Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,34
three times.”
Dad nods his approval. It’s not just because Victor can sell out an arena, but it’s because he really likes Victor, who looks cool as a cucumber. I, on the other hand, feel like I’ve just been through a hurricane.
Victor made me pack a bag before we left my house for dinner. He said he wanted me to spend the night with him again at the hotel. I can’t seem to say no to him, so after dinner with my family, we hop in his car and head to the hotel. I’m relatively quiet for most of the drive. I want to know what he thinks about my family but I’m scared to ask. As usual, he makes it easy for me.
“Your family is great, Babe,” he says, squeezing my knee.
“Really? You don’t hate them for interrogating you?”
“No. I don’t hate them. Your father is a retired police detective. I was mentally prepared for worse. I was actually relieved that it wasn’t.”
“Who are you?” I ask, wondering how it is that he can take things so easily. It seems like nothing bothers him, he’s calm and collected at all times.
“What do you mean?”
“Any other guy would run as fast as they could.”
“I’m not most guys. I know a good thing when I see it.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. What would I even say to such a lovely comment? I’m flattered that he thinks I’m a good thing. I know better, I’m not a good thing. There’s too much baggage that comes with me. Who would wanna shoulder that heavy a load? It’s hard enough to have a relationship with someone normal, but to attempt a relationship with someone who is so clearly damaged is just straight crazy. Victor wanting someone like me is almost as crazy as me wanting someone as wonderful as he is.
When we get back to the hotel, I go straight to the bathroom to get ready for bed, while Victor checks his voicemail and email messages. Now I’m standing in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror wishing I would have grabbed a less revealing pair of pajamas. The black and white cami top hugs my curves. The hot pink, floral lace trim detail call attention to my breasts and the matching boy shorts show off the curve of my ass perfectly. I wanted to look good for him but I don’t want to give off the impression that I am ready for a sexual encounter just yet. I’m not sure that I am. I stare at myself in the mirror, take a deep breath and try not to panic.
I build up my courage to open the bathroom door. As I peek through, I see that Victor’s already shirtless and in bed, reading something on his laptop. I practically run to the bed, get under the covers and lay down with my back to him. The sound of the laptop closing makes my heart race. The bed shifts and an arm comes around me, his hand planted firmly just below my breast.
“What are you doing, Love?” he asks softly, sending shivers through me.
“Uh, I’m just going to sleep. Good night, Victor.”
“I see, because it looked like you bolted from the bathroom and jumped under the covers because you were hiding.”
“Hiding from what?”
“From me,” he whispers in my ear. “I think that maybe you’re afraid to let me see what you’re wearing.” Why does he know everything that I’m thinking? It’s so annoying!
“I’m not afraid.”
“No? Then you won’t mind if I do this,” he says, throwing the covers back and pushing me down on my back. He stares at me in my skimpy pajamas, instantly his eyes go liquid. Gently, he traces the pink lace above my breast. The simple touch is all it takes for the moisture to build up between my thighs. “I like this,” he says.
“You do?” My response comes out a little too breathy.
“Mmmm. You look good enough to eat.” The words sound primal coming from him.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whisper.
He dips his head down to the crook of my neck. I feel his body shaking and realize he’s laughing. “Are you laughing at me?”
Victor lifts his head so that he can look at me, his eyes full of amusement. “Yes. I told you we will go slow. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to do. Okay?” I nod my understanding. “Alright then, back to my exploration,” he says, tracing his finger back over the lace