by Dee Garcia
I watched him, completely entranced—the way he took a pull, how he tipped his head back before letting it go. It was all just so fluid...so sexy.
“I can assure you he’s not a ghost,” he exhorted through his puff, blowing out a few perfectly shaped O’s. “He’s very much real, and he sounded highly determined to get to you.”
“Again, kind of like you.”
Rome grinned slyly. “Pretty much.”
My stomach whirled.
This was all so chill it bordered on bizarre.
I actually wanted to be here with him.
Swallowing down such realizations, I laid my head back against the ledge and curled up my knees, hugging them to keep myself grounded. “What exactly did you overhear him saying again?”
“I didn’t catch all of it. Really only paid attention once I heard your name. Said something about paying you the visit you deserved.”
“What did he look like?”
“About my height, maybe a tad shorter. Fade. Tanned skin.”
I scoffed a laugh, eyes glued to the dark sky above us. “I’ll never find him—there’s a million of those in Miami. ”
Typical fuck boys.
“We’ll find him,” Rome assured me, that one little word snapping my head toward him with such speed, I nearly gave myself whiplash.
“We?” I hedged.
“I can help.” He shrugged casually. “That is, if you want me to.”
“Enemies don’t usually help one another,” I pointed out.
“They also don’t do this, but fuck it. Come here…”
“Where is here?”
Rome crooked a finger, pointing it almost on himself. “Right here. Come closer.”
And I did, without my usual hesitations.
He said fuck it, right?
Leaning in closer, I broke through his personal space like he wanted, bursting my own now barely withstanding bubble in the process. The heat radiating off him wrapped around me as he lit the pipe and went in for the kill.
I should’ve been expecting it, but God, when his lips pressed flush against mine, they seared me.
His fingers clasped around my chin as he blew the cloud of smoke in my mouth, slowly, teasing my lips in between.
It was some hellish type of heaven.
My eyes fell shut through his gentle assault and I found myself having to stifle down the moan that threatened to break free, my entire body buzzing to life at the simple feel of his skin on mine.
Light-headed, heart thundering, I pulled back, breezily blowing out what remained of his puff, and tried to collect myself.
To move away from him.
But all too quickly, I found him even closer, shattering what little remained of my resolve. His minty breath was hot against my skin as his lips ghosted along my cheek. And then he was kissing again, hand cupping the back of neck to keep me in place. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to, opening for him as he deepened the kiss.
“I want you, Lux,” he mumbled against my lips, attempting to pull me into his lap. “I want a truce.”
“What?” I eased back on a single breath.
“I want a truce,” he repeated, holding my stare. “I meant it when I said it; I don’t want Miami if you’re not part of the package.”
“Rome, I...” I didn’t know what to say.
A truce changed everything.
If he wasn’t against me then that meant…
“Please. Give me a chance to prove myself to you. Give me a chance to prove to you how badly I need you. How badly I fucking crave you.”
My subconscious was screaming ‘yes,’ all but belting it from the rooftop for him to hear, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.
“You’re killing me,” I somehow managed, barely containing the smile quirking my lips.
“I’m dead already, trust me. If I can have you, though, a motherfucker might just rise from hell,” he quipped.
And there went my smile.
My cheeks flushed along with it.
That pesky question I’d been dwelling on came racing back to the forefront of my mind.
What would happen if I let myself indulge once? Just once.
“You get one chance,” I blurted, “and it stays between us.”
“Sooo truce?” He grinned, holding a hand out to me.
I observed it before a split-second before leisurely slipping my palm in his.
“Truce.”
♫ Netflixxx - Brytiago and Bad Bunny ♫
That night on the Panorama was the turning point in our relationship.
I had her.
Maybe not in a sole proprietary sense, but after all we’d been through, including trying to outsmart destiny, I finally fucking had her on the same wave-length as me.
No more running.
No more denying.
No more pretending this shit between us wasn’t real as fuck.
I had her, and soon, she’d officially be mine. I knew it was going to take a lot more than a little weed and calling a truce to get there, but this was a start.
Now more than ever, I was going to have to lay the charm on real thick, though. With Liza only two steps behind, time was undoubtedly limited.
Of the essence.
And when the time came to pack my bags and leave, Lux would be coming with me. I refused to leave her behind.
Unless she wanted to stand beside me and go to war.
But that would mean having to regale her with the painful pieces of my past…
No, too soon. It was too bloody soon for all that. With my luck, she’d revert to old ways and push me away again.
I’d fought too hard to lose her because of my demons and what they’d forced me to do.
Who they’d forced me to become.
I’d cross the bridge when we got there. For now, I was going to relish every goddamn moment she allowed me to spend with her.
In the flesh.
On the phone.
Every single one.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked her, falling flat on my bed after a shower. Throwing the phone on speaker, I laid it on my chest as she replied, her sultry voice filling my room.
