by J Q Anderson
“I’m glad you came.” He dipped his head down and kissed me, sending a shiver through me. Oh, man, that taste of vanilla frosting. A whirl of dark desire swam inside me.
We sat on the sand, a few yards from the shore where it wasn’t so windy. Over the horizon, the sun stretched lazily, painting the sky with ochre and gold. An old Sinatra song drifted in the air from a party somewhere nearby. Sebastián slipped off his shoes, reached for my feet, and pulled them onto his lap. I stilled.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
I grimaced. My feet were a part of my body I felt self-conscious about: battered, not pretty and soft the way the feet of a girl my age were supposed to be. Most people that weren’t dancers shuddered at the sight.
“Have you ever seen a dancer’s feet before?”
He didn’t laugh or make a joke of it. “May I?”
“Okay…but I warned you.”
He took off my shoes one at a time, then caressed my feet slowly. His hands were warm, gentle. Holding my breath, I watched him as he peeled off my socks, but he didn’t flinch at the sight of the blisters. Then, with diligent care, he kissed my feet one at a time. I nearly expired.
“You’re beautiful.” He looked up and our eyes met. His fingers massaged my feet gently, sending delicious tingles everywhere. His thumbs moved up and down in small circles, and I got lost in the heavenly sensation, the direct skin-to-skin contact sending sweet vibrations between my legs. When he was finished, he pulled off his sweater and stretched it on the sand so I could lie on top of it. Propping his weight on one elbow, he slid down beside me, watching me with hooded eyes.
“Thank you, that felt great,” I murmured. “My poor feet had no rest this week.”
He smiled and gave a soft kiss to my lips, but his eyes held an unknown emotion. Apprehension? He cradled my face in his hand.
“Are we good?” he murmured.
I wanted to drown in the depths of the ice-clear blue of those eyes. He tilted his head, waiting. This was it. I was here. We were here. Standing at the precipice. Should I jump with him? Again? I wanted to jump. I let out a short breath.
“Yes. We’re good. Now come here.” I snaked my arm around his neck, bringing him closer.
He chuckled and rolled on top of me, holding his weight on his elbows. Desire darkened in his eyes. They were liquid, stunning. Our mouths were close, almost touching. His breath brushed my lips, and my stomach spun.
“Sebastián…” My chest heaved up and down, welcoming the inebriating feeling of his whole body on mine. The heat radiating from him was blazing. He hardened and my breathing hitched. God.
Taking my wrists in one hand, he gently pulled my arms over my head. He dipped his head and our mouths brushed. His breath was warm, sweet, and I wanted to kiss him, hard. He ran his tongue along my bottom lip, sending a heat wave through my skin. Holy shit. Forgotten sensations quivered between my legs, and I took a sharp breath.
He kissed me, softly at first, then it slowly deepened. I was spinning, lost in a vacuum where it was just the two of us, tangled. Glancing up through half-open eyes, I pushed my hips against his hard-on, watching his beguiled reaction at my inexperienced attempts to seduce him.
He intertwined his legs with mine and shifted his hips, pressing against me. A warm sensation pooled in my stomach. Our bodies wanted to meld together, the kiss climbed. His fingers raked up my legs, skimming under the light fabric of my dress. My skin was on fire. His hand moved to my backside, his thumbs grazing the edge of my panties. I moaned into his mouth and he pressed harder against me, letting his weight smother me. I mumbled his name, welcoming the sensations while my whole body screamed for more. I panted into his mouth. I wanted all of him.
We kissed until my lips were swollen, desire burning through my veins as his hips rocked against me, following the tempo of his tongue. Trembling and drunk, my heart pounded against his chest.
He groaned, breathing hard against my mouth. “Fuck, Camila.” His voice was husky, his tone gruff as his words teased me into the challenge of breaking his control. Figures in the distance caught my eye: a couple walking away, their hands interlaced.
“I want you,” I said. “But not here. Someone may see us.”
“I’m not worried about appearances, babe.”
