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There were girls before me. I knew he was occasionally hooking up with them, and I hated every single one of them for having something I couldn’t have, for having a part of him that didn’t belong to me.
Until it finally did.
Then, I never asked. There was no sense in torturing myself with the thoughts of Miguel with another girl. He was mine, and that was the only thing that mattered.
Until he wasn’t.
Anger flashes in his eyes, and for the first time in my life, I’m scared of him. In all the years we were together, all the fights we had, I was never afraid of Miguel until this very moment.
“I’m not lying,” he whispers each word slowly, making sure there is no misunderstanding. “Were there a few girls before you? Yes, but they were just random hookups that didn’t mean shit. That’s all they were; hookups. You were my first.”
I sink my teeth into my lower lip. I want to look away from the intensity in his eyes, but there is nowhere to look but at him. And I don’t know what to say, what to think about this whole situation.
What was the truth, and what was the lie? Did it even matter at this point?
Miguel’s gaze falls down, zeroing in on my mouth, and hisvoice turns husky. His fingers slide to my chin, his gaze holding me hostage.
“Since the day we got together, you’ve been the only woman I’ve touched.” His grip on me tightens. “The only woman I’ve loved.” He lifts his gaze to meet mine. “The. Only. One.”
Before I can say anything, he leans down, and his mouth captures mine.
I suck in a breath in surprise, my body going completely still.
Miguel is kissing me.
Again.
A shudder goes through my body as that talented mouth slides over mine.
There is nothing gentle about the way Miguel kisses me. His grip on me is strong, the hard press of his mouth over mine relentless. He tilts my head to the side, nibbling at my lower lip and demanding entrance.
My lips part, his tongue sliding into my mouth and twining with mine, taking my breath and any rational thought away.
Miguel is kissing me.
I sway a little on my feet. My fingers grab onto his shirt to steady myself, but the only thing it does is bring us closer.
And it’s like my body comes alive at his nearness, at his touch.
Every nerve ending in my body is sizzling to life as I return his kiss.
And holy shit, there was nothing that could ever compare to kissing Miguel Fernandez. Those long fingers cradling my face. The determination in every swipe of his tongue. The gentle nibble at my lower lip that always had me melting in his arms.
One of his hands slides down my side, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulls me closer. My chest brushesagainst his, my nipples turning into hard pebbles that press against the material of my shirt.
I tilt my head to the side, my tongue meeting his swipe for swipe.
His palm slides lower, fingers dipping under the hem of my shirt and making goosebumps rise on my skin at the touch. His fingers sprawl over my lower back as he brings me closer, and I can feel his hard length pressing against my soft belly.
“Fuck, Red,” he rasps against my mouth, breaking the kiss. “You still taste the same.”
I can barely catch my breath before he kisses me again, and I get lost in everything that is Miguel Fernandez.
My hand slides up his chest and around his neck. I push him back, and he doesn’t try to protest. In the distance, I can hear the sound of the car door opening, and then he sits down, pulling me into his lap.
I let out a shaky breath as my palms brace against his pecs. I can feel the strong muscles of his shoulders flex under my touch. My fingers sink into his wild curls, and I tug at his strands, bringing him closer to me and deepening the kiss as my hips roll against his hard cock.
The motion is instinctual, each slow movement making my core clench with need.
