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“Yup.” Keeping my eyes on his phone’s screen, I pull up the music app and type in the name of what I have in mind. It’s an old song that blew up and is popular amongst the wedding/any-kind-of-celebration crowd. The opening notes begin to play, and I bite back the giggle fighting to break free.
His shoulders bunch and head shakes. “No. Please don’t.”
“Why? It’s so catchy.” Jumping down from the counter, I begin to shake my hips as the male singers begin to clap. I ignore the cool air caressing the wetness between my thighs, focusing on his reaction and not how sexy the man looks standing a few feet from me and now running a hand through his thick, dark hair. The clapping coming through the speakers is fast-paced and I join in, moving just like the women do in the original video. Then, I’m humming, and he grimaces. I’m smiling so big, and he’s shuddering. “Want to join me?”
“No.”
“You said I could ask for anything and—”
“But this.” Cognac-colored eyes are begging me to not push. It’s hilarious to see this strong man try and back out from doing a simple dance. There has to be a story behind this reaction. “Ask me to do anything but the Macarena.”
“Why?”
“How about some of my specialty-blend coffee,” he offers instead, and it’s my turn to shake my head. “Una arepita with ham and cheese?” In response, I hold a hand out as the male singers belt out the first line. “Or we skip breakfast and I make you come on my tongue.”
At once my hands drop to my sides and lips part. “That’s not fair.”
“Bend over the counter and I’ll show you just how fair I can be.” Alejandro’s expression is smug. He knows I want him to touch me and decides to fight dirty. However, two can play at this game, and I take on a different approach.
Pursing my lips, I lower the volume and hop back onto the countertop while he watches me with an amused expression that is dripping with cockiness. Papi is about to learn a lesson. Once situated, I cross my legs and give him a sweet smile. “How much longer before breakfast is ready?”
“Run that by me again? I don’t think I heard you correctly.” If anything, his velvety tone deepens, and it’s smooth like whiskey. “Now you want to eat and deny me.”
“Pretty much.” I’m nodding, fighting back a laugh at his narrowed eyes and thinned lips. “You offered, and now I want it.”
“I also offered to make you come.”
“Something you could very well do in an hour.”
“You’re going to pay for teasing, Miss Quintero.” Once again invading my personal space, Alejandro takes my face in his hands and skims his lips across mine in a kiss that’s innocent yet decadent. That simple touch makes my heart thump harshly and a smile to curve against his mouth. “Now, behave while I cook and feed you.”
“Yes, Patron,” I breathe out, and he groans, giving me a final nibble before leaving me to continue his prepping.
In mere seconds we went from sexy to playful to back to scorching, and I like it. It also leaves me with two noticeable problems.
The first being my lack of worry for Signio and if he’s alive.
The second being how much I crave this kind of attention from Alejandro. It makes me needy and happy and I… I love him.
20
“MORNING, GENTLEMEN,” I say, stepping inside the garage-like structure behind my home while Solimar gets ready for our afternoon tour of my property. The building is past the pool house and the line of gardenias my groundskeeper planted last spring. It’s large enough to house five cars, three holding cells, and a fully functioning apartment on the second floor with the staircase at the rear of the building that my men use to crash for a few hours when needed.
Sweeping my eyes across the room, I notice the lack of vehicles and how all the lights are on. I take in the empty food plates and the few bottles of water atop a small table at the center. How the last cell on the left wall’s inhabitant is shrinking back from the metal doors, keeping him within, and all eyes are on me.
“Buenos dias, Patron,” three male voices reply in unison while my guest remains quiet, shivering, although he’s fully dressed and untouched. No facial bruising. No bloody limbs.
I nod at the men, yet my attention remains on my guest. Signio is avoiding my eyes, trying to stay within the shadows of his temporary room.
“Mr. Cortez, I suggest you put into practice all those years of expensive education and use your manners. When someone greets the room, you respond accordingly. Understood?” Still, I’m met with silence. Another culicagado brought up with money and has mierda social etiquette. “So be it.” Meeting the eyes of the guard to my right, I nod in the direction of Signio. “Bring him out.”
“Wait!” His face appears between two bars on the door, hands gripping the metal tightly. “Alejandro, there’s no need for this. I wasn’t going to hurt her or defy you.”
“So you do know how to speak?” My jaw ticks as I recount each little scar left behind by his nails digging into Solimar’s arm. How red and swollen the delicate flesh was. “You fucked up, kid. I warned you.”
“Let’s talk this out,” he says, eyes on the guard walking over with a key in hand. “I can help you.”
“Help me?” I ask as Geronimo steps inside with a burner phone in hand. “Explain yourself.”
