by J Q Anderson
“Perfect.” He glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Straight home.”
I stretched in my chair after dinner while Sebastián refilled our wineglasses. I had showered, changed into clean clothes, and was absolutely replete with Marcél’s sinful cannelloni.
“I’m glad I don’t have a Marcél,” I said. “I’d be rolling out the door.”
“Yes, he’s amazing. Puts my Italian relatives to shame.”
I glanced through the windows to the forest outside, the treetops brushing the sky in their waltz with the wind.
“Everything okay?” he said, gently squeezing my hand in his. “You were very quiet on the way home. Are you tired?”
“A little. But it’s not that.” I looked down at our interlaced hands.
“What is it? Are the Russians giving you trouble? They better not be, or I’ll—”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “They’re not giving me trouble, and please don’t talk like that about them. Nata is my friend, and you don’t really know what it’s like to have to watch your back just because you weren’t born here.”
“I know plenty about having to watch my back. But what’s the matter, then?”
“It’s about…the guns.”
“What guns?”
“The guns. The guns in general. Until the other day, I had no idea everyone around me—Rafa, Alexei, and the others—all carry guns. I’m very uncomfortable around them.”
“I can’t speak for your…friends, but we only use guns for protection. In fact, I don’t like them either. Most of the time I don’t even carry one myself, even though Rafa insists on it. But when you belong to a family like mine, unfortunately, that also means you have to protect yourself. Babe…” He lifted my chin, searching my eyes. “It’s okay. I would never let anyone hurt you.”
“I know…”
“No, I need you to understand that,” he said in a soft, concerned tone. “Your safety is very important to me. And if that means we need armed bodyguards around us all the time, that’s what we do. This is not something we can negotiate on, okay? I need you to be okay with it.”
I took a deep breath. This was one of those red flags, a pretty damn neon one. One of those things people ask after a disaster: Didn’t you see the signs? So, what now?
“There’re no guns around the house,” he said. “I have one, but it’s locked away. Only my bodyguards carry them, and they’re concealed most of the time.”
“But what happened the other day…it was in broad daylight. What the hell, Sebastián?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Things with the Russians have been tight lately. They do business with my father, and there have been problems. We’ll just have to make sure we keep things separate and more civil. Rafa was only being protective.”
“Does this have anything to do with the Russian girls?”
“Christ, Camila. No. You need to let that go. The tension with the Zchestakovas has to do with the way they handle their business at the docks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before? That there are problems between your family and theirs and you’re tied to them through your business?”
“Because it’s not my business. It’s my father’s, and I’m not directly involved. I don’t want my father’s business dealings to come between us. Look, I know things are probably tense for you and your friend, but let’s just keep things separate, okay? I personally don’t have anything against them, and they better not be giving you crap about being with me.”
He waited for my response. I just shook my head no.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s just put this behind us. I’ll make sure Rafa tones it down around them.” He squeezed my hand. “Are we okay?”
I nodded. He pulled me to him and kissed me softly.
“Come,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to the living room. He threw in a few logs into the fireplace, and soon after, a full fire crackled to life. Sliding next to me on the couch, he reached down and gently took my Converse off.
I tensed. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a foot massage. I remember you enjoying it the last time.”
I smiled and he scooted back, bringing my feet onto his lap as we lay back facing each other on opposite ends of the couch, my legs in between his. He began massaging my feet gently, careful to avoid the tapes concealing my blisters. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the tension slowly leave my body.
“You said you have Italian relatives,” I said without opening my eyes. The sensation rising from my feet to the rest of me was heavenly. “But Palacios sounds…Spanish.”
“My mother was Italian. The Ricci family. Most of them are still there.”
“Sicily?” I stifled a smile.
“Cute. No. My family is actually from the north. My mother was from Bologna.”
“Tell me about them. Mmmm. That feels so good.”
