by Ewing, A. B.
The Love of a Latino
By A.B. Ewing
Text copyright 2013 A.B. Ewing
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Chapter 1
This was the stuff dreams were made off. Here on this little, almost unknown, island a man could make his paradise. The sun, though hot to the average person, was exactly the right climate for him. The cool summer breeze drifted in from the sea, bringing with it the cool mist of salty water, minute drops choosing to find their resting place on the olive-toned color of his skin. It was just what he needed.
Behind the dark-tinted glasses, Rafe surveyed the scores of beautiful women that lined the popular beach. They varied in height, skin tone, figure, and even their hair seemed to be several different textures and shades. It reminded him of Spain. A smile flittered across his lips as he made a mental note to visit his father’s homeland a little more often. It was, after all, in his blood. Sure, he lived in New York and his mother was American, but he was a Spaniard by blood. Why else would his parents name him Raphael Lopéz Cavos? Why not Jake, or Robert, or an equally silly American name?
Rafe’s eyes drew to a young couple walking hand-in-hand along the beach and his heart clenched a little. He would never have that. Damn, where had the years gone? He’d thought he had time to live the life of a Bachelor, play the field, and break a few hearts. Who knew he’d celebrate his thirty-first birthday so soon? Time had run out.
How he wished he’d never made that stupid promise to Mamá. Yet, she’d begged and pleaded and- loving the woman who’d given birth to him more than anything in the world- he’d given in. As they had agreed, if he did not meet and fall in love by the time he was thirty-one, he would marry Sarafina and give his mother the grandchild she so craved. Dios! Why did he have to be an only child?
A hint of vanilla teased his senses and as if instinct commanded it, his eyes roved for some sign as to where the intoxicating scent came from. It was gone in an instant.
His Blackberry vibrated and Rafe plunged into his pocket to retrieve it. Recognizing his fiancé’s name, he shut the device off and returned it to the confines of his pocket. He really didn’t want to speak to Sarafina right now. In four weeks’ time they would be married and then he would always have to communicate with her. The thought sank a foul feeling into the pit of his stomach.
Sarafina was beautiful. Okay, she was gorgeous, came from a good family, and her father was in business with his father. By business standards, it was a match. Sarafina was three years Rafe’s junior and though they had been practically brought-up together, he could never see himself in love with her. Yes, he was fond of her and he did love her, but it wasn’t in the way his parents loved each other. In the way a man should love his wife. The room didn’t light up when Sarafina walked in, nor was he anxious to end his day at the office just to be with her. Sex with her was good—hell it was great, but he just wasn’t in love with her.
Maybe not everyone was meant to have the kind of love his parents did. Even after thirty-three years of marriage, their love was evident in the way they looked at each other, in a simple touch or smile. Damn! How he envied them. Hadn’t they said their kind of love came once in a lifetime? He had thought it was a myth all along; however, now he was starting to believe it.
There was a hint of the vanilla scent from earlier, and once again Rafe found himself searching for its source. He was almost thrown off balance by the woman that suddenly appeared in front of him. It was certainly no secret what her favorite color was. The purple one piece bathing suit hugged her small figure quite seductively. Delectable breast held tight by the spandex created the most tantalizing cleavage. The straw hat she wore had the silliest purple bow on it, but the makeshift umbrella blocked most of her face from his view, leaving the pair of most kissable lips he had ever seen for his eyeing pleasure. Yes, he was certainly interested in this exotic creature.
Rafe continued to observe her as she deposited the large tote she carried on the sand and dove into it. Like Houdini, she pulled out a large beach towel and rolled it out above the white sand. Out came a small purple cushion that she carelessly tossed on the towel. In the bag, she rifled for what seemed an eternity and finally emerged with her treasure in hand. The beauty briefly waved the paper book in the air celebrating her personal victory. Rafe’s interest deepened as he continued to silently study the strange woman from behind his dark glasses. Laying belly down on the towel, she tucked the cushion beneath her chest and delved between the pages.
****
“Ann trembled as he caressed her inner thigh, her body set afire by his every touch. It was like this every time Nick touched her. Slowly his fingers trailed a part to her most secret place. Clamping her legs together, she fought for control. If she didn’t, she would come right then and there….”
As Dahlia read on, she felt Ann’s emotions—could envision herself on the receiving end of Nick’s skilled fingers. She could feel him touching her, kissing her where he caressed Ann.
Chewing on her bottom lip, Dahlia felt the tiny buds of her breast tighten as heat pooled between her legs. Quite aware of where she was, she attempted to dampen down the hot sexual tension that was building in her body as she continued to eat up the sex scene in this latest novel. L. Verji certainly knew how to make her characters come alive as they participated in pretty naughty activities.
Squeezing her thighs together, she shifted uncomfortably on the lilac colored towel—hoping that no one noticed what was happening to her. In an effort to ease her discomfort, she briefly closed the book using her right index finger as a bookmark. Tugging the large straw hat off her head she used it to fan herself, smiling a little when she realized she was just wasting her time.
