“I don’t know. I feel as if you’re setting me up for something. Why do I have to explain?”
He traps my hands. “I’m not setting you up for anything other than a good time. Don’t be so nervous.”
Well, thanks a lot for reminding me that I’m ruining a good time. Deflated, I slide back toward him. “I’ve been on pins and needles since that day I saw you at my parents’ restaurant. I keep thinking you’re being too nice to me, paying me all this attention, and then, bam. You’ll disappear after you…” get me to fall in love with you.
“After I what? I hope you don’t think I’m just after sex.”
“No, I don’t think that. You’re creating these memories, vivid, wonderful memories, but I’m going to fall hard and wish none of this had ever happened.”
The problem with me. I don’t spill, but once I do, I can’t control my mouth. Maybe I’ve given up already. I’m doomed already. So what do I have to lose?
He tugs me close and puts his arm around me. “I am not going to hurt you. Relax and enjoy yourself. You’re not my temporary co-star, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Well, that and the fact he’s an actor. He’ll say and do anything to twist things his way. He can even get a hard-on on demand. What do I really know about him these last five years? The places he’s been to, the things he’s done. But he’s right. Enjoy the here and now, and don’t worry about the future.
“Let’s have a good time, then.” I give him a soft kiss. “Sorry for being bitchy.”
“Sounds good, but you’re still going to answer my questions later. I want to know your long term plans.”
“And ruin the mood?” I tip the champagne flute toward him. “Let’s celebrate tonight, my handsome co-star.”
Clink!
# # #
“Come on, we have to hurry.” Romeo powerwalks down the corridor, key card in hand. We’re on the eleventh floor and the elevator had stopped at almost every floor, adding to his impatience.
“What?” I totter after him, not easy when I shared more of the sake than he. This is so unromantic. I thought we’d take a leisurely walk around the hotel to admire the interior décor and paintings along the wall, maybe even dance down in the lounge before romantically strolling our way back to the room.
“Not telling you.” He opens the door and drags me in.
I twist from his grip. “I have to use the bathroom. Can you handle that?”
I take my makeup kit to the bathroom along with the overnight bag I bought this evening. I’m steaming and not sure I should tuck in the vaginal contraceptive film now or later. The package insert says not less than fifteen minutes and not more than three hours. Something tells me he’s not going to wait long, not with all the hurrying to the room like his pants are on fire.
The deed done, I wash my hands, clean off my makeup, reapply a light touch of lip gloss, and thinly line my eyes without putting on mascara. My natural lashes are thick enough and tonight, I don’t want to look like a co-star.
“Evie, are you done in there?” Romeo rattles the door.
Geez, what is wrong with him? Even though I owe him ‘this,’ I’m not that fast, and I need some romance to go with it. Asshole.
“I have a headache,” I call out. “Can you give me another minute?”
“Fine, but it’s going to be over soon.”
Over? Is he freakin’ jerking off? Gross. I stomp to the bathroom door, preparing to give him a shove while I rush to the hallway and flag down help.
Ooph! I bounce off his chest. Guess that didn’t work very well.
“Come on.” He tugs me to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Disneyland Park.
Fireworks light the sky, and the entire park shimmers from the Matterhorn to Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. The colors sparkle and shine brighter than a laser show. Romeo tucks me in front of him and wraps his arms around me, holding my hands.
“What do you think?” His voice is low and husky.
Once again, my pent up anger fizzles and I feel guilty. “I love it. That’s why you rented this room?”
He turns my face and kisses me. From the corner of my eye, I can see the plumes of smoke rising toward the multi-colored starbursts. The tension eases from my spine and I relax into his embrace. He’s the same Romeo I’ve known forever, always trying to make me laugh. He gave me my first flower, my first box of chocolates, my first promise bracelet, my first dance, my first kiss.
His tongue traces the outline of my lips and when I open my mouth to let him in, he lingers around the edges, his lips massaging mine. A hand snakes around my back while the other one rolls around my breasts.
