by Reina Torres
He didn’t say anything back to her and she was grateful. She didn’t think she could hear another nice, sympathetic word from Vicente Bravo.
“There’s one thing he didn’t count on, you know?”
Vicente swept his tongue over his bottom lip and she felt something spark inside of her, something lower… baser… to go along with the flare of outrage in her chest.
“He didn’t count on how much of my parents I carry with me. I’m not just a King because I carry the name. Generations of Kings left their marks on Texas because they were just too damn stubborn to give up.
“Land disputes. Cattle rustlers. Envy. Murder. Sin and temptation have snapped limbs off the family tree more than any natural disaster could, but we’re still here.” She laughed and he heard the rough scratch of it in her throat. “And I’m going to be here for a long time if I have anything to say about it.”
She saw a little bit of relief in his expression and it made her smile even more.
“You were worried that I was going to fold, right? You thought I was going to curl up in a little ball and cry all day?”
He didn’t have to open his mouth to answer her, she saw it written in his eyes.
“Well, I’m not. I’m feeling like I want to flex a little of my own muscle today, Agent Bravo. I want to make my own decisions.”
She watched him let out a slow breath as he leaned back against the sofa cushions.
He still wore his clothes from the night before, looking a bit rumpled like he was ready to do the walk of shame as he went home.
But he wasn’t.
Going home, that is.
He was there.
With her.
And she wasn’t going to waste any more time waiting to see what the right move was. She was done doing that.
She stood up, nudging the paperwork out of the way with her foot.
Sloane watched as Vicente pulled his legs back until his calves were up against the front of the sofa. He was expecting her to walk past him.
Well, she was done doing what was expected.
She stopped when her feet were tucked in between his, her eyes cast down at his face, her hands nervously smoothing her palms against her sides. The soft silk felt like heaven against her skin, but she was dying to know what his morning stubble would feel like as well.
And after that, she wanted more.
Leaning over, she set her hands on his shoulders and looked him square in the eye.
“This morning,” she watched him carefully, “did you want me?”
She saw his eyes darken as he drew in a breath that filled his lungs.
“Vicente?”
His breath caught at the sound of his name on her tongue, and she rolled the sensation of it over and over in her mouth.
He watched her like a hawk, his gaze moving over her face and down to her throat before dipping to the fabric loosening at the neckline of her robe.
“I remember,” she spoke again and watched him shift against the sofa, “I remember how hard you were, the way you moved against me.”
“Yes,” the words rolled off of his tongue like honey, thick and warm, “I wanted you.”
She moved closer and he leaned his head back just enough to keep looking in her eyes. While she had him focused on her face she straddled him on the sofa, loving the soft brush of his slacks against the backs of her thighs.
By the time she settled herself on his lap, she felt the hard press of his erection between her thighs.
“Looks like you still do.”
Gripping his shoulders in her hands she rolled her hips against him, sliding over his thick length with a soft sigh. She closed her eyes and repeated the motion again, concentrating her focus on the feel of their delicious friction.
When she opened her eyes, she saw the way his hands fisted the sofa cushions as if he needed help keeping his hands to himself.
“Are you trying to hold back on me, Vicente? Don’t you want to touch me as much as I want to touch you?”
He bit his teeth into his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes as she eased her thighs apart, just the littlest bit, bringing her flush against him with a slow breathy sigh.
“That wasn’t a no, Vicente.”
“I should have kept my hands off of you this morning.”
She shrugged and took her hands from his shoulders. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw a flicker of disappointment on his face.
But she definitely saw a flare of interest when her hands tugged at the belt of her robe and let the ends fall from her hands.
And his gaze fell from her face to her bare breasts and it was easy to read the appreciation in his gaze and the warming flush under his darker complexion.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me, Sloane? Do you have any idea what you’re playing with here?”
She shook her head, but kept her eyes level, focused on him.
It was a heady sensation for her, knowing that she had him on edge. She’d closed herself off for so long that feeling the physical evidence of his arousal pushed tight between her legs felt as if she’d somehow conquered something from her past.
“I’m not playing with anything, Vicente. I’m not about games. Especially not with you.” She rose up slightly on her knees and cupped his face in her hands.
Sloane leaned forward until she could feel his breath on her lips.
“Tell me, Vicente. Tell me if you want me, or am I making a fool of myself, asking you to touch me… taste me… make me fall apart like no one has ever done before.
“I want to lose myself in your arms and feel you deep inside of me.” She hesitated, losing some of her confidence. “I’ve never asked a man to-”
He surged up against her, his hands grasping the sides of her face mirroring her own, sealing their lips against each other. She held on to him as his tongue traced the seam of her lips and she sighed when she opened her mouth and let him in.
Still, she wasn’t going to let him take charge of all the fun. Pushing him back against the sofa, she used her hands to turn his head slightly to one side and traced her nose along the side of his neck just beneath his ear. She felt him shudder, just a little, as she drew in his scent.