“Nothing—I don’t celebrate it. It’s an American holiday.”
“Newsflash, kitty kat, you live in America.”
“I know, but I’m not American.” I could practically see her shrugging. “What about you? Any plans?”
“Naaa,” I drawled. “I don’t celebrate it either.”
“So then why ask me if—”
“I was fucking with you.”
“As always,” she laughed.
I couldn’t help myself from laughing, too. She was right.
But I was about to change that...
“Serious question this time, I swear.”
“Go on.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Well,” she sighed, “as soon as I get the fuck out of this office, I’m going straight home and plopping my ass on the couch to watch some Netflix.”
“You’re still there?” I checked the clock on my nightstand. “At this hour?”
It was almost 9.
“Yup—I’ve been deep in the legal jargon hole that is Sephora’s contract for hours now. My eyes can’t take much more, though, neither can my brain. I may tap out within the next five minutes or so.”
Lux and tap out in the same sentence brought one thing to mind. “Would you object to me inviting myself over for your Netflix night?”
“Are you trying to Netflix and Chill?” Humor dripped off her tone, but there was a provocative edge to it, too.
One I hadn’t expected.
If my dick could grin, it would’ve.
“I mean…” I trailed off, unsure of how to answer. “If the opportunity were to—”
“It won’t,” she snickered, dissolving any and all of the crude visions swimming through my mind.
It was worth a shot…
“Is that a ye
s, though?” I hedged.
Lux hummed exaggeratedly. “Only if you promise to be a good boy.”
Boy?
“I’m not no boy, Lux,” I reminded her, my voice deathly low. “I’m a grown ass man, but yes, I’ll behave.”
“Fine. Meet me at my place in an hour. I’ll text you the address.”
I grinned victoriously. “See you soon, kitty kat.”
Click.
Exactly one hour later, the shiny metal lift doors slid open on Lux’s floor; the penthouse.
I was in awe almost immediately at the elegantly dark foyer that greeted me.
Round in shape, the walls were adorned with an ebony damask-print wallpaper, the wainscoting wrapped around the bottom half an equally dark shade. The tiled floors were a glittering black as well, and in the very center of the room was a small Victorian-style rounded table with an obsidian gothic-inspired chandelier hung above. On the table itself sat a dozen white roses in a crystal vase, contrasting nicely against the ominous tinge around them.
And then there were the front doors—tall and dark, like the entrance to an enchanted castle with large rounded gold knockers.
Curling my hand around one, I dropped it against the hard surface beneath it twice, the sound echoing through the room around me.
“Coming!” her muffled voice called out from inside.
Twenty seconds later, the locks were coming undone, and one of the doors flew open.
Lux smiled, almost shyly, and raked a hand through her hair. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” I smiled back, shoving my already restless hands into my pockets.
This was going to be fucking torture.
Stepping aside, she opened the door wider and motioned for me to enter. “Come in.”
I tipped my head graciously and followed her lead.
Crossing the threshold somehow felt like yet another milestone in our relationship. Sure, the woman had already been to my home, but it wasn’t under the same circumstances.
Not even close.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m just gonna pull the pizza out of the oven,” she said, slipping past me in a hurry.
But that’s when I noted what she was wearing; a white thinly-strapped crop top and teeny tiny pajama shorts covered in little bats. They hugged her ass, and the white fabric was nearly translucent, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
She’d done this on purpose, the little minx.
She wanted me to react.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I lunged for her, twirling her back toward me with a quick hand at her wrist. “I told you I’d behave—that doesn’t mean I’m not kissing you.”
“I never said you couldn’t kiss me.” She fell lax in my grasp as I wound an arm around her waist.
“The question is, do you want me to?” I asked, taking her chin between my fingers.
Nodding, she shut her eyes. Shifted closer and clenched my tee in her fists.
It was the tiniest sliver of submission, but fuck, I loved it, tightening my hold around her.
Pressed so closely together, her scent suddenly invaded me. I inhaled deeply, relishing it, savoring it.
It awakened the beast, waiting to be unleashed at any moment. My dick twitched beneath my sweats, luring my hands to the swell of her ass.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up eating her alive.
And that would definitely violate the terms of my promise.
Flashing my tongue out, I licked at the seam of her lips first, coaxing her open for me. She complied without reservation and slid her small hands around my neck, willing me to go in for the kill.
I did, only softly, sensually, like our first kiss up on the Panorama. I wanted her to feel every last bit of it, feel it slither its way through her body like a venom.
“You’re trying to kill me,” she mumbled against my lips.
“Says the woman who wants me to behave but greeted me in scraps of clothing.” Pulling away, I bore my stare on her until those blue pools fluttered open.
Her cheeks heated, a devilish yet subtle smirk curling her lips.
Yeah, she’d definitely done it on purpose, and she cemented the notion when she decided not to comment on it, leading me further into her home.
“I’d give you a tour but, it’s nothing like your place.”
