by Amarie Avant
Chapter Eighteen
Aria
The next morning, instead of returning home from Roslyn’s place, I find myself at Dominic’s home. My place is a few blocks up the shore. I tell myself the need to help El Santo’s victims is the reason I’ve made the impromptu visit. I’ve showered and dressed in another one of Ros’s not-too-flashy ensembles. I look good.
“I’m only here because Dominic’s Cuban,” I tell myself. “I’ll inquire about the butterflies and their connection to his culture. That is all.”
I strut up the clay tile toward wrought iron gates. The select few times I’ve taken photos of him in the past, I climbed the stucco wall where the décor descended like steps.
At the gate, I hesitate at the thought of pressing the buzzer when the front door opens. A Latina in purple nurse’s scrubs saunters out. Shocks of long curly blonde hair whip across her face as she wheels a rollaway.
Dominic clasps her elbow. Too many emotions cross his face, which is equally as torn as hers. Assumptions fly through my mind. This is his woman.
Damn, he is in a relationship. Did she catch him—
Something crashes out of the front door. Yup! She caught him in the act! Whoever is inside made an entire ruckus.
The nurse came by. Now, she’s leaving because she caught him in bed with whoever is in the house. He’s groveling. Dominic stops, his eyes searing into mine.
It’s too late to pretend to have just been jogging by. So much for looking cute. I grit my teeth.
“Aria!” he calls out to me, hustling down the driveway. “Dammit, Carlotta!” He punches the air as the nurse’s BMW coupe comes zipping down the lane. The wrought iron gate begins to open. “Aria, wait!”
I turn on a ridiculous pair of heels and continue back out to the street.
“I said, ‘wait!’ ”
Though I intended to ignore him wholly, I chuckle, while having to stop to let a car pass by.
“If I have to chase you, chula, I will pick you the fuck up and carry you inside.”
“With who?” I grit, pausing as another luxury vehicle zips down the road. I wish I had a roaring engine, instead of a quiet, steady car. With all I knew about him before, this was predictable. But I want to speed away, leaving the putrid scent of rubber in the air.
I stalk across the street, yank my car door open. It’s pushed shut.
“You’re coming inside,” Dominic orders. “You came by for a reason, mami.”
“Wow. Nurse Betty—” I zip my mouth shut. There was nothing Betty about her. “First, you have one woman leaving. What am I? Second choice since you couldn’t smooth-talk your fantasy back into the house. Ha! You like ‘em crazy. Whoever is making all that noise in the house, must be muy, muy crazy!” I glare back at the door as something else is hurled out. “You don’t need company.”
“He’ll calm down in a second.”
“He!” My eyes expand.
“Aye Dios.” Dominic chuckles. “You’re reading into the situation. Mi hermano, Dario.”
God, nobody ever accused me of being psychic. I clear my throat. “Ahem, your brother is throwing a tantrum?”
“Sí. No love triangle, mami.” He holds a hand out to me. Something else flies out, crashing along the red clay driveway. Dominic grimaces. “Eh, I believe he’s done. Let’s walk slow, though.”
“How old is your brother?” I imagine a pock-faced teen his parents can no longer handle, but remember their mother is gone.
“Thirty-six, same as me.”
Astonished, I gasp. “Your twins?”
“Sí. But you and I have a better connection at the moment. The nurse who left had worked with Dario. He can’t feel shit from the waist down. Car crash five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah? I’m tired of his attitude. A few years back, Dario and Carlotta got a little too close.” Dominic drags his hands over my arms. The sentiment anchors my anxiety and stops me from running. “I’m not sure if it was a fear of walking again, but Dario pushed her away. He was more alive than ever while Carlotta worked for him. He almost felt something.”
Dominic stares deep into my eyes. “Almost felt something” reverberates in my ears. What did his twin brother almost feel at the hands of Nurse Carlotta? Speechless, I lose myself in his gaze, ready to feel something too.
Chapter Nineteen
Dominic
Aria leans against the backdoor of her sedan in contemplation. I hadn’t meant for Dario’s tragedy to soften our tension. I’m the hunter. She’s my prey. But now, my hermano’s story dangles between us.