It was that subtle spicy scent that she was desperate to taste, and so she did.
Parting her lips over his pulse, she swept her tongue over the same spot, listening to him mutter unintelligible words under his breath before she scraped her teeth along the same path.
His hands found their way back to her shoulders and slid the neckline of the robe down her arms to her elbows.
The shift of her clothing pulled her arms tight and she felt her elbows tuck in against her sides and lift her breasts just a little higher and into his hands.
How he found them with his face lifted up to the ceiling she didn’t know, but she didn’t really care when she felt his thumbs sweep over her nipples, catching ever so slightly on the tightened peaks.
Sloane’s teeth bit deeper into his neck at her sudden jolt of pleasure at his touch.
Turning her head slightly to the side, she placed her cheek against his heated skin and moaned. “More.”
Again, his thumbs danced over her nipples and she drew in a stuttering breath when his fingers pinched both of them, twisting ever so slightly as his pulled on her tender flesh.
He turned his head toward her as his fingers worked her flesh over again. “More? Is this what you like?”
She felt her body weep as his fingers tugged her closer to him, leaning forward when he cupped her breasts in his hands, using his palms to soothe the stinging sensations.
“Yes,” she leaned into his touch, “I like your hands on me, Vicente, but-”
“You need more, don’t you?”
“You can play with me later, Vicente. You can do whatever you like to me… later. Right now,” she pushed her hands between them, her fingers tugging at his shirt front, plucking at his buttons in much the same way he’d touched her bre
asts, “I need you inside me.”
“Sloane-”
“We can do slow later. I need you hard… and fast… and so damn deep I-”
He stood, wrapping one arm around her back, the other pushing off the sofa arm to get him onto his feet. She clung to him with an arm around his neck, her other hand working at the buttons down the front of his shirt.
“We could have stayed there,” she slanted her lips across his mouth, “I wouldn’t mind.”
He chased her lips, searching for another kiss and she felt him reach a hand under her and hoped he was going for his belt. “I would mind, Sloane. The first time I take you I need room. I want you laid out on that bed of yours so you can watch everything I do to you.”
Vicente stepped through the doorway into her bedroom and managed to lay her down and avoid her hands as she tried to pull him down with her.
He knelt on the bed and spread her robe open. “And here I thought you’d done all the work for me.”
Sloane smoothed her hand down the side of her body and hooked her thumb into the waistband of her panties, sliding around to the narrow band high on her hip. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind offering me a hand.”
He muttered something under his breath and she smiled at him. “You keep doing that,” she smoothed her tongue over her lower lip, hungering for a taste, “talking to yourself when you look at me.”
“I’m not talking to myself,” he shook his head, “I’m praying for patience, Sloane.”
“Patience?” She lowered her other hand and hooked her thumb on the opposite narrow band. “Am I that annoying?”
“No,” he moved closer on his knees and then dropped down landing on his fists on both sides of her hips, his face less than a foot from her belly, “you’re that tempting and I’m trying to hold back because I don’t want to scare you.”
She planted her feet on the bed. “Like I told you, we can do slow later, I need you.” She lifted her bottom off the bed and started to push her panties down over her hips.
Before she got it down to her tailbone, he pulled the delicate garment from her fingers, and set a knee under her backside to keep her hips high enough to pull her panties free without making the motion uncomfortable for her.
For one tiny moment she thought of thanking him for the consideration, but then her focus was elsewhere.
With the heady sensation of her panties sliding over the backs of her thighs, she saw him reach for his belt with his free hand. The buckle was undone and all it took was a tug to free both ends.
She watched him make quick work of his top button and then slide the zipper pull down with a hushed whisper.
Sloane reached out a hand, eager to touch him, but he brushed it away.
“Stop distracting me!”
He pushed his pants down off so his hips and his boxers went with it.
When Sloane saw the crown of his cock revealed by the rush of movement, she felt her mouth go dry, and an answering rush of liquid heat between her thighs.
Vicente lifted up, his hands shoving his clothing down his thighs, baring himself to her gaze from the root of his cock to the top. “I’ve felt you in my dreams, Sloane. Held you in my arms. Taken you over the edge with my name on your lips.”
She panted out a breath and then another. “Then why are you making me wait, ‘Cente? Take me there.”
He lowered her down to the bed and pushed his pants to the floor, only sparing a moment to reach into his wallet for a silver packet.
She lowered her knees to the side, keeping her eyes on his face so she could see his reaction. Revealing herself before his watchful gaze was a leap of faith in and of itself.
He laid his hands on her calves, smoothing a heated trail along her skin, putting just enough pressure on the inside of her knees to press them down against the mattress.
Vicente crawled between her legs, balancing one hand on the sheets beside her while the other turned, and he traced his trimmed nails along the tender inside of her thigh.