“Still…”
“Okay, but I don’t want to stop. Please.”
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kissed him forcefully, adjusting my body under him so he was pressing against all the right places again. Hard denim rubbed the soft silk of my underwear as he resumed the slow, rocking motion, grinding against me, spinning me into delirium. A primal need bottled up inside me screamed. I dug my nails into his back, and a low growl escaped from deep in his throat. It was sexy, addictive, hot. My hands moved to his head, clenching fistfuls of his hair as I pressed myself harder against him. We moved together, his jeans scraping against my thighs. It was heaven, hell, torture, sheer need. It scared me how much I wanted this, needed this. God, don’t stop.
“Camila,” he said through broken breaths, lifting his head slightly, “open your eyes. Look at me.” It was almost impossible to keep my eyes open and not completely surrender to the divine sensations, but I did as he asked. He looked into my eyes and continued the torturing motion, teasing me in and out of delirium. I parted my lips, panting, and he caught every breath. It was total surrender, erotic, even though we were still dressed. From a distance, we were just a couple, fully dressed and making out on a deserted beach. But my panties were soaked, and every time he pushed against me, the feeling between my legs intensified, the need coiling and ready to snap. His sweet, torturous rocking accelerated, driving me to the edge of something that promised to be beautiful.
“Mine,” he whispered against my mouth, pressing his hard-on against my clit. A heat wave exploded inside me. I arched my head back and squeezed my eyes, gasping for air as his mouth ravaged my neck. I moaned, pressing myself to him as I rode the sensation. Letting out a sharp breath against my neck, he interlaced his fingers with mine and pushed one last time, harder. My body trembled in spasms as sheer pleasure filled me. I closed my eyes and floated, weightless, in the most beautiful state of half-consciousness.
We lay in silence as our hearts and breathing recovered their normal pace. I couldn’t move a muscle. I had never felt so completely sated in my entire life. It was as if a giant vacuum had sucked every last trace of stress in me, and it was absolutely divine.
“You are incredible,” he whispered, rolling to his side and caressing my temple. Seriously, how was he getting this backward?
“Mmmm,” I moaned. “That was…” Our eyes met and I and couldn’t finish the thought.
“What?”
“I’ve never felt anything that intense before. And we didn’t even…” I blushed. “Well, you didn’t…I mean, that was all for me.”
Smiling sweetly, he brushed loose strands of hair off my face. “My beautiful crazy girl, so goddamn sexy. I’m just a lucky bastard who got another chance.”
The last of the afternoon sun quickly faded into a sea of orange and indigo. I shivered and Sebastián bundled me in his sweater. In the distance, tiny white lights glimmered from a beach party while Bono sang, “I’ve got you under my skin.” We walked toward the music, a bride and her groom dancing barefoot to the melody among a few dozen guests. The setup was simple but so romantic: white-dressed tables scattered over the soft sand under the dim light of paper lanterns. Sebastián interlaced his fingers with mine. “One dance before we go?”
“Here?”
“Here is perfect. Away from everything and everyone. Just you and me.” He pressed his palm against the small of my back, and we swayed to the spell of the song. The evening wind whipped my hair, and he tangled it in his hand. He was a skillful dancer, and I wondered where he had learned. Surely a private instructor. In families like his, where parties were a regular component of the social routine, dancing well was expected.
We moved to the mu
sic, the heat of his body enveloping mine, sheltering me from the world. I wanted to stay on that side of the river, with him, away from expectations and unreachable dreams and family complications. I pressed my face to his chest, to his heart. Across the massive length of the river, the lights of Buenos Aires sparkled, a callback to the world.
The apartment was dark when I walked in. A note from Marcos was tucked under an apple. It made me smile.
I’ll be back late—chill, a brunette this time.
Hope you had a good day. X, M.
I did a few loads of laundry, showered, and cleaned the apartment, erasing all traces of the tornado Marcos and I had left. I was folding clothes in front of the TV when Nata walked in.
“Hey.” She smiled, dropping her bags by the door.
