20. Ariella
Chapter 20
Ariella
Before I am forced to marry or die
(whichever comes first) bucket list. Revised.
Fill an entire class up.
Read a book.
Go to the fair and eat a funnel cake.
Go Skinny Dipping.
Kiss a stranger.
Meet Pedro Pascual.
Get over my fear of heights.
Figure out how to use that orange dildo.
Lose my virginity.
Fall in love.
I toss and turn in the midnight hours. Even Guapo becomes anxious with my restlessness and wines at the door. The neon lights from my alarm clock stare back at me. One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock.
My mind becomes this maze I can’t escape. Time ticks on as I relive every past, present, and future moment. What would my life be like with Preston Cuevas? What would he be like? I pull up my phone and type in his name, finally succumbing to the temptation to Google him.
To my surprise, Preston Cuevas is not the old creepy man I expected. He looks like a cover model—light brown eyes, brown hair that he keeps slicked back, olive skin, and a sharp jawline.
The first picture that comes up in the search is of him in a suit, sitting with his hands clasped in front of him. He’s in front of the Capital in Austin with a charming smile. I click the link, leading me to an interview in Houstonia , a local newspaper highlighting the surrounding area.
Houston’s Top 40 Under 40
Most Eligible Bachelors.
The article dated back two years ago and talks about Preston’s political profile, where he went to school, and his goals to make it to the United States Congress one day. When asked what he wants in a future partner, he says, “I need someone who can allow me the freedom to make Houston a better place. Someone willing to take second place to my love for the city without resentment. In return, I would give her everything her heart desires.”
Whatever my heart desires is sleeping down in the room across the hall.
I want to trust that Preston Cuevas will be a good husband. In my mind, I imagine him encouraging me to pursue my dreams, standing beside me when I open my first training studio. We’d have a family, and falling in love with him would be easy. I liked easy.
There was no confusion or mixed emotions when the intentions were set on the table. Preston Cuevas’s intentions are crystal clear- work first, then me. I could handle that.
By the time the clock changes to four, I’ve had enough of the mental torture. My bucket list remained untouched, so I decide right now is the perfect time to cross off one of my goals, skinny dipping.
Cooper says it’s only skinny dipping if it’s in a river or a lake you’re swimming butt naked in. But considering I was being followed constantly now by paparazzi and nosey YouTube gossip influencers. The next best option was the pool in the penthouse.
This penthouse was one of three on the 13th floor reserved for our family. Each was built for the three younger Consuelo siblings: my mother, Enrique, and Olivia. My grandfather wanted them to have a secure place to stay, but only Olivia ended up living here.
She and Thalia shared the largest penthouse on the east wing while I stayed in the west wing. The penthouse had two master bedrooms, each equipped with a full bathroom, a large living room, and a kitchen. My favorite part was the large pool outside.
I pull my hair into a high ponytail and strip off my pajamas. The reflection in the mirror stops me as I take in the fading marks running down the length of my body .
I can do bad things to you, and you’re still my good girl.
Why do those words make me feel so powerful? I run my hand over my neck and down to my breasts. What if sex didn’t feel the same with my future husband? What if the sex I had with Nero was a rarity, and now I would be settling for ordinary? Would my body resent me?
Grabbing a towel, I tiptoe through the hallway and to the patio. The sun isn’t up yet, but it’s already hot and humid. The cold, still water looks refreshing. I look around to ensure no one is watching. Nakedness was still an awkward thing for me.
My Tia Ponciana used to tell me to leave something to a man’s imagination. She would fuss about my overly revealing clothes and try to get into my father’s head. Usually, Axel would back her up, but my mom would come to my defense. She needed me to be the best-dressed at every party so that people would think I reflected her fading beauty.
Removing the towel, I slowly walk down the steps into the pool. My nipples harden at the changing temperature. Holding my breath, I close my eyes and fully submerge myself.
Swimming always made me feel alive like I was one with the element. I dive to the bottom, holding my breath as long as possible before resurfacing up to the top. Stress falls off my body with each dive. After a few laps, the fact I’m naked doesn’t even phase me- I actually feel more at peace with myself.
I float onto my back and stretch my arms out. The moon stares down at me, welcoming me into its presence. I sway my head back and forth, my hair slowly moving with the rhythm of the water. I take a few deep breaths, close my eyes, and lay there in complete and utter silence.
No thoughts to weigh me down and no reality to face. I am just here in this moment, loved and accepted by the water.
That inner calm is soon interrupted by the chaotic splashes around me. In one quick motion, I’m dragged to the pool steps.
“Ari, fuck, are you okay?” Nero says in a panic.
I splash around a few times before I remember I can stand. I wipe the water out of my eyes, cursing at the stinging from the chlorine.
“What the hell, Nero!”
“What the fuck are you doing?” His eyes look briefly at my naked body, then back to my face.
