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She giggles at the way my heavy accent breaks the word down.
“Mo-te-cycle,” she mimics, making me toss a piece of chopped potato at her.
“Sorry, that was just too cute. If it’s easier, you can speak to me in Spanish.Puedo hablar en los dos idiomas.”
Her perfect Spanish sounds like music to my ears, her raspy voice making the pitch smoothe and breathtaking. I internally shake my head at those thoughts. Having her here is for my vendetta, not for that kind of sappy shit.
“I like your American accent, so I’d rather hear you speak in it.” I tell the lie easily because I’d rather not let this she-devil cast the same curse on me that she put on Alvaro, and if I have to listen to her speak my language…fuck me, I’ll be a damn goner.
A smile pulls up the corners of her lips. “Yeah, he approves. He’s my best friend in a home where our father dictates what we do. My brother was forced to be in math leagues and shit like that, while I was forced to join the diving team.”
She rolls her eyes and leans on the island top. “We were good at them but we absolutely hated it. We both have the adrenaline gene, so while he helped me set-up illegal street races for cash, I helped him train for his underground fighting. Again, we’re both good at what we put our minds to.”
My brows hit my hairline, fake surprise coloring my features. “Did he teach you to ride as well?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m the one who taught him. I learned through trial and error. I fell a lot, but I started out on a bmx bike when I was younger, so it wasn’t too bad. My brother did buy me my first bike, though.” She sighs and looks away, her eyes squeezing shut as though she’s trying to get rid of a bad thought.
“Hey,” I tell her, reaching for her chin and pulling her face back to mine, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She shakes her head, moving away from my touch and something like rejection crashes in my chest until she grabs my hand, flipping it over as she runs her fingers across the tattoos on my knuckles while she speaks.
“He wrecked the night I was kidnapped. I was forced to leave him behind and the way he yelled my name haunts me.” Her voice cracks, “I’ve only spoken to him once since then. I just miss him a lot.”
She sighs and looks away, letting my hand go. I move back to the stove as I listen to her.
“Since then, it seems like I’ve made mistake after mistake. I was naive but I got myself out of Banderas' hands and that’s how I ended up at the beach yesterday. It was lucky that we ran into each other.”
Not luck, Diabla. It was by the design of your lover’s enemy.
With the eggs mixed in with the vegetables and the heat on low, I walk around the island. Stopping beside her, I push her hair over her shoulder and spin the seat she’s in, before spreading her thighs and stepping between them.
“I’ve learned that some of the worst mistakes lead to best outcomes. I made a choice just like yours once, but when it was over and my heart was laid bare for the world to step on, I made a vow to never fall again.”
I tip her chin back, her hands coming to rest on the low ride waistband of my sweats.
“But I think that mistake has led me here,” I slide my hands up her legs, loving how her skin breaks out in goosebumps, “between these thighs where I’m happy to be.”
I lean down, pressing my lips to her eager mouth while lifting her into my arms. I walk her to the bedroom, making sure the windows are open and have the perfect view to Alvaro’s penthouse across the border.
With one arm holding her ass, I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head, running my hands across her heated skin. Alvaro’s text comes back to me. He said he was her first. Did he mean love or fuck? Why do either of those bother me? Vicenta is just my tool to tear his gutless empire down, not to keep like a cartel wife.
I place her on the bed, her feet flat on the floor. She looks up at me through her lashes as her breasts rise and fall in shuddering breaths.
Gathering up her hair in one hand, fisting it behind her head, I smirk at her. “Have you ever sucked a cock before,Diabla?”
Her cheeks flame in embarrassment, “No, Mero—”
I groan when she says my name, along with the gift of being the first in her mouth.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
I pull my sweats down enough to free myself, watching her as stares my cock, her lashes fluttering before looking back up. Fucking beautiful.
“Open your mouth and flatten your tongue.” I have a very difficult time not ramming myself down her throat when she does what I command without hesitating as though she wants to please me.
Fucked. That’s what I am. Completely and utterly fucked.
With my breath held and my cock weeping, I slide myself into her mouth, groaning at the feel of her wet tongue folding around me.
