Corrupt - Elena M. Reyes Page 0,61
my attention down to her as she takes in my experimentation crops. She’s facing me now and her arms come around my neck, fingertips playing with the hair at the nape. My little flower is completely unaware of my final surprise just a few feet from us. “I appreciate your honesty and willingness to not play a fictitious role.”
“I’m not hiding who I am from you, Preciosa. Everything they say about me is true.” Lowering my face to hers, I run my nose down her cheek and pause at the corner of her mouth. “I’m a killer. A criminal.”
“You’re so much more than that.” The late afternoon sky is beginning to give way into the evening, and it’s a little cooler now. The blue over the horizon is a bit more pronounced and the wind around us is picking up, dancing over every leaf and flower, and yet, nothing stands out more than the beautiful grey of her eyes. They shine with emotion and lust; two gems beckoning me closer. “I see you, Mr. Lucas. All of you.”
“I’m not a good man, Solimar.” Gripping her hips, I walk us back a few steps. Right to the edge of each plantation where my two worlds—family and business—come within a few feet of each other. The good and bad. The illicit and legal.
On one side is my mother’s fruit trees and on the other drugs, and yet, the middle is neutral. It’s where I plan to make her mine.
Out in the open. Where I’m at home.
Because I’m a man of the land and have always been.
“Nobody is perfect.”
“No. Nobody is,” I agree and bring both hands up to cup her cheeks. So soft and warm. So mine. “But this life isn’t for everyone, Sol.”
Her brows furrow and lips purse. “Are you trying to dissuade me from wanting you?”
“I’m not letting you go.”
“I’d never give you a chance to—” I don’t let her finish. My lips cover hers and I taste her desire for me, revel in the way she moans into my mouth and the goose bumps that rise across her flesh. There’s no hesitation or asking questions as I walk us toward a large tree that shades the earth between the two pastures.
On one side is a symbol of my family, and on the other the kingpin she craves.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I groan, taking her bottom lip between my teeth and pressing down. She hisses but doesn’t complain, the fire in her eyes a challenge for more.
Another detail I never got the chance to show her, but I remedy it now as I stop us just as her foot meets the soft blanket on the ground. Then I’m placing soft pecks down to her chin before turning her around. There’s a soft gasp that escapes at the sight laid before her; a picnic for us and our names carved into the wooden trunk of the large oak where the basket with our snack and a few pillows sit against it.
“This is beautiful.”
“Nothing is enough for you…” skimming my hands down her arms, I entwine my fingers with hers while my lips hover at her temple “…but I’m going to spend the rest of my life laying the world at your feet.”
“Alejandro, I—”
“Turn around, Preciosa.” Sol does as I ask, only letting go of my hands long enough to face me. Grey orbs meet mine and in them, there’s anxiousness and desire—hunger. There’s also need and an emotion that both grips my heart in a painful squeeze and causes a shiver to rush down my spine. I untwine our fingers and cup her face with both hands, tilting her face up to mine. A little closer. Lips brushing. “I love you, Miss Quintero. I’m owned by you.”
It’s my truth. She’s come into my life and rocked the very throne I sit upon. This between us is fast and all-consuming, but also comes with a set of complications we can’t ignore.
I will kill her father, and she will wear my ring.
Solimar’s knees weaken and tears gather at the corner of her eyes. “I love you too, Mr. Lucas. Since before I ever had the right to.”
“At the club.”
She shakes her head, a delicate blush spreading across her cheeks. “Since the day I stumbled upon a picture of you in a bathtub and watched the adjoining interview. You stole my heart with that first cocky smirk.”
Christ.
That was...
“You naughty little thing.” That interview in question was a little after I took over Don Andres’s business