“Yeah, it’s better,” I countered, taking in its beauty. It matched the foyer perfectly, but the wall of floor to ceiling windows was my favorite part. “This view is stunning.”
From this high up, you could see the entire city, including the Panorama standing tall in the distance.
“Agreed, main reason why I snatched this place up.”
“So, what are we watching?” I questioned as I spun around toward the sound of her voice.
The sight that awaited me was just…
Fuck.
She was in the kitchen, bent over at the waist as she pulled out that pizza she’d been talking about from the oven. The swells of her ass were on display, and maybe it was the macho man in me talking, but something about seeing her so confidently in the kitchen was arousing.
Or perhaps I’m full of shit and it was just her, period.
Setting the pie on a wooden chopping block, she dragged her gaze to where I stood, yanking the oven mitts off her hands. “You don’t happen to be into docuseries types of things, are you?”
“I don’t mind them.” I shoved my hands back into my pockets, shrugging. “Why? What did you have in mind?”
“I’ve been meaning to watch Drugs Inc. for a while now. Interested to see what all they’ve got in there.”
“I’m down for it.”
“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, twirling around to shut off the oven as I ambled toward the breakfast counter separating us.
“Whatcha got?”
“Whiskey, Bourbon, Vodka, Tequila,” she named a few from the built-in liquor cabinet beside the pantry.
“Bourbon, please.” I winked.
“Good choice. Two or three fingers?”
I could ask you the same question…
“Uh, two for now,” I said, tamping down the wayward thoughts trickling through my mind.
“Two it is. If you wanna get the telly turned on, it’s right over there. Remotes are on top of the coffee table. The biggest one is for the T.V. Do you want a slice of pizza, too?”
“I’m good for now. Just get your ass over here already,” I demanded.
An hour later, we were about half way through the second episode, and I was getting fucking antsy. The first one wasn’t so bad—it was actually damn good—but after a quick intermission and another refill to our tumbler’s, I’d about had enough of sitting this far away from her.
It was only a mere sixteen inches that separated us, if that, but it was still too much in my opinion.
Unnecessary and quite useless, really.
The pull was distinctly there, urging us toward one another. I kept it together purely because I swore to her I would, but I could see the way it was starting to wear her down, too.
Every couple of minutes, she’d peer over at me from the corner of her eyes, shifting slightly in her seat. Usually, I’d take that as a green light, an invitation, but this was Lux—Queen of hot and cold—and I wasn’t trying to fuck it up for myself so early in the game.
“Shit,” she hissed suddenly, leaning forward to deposit her tumbler on the table.
My brow lifted curiously. “You okay, there?”
“Fucking dribbled like an invalid,” she muttered, staring down her shirt. “My tits are probably intoxicated.”
And there was the green light.
The blatant green light.
I was on my knees in between her legs in nothing flat. “Allow me to clean that up for you.”
Lux fell back against the couch, eyes wide, breathing unsteady. “You promised you’d—”
“I know, but that was before you deliberately drenched yourself in bourbon.”
&
nbsp; “It wasn’t deliberate!” she retorted, painting the most dubious expression on my features.
My lips pursed. “Sure it wasn’t. I wasn’t born yesterday, kitty kat. Shirt off, now.”
This time, no smart ass response followed. Coy eyes observed me in her hesitation but, eventually—probably after realizing I wasn’t going to give it up—she sat up in my grasp and yanked the shirt over her head.
It fell somewhere beside me, I think, but I wasn’t focused on that. I was focused on her, on the glisten of alcohol trailing down her chest between her small tits.
“The bra, too,” I pressed, taking a moment to sweep my eyes over the rest of her.
Flat stomach adorned in ink.
Legs spread around my torso.
My mouth watered at the sight of her shorts cinched so high up. If she spread herself any wider, her cunt would be out there for me to see, too.
“Rome…” she whimpered in protest, but it was more meek than anything else.
“Take it off, Lux,” I demanded, running my hands up her thighs.
That sense of reservation was still there, lingering for several beats.
But it dissipated from one moment to the next.
Reaching around herself, she unhooked the single clasp keeping her decent and tossed the bra aside.
The second it hit the ground, I flicked my tongue out around her navel and started upward, following the trail laid out before me.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, falling back against the couch.
“Mmm, tastes better off you,” I cooed, licking and sucking my way up to her neck. “But I bet you taste even better.”
Lux moaned softly, threading her fingers into the longer strands of my hair, arching herself into me. “Don’t stop, please.”
Her plea came with a sharp tug on my head. She wanted me closer, on her, forcing me onto the couch as well.
Trapping her between me and the back of the couch, I draped her legs over my own, and slid my hands up the line of her figure, actually taking her in for the first time.
Her tits were perfectly rounded globes, small nipples a pale pink.
I could just imagine them bouncing softly as I gave her every inch, robbing her of all the air in her lungs…