The warmth is causing the dominant in me to lose sight of the reason I connected to her. I tell myself not to manipulate her emotions, but I step closer to her, craving on the rise.
“Cars zip through here, careless drivers. Come in, Aria, talk to me.”
My cock strains as she licks her flustered lips. When we’d met, she was wearing pajama pants that hugged at the curve of her pussy. Envisioning licking her, tasting every inch of her, sends a hard sigh running through me. The part where Dario’s fucked-up life shouldn’t be my in into this woman’s crazy reality has disappeared. I want her bad. Fuck morals. Innocence is standing before me, and I will have my taste. I soften my tone, “Come inside, mami.”
Aria stops leaning against the doorframe. Her facial expression begs me for space. Relentless, I stand my ground. She groans. “You’re busy. I dropped by unannounced. Remember, I don’t apologize. So, here’s your chance to read between the lines.”
“Do something for me. I’ll forgive you.”
She presses at my chest with one hand. The other is on the driver’s door handle. “Do what?”
I collect both her hands into mine. “Come inside.”
She stares at me like I’m the big, bad wolf. It’s like my lair is off-limits, a danger to her sanity. Damn, I need the key to unlock her hesitation.
Aria works her tiny fingers in mine, but I clasp firm. Glaring at me now, she says, “One question, Dominic, since you’re hellbent on holding me hostage.”
“Tell me your question inside.” I smile as she turns her glower at our entwined hands. “Now. Or we can make dinner of it.”
“A date?” She cocks her brow.
I let her go, hiding a smile. She’s easy to fuck with. “Aye, date, sí, no? Whatever you need it to be.”
As suspected, something in Aria falls, but I pick it right back up. “I adore anytime you’re in my presence. But if you need to give it a title. Let’s go on a date now. You won’t be disappointed.” Pre-cum seeping, the animal in me is ready to pounce.
A peach tone flush highlights across her brown skin. Aria opens the door to her car. She shifts back toward me as if having taken a breath to settle her nerves. “How about you answer my question, Dom, then I take you to dinner.”
“Don’t insult me.” I glare at her. A woman pay for dinner? Fuck that. I’m Cuban. “My treat. I’ll answer your questions, fulfill your unspoken desires. How does that sound, chula?”
She folds her hands across her chest. “Whatever, Dominic. You can be smooth. I’ll be cheesy. So, I’ll trade your machismo for the cliché my way or the highway. Dinner. My place. Seven p.m. You still have the address, stalker?”
“Your place it is.” I wink. The glimmer in my eyes warns that home-field advantage is not saving you from me.
When I returned, Dario had taken the wheelchair lift at the second set of stairs. I haven’t seen him since he laid eyes on Carlotta while in the kitchen. He called her a puta and told her to leave. Before they bonded, my hermano had called her everything under the sun. It was like he had done with the nurses before her. Carlotta stuck it out. Now, I suspect it’ll be a week before he comes down. He has his replacement meals in a kitchenette upstairs—all he needs. I fry croquettes and leave the tray outside his room before heading out.
I’ve found a parallel spot almost half a mile from Aria’s building when her phone number pops up on the screen. I press
the answer button, positioning my car to park.
“Hey . . .” Her voice is hesitant.
“Hey, you, mami.”
“How far away are you? Maybe we should postpone dinner.”
“Where are you?” My mouth curls up, and I shake my head, watching Aria park her car two spots ahead. Her space is almost double the size of mine, but her maneuvering is worse.
“Had a busy day. I’m tired.”
“You promised me a good meal.” I silently close my door and walk over.
“Good meal? Who said I could cook? You’re assuming like I did earlier.”
She’s climbing onto her knees, grabbing something on the front passenger floor. I’m mesmerized by her ass. I respond. “Okay, I’ll cook.”
“Not an option, Dominic. I’m from Texas. That’s bad hospitality.” Aria continues to reach, oblivious to her surroundings. “You’d have your choice of lasagna, meatloaf, fried chicken. All frozen. I can’t do that to you. Let’s reschedule.”
