by A. Constanza
***
We toured through the countryside, absorbing the mountainous region with its ability to release all worries. Estella and I rode on our own horses while the other three took a carriage that was pulled by a pair of horses. We rode through the open fields, passing by farms and homes dated centuries ago. We waited above the vineyard where we would be met with a table filled with local products such as jams, cheeses, breads, and meats.
I glanced to the side and watched Estella stare ahead with her back straight as she galloped with her graceful horse. She looked confident yet delicate, at ease yet alert, angelic yet unfriendly. I had planned to speak to her tonight, even for a minute, but the barrier she was putting up had me question my plan.
We arrived at our destination, and Estella and I hopped off our horses’ backs, handing the reins to a farmer who approached us with his hands spread out. He told us that the horses would be in the stables if we chose to ride them through the meadows after our meal. Norah, Emile, and Salem stepped out of their carriage and soaked in the beautiful view of the vineyard.
A man approached us with a cheerful smile and motioned us toward our table. The four friends gasped at the sight of the variety of food, and Estella even smiled. I loved her smile. It caught the eye and made my stomach form knots. I wanted her to smile at me in that way. She had a wall up whenever I was around, as expected, and I wished that I hadn’t been the cause of it. She wasn’t this defensive when we first met, and then I’d hurt her.
A wine steward approached the table and gave us a detailed presentation on the top wines the vineyard was known for and gave us samples of them. Estella declined the first two cups until Salem threw a grape at her and told her to loosen up. I expected Estella to throw her a nasty scowl, but she simply rolled her eyes.
“It’s very good, Estellita,” Norah chirped, handing her the glass.
“Fine, only because it’s your birthday,” she said.
Her full, pink lips kissed the rim of the glass, imprinting it with a light lipstick stain. She pulled it away and thought about the wine for a moment. “It’s not so bad.”
“Keep it, I’ll get another glass,” Norah said, waving for the waiter.
It was a little past six, and everyone had indulged in the food and were admiring the violet-and-light-blue skies. They chitchatted, but I stayed back and only spoke when Nonno attempted to integrate me into the conversation.
I learned a little bit more about Estella. Nonno asked her how she knew how to ride a horse, and she told him that it was one of her favorite past-times as a child when she went to El Salvador with her family.
“Do you guys mind if I leave the table? I want to take one trip around those meadows before we head out.”
“Of course, of course,” the couple said.
“I can join you.” The words slipped out of my mouth.
Nonno looked at me and nodded in approval. “Good idea, it’s going to darken soon.”
Estella opened her mouth slightly, ready to protest, but she closed her lips. I trailed a few feet behind her as we walked to the stables to retrieve our horses. The same man from earlier handed Estella her sandy-colored horse with a blond, bright mane and handed me my black, proud stallion. We hopped back onto our horses and whisked through the green, wispy, grassy hills.
Estella lifted her reins, motioning for the horse to trot ahead toward the setting sun. Her silhouette against the purple and pink pastel hues of the sky was breathtaking. I whipped my reins, picking up a good amount of speed to catch up to Estella. She was making it clear that she didn’t want to be around me anymore.
“Estella,” I called out when I saw her galloping ahead.
I started to match her speed, and she turned her back to shoot me an annoyed scowl. “I don’t want to talk, Ignacio.”
I motioned the horse to go faster, and we sprinted ahead of her, then we rode back toward her again. She pulled up the reins of the horse to slow him down, and the horse slid to a stop—a foot away from us.
Estella flailed herself off the horse, her face red with anger. “Are you insane, Ignacio? You could have killed me!” She approached me with her finger directed at my face. “Is it hard for you to think a little?”
I looked at her in shock. “Think a little?” I scuffed, jumping off the horse. “All I do is think, Estella. All I can think about is you, and all I want to do is talk to you.”
“There’s nothing for us to talk about,” she said, tensing her jaw. “Nothing happened.”
“Estella, I know you may still hate me, but come on, you’re going to tell me that we didn’t kiss two nights ago?” I had my arms spread out in disbelief.
I couldn’t believe that she wanted to deny that anything happened. She might have regretted it, but she couldn’t forget it.
Estella crossed her arms tightly around her chest. “Nothing happened.”
Estella tried to sound genuine, but I knew that she didn’t believe her own lie.
“If you regretted it, it’s fine, but don’t stand here and lie to me about a moment that I couldn’t stop thinking about.” I remembered her body, lips, smell, and voice. “You need to be truthful to yourself, at least.”
Estella balled her hands into a tight fist and closed her eyes. She was ready to explode, and I was ready to be cut ten layers deep with all the hate that she’d contained for years.
“You want the truth, Ignacio?” Estella demanded.
“Yes,” I pleaded. “That’s all I want.”
“Fine! The truth is that I’m scared. I’m scared, Ignacio,” she shared, her eyes glossing over. “I’m scared because I try to convince myself that I don’t want to be around you, but deep down, that’s all I want. I want to be touched by you. I want you to speak to me despite my stubbornness. I think about the night in Paris. I think about the good and the bad, but it’s scary. I’m scared of getting too close again only to be burned.”
