Chapter 8
CALLUM
Miénteme - TINI, Maria Becerra
“Look at that smug face,” Asma grinned as she headed toward him, already dressed for the wedding ceremony.
“What?” he asked, trying to keep a neutral expression, as he had tried all morning.
Asma had kept bugging him about what had gone down between him and Alejandra the night before—since, according to her, he had come back smiling widely and bright—but he had deflected.
He had told her Alejandra had just wished him goodnight with a kiss on the cheek.
But the reality was that what had gone down was his hand between those strong, powerful legs.
Touching her, hearing her moans, hearing her beg him—for a moment he had thought it had been a dream.
But he could still smell her flowery perfume on him the following morning, faint but persistent, clinging to his skin.
It had been real, and he didn’t truly know what had gotten into him.
She had kissed him, that was for sure. But then, kissing her had been such a pleasant experience that he had felt the need to give something back.
And Alejandra clearly wanted him, so why not give her something to remember him until they had more time that same night?
Callum planned to bring Alejandra to his room—or to go to hers, he didn’t care—and bury his face, then his cock, between her thighs.
“Don’t what me,” Asma swatted his bicep. Then, looking at Leif, she added, “Did he tell you he kissed Alejandra?”
“Nope. He keeps saying just a peck on the cheek,” Leif admitted, shrugging.
Asma clicked her tongue, but Callum pushed them all out of the patio and toward the beach where the ceremony was going to be held.
It was simple: no chairs, just an arch, some flowers, and nothing more.
It could look plain to many, but Callum had eavesdropped on Sofia explaining to other friends why they had chosen that simplicity.
Two reasons: the environment—to avoid trash on the beach once they left—and practicality.
With the wind in Tarifa, it was impossible to have too many things around.
But they wanted the ocean in front of them, to witness their love.
Callum thought it was quite romantic. Way more thought than whatever Vanessa had planned during their brief engagement, before they realized they weren’t meant for each other anymore, that they had grown apart and turned into strangers.
He truly hoped that someday, he would find someone like Sofia was for Ilias, and vice versa.
Of the three of them, he had been the closest to a wedding, and this was one of the first ones they celebrated together. Asma’s love life was a disaster, that he always thought could be fixed if she just accepted that Leif liked her a lot. And Leif, well…he was the king of pining for Asma.
As they took their places next to Carlos—Alejandra’s brother, because Asma hadn’t stopped flirting with him since they met—Callum looked around for Alejandra.
Being the maid of honor, she was going to enter right before the bride, and he couldn’t wait to admire her.
When the music started with a weird instrument he didn’t recognize—a long-necked, pear-shaped string instrument, halfway between a guitar and a mandolin—everybody turned their heads toward the middle of the aisle, where a path had been carefully delimited on the sand.
Ilias was waiting under the arch, dressed in a tuxedo, beaming at everyone as he always did. Callum followed his gaze toward the back, and his breath caught.
Behind Sofia’s twin nieces, Alejandra was waiting to start walking.
Clad in an emerald silk dress, the fabric clinging and flowing at the same time, her long black hair falling in soft waves down her back, her gorgeous green eyes matching the dress, she walked barefoot on the sand. She was a divinity. A goddess. The most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.
And he couldn’t believe she had allowed him to touch her just hours before.
Her gaze briefly met his, and her smirk widened. He was used to shy women, to hesitation. Alejandra was not that. She was pure fire, confident and unapologetic, and he wanted—desperately—to be burned by her.
He knew he should consider the bride the most gorgeous woman at the wedding—which Sofia was, radiant as she walked down the aisle wrapped in white—but Callum couldn’t stop looking at Alejandra.
Throughout the entire ceremony, they shared glances, smirks, looks.
He had to think of very horrible things to avoid a boner in the middle of a wedding.
All because he had—somehow—caught the attention of his celebrity crush.
He didn’t even know how that had happened, but it had, and he wasn’t about to complain.
During the vows, Sofia made even Ilias cry. Alejandra kept smiling, but her eyes were humid, and he could see it even from that distance.
She was cute. Sweet. Fire and water, two elements in one.
And Callum couldn’t wait to get to know her a bit more. Even if it ended up being just a sexual one-night stand, he would take it, if it meant being part of Alejandra López Romero’s life, even for just a day.