Cocksure Ace

by Webster, K.

  “I told off your mom,” she reveals, her eyes flashing with horror. “Oh my God. I’m sorry.”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “Mamá can handle herself.”

  “She can,” she says, pouting. “She slapped me.”

  My eyes pop on. “What?”

  “I deserved it. I was being a total bitch.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” I grumble. “That was out of line.”

  “Don’t,” she mutters. “Seriously. I felt like a horrible person. The things I said to her…I would’ve slapped me too. It’s done. Let’s just enjoy the day.”

  That we do.

  Our conversation turns lighter over lunch. She loves the food and it’s a joy watching her smile so much. I learn she’s traveled all over the globe for work. This woman has literally been to more places than I have, which is saying a lot. Her apartment is on the fourteenth floor in her high-rise and she secretly likes it because technically she’s on the thirteenth floor (since the building doesn’t officially have a thirteenth floor for superstitious reasons) and she feels like she’s living on the edge. It’s cute as hell listening to her babble about her favorite show on the Discovery Channel—something about people living off the land in the Alaskan bush. She always goes out on Sundays for brunch with her dad and then ends up in a little bookshop near her loft apartment. After hours, she buys books on things she’ll never pursue, and adds them to her massive collection at home. I’m so transfixed by learning the intricacies of her, I don’t hear her say my name.

  “Earth to bird boy,” she grumbles. “Am I really that boring?”

  “What? No. I was trying to imagine what it was that a girl like you would want so badly that she’d buy books on it and then not pursue it. Aren’t you the woman who gets what she wants?”

  Her mouth parts. “That’s the one piece you plucked from all that?”

  “You’re fascinating. Tell me.”

  “We’re just friends for the day,” she says with a shrug. “That’s the sort of information you reserve for someone you love. And we simply don’t have enough time for love.”

  She’s mocking me, but I don’t see it as that.

  My heart squeezes.

  It’s a challenge.

  Damn her and her challenges.

  Sheridan

  This place has spectacular views and the food is amazing. I hate to admit it, but I’m glad Camilo dragged me out here. I’d had plans to mope around all day with Estefania. Now, I’m staring at the Pacific Ocean with the wind in my hair and sipping on beer with a hot pilot. Definitely better than moping.

  “You ready to get out of here?” Camilo asks, his lips quirked up on one side.

  “Depends. Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  His cheesy grin melts my icy heart a little. After he pays our tab, he takes my hand again and we descend the many stairs cut roughly into the side of the cliff. When we reach the sandy bottom, we kick off our muddy shoes. He peels off his shirt, showcasing all his tanned muscles and tattoos. His back is broad, and I note the scratches on his shoulders. My neck heats realizing I’m the one who put them there two nights ago.

  He glances my way, his dark brown eyes roaming over me in an appreciative way. A way no one has ever looked at me before. With one look, it’s as though I can read his thoughts. I’ve been inside you and I’m going to do it again. My skin is on fire from the scorching way he stares at me. Rather than letting him frazzle me, I shed my dress and take satisfaction in the way his smirk fades and he parts his lips.

  I’m wearing my favorite swimsuit. An Alliages Tungstène bandeau bikini in dark olive with gold bands holding the fabric together. It’s subtle as far as styles go, but I paid five hundred dollars for it, so I like getting use out of it.

  “Damn.”

  That’s all he says. One word. His eyes say a thousand things. You’re fucking hot. I want you. I’m going to kiss you until you’re dizzy. All I can do is grin victoriously at him. About time I shut the handsome pilot up.

  “Careful, abejita,” he purrs as he prowls over to me, his V muscles in his lower abdomen flexing with each step. My mouth waters. I’m unable to peel my eyes from the dark trail of hair that dips beyond his low-slung swim trunks.

  “Why?” I croak out.

  “Because you’re getting a big head. I’m the arrogant one around here, remember?”

  His hands find my hips and his thumbs rub maddening circles on my bare flesh just above the top of my bikini bottoms.

