by Robin Leaf
My jaw grinds. Although I am still pissed about the situation, I don’t like seeing her cry, especially something that wasn’t actually her responsibility.
“Why were you meeting strange men in bars?”
“Jeez, güero.” She yanks her hand out of mine and slaps the back of the couch. “That’s your takeaway from what I just told you?”
“Yes. Joe told me you snuck out of your hotel room in the middle of the night and he found you huddled up next to some guy. I didn’t like hearing about it.”
She sits up and clenches her teeth. “Is this jealousy?” Her chest heaves. “Because you had no right to be jealous after pushing me away.” Her voice rises as she speaks.
“I walked away from you for your safety.” My voice rises louder than hers. “And no, it isn’t jealously. If you remember correctly, I thought you were with Ignacio.”
Feeling my anger get the better of me, I stop before this turns into another fight. If it weren’t for her slight concussion, I’d keep it up, but she doesn’t need to be upset right now.
I take a deep breath and grab both her hands again, rubbing my thumbs over them to calm both of us. She doesn’t pull away, so that’s a good sign.
When I speak, my voice is controlled. “Honestly, Cristiana, if things hadn’t worked out the way they did, we wouldn’t be here, right now, together. The senator has a microscope up his ass and is on his way out of office. It’ll all come out, and I don’t have to be away from you to wait for it to happen.”
I love the look on her face right now. So hopeful, so full of awe… but it’s only temporary. It’s erased by whatever bomb she is about to drop.
“Ignacio and I have an arrangement. We are to appear to be in a relationship for the duration of this tour, and until we can end our relationship the way we planned, I have to abide by the arrangement.”
I sit back and grind my teeth again. “I think his assault and threat to kill you effectively ended that arrangement.”
She shrugs and looks away. “I need to talk to him about that, but that’s not –”
“No,” I growl. “You don’t.” She sits back and crosses her arms over her chest, which just pisses me off more. “Do not get defiant on me. You will break it off with him.”
“I can’t –”
“You can and you will. Arrange how you are going to orchestrate your public break up through Joe, but you are not going anywhere near him.” I lean closer to her, getting right in her defiant face. “That’s final.”
My girl doesn’t back down. Sitting taller, she practically shouts, “Fuck. Off!” Pushing off the couch to stand, she turns to walk out, but stops about five stomps away. “This is the second time you’ve demanded my obedience, expecting me to roll over like some little bitch, and let me tell you, it ain’t gonna fly. You need to learn to discuss shit with me without turning into a controlling, dick-wad asshole, but right now, you can béseme culo, pinche cabrón.”
She turns right and storms down the hallway. I hear a door slam, probably the one to the guest room. At least she didn’t leave the apartment. I would have had to stop her.
And that would have gone badly. Worse than this did.
Walking to my bar, I fill a glass with whatever bottle I grab. The first sip doesn’t exactly calm me, but it’s smooth. Damn, noticing which bottle I chose, it should be. It’s the eighteen year Jameson Fionn got me for my thirtieth birthday last month, the one I vowed to reserve for special occasions. I opened it when it settled in that the Jack Heywood investigation was over and I could pursue a relationship with Cristiana. Seems fitting that I toast what might be the end of a relationship with her with a glass of the same stuff.
She’s right. I was a controlling, dick-wad asshole. I gotta make it right.
I’ll let her cool off, then I’ll talk to her.
She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted.
I cannot lose her.
I need her.
She’s my future.
I just hope she still wants me in hers.
Thirty Seven
Cristiana
I’m glad Noah let me walk away. Yeah, he pissed me off, but I understand why he said what he said. I don’t agree with his “Me man, you woman” attitude, no way. I’m learning, though; he gets demanding and controlling in situations that scare him. Loss of control scares the bejeezus out of him.
Yesterday, he was scared for me because of the unknown assailant, which the big knot on the back of my head and the nick on my throat prove he was right to be scared. She is one loca chica. He just wanted me safe. I get that. And tonight, he is worried about how Ignacio will treat me, especially since the last time I was with Nacho, he did assault me, twice. If the roles were reversed in either scenario, I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t go all momma bear on his sexy ass.
However, I will not let him boss me like that.
Plus, I need him to be calm when I tell him about the record company’s goon threatening to ruin my career if I don’t comply.
Walking into the bathroom, I decide to take a quick shower before trying to sleep. I should be tired, but I know my pinche racing brain will probably shift into gear once I lay down.
The one thing I planned to do this afternoon after my meeting was wash my clothes. Yeah, that couldn’t happen, so now I have nothing to sleep in, not even a clean pair of underwear. I wrap my towel around me and open my door quietly to sneak across the hall so I can borrow one of Noah’s t-shirts. I don’t know how the hell I chose the correct drawer on the first try, but I grab one and quickly pull it over my head, sniffing deeply the fresh laundry smell with a hint of his scent, before making my way back to his guest room. Collapsing on the bed, I wrap myself in a sheath of safety in the expensive sheets, turning on my side facing away from the door.