Shifting on the bed beneath him, she tried to keep herself still before him, but couldn’t seem to help the subtle lift of her hips from the cool bedding beneath her. “Come on-”
“I’m going to taste you, Sloane. Maybe not today, but soon. You can’t show me-”
“Enough,” she sat up and hooked a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Once she had her lips on his she wrapped her other arm around his shoulder and firmly planted her hand on his back.
She wasn’t sure exactly what his reaction had been to her surprise attack, but it felt like just a few heartbeats before he hooked her leg over his forearm and slid the tip of his erection through her folds. A second heady swipe against her sex was all it took and when he shifted his hold on her, she sank down onto his cock, her whole body wrapping around his heat, embracing him as if her life depended on it.
And maybe it did.
The aching loneliness in her heart was gone, chased away like the dawn pushed back the night.
All it took was Vicente sinking into her willing heat, filling her up.
The groan that poured from her lips vibrated through her body and then his. He bit down on his bottom lip as his eyes raised to hers.
The dark passion in his gaze threatened to swallow her whole, and pull her under, but he held her up, gave her his air, and his body.
It was a heady combination that began to heat the air around them. The first thrust of his hips pushed the air from her lungs, the second pulled it back in. As he stroked into her body over and over all she could do was hold on and reach for that elusive edge, climbing higher and higher as he held her against him. The tight tips of her nipples drew long invisible lines up and down his chest as he thrust up into her body, pushing her up toward heights she’d never seen before… never felt.
And it was there, she couldn’t see the edge, but she felt it.
And she felt his mouth feeding on hers.
And his hands everywhere on her skin.
Her back bowed and her hands clung to him even as everything she was imploded and reformed in his arms.
He didn’t let her go. He didn’t lay her down.
As he came with a shout, his body locked with hers, he gathered her closer and held her against his heat, blocking out the world.
Chapter 10
When the pounding started, Vicente thought it was in his head. The incessant rhythm could have been ignored if it hadn’t turned into the ‘shave and a haircut’ riff that his family had used since his earliest memories and coupled with the ‘Bidi Bidi Bom Bom’ ringtone that identified the evildoer as his sister Pilar he knew he had better answer the phone before she knocked down the door.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Well, well, you were asleep.”
The smug huff in her tone grated on his nerves.
“I was getting some rest. You might have heard that we were out in the early morning hours and-”
“Hermano, we were all out in the early morning hours. The Quinceanera finished just after midnight and the rest of the family stayed to do clean-up. So, let me in. I have coffee and food for lunch. We need a plan.”
“We,” he hissed through the phone, “aren’t ready to deal with your kind of sunshine this early.”
“Early,” she drew the word out with a definite grin in her tone, “as in early afternoon? It’s almost two, Agent Bravo, and you are asleep on the job.” Her jab was punctuated with a laugh. “I’m sure Sloane is ready to kick you off of her couch, lazy boy.”
Vicente looked over at the other side of the bed and resisted the urge to smile. Sloane was fast asleep, naked except for the sheet that one of them had managed to pull up before they fell asleep.
He could still feel her lips and hands all over his body, the slight rasp of her toes against his legs, the soft gasp when he’d closed his lips over her-
“Exactly what is taking you so long to come and open the door, ‘Cente? Her place isn’t that big. Hell, it’s al
most the same size as mine, so why didn’t she come to the door and-”
“Can you stop talking long enough for me to answer, Chiquita?” He grinned, knowing that calling her a little girl would buy him a moment of sisterly indignation. “Let me get some clothes on and I’ll-”
As a police officer, Pilar had the same extensive vocabulary of curse words and chose that moment to display them in a vastly amusing chain of expletives before she hissed into the phone. “Then do it and open the door before I break it down, cabrón.”
His mouth quirked up at the corner. “Keep your pants on, Pilar. I’ll be right there.”
“At least I have some on.”
Ending the call, he set the phone down on the bed and easily found his pants at the floor by the foot of the bed. Shrugging them on, he didn’t bother to look for his shirt. The color of the dress shirt blended in with some of the bedclothes and it wasn’t worth letting his sister stew any longer.
Vicente walked into the main room of the apartment scrubbing his palm over his face, trying to dispel some of the remaining sleep from his eyes.
A quick tap at the security panel and the green light told him it was safe to open the door. A couple of deadbolt locks and a few seconds later and he pulled the door open.
Pilar pushed in, her knowing eyes seeking him out behind the door with an eagle-like glare. “Did you-”
He touched his finger to his mouth. “Cállate! Get inside before you start on me.”
She pursed her lips together and pushed the door open further with her elbow, forcing him to catch it with a hand before the inside knob hit him in the crotch.
“Watch what you’re doing.”
Pilar arched a brow at him, her perfectly painted lips in a smirk as she looked him up and down. He knew what she was seeing and she didn’t like it one bit. Still he shut the door and locked her inside the apartment with him.
His hair was mussed. His shirtless chest probably had a few well-placed bite marks if his memory served him correctly. And his pants.
He looked down to make a quick check and heard his sister groan.
“Thank goodness you managed to zip up before you came to the door.”