  “You’re not supposed to touch me.” I tremble at the way he caresses me.

  “Not part of the deal.”

  “What was the deal?”

  “I forgot already. Let’s swim.”

  While I’m dazed by his sexiness, he squats and then tosses me over his shoulder. I go from hot and bothered to furious in an instant.

  “Put me down, asshole!” I smack at his ridiculously hard ass. In return, he smacks mine. I squeal and kick to no avail. “You’re going to make me puke!”

  My words are cut short when we go airborne. Panic seizes me a second before chilly water sucks me into its void. Before I can freak out, we break the surface of the water and Camilo is pulling me to his chest. His dark hair hangs in his eyes—dark eyes that assess me to make sure I’m okay. I’m pissed he dunked us in this lagoon, but I find myself wrapping my legs and arms around him. He grins his stupid, cocky smile that makes my heart patter faster.

  “I hate you.”

  He laughs loud and flicks his head back, sending his hair out of his eyes. God, that move shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. “Hate, huh? I still have the rest of the day to turn that into love.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “I’ve been called worse. Mostly by you.”

  I roll my eyes and then take in the scene around us. It’s a small lagoon about the size of a backyard swimming pool. I’m not sure how deep it goes, but it’s almost completely surrounded by rock. There’s a little inlet small creatures could swim into, but not even the waves can get through. The water moves back and forth but nothing like the waves beyond the protective rocks. Beautiful vegetation grows in the rock crevices. It feels like an oasis.

  “It’s pretty here,” I murmur, bringing my attention back to Camilo, who’s staring at me intently.

  “You have no idea.” His voice is gruff.

  My stomach does a flip and I can’t help but cling tighter to him. His palms run up my back and then down again. Playfully, he squeezes my ass before swimming backward toward a rock ledge on the side. He pulls us onto it with me still straddling him. The water is cold, but his body is incredibly warm. I press my breasts against him, eager for his warmth.

  “In love yet?” he teases.

  “Close,” I joke back. I let out a heavy sigh. “Have you ever been in love?”

  He frowns, shaking his head. “No. You?”

  “I thought so, but now I don’t know.”

  “David?”

  We stare at each other for a long moment. I nod and absently run my fingers through his hair. His palms continue to roam up and down my back. I’ve never been held like this before. It’s strange, yet peaceful. My heart squeezes because I really like it.

  Reality reminds me this is one last day of romance and fun.

  Tomorrow I leave this all behind.

  I leave him.

  “It’s hard for me to connect with people,” I explain. “I have these walls up. All the time. I’m afraid of getting hurt, I guess. With David, he’s known me since I was little.”

  He makes a disgusted face. “Nice.”

  “It’s not like that,” I assure him. “He’s not a perv, but he knows a lot about me. Knows the me before I ever erected those walls. It’s easy to give myself to him because he already knows me. He already loves me.” But he’s not in love with me. David would do anything in his power to help me because of Daddy.

  “Hmm.” His brows furrow as he studies me. “Easy sounds boring.”
<
br />   A chuckle escapes me. “Maybe a little.”

  “I’m not boring.” He flashes me a wicked grin that makes me melt.

  “I know. You’re too difficult.”

  The asshole preens.

  “Not a compliment, bird boy.”

  “I took it as one.”

  “That’s because you’re an idiot.”

  “An idiot who’s not easy and kisses like the devil.”

  His lips press against mine as he squeezes my ass, pulling me closer. I gasp at the friction of his dick that’s hard and at attention between us. Our tongues tangle as he kisses me with more passion than I’ve felt in my entire life.

  Why can’t this be easy for us?

  Why couldn’t I have met him back in California? Someone local? Meeting him before our flight and then getting trapped here for a few days was all wrong, yet it feels so right.

  I’m not a dreamer. I’m a realist.

  This won’t work so lamenting over that fact doesn’t do anything but bring unnecessary heartache my way. I’ve had enough heartache in this life.

  Pulling away from our kiss, I study his handsome face. Men shouldn’t look this good. It’s unfair to womankind.