Behind her large sunglasses, she noticed the man sitting a few feet away from her on the lounge chair. Naked from the waist up, his sweat-slicked body glistened in the midday sun. Dahlia took the opportunity to study the way his rugged muscles flexed as he picked up the bottle at his side. Her eyes travelled up to his mouth as he brought the bottle to his lips and gulped a long drink. Looking in her direction, he removed the bottle and did something she’d only ever read or saw on TV. He licked his lips! But in wasn’t in any ordinary way. It was slow and sexually tantalizing. The way that made a woman have an orgasm on the spot. This is what almost happened to Dahlia as a rush of hot liquid gathered in her bathing suit bottoms.
Dear God! This could not be happening. Increasing the rhythm in which she waved the large straw hat, she prayed her body would cool down, but when her beach God slowly unfurled his body from his sitting position, she almost fainted. He was well over six feet sitting down and appeared to be huge. When standing he was a giant. He was gorgeous! A perfect specimen if she ever saw one. Dahlia’s body went into overdrive. Her nipples tightened into hardened peaks, her mouth went dry, and her vision blurred.
She needed a dip in the sea! It would definitely cool her down. Tossing her book and the straw hat aside, Dahlia shot to her feet only to watch the world spin in front of her. Unable to steady herself, darkness engulfed her as she fell into a heap atop the hot sand.
****
Why in God’s name did her head hurt so much? Wher
e the hell was she? Dahlia’s gaze travelled the large room as she attempted to make sense of where she was. She felt almost lost in the large four-poster bed. It was gigantic! A large window was open to the right of her, the wind gently tossing the soft, sheer curtains. Outside, she could still make out daylight and hear the sea below lapping against the sand.
Trying to make sense of what had happened she struggled to sit up, but reconsidered when she felt the little elves pounding away at her brain. She immediately became aware of the fact that she was naked beneath the sheets.
Sudden fear engulfed her. Oh God! What had happened? Had she been raped? Why couldn’t she remember? The last thing she remembered was ogling her beach God and then—nothing.
A sound from across the room had her burying herself deeper beneath the sheets. The large door swung open at the other end of the room, the object of her thoughts emerging from the opposite side’s recesses. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt, the man was spectacular. His coal-black hair was ruffled and his feet were bare as he crossed the carpeted floor. Dahlia felt that stunning rush of desire again. This man was nothing short of exquisite. Somewhere in the back of her mind the word edible popped up. For the whole twenty seconds she drank him in, she had completely forgotten where she was.
“Ah, I see that you are finally awake, Amor. I was beginning to think I would have to find you a doctor.”
Oh dear God! Was that thick, rich, and sexy, accented drawl really his voice? Dahlia felt her dainty toes curl beneath the sheets. “Where am I? Where are my clothes?” She questioned, hoping to distract herself from what this man’s presence did to her.
“You do not remember, Corazón. You were on the beach and fainted. I brought you here, to my hotel room and put you to bed.” The handsome stranger offered as an explanation.
“Did you undress me?” Dahlia squeaked.
“Sí.”He offered a one word response.
“Why?” She delivered the point-blank question with much more emphasis than was needed.
“Because, Princess, it is thought that when one has fainted, constricting clothing should be removed. It was also wise—since your bathing suit was covered in sand.” His explanation made sense, but she was still too embarrassed at the thought of this man stripping her clothes away.
“Couldn’t you get a maid or someone else to undress me? You didn’t have to do it yourself.” The suggestion, though late, was still thrown out there.
“Ah, I see! You are wondering what I did after I undressed you, no?” A mischievous smile snuck across his cheeks as he paused for effect. “You need not to worry, Amor. Tempted as I was, because I certainly was, I did not dishonor you in anyway. Your virtue is still intact, but I strongly advise you—should you wish to keep your virtue, that it would be wise for you to get dressed and meet me on the balcony.”
Dumbstruck, Dahlia stared open mouthed at her beach God as he left the same way he came. Had the man just insinuated that he wanted to have sex with her? She could not believe it! That gorgeous hunk of a Latin man was sexually attracted to her. Oh God! He had seen her naked! No man had ever seen her naked, unless her father counted as one. Dahlia’s body turned beet red from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. At least he wasn’t able to see her now.
Ignoring the now dull headache, she scampered out of bed, looking around until she located her belongings in a chair near the bed. Hastily, she began to dress. She didn’t want to be naked any longer. What if he came back again?
****
That girl was trouble with a capital T, and he needed to get her out of his hotel room before he did something he’d surely regret. Having sensed that she’d been watching him down on the beach, Rafe had thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. The small woman had not been as scantily dressed as most of the women on the beach and her head had been engulfed by that ridiculously large hat and sunglasses. Although he could not see her completely, he’d been strangely drawn to her. He’d paid close attention to her as she read the paper book within her grasp, but felt the first stirrings of arousal in his body when she’d removed the hat from her curly head and began to fan herself with it.
