eggs with tomato and onions accompanied by an arepa with fresh cheese. That sweet girl can appreciate a fancy meal but yearns for comfort and ease.
I saw it in the way she enjoyed our lunch date.
I saw it last night when Geronimo offered her a quick bite only available to her during the gala.
Something so simple brought a smile to her face that lit up the entire room. Doing that for her made me feel ten feet tall.
The soft padding of feet meets my ears as she descends the stairs. “Alejandro?”
“In the kitchen. Turn left and follow the corridor,” I call back, grabbing a cutting board and knife to begin prep. Sol finds me quickly, coming to a stop beside me as I dice the tomato first. My face turns toward hers and I bend over a bit, laying a kiss on her cheek. “Morning, Preciosa.”
“Buenos Dias.”
19
I’M STANDING BENEATH the waterfall shower head in his bathroom, eyes closed and fighting to get my breathing under control after he left. I’m alone with my thoughts now, missing his touch while accepting how weak I am when it comes to Alejandro Lucas.
His scent is addictive.
His touch is a soul-destroying catastrophe.
He owns me, and the truth is I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
“I’m screwed.” It’s my reality and fear. Our relationship—this crazy affair—is forbidden and while I see no happy ending in sight, I don’t care.
My family won’t approve. I’ve been promised to another—an obnoxious jerk—without my permission, and all I want is to choose him.
Alejandro is who I want. I deserve to be happy.
And wearing him between my thighs does that. Feeling his lips on mine while my hips cradle his, gives me the sense of home and comfort I’ve been missing.
I cried out for more.
I never want to leave.
For once, I’m doing what my heart tells me and not following an order and I’ve never felt freer. Unbidden. Calm.
“Why him?” I ask myself, even though I know the answer. It’s been there all these years as I followed him through the media’s eyes. Through my father’s hatred. There’s always been something that draws me in and holds me captive.
That keeps me coming back.
I’m a stalker.
I’m weak.
I’m his.
My eyes close as the sight of him above me replays through my mind. How his lip curled and grip tightened. The way his cognac eyes never left mine as he marked my skin with his release and then kissed my lips.
Lost in my desire, my right hand travels down my stomach and lower, not stopping until the proof of his lust covers my fingertips. It’s a heady feeling and I shiver, his release and mine coating my labia, and I’m tempted to slip my slick finger inside.
To coat my walls with his essence, but I don’t.
Not like this.
Instead, I focus on the memory I want to relive again. And again.
I’m sensitive to the touch, and my clit trembles beneath my soft touch. My thighs tremble and core clenches.
So close.
Just one more—
“No. Not without him,” I hiss out, pulling my hand from between my thigh and slapping the white marble tile inside his shower. I’m sensitive and turned on but don’t want to come without him.
I need him.
“Then go find him.”
My heart thumps harshly inside my chest the moment I step into his kitchen. It beats at a fast cadence while goose bumps rise across my flesh, and the sight before me makes me want to pat my own back.
I rushed through my shower. I almost ran down the stairs.
This is my reward.
There’s something so sexy about a man that can cook.
Maybe it’s the fact he can take care of himself. Maybe it’s the sight of his arms, the thick cords of muscles rippling as he wields a knife against the chopping block while preparing a meal. Or maybe it’s the heat in Alejandro’s eyes when he says good morning after kissing my cheek.
He’s trouble and fire, and I’ll proudly dance inside those flames for him.
“Buenos dias.” It leaves me on a breathless whisper and his lips quirk up. Alejandro doesn’t hide his smirk, nor is he apologetic in his perusal of my body. From head to toe, he takes in my lack of clothing choice with a spark of mischief in his eyes.
I’m wearing an old shirt I found in his dresser with nothing beneath; my dress would be uncomfortable, and my panties are drying in his bathroom after I hand-washed them. So with little choice in the matter, I opened his drawers