  “Want to snorkel?”

  His words kill the sexy vibe and I’m thankful. He promised me sights and I intend on cashing in on that promise.

  He promised me love too.

  My heart wants to cash in on that as well.

  “You have to eat, woman,” Camilo barks out.

  “I’m busy.”

  “Five more minutes.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  When I stick my tongue out at him, he laughs. We’ve been snorkeling for hours. There are tons of tiny creatures at the bottom of this lagoon. Even the rocks are growing with colorful plants beneath the surface. It’s so beautiful and I can’t get enough of it. I want to see it all.

  Eventually, my grumbling stomach wins. Camilo must have gone up to his Jeep while I was swimming and brought down some towels. We wrap up in them and sit on a sunny rock, side by side. I lean my head on his shoulder and stare at the sun as it begins to dip toward the horizon. The salty air smells extra potent today. I want to capture this moment and keep it forever. It’s so…peaceful.

  “Want to go dancing?”

  “I’m soaked to the bone,” I say, tilting my head up to look at him. “I have no makeup on. And I wore sneakers that are now filthy. I’m in no shape for dancing.”

  “We don’t have time,” he murmurs and my heart sinks at the reminder. “We just have now and it’s running out. Who cares if they see you looking like a drowned rat?”

  I snort and knock my shoulder into his. “Fine. At least my looking like a drowned rat will keep you from trying to fall in love with me.”

  “Too late,” he teases. “Been there. Done that. Have the shirt to prove it.”

  “You’re such a weirdo,” I complain. “Let’s go. Take me dancing. Time’s a ticking, handsome pilot.”

  Instead of giving me some smartass comment about being handsome, his features fall slightly. Like my words have saddened him.

  “We better hurry then.”

  It takes a good half hour for him to drive us to a small town with several restaurants and one really busy bar. We park up the road and hold hands as we walk. My hair is pulled into a messy half-dry bun that’s frizzy as hell now. I probably look like a hot mess, but Camilo keeps cutting his eyes over at me, watching me like I’m anything but. His stares are so…intense. And I’m not hating them at all.

  He pays the cover for us to get in before sliding his palm to my lower back, guiding me over to a couple of open barstools at the bar. First, he orders us some beers for the free beer snacks—here it’s fresh fish soup and chips—before handing me a menu.

  “You order,” I tell him, loving how freeing it is to not have to worry. So often, I pride myself on being this strong, independent woman. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel good to have Camilo take care of me. Even as simple as ordering me food.

  He rattles off something to the bartender in Spanish. I make a mental note to buy the Spanish Rosetta Stone audiobooks so I can learn this language. I learned Japanese when I spent a few months in Tokyo with Daddy closing a huge deal. If I can learn enough of that language to get by, surely I can learn Spanish too.

  Why?

  Because I want to.

  And I want to know what everyone here is saying.

  I have a moment of realization where I remember I won’t be coming back. It’s pointless to learn Spanish. After tonight, I won’t see Camilo again.

  “I’m going to run to the restroom. Can you get me a margarita?” My mom used to think margaritas fixed everything. If that idea was good enough for her, it’s good enough for me.

  “Be careful, babe,” he says, clutching my hand. “Give everyone your signature bitch glare and you should be safe from any assholes trying to take what’s mine.”

  His?

  Babe?

  I decide to choose anger over confusion and punch his hard stomach. “I don’t have a signature bitch glare.”

  “Sher, you so do. You’re doing it right now.” He laughs with his whole body and damn if it isn’t infectious.

  “Just get me a drink, boy,” I huff out, storming away.

  I’m smiling, though.

  Camilo is one of the few people who’s managed to burrow inside me. I try not to analyze what that means because after tomorrow, it won’t matter. We’ll fly back together and then my life moves on.

