by Carla Luna
“The box of condoms is in the other bathroom.”
She made no attempt to hide her disappointment. “Seriously? Don’t you have any tucked in your nightstand? For impulsive hookups?”
“I’m trying not to be that guy anymore. It’s…been a while. I don’t suppose you have one in your purse?”
“No. I haven’t had sex in three months.”
“I thought you and Ben broke up two months ago.”
“Exactly.” That, in itself, was proof of her less-than-stellar sex life with Ben. She let out a huff of frustration. “Now what?”
He rolled over until he was facing her. Running his hand along her arm, he gave her a devilish grin. “Now we just have to get creative. Have you ever played the Quiet Game?”
“The Quiet Game?”
“You know—when you’re a kid and your mom can’t take another minute of all the noise and chaos, so she tells you and your siblings to play the Quiet Game? You have to keep your mouth shut. First one to speak loses.”
Her pulse sped up. “What are you suggesting?”
“We take turns trying to make each other break the silence. Winner gets to choose their prize.”
Damn, that sounded enticing. “What does ‘breaking the silence’ entail? Does moaning count?”
“Not if you do it quietly, since we don’t want my cousins to get an earful. Luckily, we have more than enough throw pillows on hand. But begging for mercy? That totally counts.”
So he was playing it that way, was he?
Game on.
Chapter 19
Before Victoria could respond, Rafael drew away and tried to clear his head.
Are you out of your mind?
No matter how much he wanted her, he shouldn’t be taking this risk. And neither should she. They both had too much at stake. If they went any further, they’d cross the point of no return.
But when she favored him with an impish smile, he lost all resistance. Maybe if they gave in once, they’d get this lust out of their system.
It’s more than lust, and you know it. You’re going to get your heart broken again.
He didn’t care. He had a gorgeous woman in his bed, and she was looking at him with unabashed desire. “Should I go first?”
She fluffed out her hair and spread it behind her. “Give it your best shot.”
Now that he’d decided to go down this path, he was going to give it everything he had. He handed her the “Kiss the Cook” throw pillow she’d used to muffle her earlier cries. “You might be needing this.”
She set it at her side. “I don’t think so.”
With a flourish, he stripped off all the covers and threw them to the floor. After a moment’s deliberation, he checked to make sure the bedroom door was locked. Ernesto had barged in one too many times, wanting to borrow his phone charger.
When he turned his attention back to Victoria, he took his time admiring her enticing figure. In Baja, he’d gotten to know her intimately. Kissing and touching every inch of her delectable curves. But after she left him, he never imagined getting another chance with her. He didn’t want to waste it.
Giving him a come-hither smile, she addressed him in a low, husky voice. “You like what you see?”
“I do, indeed. But no more talking, mi amor. The game starts now.”
As much as he longed to ditch the pajama bottoms, he’d have more control if he left them on. He eased the lacy red panties off Victoria’s hips and tossed them aside. Running his hands along the length of her body, he delighted in the smooth feel of her skin. She gave him a condescending smile that suggested she was still in control.
Not for long.
He parted her legs and teased her with soft kisses along the inside of her thighs. Smoothing his hands under the rounded curve of her ass, he drew her toward him, exploring her slick, wet folds with his tongue. Her whimpers filled him with a surge of satisfaction, but as they increased in intensity, he drew back. Again, he brushed his lips against her thighs, causing her to squeak in frustration. He laughed and resumed his earlier torment, swirling his tongue around her sweet spot with slow, deliberate strokes.
He glanced up, pleased at the sight of her hands clenching the sheet in a death grip. She squirmed under him, arching her back, all but begging for him to continue. When she reached down to touch herself and relieve the pressure, he gently placed her hand to the side. She gave another of those angry squeaks, followed by a glare that would have made a lesser man shrivel into dust. But he didn’t break. He ran his tongue along the curve of her belly and nipped at her hip bones, this time allowing his fingers to explore her wet, velvety core. By now, she was more than ready. But he wouldn’t give her the release she craved.
She grabbed the pillow and placed it over her face, suppressing her moan of frustration.
This was more fun than he’d imagined. But the longer he spent tormenting her, the more he wanted her. It wouldn’t take much to set him over the edge, and he intended to enjoy every minute of his turn. Gripping onto her butt firmly, he lowered his head, again finding her sweet center, laving it with his tongue until her body shuddered and she gasped into the pillow. He held onto her until her soft whimpers subsided, feeling pleased by a job well done.
He might not have won, but he’d gotten close.
She sat up and pushed him onto his back, her eyes ablaze with fury. He stretched out on the bed and waited, certain she wouldn’t get a single squeak out of him, let alone a plea for mercy.
After removing his pajama bottoms, she flung them across the room. The sight of her above him, flushed and heated and radiant with lust, made him crave her all the more. But she was clearly in control, teasing his nipples with her tongue while reaching between his legs to stroke him. She trailed kisses down his chest and stomach, then lowered her head and ran her tongue along his rigid length. When she licked the tip, slowly and deliberately, it took all his willpower not to beg for more. He ran his fingers through the silky strands of her hair as the frustration built up inside him.