I sweep my tongue into his mouth and tug at him, sucking and grasping. There’s got to be another first left for Romeo. Something I haven’t given to someone else. But even as I deepen the kiss, drawing him in, pressing myself against him, I despair and weep inside, knowing there’s nothing left to give.
He lowers the zipper of my dress and slides the slinky material off my breasts while kissing a trail from my neck to my shoulders. I twist and squirm, every nerve crying for his attention, on fire, unquenchable.
Tears roll down my face, fighting with the arousal down below. I can’t give everything I want to Romeo because part of me is still in limbo. I clutch onto his shoulders as he lifts me and gently lays me on the bed.
His eyebrows crease with concern. “Did I hurt you? We don’t have to do this.”
“No, I want to. I want you, Romeo. Just let me calm down a moment.”
He kisses my cheeks, his fingers stroking me gently. “You’re so emotional. Are you still afraid of me? That I’m going to hurt you?”
“No, I’m happy and sad because I want… I want…” My voice chokes and I cover my eyes.
“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” He drags his fingers through my hair. “You know I would give my entire life for you.”
“No, no, don’t. I can’t take that from you. I want to give myself to you, but there’s not much left of me. Nothing left. I don’t know if I’m coming or going, where I’m going to end up, what I’m going to do, who I am.”
“I’ll take whatever you offer.”
“That’s not good enough. You deserve someone who’ll stick to you, who loves you and appreciates you, who trusts you.”
“You think it’s not you?” He props himself over me, on his hands and knees.
“No, I’m too damaged to be that trusting. I’ll always look over my shoulder and wonder when the other shoe will drop, when the life I thought I had would be overturned, when the ground I thought was solid turns into quicksand.”
“That’s exactly how I feel, Evie.” His eyes turn watery. “When you left me at the prom. All these years, I wondered how you could have done it. Turned your back without an explanation, a word of comfort, even a friendly wave. Am I stupid enough to think you won’t do it again? What are you trying to tell me?”
His words dampen my lust and I scramble to get under the sheets. I can’t take seeing the anguish on his face, all the hurt and pain of the past, knowing I did it to him. And here I’m whining because Eric did it to me, and I’m afraid to trust again. Shit. I hate myself right now.
Pulling the covers over my head, I wait for him to leave. Why would he take another chance with me, unless it’s to get revenge? To sweep me into his world, to open my heart to his love, to get inside of me until I’m utterly dependent on him, and then, slam me into the icy lake of rejection. Make me feel what he felt all these years.
“Don’t hide from me.” His voice rumbles in a low growl. “You brought it up, now we finish it.”
He yanks the covers back and climbs in, still clothed to my half-naked body. He’s right. I did bring it up, because he doesn’t deserve how I treated him, yet he deserves an explanation, no matter how stupid and demeaning it is.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?”
His eyes are dark and beady, narrowed, but he shakes his head. “No, I’m trying
to figure you out. Why did you leave? The truth.”
I’m plastered to the sheets, unable to move, my emotions drained, my heart hollow. The truth. It’s ugly, juvenile, unforgivable. But if I want a shred of a chance with him, I have to give it to him. Ninety-nine percent probability he’ll turn his back and walk away.
Tentatively, I reach for his hand. He grasps it lightly and stares at me, unblinking.
I lick my lips and swallow, willing my voice to be strong. “I was too young to settle down, and I met someone I liked better. I was too scared to tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you. No, that’s a lie. I ran because I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted to think you were always there in the background. Someone I could turn to when I needed a friend. As long as I didn’t give you closure, I could have someone to hold onto.”
“And now he’s doing this to you. Ignoring your messages, not giving you closure. He hasn’t let go, and you are still waiting for him.” Romeo’s voice is hard and edgy. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
“Does this amuse you?”
“No, seeing you in pain doesn’t amuse me.” He feathers a finger over my temple. “I suspected something like this. Your backup plan. Someone to fall back on when the big bad world turns on you and bites you. I don’t like it, but I’m glad your father confirmed it.”
