by Dylan Rose
“I don’t know anything about that,” Beatrice said, shaking her head. “But if anyone would, it would be Trudy,” she said gesturing toward an elegant woman sitting by herself watching the TODAY show. “They were best friends.”
“Thank you,” Kenzie said, nodding at Beatrice and making her way over to the elderly woman.
“Hi...” Kenzie started, but Trudy held up a thin hand to silence her.
“Shh!” she hissed. “They’re doing ‘Who Knew?’ It’s my favorite.”
“Sorry,” Kenzie said softly. She stood there and waited patiently until the segment was over.
“What can I do for you?” Trudy asked, turning her attention to Kenzie. She had white-blond hair that was cut in an attractive bob and crystal-blue eyes that seemed to cut right through you. Unlike many of the other residents who were sporting activewear, Trudy was gracefully attired in a delicate blouse and capri pants.
“I think you were friends with my aunt...my aunt Lilly.”
Trudy’s face went pale and her eyes seemed to glaze over.
“You must miss her,” Kenzie said sympathetically. “I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
“Our loss, correct?” Trudy said skeptically. “I guess you’re here about Baracoa,” Trudy said with a hint of resignation in her voice.
“So, you knew about it?”
“Knew about it?” Trudy said incredulously. Kenzie noticed the color rising in the paper-thin skin of her cheeks. “I was the master blender there for fifty-three years!” She paused long enough to take in Kenzie’s shocked expression. “That’s right. Your aunt was the business person, I was the creative.”
“And you stopped working there?”
“I had to. My daughter-in-law says my hands are shaky. But it’s boring just sitting around here, especially now that she’s gone.”
Kenzie had a brain wave. “Why don’t you come back?”
Trudy snorted.
“I’m serious.”
“Doesn’t the Navedo family still own a stake?”
The hairs on Kenzie’s arms flickered awake at the sound of Antonio’s name being spoken.
“Yes, but I, I mean we, have a chance to get it back from them.”
Trudy gestured for Kenzie to sit down next to her, and she complied. “The history is complicated,” Trudy began. Suddenly, she was looking a bit more animated than when Kenzie first walked in. “Your aunt was a secretary at Baracoa and the owner was in love with her. He left the distillery to her when he died. She and I were a great team. But then things got more difficult. We were hemorrhaging money. It was what she had to do to keep Baracoa afloat.”
Now it made sense. Aunt Lilly had only sold shares to Antonio’s family because she was forced to.
“All the more reason we should get it back then,” Kenzie said pointedly. Trudy nodded in agreement as Kenzie’s cell phone began to buzz. “Will you excuse me?” Stepping away, Kenzie contemplated her cell phone screen—it was Antonio. Did she want to speak with him?
“Hello?”
“Kenzie, there’s a problem. You need to come to Baracoa right away,” Antonio said with more urgency in his voice than she had ever heard.
“I’ll be right there,” she said instantly.
Kenzie apologized to Trudy for needing to run but left her cell phone number and emphasized that she hoped she would reach out. She wished she could stay and talk more, and even regretted not ever having gotten to know Aunt Lilly. But then she remembered the way Antonio sounded on the phone and knew it was time to jet.
* * *
When Kenzie arrived at Baracoa, Antonio was standing in the courtyard. There was destruction all around, from building rubble to spilled spirits.
“What happened?” Kenzie asked, trying to take in the scene and make sense of it.
“A wall collapse,” Antonio said, shaking his head. “Nine thousand barrels of aged rum came crashing down. Gone,” he said, emphasizing their sudden disappearance by gesturing with his hands.
From where she was standing, Kenzie could see that gallons of rum had been wasted. There was golden brown liquid spilling out from everywhere and a small team of workers were doing their best to clean it all up.
“What?” Antonio said, his nostrils flaring. God, even when he was angry he still looked sexy. “You’re not accusing me of doing this to sabotage you, are you?”
