Keeping My Captive by Angela Snyder

CHAPTER36

Aria

I’M IN THE kitchen angrily eating a piece of bread and glaring at Mateo — or as I now call it, my new favorite pastime. I still can’t believe I willingly offered my virginity to him last night. It all feels like a strange, vivid dream. But when I clench my thighs together, I can still feel him down there, and I know it wasn’t a dream at all.

And when the bastard looks in my direction, he gets an indecipherable look on his face. His eyes are dark and hooded as if he’s remembering being inside of me. And when he licks his lips, my core clenches when I think about how his mouth was on me…down there…only several hours before.

I gasp, almost choking on the bread in my mouth. Coughing, I stand up and scamper out of the kitchen, leaving him and my dirty thoughts behind.

I need space. I need time to think. I need… Well, I don’t know what the hell else I need, but I know that I definitely need to get away from Mateo for a while.

So I lost my virginity. Big deal, right? But the more I think about it, the more of a big deal it actually becomes. I didn’t just lose my virginity last night. I voluntarily gave it up to my captor. The very man who is holding me hostage.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask out loud as I round the corner and run smackdab into the middle of a hard chest. I bounce backwards, barely managing to catch my balance and save myself from falling.

“Did I do something to offend you?” a deep voice with a thick Spanish accent asks.

When I look up, I see someone who looks like an older version of Mateo. In fact, they could almost pass for father and son, but I know that Mateo’s father is dead. He told me before that his family was murdered, so who could this man be who looks almost like a carbon copy of him? “I’m sorry. I was…talking to myself,” I admit.

“Oh. Then you did something to offend yourself?” he asks with a smirk. He runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, which is gray at the temples, as his dark brown eyes study my face.

I shift my weight nervously from foot to foot, feeling suddenly very vulnerable under his heavy, scrutinizing gaze. I open my mouth to answer him, but then I hear Mateo call out, “Domingo,” from down the hall. Mateo approaches us, his intense gaze glued to me for an instant before he plasters a forced smile onto his face and greets the man I now know as Domingo. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“What? I can’t visit my nephew a day early?” he asks with a strained grin.

So, this is Mateo’s uncle. Why do they seem to be forcing their affection towards each other then? I don’t understand the mechanics of their relationship, but even an outsider can feel the obvious tension in the air between them.

“Introduce me to your new…friend,” Domingo says, emphasizing the last word while turning his attention back to me.

“This is Aria,” Mateo offers. “She was just going to her room,” he says, narrowing his eyes on me.

I know better than to make a scene or question him right now. Instead, I nod in agreement and practically run away from the two of them towards our bedroom.

When I finally reach the safety of the room, I close the door behind me. Something isn’t sitting well in my stomach after meeting Mateo’s uncle. The way he looked at me. The way they spoke with each other. The overwhelming sense of tension between them. And the way Mateo said about me going to my room as if we don’t sleep in the same one.

Something’s not adding up, and I intend on finding out the truth.