“Yes, dear old dad. Sometimes I think he cares about you more than me.”
“Somebody has to give me fatherly advice.” He reaches over and pulls my dress over my boobs. “So, where do we go from here?”
I clutch the front of my dress, worrying it between my fingers. If I back away now, I might have a chance to save my sanity, go back to my miserable existence and wait for Eric to get over his cold feet. But I’ll also lose Romeo forever. No backup, no friendship, no boy to come home to. I’ll be setting him free. It’s the honorable thing to do.
He lays his head on one of the king size pillows and cradles it, his eyes intent, but calm.
“What do you intend to do?” I crawl to his side, my dress shielding my breasts.
A grin slowly stretches his face. “I’m going to show you what you’re going to miss for the rest of your comfortable life. I’m going to completely and utterly ruin you for Eric and any other man who thinks he’s going to fulfill your dreams. Say the word, Evie, and I’ll make you forget how you can possibly exist without me.”
“Arrogant, aren’t you? And what if I tell you to walk?”
He flexes his arms and puts his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “I think you already know what you’ll be walking away from.”
I suck in a breath and almost choke. Does he really think I’m such a sex freak? That lust drives my decisions? This is exactly why I cooled off from him. Even though he never officially took my virginity, he just about drove me insane by kissing and petting. How would I have ever concentrated on my studies knowing he’d be waiting for me in between classes, or subjecting me to an all night love fest right before an important exam?
“There’s more to life than physical pleasure.” I’m glad he’s taken the low road, because the haze of lust clears, somewhat. I hold up my braless dress and turn my back to him. “Zip me up?”
“Much obliged.” He glides his hands on my bare back, and I almost lean back into him. “Care to take a walk with me through the gallery?”
“Huh? What?” I’m so groggy from the combination of sake, emotions, and hormones that it takes a minute for me to register.
“Frederic Remington, western artist. Some of his works are on loan downstairs.”
“Oh, I’m kind of tired, I thought…”
“I understand.” He pats the bed and gets up onto his feet. “I always admired the vitality of his art, the sense of motion straining to be freed.”
He grabs his leather jacket and pulls it on, then points to the second bed with his chin. “I won’t disturb you.”
I half-expect him to entreat me again, to cajole me into joining him like he always does. But the door thuds with finality. I’ve been playing with him too long. I’m on my final life, health points dropping fast, no more ammunition. Game almost over.
An inner voice cries, dying, and I slip on my heels. Romeo Rey Villanueva García. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. We will never be over.
I spot him at the far side of the gallery, standing in front of a painting of panicked horses fleeing from a battle. Two of the riders are shooting at pursuers while the others barely hang onto their mounts.
Slowly I glide toward him, quietly so he doesn’t hear me, but when I get within arm’s length, he stretches his left arm back and wiggles his fingers. I take his hand and fold myself into his embrace.
Wordlessly, we move through the exhibit, the energy and intensity palpable. The struggle for the American West, victory and defeat, drama and daring, always on the move, the indomitable American spirit.
Art is emotion. Emotion evoked without words. Music, too, stirs the chords within the soul. The strains of Saint-Saens’ “Rondò Capriccioso” wind through my inner ear as we meander our way back to the room.
Romeo hasn’t spoken and neither have I. The silence seems too sacred, too hard won to break. He shuts the door and leaves the lights off. His dark eyes shimmer in the scant moonlight. He draws me close, our breathes mingling, but not touching. The question mark in his eyes deserves an honest answer, a pledge.
I slip my hand under his collar and caress the back of his neck. Tilting my head, I tiptoe and press a single kiss over his lips. I’ve made my decision.
A smile graces his lips, and I nod to let him know I’ve chosen him. Now, I intend to show him exactly what he’ll miss if he ever walks away from me.