As predicted, my mind races with all the thoughts of the past week. I have time to obsess over every aspect of what happened with Ignacio and what signs I missed or ignored, analyzing and categorizing all my fuck ups in that relationship. Next, we move to searching the reaches of my brain for all things that I overlooked with the whack-a-doodle, Tabitha, and how I basically allowed her to take over with Ignacio because he was becoming too much for me to handle. Ultimately, shoving him at her is what caused the mess he is in right now. Not to mention the fact that if Noah hadn’t been with me when I arrived home, I would have walked in on her trashing my place and possibly ended up getting slashed like my furniture. Plus, I have to admit that Noah is right; it was kind of stupid to take her on today. That revelation causes a revolving door of what-if scenarios to pop into my head, each with a horrific ending. With all these racing thoughts, the stress I managed to repress all week crashes over me like a tidal wave, causing a big mess of catharsis to pour out of my eyes.
Sometimes, a girl just needs a good cry, twice in one week.
And wouldn’t you know it, Noah sneaks into the room, just when I sniffle.
He doesn’t say a word. It takes a few moments before I hear shuffling beside the bed. Finally, I feel the dip of the bed when he gets in, and he works the sheets from around me to invade my shelter and molds his warm, almost naked body around mine, making himself my new cocoon of safety.
“Shh,” he breathes in my ear. “I’m sorry, cariño. I’m here.”
He doesn’t caress my skin or kiss my tears, nor does he make any move to seduce me. He simply holds me while I cry, lending me comfort and strength, warmth and safety.
One beautiful move from this man makes the tears come faster.
God, this moment… this is the moment I feel my final wall come down. This is the moment I know Noah is it, the only one for me. He is mi amor. Mi corozón es suyo. He owns my heart.
It only makes what I have to do that much more painful.
When I feel the tears subside, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable.
“I was five when I last saw my father,” he begins before I can. “He came in my room the morning of my last day of kind
ergarten to tell me he had to leave on yet another job.” He cuddles me closer to him and grabs my hand. “He said his job was to protect the innocent from bad people.” He sighs. “I didn’t understand what that meant, but before he left, he told me it was my responsibility to watch over my mom and my sister while he was gone, that it was my job to protect them.”
I roll over to my back and run my hand along his beard. “That’s a lot of pressure on a little boy.”
“Maybe, but I took my job seriously, always on guard, watching and ready for anything. He told me, ‘Men protect the ones they love, Noey, so you need to be good at your job. I’m counting on you.’” He smiles sadly. “I always wondered why Dad loved the innocent so much.
“He never came home after that. Mom never explained why. There was no funeral. Mom never cleaned out his things and kept saying stuff like, ‘We’ll do that when your dad gets home,’ so I kept thinking he would. Mom kept her hope alive, so I did, too. When I was about ten, I decided he just loved the innocent more than he loved his own family, that I had done something to make him not want to return.”
God, hearing this makes my heart hurt for him.
“I still did my job though, protecting my family like Dad told me to. It wasn’t until I was around thirteen or fourteen that I learned what happened. I was looking for a pen to do my homework and found papers on my mother’s desk where the DEA denied her request to continue the search for my dad. I confronted Mom about it, and she broke down and explained that he worked for the DEA as an undercover agent where he infiltrated one of the drug cartels.” He pauses to swallow. “He disappeared during his last assignment without a trace. She told me that she couldn’t believe he was gone, holding on to hope that he would come home someday. She admitted that the agency declared him dead, that there were rumors that he had been executed, but without a body, she just wouldn’t accept he wasn’t coming home. I convinced her that we needed to let go, and as a family, we finally decided to say goodbye.
“That was when I decided I was definitely going to join the military. I had a favorite toy GI Joe action figure as a kid, and Mom always told me I would make a great military man. After learning about the SEALs, I convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, I could join them and find out what happened to my father.” Closing his eyes, he softens his voice. “It didn’t work out that way, but since we were on missions to bring down international arms dealers who happened to have ties to the cartel, I thought this would be enough to help finish the job my dad started and help my mom and my sister get closure.”
I feel the tears start again and attempt unsuccessfully to blink them away. He sees them fall and wipes them away.
“While I was on a mission to invade one of the compounds, I made a stupid mistake, activating a trip wire that not only got two of my men injured, but my injuries were bad enough that it ended my career in the SEALs.” I run my fingers down his scar, and he trembles. “We found out that the senator most likely tipped off the cartel, so I vowed to bring him down, and when it wasn’t me who did it –”
“Oh, God, Noah, I’m so sorry,” I sob into his chest.
He holds me, stroking my hair, for a long time. Neither of us say a word. He waits until my tears stop before he speaks again.
“I feel like a failure for several reasons, Nana. I have believed since I was a little boy that my job is to protect those I love. Therefore, you need to please, please forgive me for getting a little crazy with the protective ordering, but I need to get it right this time.” He pulls me tighter, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I can’t lose you.”
Wait… Did he just tell me he loves me? Isn’t it too soon?
I mean, I did just admit I am willingly giving him my heart. Isn’t that the same thing?
Is it? Do I love Noah?
I pull back to study his face, and he studies mine. I see it in his eyes, the adoration and affection, the desperate need to be my hero. Yeah, it’s love shining in those baby blues, and I realize I do. I love Noah Daniel Reed.