“Hey. How was Brazil?”
“Incredible.” She threw her coat on a chair and plopped next to me on the couch.
“Yeah? Are you engaged yet?”
“Hell, no.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you haven’t already planned your wedding in your head and the eighty-four redheaded babies you guys will have together.”
She laughed, blushing a bit. “Okay maybe, but we are not quite there yet.”
“What do your parents say? And Sergei?” I asked as I folded the last of my underwear.
“Oh, they love Teo, even Sergei. They hit it right off.” She pulled her shoes off and stretched her long legs onto the coffee table.
“Really? That’s a first. Insanely protective Sergei hitting it off with someone?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Turns out Teo’s family did business with ours a few years back. Papá knew his dad. Small world, whatever. And it doesn’t hurt that Teo is über-protective of me too. Sergei likes that.” She shrugged.
“Well, you deserve a good guy.”
She nodded, watching me with apprehension. “So…” she said. “I talked to Marcos on my way back from the airport.”
Shit.
“He said you and your…boyfriend got into a fight last night? He’s your boyfriend, Cami?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nata.”
“Nata what? You guys are getting serious then?”
To busy myself, I picked up a pile of socks from the laundry basket and started matching them.
“Are you?” she pressed.
“Yeah. We are. And…it would be awesome if you got onboard and stopped making me feel like shit about it. I already have my dad on my back.”
“Good, he should be.”
“No. It’s not good, all right?” I said, tossing the socks aside. “I’m finally interested in someone other than Marcos. You of all people know what that means to me. It’s like…finally! And it’s somebody who feels the same way about me.” I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Cams—”
“No. I know you’ve got this preconceived idea about who Sebastián is and what he does, but I’m telling you, it’s not like that. He’s a decent guy who cares about me. Period. So please, lay off.” I stood and headed to the kitchen for a drink, a bit surprised at my outburst. Opening the fridge, I crouched behind the door, reaching for a can of Diet Coke, blocking her laser eyes from me.
“Look,” she said from behind. “I want to be supportive. It is a huge deal that you are so into someone, and I don’t mean to be a drag about it. But it worries me that out of all the guys you could be interested in, you picked this one. He’s coming on strong, and I don’t want you to get sucked into something that’ll be hard to get out of if you decide it’s not what you want, you know?”
“You’re wrong about him.” I turned, standing.
“I hope I am, but…I doubt it.”
“All right. Let’s just…leave it alone.” I opened the drink and headed back to the couch. She followed and sat beside me, reaching for my hand, her cerulean blue eyes searching mine.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I’ll be careful.”
We finished folding my laundry in silence. I hated this new, dense air between us. I tossed a pair of socks, and they hit her on the forehead. She looked up and smiled, and the weirdness lifted.
“Tell me about Brazil.”
She replayed every detail about her weekend. I could hear the wedding bells in the background, Nata sounded so happy. A pang of sadness flicked my heart. Things between Sebastián’s world and mine didn’t align nearly as easily. There was still so much we needed to learn about each other. I wanted to get to know him, away from all the rest. But that ghostly side of his world lingered, hovering closely.
Chapter 18
The next morning, I engaged every one of my cells into the choreography for Queen Myrta. I wasn’t progressing as quickly as I wanted to, and Madame hadn’t been lying when she said it took so much physical work, but I could literally feel my body get stronger. Rising to the demands of the variation became my new reason to get out of bed in the morning.
Today’s rehearsal was particularly challenging, and I was glad for the distraction so I wouldn’t agonize over the next three hours until I saw Sebastián for lunch. Madame eyed me warily, nodding as she walked by.
During my break, I sat against the back wall, drying the sweat off my neck as I downed a bottle of water. Nata slid next to me and pulled out a bottle with a deep green liquid in it.
I made a face. “What the hell is that.”
“A vitamin boost. You should try it. Kale, spinach, celery, and—”
“Okay, okay, gross, I don’t need to know any more.”