Estella confessed. She confessed, and it was not what I had expected. I had my heart set on hearing her bash me and hate me for hurting her, but I received the opposite. She stood in front of me, on the brink of tears, as she let her heart become vulnerable.
“I know, I know,” I told Estella, running hands through my hair.
“No, Ignacio. You don’t know. You don’t know what it feels like to be weak around a man who you shouldn’t trust.”
“I want this, Estella. I want you to trust me. I want to be this, too.” I leaned over, reaching her hand.
“You don’t know what I want.”
“I know that your biggest problem is me, but I know that you want to solve it. You want to know what happens if we are together.” I took a step closer to her, and she gazed at me as I continued speaking to her. “You want a love that simultaneously bonds you down to earth yet scatters you amongst the stars; a love that gives you the security of an army; a love in which you’ll feel like you’re drowning, but you’ll only want to sink deeper.”
“Stop, Ignacio,” Estella whispered.
“You want to know if you can give me a second chance… You want to know if your heart will let you fall in love.”
Estella slammed her lips over mine, and her hands clutched my shirt as she pulled me against her. My mouth grew impatient against hers; I wanted to absorb everything Estella before she pulled away from me. My hand traveled down to her knee and I lifted her leg against me, gripping her tightly. Kissing her was a dream. It was clear as day but didn’t feel entirely real.
Except this moment was real.
And I became greedy with the reality. Our lips were dancing and our tongues tracing each other. I pulled away from the kiss and started to trail her neck with kisses, causing her to murmur out my name, which made me more possessive of her. I wanted to be the only man’s name she would moan.
Estella’s lips began to slow down, and she hesitantly pulled away from me, loosening her grip on my shirt.
“Estella.” I sighed. “Don’t run
from me.”
Estella bit her lips and looked over her shoulder. “It’s just a little too fast.”
I nodded and traced her swollen lips with my thumb. “I can do slow.”
Estella hopped back onto her horse and waited for me to join her side. We rode away from the sunset in silence, but our minds buzzed with thoughts. I thought about the sweetness of her lips, and my growing need to taste them. I would never get tired of kissing Estella.
You won’t regret this, stella mia.
EIGHTEEN
Estella
The autumn breeze whipped through my dark green maxi dress, greeting me and telling me it was here to stay. The winds had escalated throughout the last two weeks, but there was something different this time. It wasn’t teasing; it was carried by whispers of warm fires to come. The skies were darkening, and even at six in the evening, there were red and orange hues that initiated the end of the day.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Salem asked.
We usually spent our evenings together, but Salem had a date with Leonardo, my tutor. He ended up staying at the café one day after our tutoring lesson, and the pair hit it off. Salem was extremely picky with men, so when she told me that she had an interest in Leonardo, I told her to go for it.
“Yes.” I chuckled. “Ignacio will be here soon, anyway.”
“Are you okay with that, too?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I appreciated her concern. She knew that I didn’t have a good track record with men, but we had been taking it slow the past two weeks.
We didn’t text constantly throughout the day, he would only meet me in public and did no house visits, and we had to keep our relationship a secret from Emile and Nonna Norah. They were the happiest they’d been in years, and we couldn’t let our failures affect them.
“This would be his first time in the house,” she said. “Things could get heated.”
“I’m not going to sleep with him,” I said. “We’ve hardly kissed these weeks.” It was true—he stole a kiss one evening, but that was the extent of it. Most of the time, he would caress my hand, cheek, or arm, or kiss my forehead before saying goodbye. I meant it when I told him I wanted to go slow.
“That’s the point! Suppressing desire is a recipe for disaster.”
I rolled my eyes at her nonsense. We weren’t suppressing desire; we were slowing it down. It was a challenge at times. I was completely and utterly enamored with his masculine beauty, his talent, his passions, his cognac-colored eyes, but I remained strong. And the thought of losing myself again only made me stay even more grounded.
“We’re just going to eat and watch a movie.”
Salem wiggled her eyebrows as she smirked.
“Is Leonardo close?” I huffed. “You’re kind of getting on my nerves.”
“Okay, I’m teasing, obviously. Do you like him a lot?”
“God, Salem, I like him a little too much, but I’m petrified of losing myself again if things take a bad turn.”
“Take your time with him, but actively try to trust him or see the good in him, at least.”
“Of course, of course.” I found it strange that Salem was speaking in favor of Ignacio, but I didn’t question her. I trusted her judgment; she could read others better than I ever could, clearly. She said it was her witch ancestors communicating with her.
“Mr. Pianist is pulling up,” Salem said.
“He’s early,” I murmured.
“He’s eager to get down and dirty.” Salem shimmied.
I nudged Salem away and walked toward Ignacio. He opened the car door and handed me a beautiful floral bouquet, then placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’m early, I know.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled, admiring the bouquet. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said and circled his car to receive a large, brown paper bag. “Tacos. A new Mexican restaurant opened up in Castel Nuovo, and I figured we could try them?”
“That’s perfect.”