  After a bathroom break, I chance a look in the cracked bathroom mirror. I expect to cringe and hate what I see. Truth is, I don’t recognize the girl in the reflection. She has pink cheeks, kissed from the sun. Her lips are curled up into a carefree smile. Brown hair is wild and escaping its ponytail. It’s her eyes that are so different. Not hard and calculating. They’re soft and eager and hopeful.

  God, I’m going to break that girl’s heart tomorrow.

  I wash up, swallowing down my emotion. By the time I make it back to the bar, a giant margarita sits in my place along with our beer snacks. The soup looks decadent. It’s the other things that have me confused.

  “What are these?” I ask, pulling out a white wedge dusted with seasoning.

  “Jicama or a Mexican turnip.”

  I take a bite. It’s potent and spicy from what tastes like chili powder. I quench the fire by sucking down a good portion of the best margarita I’ve ever tasted.

  “Careful, abejita,” he says with a cocky grin. “Keep drinking like that and your night will take a drastic turn.”

  “Love?”

  “And cocks.”

  I choke on another bite of my Mexican turnip. “Cocks? As in plural?”

  His features darken. “Wait. No, one cock. Just one. Mine.”

  “Hmm.” With my eyes on his, I suck down more of my potent drink. “But these are so good.”

  He clutches my bare thigh and squeezes it as he leans in. “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you in your bed. I’m going to lick every inch of you. I’ll stay buried deep inside your tight pussy until the sun comes up.” His palm slides up my thigh under my dress, making me burn hot all over. “Stay sober enough that you enjoy every sensation.”

  Camilo

  This woman.

  Goddamn, she drives me crazy.

  Crazy with need. She’s such a far cry from the woman who insulted me the day I met her. Now she’s carefree and smiling. I want to keep her. Seems like such a simple notion. But it’s not that simple. I’m not sure how to make our stories align so that they weave together. It feels impossible without sacrifice. I’m not sure either of us has it in us to make that sacrifice. Not on a chance. A maybe. A feeling. That’s all this is, right?

  My gut tells me otherwise.

  My brain tells me to pump the brakes.

  My heart’s already a goner.

  Fuck.

  After two giant margaritas for her and the one beer I’ve been nursing, w
e eat our food and then pay. I take her out on the dance floor, no longer able to simply watch her. I need her in my arms. “La Bamba” by Son Jarocho plays loudly on the speakers and Sheridan starts dancing like this is her song. I’m amused as she wriggles her ass, her hooded eyes on me. I clutch her hips, twist her around so that her back is flush with my chest, and then I start moving my hips. She pushes her ass against me, very much aware of what she does to me based on the Texas-sized boner I have. I caress her hips through her thin dress, playfully teasing the fabric up.

  She lifts her arms up in the air. I can’t help but run my palms down her arms, along her ribs, and back to her hips. The dance quickly turns erotic. My thoughts are pure sex. I want her so fucking badly.

  For one more night.

  The clench in my stomach is painful. One night left with a girl who makes me question everything doesn’t feel like enough. I want to spend every night with her, coaxing out her smiles, riling her up, and kissing her pouty lips.

  She turns around and then slides her palms up my chest to my neck. Our mouths meet for a needy kiss. I grab her ass in a possessive way that lets every male in here know who she belongs to. We kiss with a desperation that cannot be squelched. Every lash of our tongues only makes us needier and greedier.

  “You in love yet?” I tease against her lips.

  “Not yet, but there’s still time. I want to spend that time alone with you.”

  My dick hears her sexy purr loud and clear. I kiss her once more because she’s too pretty and sweet not to before grabbing her hand. We bail, both of us eager to do more. I help her into the Jeep and then peel out of the parking lot.

  “I had a fun time today,” she says, reaching over.

  Her small offering of her hand makes my heart stutter in my chest. Days ago, this girl was as frigid as they come, and now she’s giving parts of her to me that I’m sure she’s never given anyone. It makes me crazy possessive. Like I could keep her forever.

  After threading my fingers with hers, I relax for the drive back. “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” by The Police comes on the radio. She sings along as she kicks her dirty feet up on the dash. I love how relaxed she is. Living in the moment.