He’d underestimated her, just like he had the first time they’d had sex, when she’d coaxed him into making love on the beach.
She caught his eyes, and her mouth curved up in a satisfied smile. She continued to tease him, letting her lips linger everywhere except the one place he wanted it most. When she finally took him into her mouth, he was primed to explode, but she pulled away before he reached his peak. He grabbed the pillow and stifled a groan. She toyed with him again and again, promising him fulfillment, only to take it away. He rocked his hips, desperate for release, but she refused to give in.
When he couldn’t take it any longer, he gasped in submission, no longer caring that he’d lost the game. “Victoria. Please. I concede. You win. Just…please…”
She laughed and took him deep into her mouth. Unable to hold back a second longer, he pumped himself into her, groaning into the pillow as the sensations shuddered through him. The pleasure was intense. World-shattering. She didn’t release him until he’d finished, whereupon she pulled away, wiped her mouth delicately, and lay down beside him, looking as smug as hell.
He let out his breath. “Damn. Clearly, I was outplayed.”
“Clearly. But you get an A for effort.”
“What do you want for your reward?” If it was sex-related, he was going to need a minute. Maybe ten.
“After your cousins leave, I want you to cook me breakfast.”
“That’s it?” His affection for her spilled over, warming his heart. “I would have done it anyway.”
“It wasn’t about the prize. It was about the thrill of winning. And watching you beg.”
Her superiority didn’t bother him in the slightest, not when she looked so damn proud of herself. He twined his fingers into her hair as a wave of contentment washed over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of blissful satisfaction.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he murmured.
For a second, he wo
rried he’d said too much, but she nestled in closer, resting her head on his chest. “Same here. I tried to forget you, but I couldn’t. Not really.”
“Even though you were engaged to Ben?”
“Maybe that’s why our sex life was so unsatisfying. He never made me feel the way you did.”
Rafael’s heart surged with tenderness. The fact that she’d never quite gotten over him was unbelievably gratifying. He’d almost drifted back to sleep when she sat up and stretched.
“Any chance I could steal your shower? And maybe a clean shirt?”
“Sure.” He would have offered to join her, but the shower was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. And right now, he had nothing left in the tank. Instead, he admired her figure as she got out of bed.
She turned back and grinned. “Are you ogling me, Chef Sanchez?”
“Sorry. I should know better, but I can’t help myself.”
“Since I’m the victor in today’s game, I can be gracious. Take a nice long look.” She struck a coquettish pose, then winked and fled into the bathroom.
As he heard the water running, he knew he should feel guilty that he’d let his libido get the best of him. But right now, he had no regrets. The Victoria who played the Quiet Game was the woman he’d known in Baja. Fun, sexy, and spirited. He wondered how much longer he’d get to enjoy that Victoria before she went back to business as usual.
At this point, he wasn’t going to question it.
Or ask if this little interlude meant anything.
He was just going to savor the day.
By the time they’d both showered and changed, they had the apartment to themselves. Rafael set out ingredients for huevos rancheros and made a pot of coffee. Victoria sat at the breakfast bar, looking adorably cute, with her wet hair in a loose topknot, wearing one of his old Baja t-shirts knotted at the waist.
When he passed her a mug of coffee, she let out a happy sigh. “Thank you. This morning has been incredible.”
He couldn’t suppress his smile of satisfaction. “Glad to hear it. Are huevos rancheros okay?”
“Yes, please. Is your salsa homemade?”
For that, he gave her a huff of disbelief. “You think I buy salsa in bulk from Costco? I make three different kinds. Medium, hot, or ‘the devil’s playground’?”
She laughed. “Will you think I’m too basic if I opt for medium?”
“Not at all. The only one who likes ‘the devil’s playground’ is Ernesto, and that’s so he can brag about it.” He rooted around in the fridge until he found the right container. He then set out the eggs, corn tortillas, and refried beans. “Avocado?”
“If you have it, yes, please.” She eased off the stool and walked over to the corner of the kitchen, where a baker’s rack held dozens of cookbooks. “Are all these yours?”
He drizzled oil into a small sauté pan and turned up the heat. “Yeah. Our library has a used book sale every year. I make sure to get there early so I can grab the best cookbooks. People always give them away. Even the brand-new ones. I think they buy them with lofty goals in mind, then give up after a year.”
She pulled one of the books off the shelf. A stylish Mediterranean cookbook, filled with vibrant photos of Greece and Turkey. “This looks amazing. Have you tried any of the recipes?”
“Not yet. When I have downtime, I look through them and bookmark the dishes I want to try.”
She set down the Mediterranean book and grabbed one featuring French pastries. “Ooh. Have you ever made any of these?”
“I made croissants once, but they weren’t my best effort. They’re a ton of work. What I’d like to do is take a pastry class.”
“Why don’t you?”
Though it was a sore subject, he suspected Victoria might understand his frustrations. “When I moved back here from San Diego, I thought about applying to Southwestern College. They have a two-year associate’s degree in cooking and baking. But my brothers gave me a hard time. They couldn’t understand why I wanted to go to school for something I’ve been doing since I was thirteen.”