“Turn around.”
“What the—” Aria places a hand on her chest, then climbs out of the car. She pushes at me as I stand my ground, right in her space. “You must be stalking me now.”
“I’m not. There was no parking any closer.”
“Humph, I didn’t even consider trying my luck.” Through thick lashes, she looks up at me. “But still, my gram taught me hospitality. I was sidetracked today. So, postponing would be nice.”
“Aye, no. I promised to cook.” I cock my head to my ride. “I have groceries.”
Shock shines across Aria’s face as she removes a duffle bag.
“Let me.” I start for it.
“I’m good. Don’t be so chivalrous. You’re bringing food to my house. That’s, ahem, very kind of you.”
Ten minutes later, we're standing in the middle of a slate gray kitchen. Aria’s shoulders are heavy, disappointment evident in her eyes. Something happened after we parted ways earlier.
“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?” Aria glances down at her tight pants and blouse while uncorking a glass of wine.
“Should I join you?”
“You never miss an opportunity. Hard no. Now, listen up, Dominic.” The spirited woman who crossed me rises. She starts pointing toward the cabinets. “These are mine. Don’t touch anything, I mean anything, from there to there. I mean, even if you need a pinch of salt. Don’t do it.”
“No salt. Got it.”
Aria stops sauntering to the door to glare back at me. “Your smooth talk won’t save you from my wrath if you do. Also, I’ll need your services, pro bono, of course, after my assault charges.”
“I wouldn’t press charges, Aria.”
She winks. “No, not you, Dom. Messy Mir—ahem, my roommate.”
The smile on her face falls the second she turns around. I hold my wine in my hand, contemplating the woman I only know on paper. She has secrets. I want to see the world through her eyes.
Deliberation consumes her. I catch up to Aria as she pulls her shirt over her head while entering her room. She’s muttering about a mistake when turning around to grab the double doors.
Her eyes land on mine. As if I won’t fuck her to an audience, Aria leaves the doors open. “You’re supposed to be cooking. Dom, I’m sorry about—”
I lean against the wall, leg locked about the ankle. “Damn, you apologized, chula.”
“Yeah, now I regret it.” At her own attempted joke, her mouth lifts at the edges. Moments later, it crumples. “I- let’s do this another day, okay? I’m not feeling—anything.”
“Live life, mami, fuck regrets. Here, I’ll give you a quick lesson.” I clasp her cheeks.
Her lips quiver in suspense. “Dom—”
Welded against Aria, I frame her face and take a satisfying nibble of her bottom lip. Revenge for my sexual frustrations.
With her breath teasing across my skin, her expression melts. I grasp her close, skimming my knuckles along the thin material covering her breast. The space between us no longer exists. By my calculations, I could fuck any orifice of Aria’s body at this precise moment. I can. I will. Not yet.
I press a kiss to her lips. It’s soft at first, building along with the adrenaline running through me. Drinking in every detail of her features, I drop my mouth along her two chocolatey mounds. Using my hands as fists, I hoist her breasts together.
A low groan builds in my throat as I pull one breast out and lick across her nipple. Aria’s hands slam back against the wall as if she’s catching herself from falling. Leaving my face between her breasts, I groan. Not yet, idiota, I warn myself.
Though my hands won’t cease roaming across her curves, I growl, “I shouldn’t care about you, Aria. I’ve only ever had one motive when it came to a woman. But you are all in my fucking head.”
She’s a soft, trembling mess beneath my fingertips. Satiation is around the corner. Yet a foreign need to give a damn, forces me to ask, “Where were you earlier?”
“Nowhere.”
My knuckles drag back up her see-through bra. They slide up her collarbone until my palms control her neck; my thumb strokes her throat.
“Don’t lie to me, chula. When I arrived, you had no sense of your surroundings. Sexy ass advertised for any man to see while looking around your car. I don’t refer to you as chula just because, which implies you are trouble. I have no desire to give a damn, yet your actions push me to it. So, where were you?”
Aria’s pretty brown gaze lowers. Her breath tickles at my chest. “You’re not my boss, Dominic.”