“I didn’t say that,” Kenzie quickly interjected. Wow. She honestly hadn’t thought of that angle. Maybe the yoga business just wasn’t as cutthroat as the liquor one was.
“I’m sorry,” Antonio apologized, rubbing the furrowed spot between his eyebrows. “Truly, I blame myself. I knew there were structural problems with the distillery, but I ignored it for too long.”
Kenzie reached out and touched his arm gently. “You have a lot going on. You can’t always be on top of everything.”
Antonio snorted. “But I’m supposed to. It’s my responsibility.”
Kenzie wished Antonio wouldn’t be so hard on himself. She knew what that was like, trying to do everything yourself and always coming up short. Putting her feelings for him aside, she thought about her inheritance.
“Is there anything left?” she asked, hoping for good news.
Antonio stepped over some wreckage and gestured into the barrel room. “Some.”
In a gesture of solidarity, or maybe just as a peace offering, Kenzie slid her small hand into Antonio’s.
“It’s truly a tragedy,” she sighed, unable to process what this would mean for the distillery going forward. She looked around at the broken barrels and imagined the rich history of the place—all the people that had worked there, the struggles they had been through. She also couldn’t help but wonder if it would still be possible to recreate the amazing time she and Antonio had together, hiding behind the barrels at Little Havana.
Antonio squeezed her hand tight. “I’m afraid this might be it for Baracoa,” he said gently, putting his arm around her and pulling her in close. Kenzie melted into Antonio’s side, breathing in the scent of his sweat and cologne. The fire that he had lit inside her was still burning strong. Then she said something to him that surprised her, that she had never planned to say.
“I think we need to go get a drink.”
* * *
Antonio wasn’t sure why he was standing in a tapas bar with Kenzie when what he really wanted was to be back in her hotel room, recreating the hot-as-hell chemistry they’d had on their first night together. He never imagined that yoga could be so enticing—or that a woman’s body could be so limber. The way she had opened herself up to him was totally unlike anything he had experienced before. Looking at her now, in those tight denim shorts, standing up on her tiptoes to get the bartender’s attention, he couldn’t help but mentally undress her. He pictured that firm, yet round ass right where he wanted it—directly in his face, his mouth savoring those soft, ample cheeks, his tongue seeking out her forbidden opening. He knew without a doubt that he wanted to lick it, to probe it.
“Want anything?”
Antonio snapped out of his reverie and saw that Kenzie was facing him.
“A beer,” he said.
“Two beers,” he heard her tell the bartender.
“Wait,” Antonio said, grabbing her by the arm. “You’re drinking?”
Kenzie cocked her head to the side. “Yeah. Why not?”
Antonio wasn’t sure of the reasons Kenzie abstained from alcohol, but he knew that the decision to take a drink had to be a heavy one for her. He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that the disaster at Baracoa would surely put her inheritance in jeopardy. He felt a nagging sense of guilt that he had somehow encouraged Kenzie into this predicament of potentially losing both of her businesses. The last thing he wanted to do was to make life more difficult for her.
“You sure?” he yel
led to Kenzie over the thumping bar music.
Kenzie thought for a moment and then nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Well then,” he said, putting aside his worries and leading her to a bar stool that had just opened up, “let’s do this the right way, then.” Antonio leaned across and ordered them both dark, aged rums, the kind meant for savoring and sipping. Kenzie swirled the contents of her glass around, the ice cube bouncing off the sides of the glass as she contemplated it. Antonio watched as she brought the drink to her lips, and slowly imbibed a sip of what he considered to be a rare, intoxicating blend.
“Ooh,” she said turning to him. “That’s strong.”
“What flavors do you taste?” he asked, probing to see if her palate was on point.
“Mmm... I taste caramel,” she said, trying another sip. “It’s warm against the back of my throat.”
“Yes,” Antonio encouraged her. That wasn’t the only thing he wanted against the back of her throat, he thought dirtily. Kenzie was facing him, and he slid his hand up the inside of her thigh.
