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Licking his torso.
Biting his neck.
Nipping his ear—
Fuck! What the fuck, stupid brain? Throw me into the fires of Hell, why don’t you?
I shut my eyes before I stifled a groan, chanting and praying for those damn images to die out like pouring gallons of water over an open fire.
It wasn’t like I wasn’t already fighting this sexual tension between us. Fanning the flames would ensure my already tattered resistance failed. And I couldn’t have that. Not tonight. Not ever.
Again, I chose to ignore the shenanigan. What else could I do? Addressing it would be suicide. So here I was, faking a yawn as I took a few steps away from him. I’d have gone farther, too, but I’d already hit the mirrored paneled wall, leaving me no space to maneuver.
“Why do you do that?”
He sure as hell slow this one…
I blinked a few times, feigning innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
He raised his brow, scrutinizing. “You’re avoiding me.”
“I’m right here; how am I avoiding you, genius?”
“You always move away. Every. Single. Time.Para qué?”
Ugh. WTF.
“I have a phobia with enclosed spaces or when someone gets too closed to me. Claustrophobia; have you heard of it?”
God, Cara. You suck at lying.Phobia.Really?Wasn’t it hours ago when you were sucking lips with him?
We didn’t have the opportunity to continue discussing my new disability because we had arrived at the top floor. The doors opened to a brightly lit hallway, and we strode towards the south wing. Upon reaching the massive oak doors, Juan unlocked it and pushed it open. We were greeted with complete darkness upon entering the foyer.
“Un segundo, cariña.”
The penthouse suite was just as I imagined, the kitchen and living room overlooked the glittering Mediterranean. Baroque meets modern chic.
The entire apartment had white marbled flooring, floor to ceiling walls everywhere. One could already envision how bright and sunny it’d be in the morning. The apartment was meticulously clean. The surfaces gleamed of germ-free environment. A polar opposite of mine. Obviously, my apartment wasn’t a pigsty, but there were days that I’d slack on thorough cleaning, like any normal person without an OCD would.
I caught myself in the middle of the living room, quietly observing the people below. At this hour, it was full of groups of friends and lovers strolling about the pathway close to the shore.
“My sister Juana comes around here often ’cause her boyfriend’s from here,” Juan calmly informed me.
Just then, there was a loud knock, indicating Pablito’s arrival.
So there was Juan and Juana. How cute. I wondered what his sister was like while I faintly listened to Juan thanking Pablito.
The loud thud of the door being shut closed made me look up, and I saw Juan passing through the hallway, announcing he was depositing my measly carry-on luggage into my designated bedroom.
Curious, I strode away from the living room and followed, leading me to a room located on the left. He quickly pointed out that he would take the one of the right. The room wasn’t massive, but large enough to accommodate a queen-sized bed, a baroque chaise lounge, and a vanity. It didn’t take a wild guess that this room was probably his sister’s.
Juan laid my luggage flatly on the chaise’s velvety cushion then spun around to face me, arms loosely planted on both side of his hips with an expectant look on him.
Before that calm exterior turned into something sensual, I best break the silence while I had the chance.
Appearing interested in what the bathroom looked like, I took a quick peek before asking as I flipped the light switch, “What time are we going out to eat?” I needed a good hot shower.
The bathroom had everything I needed. Most especially a separate bathtub large enough to fit two people. Not that I intended to use it with anyone. Ew.