They hadn’t meant to belittle him; they just didn’t think it was necessary. Martin had also reminded him that he hadn’t been a stellar student in high school. But this was different. Though classes like physics or English literature bored him, cooking was in his blood. If he was going to pay to learn more about it, he’d make sure he got his money’s worth. But it all boiled down to the same issue—proving he could be trusted to act like a responsible adult.
“Maybe you should try asking them again,” Victoria said. “If you tell them how much it means to you, they might reconsider.”
“I’ve been teaching myself different techniques, but maybe…” He thought for a moment. “If I can pull off this wedding, my brothers might take me more seriously. I could ask them then.”
“That’s a great idea. Even a few classes could make a huge difference. Right? You could learn stuff you’ve never tried before.”
He liked the idea. One or two classes, in addition to his normal work life. If his brothers thought he could handle it, then he’d pursue it.
After heating up the salsa and setting it aside, he set the tortillas in the hot oil and diced up a ripe avocado. When the tortillas were done, he drained them in a paper towel and wrapped them in foil to keep them warm while he heated up the beans.
Victoria settled back onto her stool with a cocktail book in hand. “This is just what I need.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You thinking of going into bartending?”
“No, but I could use it to find the signature cocktail for Missy’s wedding. That reminds me—instead of using Tres Hermanos, why don’t you come over to my place? We’ve got a full bar at the house. If there’s anything extra I need, I can pick it up and charge it to the wedding. Then we can experiment with fun Christmas drinks.”
He could think of nothing he’d like better, but he couldn’t let himself be tempted. “I’d love to, but I don’t drink and drive.”
“Not ever?”
“Not if I can help it. That’s why we walked to the bar last night.” He looked away as the shame washed over him. “Right after my dad died, I got up to some stupid shit. I smashed up the family car after a wild night out. No one got hurt, but I spent a year paying off the damages.”
If Victoria thought less of him, she didn’t show it. Instead, she spoke gently. “That must have been hard. I can see why you’d want to be careful.”
Though he hadn’t cut back on the drinking until recently, he’d never gotten behind the wheel again while under the influence. For all the grief he’d taken from Martin and Tony, he knew he’d gotten off easy. He could have ended up in the hospital. Or killed someone.
He cracked the eggs into the pan and watched them closely. Once the whites had set, he took them off the heat and set the pan to the side. He placed the beans onto the warm tortillas, added the eggs, and then spooned a generous amount of salsa and diced avocado over each serving.
When Victoria took the first bite, she let out one of those orgasmic groans. Truly, this was a woman with a delightful repertoire of food-related noises.
She set her fork down. “I have a brilliant idea. What if you spent the night at my place?”
If he were being responsible, he’d decline her offer. Nip this fling in the bud before it went any further. But the Quiet Game hadn’t been enough for him. He wanted to make love to Victoria properly. Spend the night with her curled up in his arms. Wake her up with a passionate session in bed, followed by a steamy shower.
But he could only imagine her father’s reaction. “I’m sure your dad would love that.”
“He left for Napa this morning, and he’s staying there until Wednesday. He goes there a lot to check in on the Blackwood Cellars-Napa office.”
Even if the scenario sounded too good to be true, Rafael had to go for it. Who could say when he’d get another chance alone with Victoria? “You sure he won’t be back until Wednesday?�
��
“Yep. And I told our housekeeper to take a few days off so she could do her Christmas shopping and spend time with her family. We’ll have the house to ourselves.” She waggled her eyebrows. “We can be as loud as we want.”
“I can be there at five.”
He wasn’t just playing with fire, he was playing with a whole damn volcano. But he wasn’t going to turn her down.
Chapter 20
What the hell was she doing?
As Victoria drove back to Temecula, the question nagged at her. When she’d gone to the bar with Rafael after Araceli’s party, all she’d wanted to do was share a drink. Smooth over any awkwardness. Talk to him as a friend. Nothing more.
But then she’d crossed a line by crashing on his bed. And doubled down by initiating this morning’s sexy shenanigans.
In theory, she should have been mired in regret. Or guilt. Or fear she’d made a mistake that couldn’t be undone. But the only emotion coursing through her was a fizzy happiness that lifted her spirits like the bubbles from a glass of champagne.
A feeling she didn’t want to end.
The sensible move would be to put these feelings on hold until after the wedding. Or better yet, until after her father reassured her that he’d cleared her debt. She couldn’t risk upsetting him.
But despite her rationale, she didn’t want to wait two weeks to be with Rafael. Hell, she didn’t want to wait two days. While the Quiet Game had been incredibly gratifying, it hadn’t left her satisfied. It left her wanting more. More banter, more sex, more everything. Her body felt like it was waking up after years of hibernation. Even now, her nerve endings tingled at the thought of their upcoming encounter.
What harm could there be if they indulged in a steamy fling? They’d have to keep it under wraps while they were working on the wedding, but she was good at keeping secrets.
What about after the wedding?
A question she wasn’t ready to answer yet. And didn’t need to, since Rafael hadn’t said he wanted a relationship. As long as they both embarked on this fling with zero expectations, no one would get hurt.