It was more than perfect. Mexican tacos were my favorite food.
Another car pulled into the sandy pathway and parked in front of the cottage. Leonardo exited the vehicle and opened the passenger side door for Salem.
“Be good, you two!” Salem chirped, sliding into the car and sticking her hand out of the window to wave goodbye.
I pushed against the door and opened it, giving him a view of the living room. It was a small, quaint cottage that had all the essentials, such as a living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and one joint bathroom. There was no extra space for fluff, but we had the occasional plant, paintings, and small figurines.
“Wow, this is homey,” he said, walking around the living room and admiring the flower-field paintings that I had hung.
I softly chuckled and crossed my arms. “It’s nothing compared to your villa.”
“It was a gift from my father. His firm established Castel Nuovo, and he surprised me with a villa to celebrate the completion of the town.” He placed the bag of food on the coffee table.
“Oh wow, how long did it take him to build the town?”
“Ten years. I entered the project about six years in.”
“Huh, so how does Castel Vecchio feel about it?”
“They hate it, but they’ll adapt. Most of the land my father built over was abandoned.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Should we sit?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said, gesturing him to take a seat on our tan-colored couch.
I sat on the couch, leaning slightly in toward Ignacio. He stretched his arm out across the couch and grazed his finger against my exposed shoulders. He leaned in closely, staring at my lips.
“I know you said you want to take it slow, but would I be going too far by telling you that I missed you?”
My lips parted open slightly, I watched his light brown eyes growing warmer. My heart flickered, my cheeks blossomed like spring flowers, and the butterflies in my stomach fluttered their wings.
I missed you.
My mind repeated his words like a broken record.
Ignacio’s finger trailed up the curve of my neck and up to my jaw, grazing my cheek. I was melting, withering, and burning under his intense stare.
“I’m sorry, it’s too forward.”
“No,” I exhaled. “It’s okay.”
“I really missed you.”
God, he was killing me.
I couldn’t think around him; my mind was scattered. His voice became a song, and his words carried the melody. And I would lose myself in the beautiful music.
Ignacio had moved in closer, his breath teasing the middle of my neck. “I missed you, Estella,” he whispered into my ear.
A shallow breath escaped my lips as a rush of heat traveled between my inner thighs. “Ignacio,” I whispered.
“Stella mia.” My star.
I couldn’t resist his accent and his endearing words. I placed my hand over his cheek and leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on the lips, but it was much more aggressive. It was desire, need, an aching need for his touch. My body was hungry for him.
Ignacio maneuvered himself back to a sitting position and I straddled him, cupping his neck and crashing my mouth against his lips. His fingers danced along my back and down to my lower waist, then whisked me up. It was almost effortless.
“First door,” I said between kisses.
I knew what I was doing and, in the moment, didn’t care about the consequences. I was listening to my body’s desires because it craved some sort of physical culmination with Ignacio. He was the only man to have ever explored my body at all levels. I was nineteen-year-old me again: naïve, curious, and full of passion.
My mattress was beneath me, and he was over me. Ignacio leaned in to kiss me, and my legs parted to allow him to kiss me in even closer proximity. This was all reckless behavior, but once again, I didn’t care. Ignacio lowered his hand and placed tender kisse
s on my neck that made me melt into the bed. My hands reached his chest, trying to frantically unbutton his shirt.
Ignacio’s hand cupped over mine, stopping me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
His eyes meet mine, and we stared at each other for a brief moment.
“Yes,” I responded with a timid smile. “Why’d you stop me?”
“This isn’t slow.” He sighed in frustration.
“Do you not want to sleep with me?” I whispered, feeling the insecurities coming up to surface.
“I want you, so much. I’m using all the strength known to man to not devour you. I’ve waited to be intimate again with you for years, but I need to do this right. I don’t want you to make a hasty decision. I don’t want you regretting the decision to sleep with me again.”
My heart and sweet spot achingly throbbed for this man. My heart appreciated the efforts he wanted to make to ensure a perfect night, but my sexual essence wanted to straddle him. Having my hand on his hard chest and looking into his intoxicating eyes made me want to forgo all the formalities and go for it. I didn’t want to think or fight it anymore. But he was right.
He could see that I was agreeing with him.
Damn it.
I reluctantly nodded and released my hand from his chest. It was for the best.
Ignacio fell onto his back and placed his arms above his head, resting his head on his hands. “I have a surprise for you. Well, one of two surprises.”
“Okay.” I smiled. For someone who liked to know so much, I also appreciated the thought behind a good surprise.
Ignacio retrieved the item from his jeans pocket and handed it to me.
“Glow-in-the-dark stars?” I asked, pulling out one of the stars. “I love them.” I had glow-in-the-dark stars painted onto the ceiling in my New York bedroom. My papa loved astronomy, and he would read to me space-related books as a child, and I naturally grew an interest in stars. I asked for stars above me at night and my papa made it happen.
I handed half the stars to Ignacio. “Help me?”
We spent ten minutes sticking the stars on my ceiling; we actually tried to put some effort into their placement.