“It reminds me of maple syrup, a little,” she said, now sounding surer of herself. “I like it.”
Antonio leaned in and placed his mouth over hers, tasting the toffee-flavored liquor on her lips. He explored her mouth with a slow swirl of his tongue. Her lips were parted, and she was open to him. Somehow it was almost more intimate than fucking, and there they were, doing it in full view of all of the other bar patrons.
When she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him in toward her his cock twitched in his pants. It needed to find a home.
“Let’s go back to my place,” he whispered in her ear.
Kenzie looked up at him with lust-drunken eyes. “I have a better idea.”
Before he knew it, she was down off her stool and leading him by the hand through the crowd and toward the restrooms. Kenzie tried several doors that were all locked until she found a single stall bathroom that was free and pulled Antonio in with her and locked the door behind them.
Inside the bathroom, the lights were out, and a candle flickered on the toilet tank, giving the small bathroom a warm glow. The marble sink was modern and the exposed brick walls had been painted to give the interior a rustic look. But Antonio wasn’t focused on the fixtures or the decor. His eyes were fixed on Kenzie’s face. He scrutinized her features, trying to figure out this enigma of a woman. Her lips parted slightly like she was going to speak, but then she didn’t, and he knew the only thing was to go to her, to kiss her. When their mouths met, he felt a strange sense of relaxation. It was a lot to process, what happened at the distillery, but here, entwined with Kenzie, his mouth on hers, suddenly nothing was complicated.
He moved his hands down the length of Kenzie’s amazing figure, exploring her body like he was touching her for the first time again. He wanted to memorize every curve of her body. Kenzie pulled back from their make-out session and smiled playfully at Antonio, raking her fingers through his hair. For a second, he worried that perhaps the liquor was impairing her judgement. After all, she wasn’t used to drinking. Or maybe it was the Miami sun? She had definitely unwound over the past few days. Antonio wondered if he could take some of the credit for that.
“I need you inside me,” she said in a husky voice. It was the only invitation he needed. Antonio pushed Kenzie up against the wall and began kissing her neck while shoving a hand down the front of her jean shorts. Pushing her undies aside with haste, he plunged two fingers inside her and she moaned with pleasure, her body arching back toward him.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered in her ear between long kisses on her neck. He had observantly noticed that there was a spot on the side of her neck that, whenever he kissed it, made her practically purr with pleasure. He loved knowing that he was learning her secret, erotic spots. He looked forward to finding more of them.
Kenzie kissed him back hungrily, biting his bottom lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now,” she instructed him. Antonio’s adrenaline went into the red zone at the suggestion. It shocked him that she could arouse real emotion in him one second, and pure lust the very next.
Not one to disappoint a woman, especially one who knew so very well what she wanted, Antonio spun Kenzie around. She was facing the wall now, her palms pressed into it to steady herself. In one swift motion, he pulled down her shorts and underwear and taking out his cock, plunged it deep inside her.
The little yelp of pleasure she emitted when he first entered her nearly caused him to lose it, but this was too good of a time to not enjoy. Antonio wanted to go fast, to give his audacious new friend the drilling she so rightly deserved. But he knew instinctively that it would be better to go slow, to prolong the pleasure he had to make her—and himself—suffer a little.
With one, two, then three slow plunges, Antonio took his time, letting her feel every inch of him. He could tell she wanted more by the way she wriggled her hips and pushed back into him, but instead of giving in, he grabbed her hip with one hand and reached his other hand around to find the small nub of sensitive nerves at the top of her entrance. Teasing her clit, he continued the slow in-and-out rhythm he’d begun. Kenzie’s cheek was pressed into the wall and he could see the look of ecstasy on her face, and soon she was biting down on her bottom lip.