I spit out the remaining water before I clear my throat.
“I was meditating!”
He walks to the pool’s edge and lifts himself to sit on the edge.“You were fucking meditating?”
When he stands, I can see the way his damp boxers cling to his muscular thighs. He wipes his face with my towel, and I can’t help but watch the water dripping down his tan skin.
“You were fucking meditating? In a pool? Naked?” Nero says again.
“Can you just sit down for a second?” I say, resting my arms on the edge of the pool. I sigh when I see he’s not budging.
“I wasn’t trying to scare you Nero, this was just one of those things on my list. I couldn’t sleep, and I had a lot of anxiety, so I came out here.”
It was the truth, and I was always truthful with Nero. He walks to the edge by me and sits down. His body is still rigid even as he lowers his legs into the water.
“Don’t do that to me again,” he says, splashing me playfully.
“I won’t,” I promise and watch as his body relaxes.
“I hate water,” he whispers, looking away from me and watching the night sky.
I wait because I can feel it. Something caught there between us. Something he wants to free from his consciousness. When he looks back at me, his gaze traps me in his, but it’s the words he says that stab me in my soul.
“My mom used to hold me underwater as punishment.”
My chest tightens, and I push down the emotions rising in my throat. The thought of an innocent child- this man- as an innocent child, enduring that type of abuse. I look away, embarrassed. I’m so stupid for triggering these memories.
“I’m sorry.” I apologize, my voice cracking.
It’s the vaguest response I can offer without breaking down and sobbing. A tiny piece of information that he was willing to give me. Enough to know there was trauma at the surface of who he was.
“You don’t have to apologize. I just, I thought you were dead.” He says, pausing on the last word.
I pull myself out of the pool and sit in his lap. Wrapping my arms around him, I pull his bare chest into my naked body and hug him tightly.
His body stiffens before I feel his hands on my back. We stay there like that momentarily, our hearts aligned underneath the big Texas sky. There are no words I can say to make what happened to him disappear. I just want him to know I care.
That magnetic pull has our hands roaming each other’s bodies. I pull back slightly and run my hand over his beard. I hook his gold chain in my finger before I find the discolored scarring on his chest.
“Did she do this to you?” I ask.
I look up at him before I lean down and kiss the fading scars. The same way he had kissed my tears the night I gave him all of me. He looks at me dumbfoundedly, his eyes locked on mine.
“She did. She did a lot of things to me. Physically and mentally.” He cups my face and pulls me back into his chest. I rest my head there as his rough hands caress my back.
“The worst part was always the emotional abuse. I remember the day she did this to me. I was forced to lay there in the tub, my body trembling from the shock. She poured hot water from a kettle on me. It was fucked up. I didn’t understand why she hated me so much. Why she was laughing while I was crying.”
Anger lodges in the back of my throat as he continues telling me about his mother. I hug him tighter, my eyes press closed to ward off the emotions arising in me.
“I have never known love Ari. I can never give love because I have never known it. She’s dead, and I am still suffering from what she did to me.” His voice cracks, and I pull back to cup his face between my hands. Tears stream down my face, thinking about how that woman has broken the kindest of souls I have ever known.
“Don’t cry for me, Maniká,” Nero says, wiping away the moisture on my face.
“I can’t help it. I want to go back and hug that little boy and tell him everything’s going to be okay. I want to punch your mom in the face.” He lets out a small chuckle and kisses my cheek.
“She’s dead now. I’m not worried about her, and you don’t have to worry about me.” I pull what emotions I can back together.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I say, and he shakes his head.
His hand reaches out and palms my neck. His thumb trails over the fullness of my lips, causing heat to rise in my core. I close my eyes, but my mouth has its own plans.
“What do you need from me?” I whisper into his lips.
I open my eyes again and find his on mine. I lean in until our foreheads are touching, and my hand roams over his chest and abs. I run my fingers over the elastic of his briefs.
“Ari- “he hisses.
I let my hand slide down farther and grab his erection. Another growl escapes him.
“That’s what you do to me. Whenever I’m around you, I can’t think of anything but how much I want to be inside you.” He whispers into my ear.
I stroke my hand up his long length through the fabric of his briefs.
“I want to slide between these lips and paint these tits with my cum.” His thumb rubs over my bottom lip before his hand falls to my breasts.
He pinches my nipple, and I arch my back, squeezing his cock in my hand in response.
“What do you want, Princess?” Nero says, pinching my other nipple.
I’m unsure how to express the urges that consume me. Since the night he used the orange dildo on me, I have been eager to show him how quickly I learned. Desperate to earn his approval and hear the praises fall from his lips as, I gratified him with my mouth.
“Tell me.” He commands.
“I want to taste you.” The confession makes me feel like a whore, and for some reason, I wanted to be just that. His whore.