“You’re doing well, Cams. You almost have that new variation down.” She downed her concoction in one gulp and pulled out a water, took a few sips, then tightened the ribbons on her pointe shoes.
“My ankle’s killing me. I see stars whenever I put my whole weight onto it. I’m glad Vronsky didn’t say anything.”
She nodded in understanding. Dancing through injuries was just another part of our routine. Nata let out a sigh while stretching her neck to both sides. “Wanna have lunch at the vegan stand after this?”
“I can’t. I need to run a couple of errands.”
“Vronsky’s back,” she murmured, then stood and left without turning.
At the lunch break, I quickly changed into the jeans and top I brought for my date with Sebastián, and bolted downstairs.
He was waiting against the BMW, Rafa reading a newspaper at the wheel. In faded jeans, a white linen shirt rolled at the sleeves, and aviators, Sebastián looked like a model from a Ralph Lauren ad. When he saw me, he lowered his glasses and smiled. A sudden breeze messed his hair, and I half expected a stampede of women elbowing their way to get a number and stand in line for that smile. Damn, he was all mine.
He pulled me into his arms, tipping his head down to kiss me.
“I’ve been thinking of you all morning.” He trailed kisses on my jaw while his arms pressed me against him, sending shivers up my back. I gripped his biceps and pushed away.
“Let’s go,” I said. Turning, I opened the back door and slipped across the seat. He followed with an amused expression.
“In a hurry?” He chuckled.
“I only have a little over an hour.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Away from here. How about somewhere near your studio?”
“Great. I can show you off, and there’re a lot of good places around there.”
The Palacios y De la Viña studio in Puerto Madero was an expansive building of exposed brick bearing the nostalgia of the Buenos Aires docks in the 1900s. Inside, the work spaces were airy and surprisingly modern. Everything about the recycled loft had been designed with flawless efficiency. Bright midday sun filtered in from shrewdly spaced skylights, giving the spacious suites a clean, bright feel. Facing the river, oversized windows lined the ground floor. Inside, glass-walled offices bordered an open lounge area with plush, stylish couches, a pool table, and an espresso and draft beer bar. The rich smell of coffee lingered in the air. From a h
igh corner, a giant screen featured Kelly Slater in one of those surfing documentaries in white-sand beaches. It looked like an awesome place to work.
Sebastián showed me around and introduced me to some of the staff. They greeted me with warm smiles, watching us with amused curiosity. Most of the employees were in their early to mid-thirties, the majority of them men. A tall, young woman in a gray pencil skirt and immaculate makeup approached Sebastián and smiled broadly as she handed him a manila folder.
“Romina, this is my girlfriend, Camila.” Sebastián smiled back, wrapping his hand around my waist. A wave of heat rose to my face.
Romina greeted me warmly, introducing herself as the studio manager. I also met a few of the architects, but there were no signs of Sebastián’s partner, Julián. When I asked about him, Sebastián said he was due back from Germany the next day.
Sebastián’s own office was an immense, glass-walled sanctuary with a stunning corner view of the golden river. Holy shit. Unbidden, that feeling that I was in way over my head returned.
He locked the door and touched a switch next to it. The glass walls instantly darkened into gray fog. A sly smile played on his lips as he sauntered towards me. My heart pumped hard.
“I missed you. After yesterday, I can’t seem to focus on anything else.” He took my hands, turned me around, and hugged me from behind, squeezing me tight while he trailed kisses along my neck. His erection pressed my backside and my whole body shivered. He pinned me against a massive architect’s drawing table facing the window. I closed my eyes, letting the delicious thrill travel through me. Warm moisture pooled between my legs, wetting my panties. Jesus, how much longer could I resist him?
“One day I will take you here, bent over my drawings,” he whispered in my ear. His breath was hot. I gasped and he squeezed me tighter, kissing my neck sensually. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Do you know how sexy you are? What you do to me?”
His hands caressed my breasts, and my nipples immediately hardened. I relaxed in his arms, savoring the sensation. I was breathing hard and wondered idly if anyone in this office knew what we were up to.
