kidding? No Manhattan Mexican place can equal the stuff Mrs. Carson made.”
“Indian, then? Italian? You name it.”
“I don’t care. You pick something.”
“You got it.” I fired up my phone, found an Italian place close by, and ordered two servings of lasagna to be delivered along with salads and bread.
“Now,” I said. “Let’s take care of that bed.” I walked to the bedroom.
She’d torn her top sheet in half. I wasn’t sure how she did it. It was ripped neatly at the seam, which must have taken some brute strength to start.
I imagined Riley could do whatever she set her mind to, and her mind had been set on ripping that sheet.
“Extra sheets?” I asked.
She gestured to the bathroom. “There’s a linen closet in there.”
I found the bedding quickly and re-sheeted her bed. Then I put the comforters and blankets back on. “Good as new.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Did he…? Here?”
She shook her head. “No. Never here. Always on his terms. Here would have given me too much power.”
“Why didn’t you take the power, Riley?” I hated myself for asking the question. I knew better. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She looked down, unable to meet my gaze. “I don’t know. I’ll never be able to answer that question, Matt.”
“I shouldn’t have asked it. It was unfair of me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It was a fair question, and one I’ve asked myself millions of times. He had some kind of sick hold on me.” She sighed. “You’re right. I