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“Yes.”
“I think that’s child abuse.”
Matt chuckled. “I was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and she was gorgeous, submissive, and very good at feeding my ego. It didn’t feel like abuse. It just felt fucking good.”
“Matt—” she started.
Matt placed his fingers over her lips. “I know it was wrong, Liza, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. I told you how I felt about my father. At the time, it felt like just one more step in becoming the man I wanted to be. Him.”
“I know you think you’re like your father, but you’re nothing like him,” she insisted.
“I’m exactly like him. Cold, calculating, ruthless, remember?”
“In business,” she added, as if separating certain parts out would make it easier for her to accept.
“Trust me, those attributes carry over from my professional life to my personal. You’ve seen my relationship with my brothers. Strained doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“I have seen your brothers with you, so I know you could erase the strain in five minutes if you wanted to. Gage talks about you all the time, and whenever I’m at Enigma—which isn’t much, granted—you’ve been there with Conor. Why?”
“He likes to get my advice on business things.”
She raised her hand as if he’d just proven her point. “Because he respects your opinion.”
Matt considered her arguments. He’d built a wall around himself a long time ago, not to hide but to protect others he cared about.
What if he tore it down? Reached out to his brothers, tried to get back to what they had as kids?
No. That was something he could never do without coming clean about their past, and once that particular Pandora’s box was opened, he’d lose his brothers forever. Even if he didn’t have a close relationship with them, they were a part of his life. He couldn’t give that up, couldn’t give them up.
He sighed. “You’re going to have to understand that we’re not all Morettis. Most families share blood and very little else.”
Liza pursed her lips, obviously annoyed that she hadn’t swayed him. Mercifully, she let it go, placing her head back on his chest.
Silence prevailed for a few minutes, and he thought she’d fallen asleep until she spoke.
“You wanna know something, Matt?”
“What?”
“Your pillow talk sucks.”
He laughed loudly as Liza lifted her head once more.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.”
Matt knew that was the truth because it felt rusty as hell. Rusty, but good.
“You should laugh more often,” she said.
“Maybe you could help me with that…and my pillow talk.” He pushed her to her back once more, positioning his cock at her entrance, before placing a soft kiss on her cheek and whispering in her ear, “Let’s practice now.”
Chapter Fourteen
Liza and Devonte laughed as they did an over-the-top victory dance they were making up on the spot. Matt rolled his eyes at their antics, his arms crossed, drawing her attention to the way his sweat-drenched T-shirt clung to his muscular shoulders. That Superman “man of steel” descriptor seriously applied to Matt, or it would if the superhero had also sported a sexy, close-trimmed beard.
Matt was bulky and built, his abs, biceps, and all the other sexy muscles chiseled by hours spent in the gym lifting weights. Yesterday, she discovered he was a member of a boxing club and currently enjoying an impressive winning streak, undefeated in his last twelve matches.
However, Matt could not boast the same champion status at the Promise House. That title rested with Devonte, whose team was celebrating—according to Arnold—their eighth win in a row against Matt’s team.