“My father met her on one of his business trips to Italy. They were young, and he was being groomed to take over my grandfather’s businesses at the docks. My mother’s family was simple and very conservative, so the idea of her dating a foreigner was out of the question. But my father, being who he is, knew what he wanted. And he wanted my mother. They were in love, and he convinced her he would change their minds.
“And did he?”
“For thirty days and thirty nights, my father sat outside the Ricci home, holding a bouquet of white roses. He would leave it at their door, then get a new one the next day and wait for her to come out and accept them, accept him.”
“Oh my God. I’m dying, what happened?”
“My mother’s brothers beat him up a few times. They called the cops, everything they could think of to get rid of him. He was thrown in jail a few times, but as soon as he was out, he was right there again, outside her window, waiting with a new bouquet of white roses.”
I shook my head. “And this is your father we’re talking about. The man everyone tells me is the King of the Argentinean docks. Tough, ruthless.”
“The very same.”
“So, she came out one day…obviously.”
“She did. Her parents came around and finally gave their blessing. Though my father had to promise to bring her back for every Christmas and let her spend the summers with the family if she wanted.”
“That is so romantic.”
He lifted my feet and pressed a soft kiss on each one. “I am glad you’re here,” he said softly. “Dance with me.” He stood, reached for my hand, and tugged gently. “You and me.”
The house was quiet. I wondered if his men were lurking somewhere close by.
“Where is everyone?”
“I gave my staff the night off,” he said. His eyes darkened with a carnal promise.
A soft, velvety female voice crooned from somewhere in the air. He took my hand, then enclosed me in his arms. My body trembled as his hands stroked my skin, awakening the pent-up desire inside me. His thumbs caressed the soft fabric of my shirt over my ribs, grazing my breasts, and I wanted to melt. Was it possible to want someone this much? He tipped his head down, and those clear eyes met mine, dark desire burning in the pale background. And there it was again, the pull, a seamless bond between us. It didn’t matter who he was, or who I was. It was just us. He held my gaze in silence. I had never known you could say so much without speaking a single word. Our bodies swayed to the soft melody of the song, a sexy ballad of love and surrender. His thumb traced my bottom lip, and his eyes focused on my mouth. My heart beat faster. Hot desire pulsed in my blood as he inched closer, sending goose bumps down my back, pressing soft kisses on my jaw, then my mouth. Lust coursed through me. Rolling to my toes, I curled my arms around his neck. He lifted me and, in one move, lowered me down to the plush rug with him. He climbed over me, sliding his leg between mine. I moaned into his mouth, desire pooling between my legs. His fingers skimmed my shirt up, grazing my stomach, tracing a path of fire on my skin. I pressed myself to him and, hooking my fing
ers on the hem of his shirt, I pulled it over his head. He unbuttoned my shirt with painfully slow movements, savoring the contact with my blazing skin. Then his mouth followed the path of his fingers, trailing kisses down my chest and around the lace of my bra. His hand unhooked the clasp at the front before sliding it with my shirt down my arms. His gaze trailed down my bare torso, then he looked up at me.
“God, I want you. You are so beautiful.” He kissed the corners of my mouth, then my neck, teasing me with his tongue as he traveled down to my breasts. He cupped one and closed his lips around my nipple, his tongue tracing torturing circles, then he moved to the other, kissing, gracing his teeth against my skin. Christ, I was on fire. I felt exposed, but everything about him was sensual, confident. His free hand slipped under the band of my jeans and unbuttoned them. I lifted my hips to help him pull them down and, as he did, his fingers covered the length of my legs, caressing every inch. Adjusting his body between my legs, he pushed his hard-on against me. I inhaled sharply, arching my back. I had never wanted anything so badly. His fingertips brushed the inside of my thigh, trailing up, teasing my desire. His hand moved between my legs, then stopped before sliding back down. I clasped his wrist and moved his hand back into place, grinding my hips against it to let him know what I wanted. Smiling against my mouth, he caressed me through the soft silk of my panties. My whole body trembled when his thumb slipped under the fabric, slowly stroking the moisture back and forth over my clit. My muscles clenched, and I pushed harder against him.