The woman had no idea what a vision she made, lying there with her generous bosom in clear line of his sight. He felt the heat of her gaze burning through her lenses, causing the strangest effect to his body. Finally giving into the attraction the sea nymph had unconsciously caused, Rafe had risen with every intention of introducing himself when the oddest thing occurred. She’d risen, looked at him, and fainted.
Acting on instinct, he’d brought her to his room, undressed her and placed her in bed. By the time he was finished he’d felt like some horny teenager, thoroughly aroused and aching. The woman had the perfect body, curved in all the right places with full and high breasts, a waist so narrow his hand could easily curve around it and the beauty held wide hips flowing into long, thick legs. Her skin was soft as silk, but her hair- that lovely mass of curls- had been his undoing. When let loose, her tresses easily reached her rounded bottom. He’d closed his eyes to clear his thoughts only to be blinded by the vision of her sprawled naked beneath him, her sexily long legs wrapped around him as he did unspoken things to her.
A cold shower had hazily dulled his desire, but seeing her awake in his bed, looking ready for loving, had made him hard as a rock again. Having known she was stark naked beneath those sheets had only made it worse.
Out on the balcony with the wind blowing so freely he could calm him his body’s temperature, if only a little.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” A tiny voice said from behind him.
He sucked in a lungful of air before turning to face her. “It was not a problem, you needed help.”
She stood there nervously flipping her sunglasses from hand to hand. Having addressed him, Rafe found that she was not looking at him.
“What is your name?” Why the hell did I ask that? He questioned himself. She would be leaving any minute now and he would probably never see her again and that was fine with him.
“My name is Dahlia.” She raised the most mesmerizing cocoa-brown eyes and looked him dead in the eyes as she delivered the sought-after information.
Man, he was in deep trouble!
“Dahlia…” He tested the name on his tongue. “An unusual name, but precioso nonetheless. I am Raphael Lopéz Cavos.” He dared not offer his hand. Touching her would be a huge mistake. This girl-woman standing nervously in front of him, chewing on her sensual lips without a clue as to what she was doing to him was bad for his health.
“How old are you, Dahlia?”
“Hmmm…?” She shook her head lightly, focusing on what he was asking.
“I asked your age.” He pressed.
“Oh...” She exclaimed. “I’m twenty-three.”
Relief flooded him at her response. At least he wouldn’t feel like some sort of pervert when he did what he was about to do.
“Qué bueno,” he stated before lowering his mouth to claim her waiting lips and experienced his first taste of heaven.
****
Chapter 2
Kissing her was sweet torture. Insurmountable pleasure! It would be impossible for a man not to lose himself in a woman like Dahlia. Kissing her had not been his intentions, but she was so enticing—so damn kissable. If someone were to ask him how she tasted, he would say she tasted of vanilla and the sea.
Cautious of not scaring her, he teased her gently at first, but when her mouth opened up to his coaxing, allowing him deeper access to her sweetness, he drank freely of the forbidden nectar. The palm of her hands rested flat on his chest, but as his kiss deepened they crept up to encircle his neck. He slowed his movements, lightening the pressure of his kiss, gently nipping on her soft skin instead. When his tongue darted out to tease the corners of her mouth, she pressed closer to him, her body begging for more, but Rafe knew he had to stop. He was an engaged man and she was almost eight years his junior.
With one final, gentle tast
e of her soft flesh, he released her. Stepping away, he walked to the railing of the balcony to stare at the open sea, but he was oblivious to its beauty. Why couldn’t he make sense of this? Never had he been so aroused by a woman this quickly.
The cool afternoon breeze rose from the sea below bringing with it the scent of salt and fresh ripened mangoes. Rafe drew in a long breath willing his body to return to normal. With his arousal in check, he turned to face his tormentor again. She still stood where he left her, a curious finger examining her lips. She seemed in a world of her own, her cocoa-brown eyes focused on something past his shoulder. Anyone looking at her would know she had just been thoroughly kissed, her hair ruffled from where his hand had latched on as he tasted her.
He groaned inwardly as he felt his arousal return with a vengeance at the memory. “Dahlia?”
Her eyes drifted to him, her finger fell away from her lips and she lowered her head.
Covering the distance between them in a few strides, he reached out to raise her head. She closed her eyes in what seemed like an effort not to look at him.
“Dahlia, look at me.” He quipped, his tone demanding. “If you do not look at me, I will kiss you again.” He threatened.
Her eyes snapped open, and buried in their depths was her reason for avoiding his eyes. She was embarrassed. This silent seductress was embarrassed by his kiss.
“There is no reason for you to be embarrassed, Princesa. You are a beautiful woman, full of passion and made for loving. Any man would be lucky to have sampled an ounce of what I have just tasted. I stopped only because I fear I may not be able to control this unexplainable desire I have for you. Do not doubt that I want to make love to you. You invoke a need in me I have yet to come to terms with, and until then I will not trust myself to kiss you again.” She was staring at him, her swollen lips trembling, and Rafe fought with every ounce of his will power to repress his desire to kiss her again, fearful of where it might lead.
