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He nods and takes his leave, and I trudge up to the second floor, heading for Natalia’s door. I haven’t had a chance to speak with her since Manuel returned her home this evening. After I picked up Nino from school, I was busy taking him to his regular activities, and then I handed him over to Manuel so I could do some work. I’ll need to hire another guard for Natalia, but it will take time and caution to vet them. For now, we will have to juggle Nino’s care and Manuel’s time between the two of them.
I hesitate outside her door, trying to determine the standard I want to set from here on out. I’ve been maintaining my distance, though she never leaves my mind. If we are to survive this life together, I need to set aside any conflicting feelings.
My hand settles on the knob, and then I take it back, opting to knock instead. There’s a long moment of nothingness before Natalia opens the door, and I’m shocked into silence.
Her skirt suit is gone, and in its place is a simple black dress that displays the soft swells of her breasts and the curve of her hips much more than I’d care for. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it, but the discomfort in my cock is growing by the second, and I’m having difficulty looking away. The situation doesn’t improve as my eyes roam over her face. She’s wearing some sort of makeup that seems to intensify the color of her eyes and red lipstick that draws me in like a goddamned magnet.
I don’t even realize I’m taking a step closer until my chest brushes against hers. She has to strain her neck to look up at me, and when she does, I notice the simple lace choker around her neck.
“I like this,” I murmur, my fingers moving to touch it against my will.
She offers me a nervous smile and then gestures into her room, silently asking me if I want to come in.
“I can’t,” I reply gruffly. I don’t tell her it’s because I know if I step inside, I won’t have the self-control I need to resist touching her. “I just came to see if you were ready for tomorrow morning.”
She nods, giving me her assurances. Then it gets awkward again, because I’m standing so close to her, and now I’ve stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep control of them.
“We’ll leave at ten.”
She doesn’t say anything because she can’t without her phone or a great deal of pain from using her own voice. For a moment, I consider how ridiculous it is that I haven’t even attempted to learn the basics of how to communicate with her in the language she can use.
I linger for far too long trying to think of something else to say, but I have nothing really. I just don’t want to leave. Instead, I pull my hand from my pocket and do the one fucking thing I shouldn’t.
“It’s going to be okay.” I reach out and allow my fingers to stroke her cheek.
She shivers beneath my touch, and I’m not sure who moves first, but inevitably the gap narrows until our lips are a breath away. This time it’s undeniable that I’m the instigator as my lips brush against hers. I lose all my senses, grabbing her by the waist and pinning her against the door frame as I smear her lipstick with the intensity of my kiss. She melts against me, body soft and pliable against mine. I inhale her, I grope her, and I’m not proud of the fact that I’m practically dry fucking her in the hall. This is what she does to me, and I can’t stand it.
I yank away from her, breathless. She’s gone from elegant and beautiful to looking thoroughly fucked in a matter of seconds, and I didn’t even manage to get my dick inside of her. I want to. I really fucking want to, but I can’t. I keep telling myself I can’t, because it’s a recipe for disaster.
“Alright.” I drag my fingers through my hair, returning some of the strands that fell loose. “Well, goodnight then.”
I leave her standing there, wide-eyed and confused as I stalk down the hall and up the stairs. It looks like I’ll be spending my night in the shower with my worthless fucking palm.
I throw open the door to my bedroom, already unbuttoning my shirt with a determination to get to the bathroom as quickly as I can, but as soon as I lift my gaze, I freeze at the sight of Angelina.
“What are you doing?”
She’s sitting in the chair next to my bed, obviously waiting for me. Immediately, her eyes drift to my tented trousers, where my goddamned erection is throbbing so painfully, I couldn’t hide it if I wanted to. Fucking Christ.
