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She threw her hands wide. “I don’t know. I thought maybe we’d speak, maybe we could go for an early breakfast somewhere. You also had a dangerous air about you, and I liked that until you got out that rifle. I thought I could slip away while you smoked but then you shot that man, killed him.”
Go out for breakfast? That wasn’t part of his world. What the fuck had she been thinking?
If she hadn’t whimpered, he would never have known she was present. Damn, but he must be slipping. He couldn’t afford mistakes like that. “Motherfucking hell,” he breathed. “What a total shit show. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a stupid bitch?”
Cecily had stood with arms folded as she finished her story. Her gaze focused on him but when he spoke, her face crumpled like a discarded cigarette package. “Often,” she whispered in a voice as shattered as broken glass. “All my life. You hate me too, don’t you?
He should have but he didn’t. “Cecily, Bomboncita, no.”
What he had said, though, had hurt her, deep and hard. She stared at him then spewed out more of her backstory.
“I’m not sure my parents liked me. I was, as they say, an accident. Ruined my mother’s shot at modeling or acting. Put a responsibility on my father’s back he resented until the day he died. Pierre wanted me for a trophy wife, nothing more. If he didn’t hate me when he married me, I’m sure he did after. He envied my youth, disliked my sarcasm, and begrudged the reality I would outlive him. His children hated me from day one. I know I’m stupid. I always have been.”
He wasn’t a priest but apparently she’d decided it was confession time. Javier listened. Maybe he owed her that, at least. It might help him to understand her better. He already had a soft spot for the bitch, one he didn’t want to have.
Cecily turned away from him and darted into the kitchen. Javier followed, his emotions in a boiling stew, and found her leaning against the counter, sobbing. Her cries cut into him and slashed his heart with pain. Such a lovely creature shouldn’t experience such despair.
“Cecily, I don’t hate you. I like you. You’re beautiful with a tough spirit and a sassy mouth. Maybe we shouldn’t have met, I don’t know. We wouldn’t have, under normal circumstances, but I’m not sorry you were on the rooftop. I’m glad.”
As he spoke, he put his hand on her back, a gesture intended to comfort.
She stilled at his touch. “Are you?”
Javier was, although he didn’t want to admit it. He’d rather this woman didn’t have a hold on his heart or his emotions. He didn’t care about anything but family and he kept them distant for their safety. “Yes,” he said. “Tell me about your family. Why would you even think they hated you?”
Cecily faced him, heaved a sigh. “If I’m gonna tell you, I need a drink. Do you have any more wine?”
Javier poured two glasses of the sangria he’d served with dinner and handed her one.
“I don’t think they hated me, I know it,” Cecily said, then gulped half the glass of wine. “As long as I can remember, my father called me ‘Daddy’s big mistake.’ He didn’t want to have a kid or a wife. The only reason he married my mom was because his agent thought it would look bad if he didn’t. Can’t have your Broadway lead doing a fuckin’ stupid thing, like knock up some model like a horny teenager. I know Daddies are supposed to buy you ice cream cones or take you to the zoo. Mine never left the house with me. I wasn’t allowed to watch his plays or sit on his lap.”
Javier compared it to his childhood. Yeah, they’d been poor, and his papa died early, but he’d never doubted he was loved. Maybe his folks didn’t take him to the zoo either, but they went to Coney Island once a summer if not more. Papi bought him Nathan’s hot dogs when he could. Mami brought home the chicken that didn’t sell every night when she worked at a restaurant. Occasionally, part of a cake or something.
“I’m sorry,” he said and meant it. Sex with Cecily had proven to be amazing, off the charts, but it was fast becoming more than physical. He’d developed some feelings for her although he tried to squelch them. “What about your mama? Didn’t she care?”
Cecily laughed, a bitter sound that made Javier shiver the same way nails running down a chalkboard did. “My nanny raised me. I hardly ever saw my mother. According to her, I ruined her modeling career and any chance at acting. My dad said she was a shitty, no-talent actress and not even a good piece of ass. In case you’re wondering, she didn’t brush my hair or let me play dress-up with her clothing or take me to a salon. She didn’t even shop for my clothes or take me to school. The nanny did. As soon as I was old enough, they shipped me off to boarding school. I hated it there.”
Then, like an afterthought, she said. “Do you actually like me?”
“Si, mi Tesoro. You complicate my life, but you give me something I’d almost forgotten. You make me feel things I never do. You make me crazy.”
Cecily turned around and faced him, tear tracks marring her face, but she wore a smile.
“Livin’ da vida loco,” she whispered. “Let’s get wild.”
He needed no invitation, not when she threw herself into his arms, hotter than a flame, wilder than a lioness in the wild, sweeter than cake or candy. Javier grasped her tight and lowered his mouth to hers. He took but she gave, their lips molded together as her fire ignited his passion. He had to have her, fast, furious, and with a ferocity he’d never known.
Javier pressed her against the cabinet, fumbled down the zipper of her jeans, and worked them out of the way. Her panties followed as he shucked out of his shorts then he nailed her. Javier lifted her up against the countertop and took her. His hard cock slammed into her box like a New York Yankee hitting a home run. He hammered her with his dick, not so far gone he didn’t feel it when she squeezed her cunt around him. Sensations of pleasure rushed through him, his mouth fused to hers while his dick remained deep in her pussy. They came in a savage rush of sensual delight that brought them both to their knees.
Collapsed on the floor, entangled in their half-removed clothing, sweating and messy with cum, they laughed. Javier found a joy in their lovemaking that he’d never experienced and realized it wasn’t just sex, not now, not with Cecily. He lacked the words to express that, however, and so, when he could, he helped her up.
“Go get a shower, then pack.”
His command lacked tenderness, but she smiled at him anyway. “I’ll indulge in a long bath. I want to use those bath salts you had delivered. I’ll see you afterward.”
Cecily kissed two of her fingers, then placed them on his lips.
He stood and stared, then laughed as he straightened his clothing, pulled up his shorts.
