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“I’m sorry.”
“You are getting off easy, Cortez. Now, thank me for my leniency.”
“Gracias…fuck!”
I embed the blade fully to the handle, right between two ribs, and leave it there. “You’re welcome.” Looking over at Geronimo, I nod toward the back exit where the stairs are. “Get him checked and comfortable. He’ll be leaving the premises Monday morning and we don’t want him to be in pain during the ride.”
“As you wish, Patron.”
“Hagale.” There’s a small sink near the electronic lift to change the oil of my cars and I walk over without sparing the bleeding man another look. There’s blood on my hands that needs to disappear and a beautiful girl I plan to worship after turning my monitoring system off.
I miss my beautiful little flower.
21
I LOVE HIM.
I love him.
I love him.
I’m screwed.
Those words continued to run through my mind as we ate the breakfast he prepared and then when I went upstairs to change and encountered another surprise: a closet stocked with everything I’d need and a few things that make me blush.
“What did you do?” I ask, mouth gaping like a fish as I take in everything this crazy, gorgeous man bought for me. There’s so many pieces of silk, lace, and delicate fabrics; Alejandro chose well and plenty with me in mind. My sizes are right and the fabric soft; I would’ve chosen these items for myself.
There’s activewear, loungewear, and a few dresses for various occasions. Jeans and simple tops and more shoes than I’ve ever owned in my life. There are also a few things that I’ve been tempted to try on in the past and didn’t have the courage to. I had no one to wear them for.
Risqué and indecent, the lace bodysuit with cutouts in private places is beautiful. But more than that, I want to wear it for Alejandro and have him rip the delicate fabric with his teeth.
“With me, you’ll never want for anything. I’ll always take care of you.”
“Always?”
“In this life and every single one that follows, I own you and you me.”
I shiver at those words—the declaration behind his possessiveness—and he kisses the area just below my ear. “You cold?”
“No,” I say and try to focus on the here and now as I’m given a private tour of his home. He was gone a while this morning, taking care of something I never cared to ask about while I relaxed on his couch. Could I have snooped? Yes. No doubt. However, I don’t want to learn a single private anecdote or personality trait from his belongings.
I want him to tell me every last secret.
I want him to show me what makes him happy.
“You sure?” The landscape in front of me is beautiful—every inch of his land is, and more so when I take it in with his rich timbre whispering in my ear. He’s explained every little thing I’ve seen, his chest vibrating against my back with each word.
“I am.” My nipples are hard, and I try to contain the whimper fighting to break free. Moreover, a part of me is sad we’re dressed in T-shirts and jeans because I want to feel his skin on mine. Bask in his warmth.
“Hmm?” It’s a low hum in the back of his throat, and the sound is dangerous. Sexy. “We can always head back and pick up a light jacket.”
“I’m okay.” More than, but I don’t voice how much his thoughtfulness means to me. The man continues to surprise me at every turn, and I find myself loving every layer I uncover.
The sweet. The devious. The danger.
I love him.
I should be scared and surprised and begging him to take me back home, but I don’t. My attraction to him isn’t new; I’ve hidden this from everyone, buried my desires for so long, but the more time we spend together…
