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“Penthouse.” At my response, he presses the needed button using a pen and leans back, adjusting the two boxes in his left hand. And so do I, pulling my phone out and bringing up Mariah’s number.
There’s been a subtle change in her over the last few days. She’s been a tiny bit softer toward me, and I love it—revel in the rosy tint that sweeps across her cheeks when I bring my daily offering of chocolate or coffee.
A bribe? Maybe.
But there’s something so delicious about those innocent reactions.
So unlike her normal demeanor, and yet, Mariah is letting me in. Little by little. One interaction at a time.
Whatcha doing, Muñeca? ~Javier
Immediately three dots appear.
Thinking. My mind keeps going around in a circle. ~Muñeca
About? ~Javier
For a second or two no sign of her typing, but then her next words fuck with my head. My dick.
Here I am, all alone inside of this large bath with bubbles and a glass of wine thinking about you. About the one kiss you stole and how much I liked the way you taste. ~Mariah
Fucking tease. Motherfucking destroyer of my will.
A low hiss escapes, my cock swelling at the mere thought. She’s going to pay for this.
That little demon knows what she’s doing. This game of hot and cold—taunt and chase that she both loathes and yearns for.
With one hand she pushes me away, and on her next breath, pulls me closer.
Close enough to touch but not bend over.
I could be back home in thirty and at her door in five more.
A throat clears, and I look over at Carmelo. “I’m a little hungry.”
“We can stop after.” My response is a little strained, my thoughts jumping between my needs and responsibility. “Anything in mind?”
This mindless conversation is needed, and I focus on him and not the throbbing of my length, the pulse in my veins that’s thankfully hidden behind my suit jacket.
“Dominican if you’re down?” My response is a nod, and he smiles. The guy’s young and ambitious, but smart and hard-working—reminds me a little of the men in my family. It’s also why I’ve taken him under my wing; he could go places in a business like this if he remains loyal. “I hope the crying doesn’t last long. This woman is too extra for me.”
“Agreed,” I say, nodding absentmindedly while staring at my phone’s screen. Mariah sent me a picture while he interrupted me, and I wish I hadn’t clicked on it. Not now, when I can’t rush back and punish my Muñeca for this infraction.
The pic is of her in a large free standing tub with bubbles covering her body and just enough of her breasts, that the two tips aren’t visible. How did she manage to get such a perfect shot? I see them, though. Can make out their dusty rose color and their slight pebbling. The way her skin has broken out in goose bumps and the smirk on her lips just below the edge of the picture where she cut the image off.
Tonight she’s going to see what I’m like when pushed too far.
I’ll be picturing you just like this tonight when I come with your name on my lips. ~Javier
Pocketing my phone, I close my eyes for a second. Breathe in and out through my nose—focus on why I’m here and not where I want to be.
With her.
Between her thighs.
Tasting her every moan.
My phone pings twice, but I don’t look. Instead, I wait for the door to open and exit with Carmelo two steps behind while thinking of everything I find unattractive.