I loosen his tie, then slip it off his neck and wrap it around my wrist. Starting at the collar, I unbutton his shirt, and slowly and deliberately drop it to the floor. My fingers spread across his chest, lightly scratching him with my nails as I latch onto his neck and suck.
A growl issues from his throat and he clutches my waist. I press his hands together and wind the tie around his wrists. He huffs, but I press a finger to his mouth and shake my head. No words, nothing. It’s my turn to teach him a lesson he’ll never walk away from.
Firmly, I guide him so he’s stepping back to the bed. I shove and he falls hard onto it. Pouncing on top of him, I raise his hands over his head and spread my legs on both sides of his shoulders.
His eyes pop when he realizes I’m not wearing panties. He wets his mouth and lifts his head toward my crotch, but I push him down with a palm heel to the forehead. Taking my time, I circle my hips, my juices slicking his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, until he’s squirming and moaning under me.
He sighs in relief when I land on his raging erection.
“Please, Evie,” he groans.
I wag my finger and mouth ‘no talking,’ then punish him with a time out. No movement, no kisses, not a touch. It doesn’t last but a minute before I unbuckle his belt. He moans in relief as I unzip his pants. Eagerly he raises his hips and helps me kick off his pants. His huge cock peeks from the waistband of his briefs.
The tip is glistening and my body responds with a gush of wetness. I exaggeratedly lick my lips and make kissing motions around his crotch.
Romeo hits his head against the pillow, shuddering and frustrated, but good boy, he keeps his hands raised and clutches the headboard.
Using my teeth, I remove his briefs very inefficiently, to his utter torture. His hips roll and he jerks trying to make contact, but I can be really cruel. As soon as his cock pops free, I cup his balls, drawing out a long satisfying moan. Slowly, I pull back his foreskin and blow on the head. He sucks his breath in and his balls tense, quivering with desperate need.
“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
I lower my head.
Chapter 25
Wednesday morning, my body’s still sore from the acting and Romeo activities, but I drag myself to work after knocking back a jumbo mug of coffee.
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Carlos greets me at the back door. “You need a partner to chaperone Genie at the prom?”
“Oh, I forgot. It’s this Friday, isn’t it?”
“Yep. I heard she doesn’t want to go with Romeo anymore.” He wipes his hands with a dish towel. “So what’s been going on with you two?”
I’m not in a mood to chit chat. My parents are upset I stayed in a hotel with Romeo. I still need to have that heart to heart with Genie, and Choco? Well, funny thing. Choco has been too quiet lately. Hope she’s not sick.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “Romeo and I are friends. We’ve decided to enjoy each other while we’re both in town.”
“He’s cool with that?”
“Yep, he’s a big shot actor. He’s cool.” I take a swig of water and recap it. “Gotta set up the bangus room. Make sure you hold a plate of lechón kawali for Mr. Dee.”
“You betcha.” He grins and goes back into the kitchen, yelling at his assistants.
I finish the water bottle and saunter to the bangus room. I set out the napkin holders and place settings, tucking a fresh daylily blossom on each table. The atmosphere is bright and cheerful. Sunlight streams through the open windows and I can see the stadium backdropped against the cloudy blue sky.
The Sunshine bus toots its horn and double parks on the city street. I rush to the door and open it.
Mr. Dee is the first one off the bus, but he gallantly stands by the step and helps each of the Sunshine ladies disembark. They flitter and twitter, laughing gaily at his jokes.
“We’re all ordering lechón kawali,” Tita Thelma says.
Tita Clare thumps the table. “Better have enough, or there’s going to be a food fight.”
Mr. Dee pulls the chairs for each of the ladies. They all want his attention, saying he’s a big movie star, and asking if he can get them in on the next act.
A middle-aged man enters after everyone is seated and Mr. Dee introduces him as his son, Alfredo.
Alfredo gives me the once over and smirks. “You’re the waitress who gave away Tatay’s lechón.”
I mock bow and smile. “Yours truly, but don’t worry, we ordered extra pork belly today.”
Spring Into Love Page 39