“Okay, then. Tell me you were just out, mami. Nothing dangerous.”
“Nothing dan—”
My thumb slides around until I’m tenderly squeezing her neck. I press kisses along her collarbone, and then my teeth sink gently into her pulse. “I said, be honest, chula. Unless you have a new muse?” Jealousy rips through me as I repeat myself, “Do you have a new muse?”
Chapter Twenty
Aria
“El Santo,” I murmur, intoxicated by the intense concern behind Dominic’s velvet green gaze. He declared how caring about a female was uncharted territory for him.
Why give a fuck about me? I didn’t save ReAnna. Didn’t stop her. My psyche evolved around the concept of this very sentiment. I grew up clothed in guilt; it’s the way my brain is set up now.
Dominic’s forehead kisses mine. “You are so motherfucking loca, mami. Stop getting into my head. Making me want to lock you up, throw away the key.”
He kicks the doors closed behind him. His hand is still at my throat, not constricting my breathing but holding me steady. He moves me against the limestone walls of my bedroom.
“Didn’t I tell you, the next time I have you at a wall, you’d climb up it. Did I mention you’d be screaming?”
A yip lurches in my throat as Dominic turns me around. His fingers knot into my hair and pull, baring the pulse in my neck to his lips. His other hand weighs on the top of my round ass.
“You must love to be afraid.”
He nips my earlobe. The bite sends a shuttered gasp through me. “Dominic,” I screech. Ask me a day ago if I’d ever consent to being bit, the answer would be hell no. Nevertheless, the first few bites were scintillating, sending tiny jolts along my pussy. Not this jealous vamp clamp he just issued.
“So, El Santo was always your muse. Not me.”
“Yes.”
“The mistake of your life, Aria.” Dominic yanks me away from the wall. His hand slips into my tight pants, making me bristle like a lone flower in winter. Hurt me pops into my thoughts. I hiss. Ari’, have you lost it?
Rough fingers press against my clit, pinching. On instinct, my ass slams against his erection. His palm massages the spot as he speaks Spanish, calling me all sorts of crazy and trouble. Fingers voyage across my aching folds, plunging into my walls.
With my nerve endings shot to hell, I writhe in his arms. Squeezing my eyes shut, I block out everything in the world that isn’t Dominic Á
ngel Alvarez. Back arched, I assist his furious plunges into my showering core. The orgasm, so shameful, fights for release.
“Dom,” I groan. Beautifully broken, my fingernails clench into his thick, muscular forearms. I buck against his hardness with each measured stroke. His other hand skims across my bra, unclasping the front with expert skill.
“Damn you, mami.” His lips graze the bare skin at the curve of my neck while he flicks his fingers to tease at my peak.
I climb over another release, panting and gasping for oxygen. Then I’m flipped around, pushed back against the wall. My legs situate around his thick waist, thighs squeezing in earnest. Dominic’s wet fingers slide into my mouth.
With my eyes shining in shock, Dominic commands, “Suck.”
Pure sexual drive consumes me. I twirl my tongue along the sugary confection I created. He thrusts his fingers in and out of my mouth, replacing it with his own mouth. His tongue drags in obsession around mine. He groans. “Sweet.”
Dominic presses into me, his chest assaultive against mine. I’m achy all over with a need I’ve never known, a need that can only be satiated by him. His featherlight fingertips trail across my breast, face hovering over mine.
“When I’m done with you, Aria, you will never have a muse again, aside from me.”
I grip my thighs around him, throat too heavy to retort. His face falls into my breasts, teeth sinking into my side cleavage before trailing the path of my nipples again.
“Oh god,” I groan. His tie slides off, blazer next, all the while he spears my body against the wall. My trembling fingers reach out to touch his buttons, but I snatch them back as if on fire.
“Do it,” Dominic says.
He steadies my fingers over his, and together we work at his buttons. I lick my lips, basking in the sight of the most gorgeous gift I’ve ever unwrapped. I run my hands along the length of his eight-pack while his linen shirt slides to the ground.
