Jaime slammed Alma against the wall, pressing his hard cock to her stomach.
His mouth took hers and she welcomed it.
This wasn’t their first kiss. Far from it. Maybe it was their thousandth.
But Jaime had never kissed her like this.
Every day that they had been apart made Alma kiss him harder and deeper.
She never wanted this kiss to end.
From tasting tequila to tasting Jaime, their night and their relationship had evolved into something that was as rich and complex as the finestañejo.
Chapter Fifteen
Alma forced herself to pull away from him, but she didn’t want to.
She wanted to lean in for more. More kissing. All the kissing. Jaime’s tongue in her mouth, licking her body, tasting her—
Jaime’s eyes were wide. Hopeful.
“Alma, I, we—”
This is what she had wanted all night. To be with him, to sleep with him, to reunite and experience the passion they shared.
But now that it was right in front of her face, she couldn’t do it.
She wanted to so, so badly, but she couldn’t give in when she was still so hurt.
“Jaime. I think you should go. Now, please.”
He nodded. “Can I at least walk you home? It’s late.”
“It’s safe here, Jaime. I don’t need you to walk me a block. I do get myself home every night after work perfectly fine.”
Jaime shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” He walked toward the door. Alma hated to see him leave but knew it was the right choice.
He turned back toward her. “Are we still on for brunch on Sunday?”
Alma should’ve said no. This, whatever this was, had gone on long enough. She should limit their interaction to the festival. He could honor his commitment to help her with her socials, but he didn’t need to be around her for that. And he could easily arrange to get that critic to come without getting her involved. She had already taught him a bit about tequila tonight; a simple Spanish lesson for when he promoted her bar should be sufficient, right?
There was no need to go to brunch on Sunday.
But she wanted to.
“Yes. You can pick me and Tequila up here at ten.”
“Did you make reservations?”
Dammit. She had totally spaced. “No. But I can now.”
He squeezed her hand. “Let me take care of it.”
She exhaled. “Okay. That’s fine. Good night, Jaime.”
He exhaled. “Great. Good night, Alma.”
He left the bar, and she locked the door behind him. She quickly cleaned up the tequila tasting, wiped the countertops. She rubbed her eyes. It had been a long night. She locked up the bar and walked the quick distance to her home.