If she was trying to prolong her orgasm, it wasn’t working. After a few more slow dips, Antonio began to flick her clit faster, knowing that he had found the perfect combination of cock and clitoral stimulation to take her to the edge—and then tumbling over it.
“Please don’t stop,” Kenzie whined, and Antonio had no intention of doing such a cruel thing. The walls of her pussy tightened around his cock as she leaned into his touch, allowing the powerful spasms of orgasm to overtake her.
Just as she began to catch her breath again, Antonio pulled out. He thought about changing positions, about maybe sitting down on the toilet and pulling her onto his lap, but his balls were too heavy, his hard-on too pressured for anything else. Tapping the head of his cock a few times against the softness of her ass was all it took for him to release what seemed like a larger-than-usual orgasm. As he watched the thick, white semen coat the center of her ass and then trickle down the insides of her thighs he took a mental picture of the moment, knowing it would be fodder for another day when he needed it, when Kenzie was gone.
“That was amazing,” Kenzie said, turning around and kissing him.
Antonio wondered what this all meant to Kenzie. Was he her Miami fling or...he hesitated to even let himself think it...something more? On the one hand, their encounters were so primal, so raw, he could understand if it was just about the sex. But then there was the way she kissed him—not just the urgency with which she pressed her mouth to his, or how she grasped his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible. It was the way she unflinchingly met his gaze that told him that just maybe, there was a true connection. At least he hoped there was.
Antonio heard a knock on the bathroom door and quickly pulled up his pants, adjusting himself and trying his best to hold this wave of feelings, both physical and emotional, at bay.
Kenzie looked slightly unsteady as she teetered toward the toilet and sat down. Antonio averted his eyes and straightened his shirt.
“It certainly was,” he said in agreement.
CHAPTER FIVE
WHEN KENZIE AWAKENED the next morning, it took her a few beats to put together where she was. The crisp, white sheets that were softer than anything she’d felt on her body since maybe ever, the floor-to-ceiling windows that the Miami morning sun was pouring through, the artwork hanging on the walls that looked like it was done by an actual artist and not a friend at a paint n’ sip night. Yep, this had to be Antonio’s house.
Kenzie sat up, resting her back on the mountain of pillows behind her. She was alone but could hear the faint sounds of activity coming from somewhere in the house. Closing her eyes, she replayed the ev
ents of the previous night as best she could—she remembered the disaster at Baracoa and then drinks—maybe a few, or just one strong one? She wasn’t sure. What she did remember was the hot sex scene she and Antonio created in the bar bathroom. It was like something from out of a movie, and she couldn’t help but smile thinking about what a wild woman Miami was turning her into.
But quickly enough, the memories of the disaster at the distillery came flooding back. Kenzie wondered if Antonio had gone back over there. Kenzie stretched her arms up over her head, and leaned from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in her shoulders. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The smell of freshly ground espresso filled her nostrils, causing her weary eyes to flicker open, as if suddenly caffeinated.
Just then, Antonio appeared in the doorway. He was already dressed in a T-shirt and joggers, and his usual five o’clock shadow was now dangerously at the point of becoming a full beard.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling at her. Suddenly aware that she was naked, Kenzie pulled the comforter up to her neck and smiled back—a ridiculous gesture of modesty since Antonio had seen every inch of her body last night. He’d seen so much, in fact, that he could probably describe every inch of her body better than she could. Not that a situation would ever necessitate someone describing her lady parts in detail. Never mind. She was spiraling.
“How are you feeling?” Antonio asked, a sincere look of concern crossing his face.
Kenzie took a moment to actually assess herself and produce an answer. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. “Absolutely fine.”
“You got pretty wild last night,” Antonio commented.
“The drinking?”
Antonio chuckled. “You had one glass of rum. No, I’m talking about what happened in the bathroom.” She noticed that anytime he talked about something intimate, he lowered the timbre of his voice. It was so damn sensual, she felt herself getting wet all over again just hearing him speak to her like that.