Instead of saying it way too soon, I decide to show him how I feel. Pushing him to his back, I roll on top of him, straddling his waist, and cup his cheeks, conveying my intent with my eyes.
My lips find his, swiping slowly, tasting, teasing. He responds, but lets me lead. We kiss tenderly, sweetly, lovingly, while we allow our hands to roam, caressing and comforting. Whatever I’m feeling, he’s making it obvious it’s reciprocated.
I break the kiss long enough to sit up and remove my shirt, laying back down, skin to skin. I feel his heart beat against mine, matching my quickened pace.
We are there in the moment, exactly together.
In an instant, I’m on my back, his lips roaming all over my skin, kissing every inch he finds. His kisses are reverent, worshiping, transcendent. He makes his way across both breasts, down my torso and hips, down one leg and up the other, until he settles between my thighs.
His tongue tastes gently, easily, savoring me as if I’m his last meal. I rock my hips into his face, but he wraps his arms around my thighs and uses his hands to still me. His slow pace is driving me crazy, but I sigh and relax, letting him do whatever he wants. His attention to detail does not go unnoticed, learning my sounds and working hard to get me to make them again.
My orgasm builds to a crescendo, rolling through me leisurely, thoroughly. Once it subsides, he moves up my body slowly, delivering those open-mouthed kisses as the travels, until he gets to my lips, hovering over them for a minute. He rubs his nose along mine and grabs the back of my knee, lifting it to my chest and lining his cock at my entrance. In one smooth, gentle thrust, he enters me slowly, eliciting a deep moan that starts in my toes.
His eyes lock on mine, shining with everything he’s feeling. I’m overwhelmed, caught up in the moment, feeling every inch of him treasure me as I relish him. Tears fill my eyes because this moment… this is filled with beauty and love. He does, he loves me. I feel it surround me, engulf me, empower me. I wrap my arms around him to pull him closer, fusing him to me.
He rolls us so I’m on top and sits up, undulating underneath me, encouraging me to move with him. I now have the opportunity to worship him, running my hands along his head, caressing his face, his shoulders, and down his back. I pull back and smooth my hands along his chest, never taking my leaking eyes off his. His face displays awe and wonder. It’s almost too much.
He wraps his arms around my lower back, burying his lips against my chest right over my heart, and starts to move faster. I roll my hips against his, and he groans deliciously. That noise sets me off, and I arch into him, trembling through my orgasm, and whimper sounds that just fall from my lips into his ear. His hands clutch my hips, driving into me from underneath, until he slams me down on him and stills, moaning his release.
We stay like that, a tangled heap, working simultaneously to control our breathing. I bury my face in his neck, mainly to stop myself form saying the words that really want to fly out of my mouth. When I gain a little control, I begin kissing up his neck to his lips.
We kiss for a long time until my lips become sore and feel swollen. He maneuvers us to lay down, pulling me almost on top of him, and wraps me in his arms, cupping the back of my head protectively to his chest.
I feel more than loved. I’m worshiped and cherished. And I get it.
I do.
For I feel the exact same.
I drift off realizing that what I need to do to save my career doesn’t matter. I just want him.
Thirty Eight
Noah
Despite our late night, I wake up at my normal time tangled in Cristiana. Seriously tangled. Her hair is in my face. Her leg is wrapped around mine so tightly that from the knee down, my leg is all tingly from the restricted blood flow. My arm is trapped underneath her and completely asleep. My back is cramping from our awkward position. She’s drooling on my chest. I have a crick in my neck. I’m covered in sweat everywhere our skin touches. Oh yeah, two times, she woke me up talking in he
r sleep.
I fucking love it. All of it. I want to wake up like this every morning.
And I fucking love her.
I’m pretty sure I’ve felt it for a while, but the realization hit me like a Mack truck last night.
When I disengage my arm, she stirs. I feel her tense against me, so I tighten my arm around her as best as I can since I haven’t gained full feeling just yet.
She lifts her head and wipes her mouth, looking a bit dazed.
“Morning, cariño,” I say softly.
Her sleepy smile is beautiful.
“Hey, güero.” She rolls off me and sits up before stretching, allowing the sheet to fall around her waist, revealing her perfect breasts pointed upward due to her arching back. Right before I pull her to me so I can latch onto her nipple, she announces, “I gotta pee,” gets out of bed, and begins to put on my t-shirt.
I chuckle. “How’s your head?”
She rubs the back of her head. “It’s tender, but I don’t have a headache.”
As she enters the bathroom, I ask, “So what’s the plan for today?”
“Hang on, Noah. I’m not quite to the talking-to-you-while-I-pee phase of our relationship just yet,” she says, grabbing the door knob and throwing me a sassy smirk. “I might not ever be.”
“You finally admit that this is a relationship,” I quip.
She playfully glares at me before she shuts the door. “Shh, peeing.”
Once the door clicks shut, I find my underwear on the floor and put them on. I don’t want her to presume I expect anything from her, and honestly, I need to get to the gym so I can get back into my workout routine before I really do get soft.