“Sebastián…”
A sea of sensation flooded me, aching for a release. I rocked my hips against his finger, mirroring his pace. His mouth covered mine, and he slipped two fingers inside me. I gasped and he continued his torturing assault, sliding his fingers back and forth, sending me over the edge while he ravaged my mouth. A heavenly feeling invaded me. The heat expanded, my body quivering with pleasure, lost. I moaned. His hand pressed hard against me and I exploded in a spiraling orgasm.
I smiled as my body trembled in aftershocks. Collapsing at his side, I sighed, spent. His fingers caressed my stomach while my heart stuttered to its normal pace. I sneaked a peek at his profile. Damn. How did I get so lucky?
“Sebastián, that was—”
“Just a preview.” His eyes darkened. “Now I want you in my bed.” Oh my. Picking me up in his arms, he carried me to his bedroom. I rested my head on his shoulder and kissed his neck, high on the ecstasy of being in his arms with nothing between our bare skin.
He carefully lowered me down to the bed. I watched him take off his jeans, admiring that perfect body. As a dancer I was used to being around sculpted men. Hell, Marcos was practically Photoshopped, but Sebastián…Anticipation sang in my veins. This half-naked god was about to make love to me. Finally.
He crawled onto the bed, propping himself on his elbows, his body over mine.
“I love the way you smell, the way you sound when I’m kissing you, the way you move. I’m one lucky bastard.” He grinned, his lips teasing me as he spoke, his nose brushing mine.
“Shhh,” I whispered against his mouth. “Stop talking.”
He kissed me hard. His hands caressed my waist, wrapping around my back and squeezing me tight. Slowly, his fingers traveled down and slipped into my panties, caressing my backside. Hooking his thumbs on the lace, he pulled my underwear down. I ran my nails along his back, and he shivered. Tucking my hands under the band of his boxers, I eased them down with clumsy hands. He kicked them off and pressed his body against mine. He was hard, hungry, big, the contact of his bare skin on mine blazing. He kissed my neck, running his tongue along my collarbone to the soft indentation in the middle. His mouth moved down slowly, his lips tracing every inch of my skin. He kissed my breasts one at a time, following the path to my stomach. My skin was on fire. I moaned and closed my fists in his hair, pulling hard. He groaned as his mouth trailed down, his tongue torturing me, sending shivers down my back, my insides quivering with want.
Where is he going…is he—Oh. My. God.
I felt his tongue between my legs, and I thought I was going to combust. Part of me was embarrassed, I had never felt so exposed, but the pleasure was blinding. His hands slid to my thighs, pulling my legs farther apart as he continued with the sweet assault. My body moved in sync with his mouth, rocking slowly, lost in the delicious sensation. I pulled his hair harder and pushed him against me as everything inside me began to quicken, dark pleasure building. He let out a soft groan, and it rippled through me. I climbed higher, higher. My broken breaths filled the room. I cried out loud as a tidal wave slammed into me, spiraling me into an unconscious bliss. He quickly eased up and kissed me hard on the mouth while my body melted into surrender. I tasted my own saltiness in his mouth, and despite what I would have imagined, it made the moment so intimate, hotter. Propping up on one elbow, he looked into my eyes, our breaths colliding.
“Fuck, Camila. You taste so sweet. My girl…Baby, if this hurts, you have to tell me, and I’ll stop, okay?”
I nodded, panting. I couldn’t imagine pain bad enough to make me want to complain, much less stop. Yeah, please don’t stop. He reached for something in the nightstand drawer. Gripping the condom between his teeth, he ripped the foil open. It was sexy as fuck.
“Wait,” I breathed. He frowned.
“I’m on the pill, and…you don’t need to worry about STDs because…well, you know why. You?”
“I get tested every few months, and I haven’t been with anyone since the last time. Why are you on the pill?”
“It helps with my cycles,” I said. Was I really discussing my cycles with a guy?
A winning grin stretched his lips as he let the foil packet drop from his mouth. He claimed my mouth hungrily, his tongue dancing with mine. He eased into me, slowly, and I let out a sharp breath. Fuck. My body tensed and he pulled his head back.
“You okay?”
“Yes, yes. Please…don’t stop.”
He inched in slowly, filling me completely. A burning sensation stung as he pressed deeper. Then he began moving with a sweet, rocking motion, slow and gentle. I squeezed my legs around his waist and matched his pace, ignoring the discomfort, tracing my fingers on his back and up his neck to his hair.
“God, you feel incredible,” he mumbled, the words drowning in my mouth. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged. He moaned against my neck and started moving faster. Oh, man. It was heavenly. I phased in and out of consciousness while his mouth ravaged me, our fingers interlaced as we melded our bodies.
“Fuck, Camila.” He slammed harder, deeper, and I couldn’t hold the torrent of sensation that exploded inside me. I cried out loud, lost. My body convulsed as we found our release together, and I free-fell in a sky peppered with stars. Sebastián collapsed on top of me, our hearts banging against each other’s chests. He nuzzled my neck, burying his face in my hair.
“Holy shit, Camila.” His soft breath tickled my neck, and he pulled his head up to look into my eyes. “I never knew…What I just felt…You are amazing.” His eyes burned with awe and…veneration? He pressed a soft kiss to my lips.
“I didn’t do anything.” I smiled, breathless. “It was all you. Did you forget I’m a rookie at this?”
He kissed the tip of my nose, my chin, and my lips. “Baby, you can do the same things with a million different people, and it would never be like this.”
“A million, huh? And here I had you pinned as the selective type.”
He rolled to his back and let out a throaty laugh. “No, not a million.”
“Close?” I raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
He turned and caressed my cheek, brushing my hair off my face. “You’re the most beautiful, unexpected thing that’s ever happened to me.” The sincerity in his eyes was disarming. “I would do anything for you. I want you to always remember that.”
I squinted in the morning sun and stirred, tangled in the soft sheets of Sebastián’s glorious bed. I stretched out my hand beside me and f
ound an empty space where his body should have been.
His fingertips brushed my back from behind, sending chills up my neck. He leaned down to plant a kiss on my bare shoulder. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said softly.
I turned to see his pale eyes assessing me with amusement. He looked fresh and impossibly beautiful in a plain, gray T-shirt and faded, light blue jeans. Wet strands of raven hair fell artfully around his face. I’m a lucky girl.
“Hmmm, you look pretty gorgeous yourself.” I grinned.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel…amazing,” I whispered. A blush rose to my cheeks, and a crooked smile curved his lips. It sent my pulse racing.
“Last night was incredible, baby. It’s late, I think I wore you out. Are you sure you’re all right?” He caressed my back rhythmically, tracing invisible patterns.
“Yes, a bit sore, but…” I smiled. “I’m better than all right.”
He breathed a smile on my shoulder. “I guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of the day pampering you.”
My stomach interrupted our intimate moment with a growl.
“Hungry?” he chuckled.
“Famished.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him back to bed, forgetting all about my stomach and everything else.
Chapter 20
I packed the last of my clothes into my bag. I was showered, dressed in clean clothes, and absolutely starving. Who knew sex could make you this hungry? I blushed. The memory of Sebastián’s hands exploring me made my skin tingle all over again. I had finally crossed the line of making love for real and ripped the almost-virgin label off my forehead.
A flick in the back of my mind snapped me out of my bliss. This was real. Things with Sebastián were moving along quickly. No more fooling around. This was where I had to stop being the lust-smitten girl and take control. It was time to know more about him and face the black cloud that was his family.
I pulled my jeans up and winced at the burn between my legs. Smiling inwardly, I followed the scent of fresh coffee to the kitchen.
