Chapter 41
ALEX
“Ahh yesss… so good.”
Ribbons of steam traverse through my lungs as I step into the hot tub and submerge myself underneath the water. Holding my breath for a few seconds, I finally exhale, releasing all of my built-up tension.
After speaking to Elijah, I feel like we’re in a much better place.
Just seeing the relief on his face spoke volumes.
I’ll never understand Meera’s thought process.
Nor do I want to anymore. And I’m okay with that.
She had her reasons, I guess. I just wish I could erase these tattoos from my skin so I wouldn’t have to see them anymore.
In the beginning, I didn’t mind having the tattoos.
In a way, they were cool. Plus, the puzzle pieces are what first grabbed the attention of the modeling scouts; so, in that way, I’m grateful for her artistic mind.
I’d been a walking showcase, brazenly displaying her art on my skin.
But never would I have guessed that she had a motive behind it. And a sick one at that.
“About these shorts…” Elijah teases, dragging me in closer and skimming those thick fingers across the waistline of my swim trunks. He pulls lightly on the strings.
“These shorts happen to be your idea,” I remind him, lifting my hips enough for him to slide them over my thighs and down to my ankles. I kick them aside, watching them rise to the surface and bob between bubbles. The rippling water feels amazing on my balls.
“And this”—Elijah eases me up from my seat, and I float over to his lap, spreading my legs and wrapping them around his waist—“is also my idea,” he proudly declares, shoving his cock into my groin.
“Mmmyessss,” I moan, feeling his fingers slide down my crease and press against my hole. He slips the tip of a finger in, and I toss my head back in pure ecstasy.
“Gentlemen!”
I snap my head up at the sound of Gabriel’s voice.
“I thought I might find you out here.” He grins, striding across the balcony, balancing a tray of fruity drinks.
Complete with umbrellas.
Elijah casually palms my butt cheeks, and I shift uncomfortably in his lap.
“I thought we’d enjoy some margaritas.”
He can’t be fucking serious.
Placing the tray off to the side, he hands us a frothy red cocktail, like a goddamn professional waiter.
Furious, I begin climbing off Elijah’s lap, only to be held back, and I cringe when I notice my swim trunks taking a leisurely lap around the hot tub.
Damn it to hell.
“Thank you. But that wasn’t necessary, Gabriel.” Elijah speaks with a straw between his lips. He slurps and then holds his drink out to the side.
I skip the straw altogether and toss mine back, nearly poking myself in the eye with the umbrella.
Mmm, strawberry.
“Ah, so you like the flavor, sí?” Gabriel grins, watching me go completely still. There’s a sly undertone to his otherwise smooth Spanish accent, and now I’m sweating on top of the sweat that’s already beading across my overheated skin.
Elijah’s hands surf across my waist, over my hips, and down my ass, pulling me against his raging erection. It sits heavily between us, thick with arousal, and in front of Gabriel, no less. I’m so fucking pissed, and my dick wants no part of this cocktail hour.
I reach for my shorts at the same time Gabriel decides to step out of his and—
Holy hell!
A skimpy red Speedo swimsuit hugs his incredibly toned body, leaving nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing, to the imagination.
He’s definitely packing, and I can’t peel my eyes away from that package.
Good fucking grief. It’s impossible not to stare.
His darker complexion is glorious against the deep-red color of the swimsuit.
Sleek, well-toned muscles are on full display, along with what looks to be a very thick dick. What is with these Spanish men?
“Are you joining us?” Elijah asks, oblivious to my mental hiccup. “I was hoping for some time alone with Alex.”
Gabriel dips a toe in the water, testing its temperature. And just like that, it gets even hotter.
“I wasn’t planning on staying long.” He sighs, accent seeming much thicker with the heat.
Even his sigh is accented.
I grit my teeth as I watch his fingers run through those luscious locks of hair. And as if he wasn’t wet enough already, he’s just become wetter.
And for Christ’s sake… so have I.
I run the back of my wrist across my lips, watching him slide into a seat directly across from Elijah. I wipe the sweat from my forehead. A wet Gabriel is…
Where the fuck is my bathing suit?
Attempting to look unfazed, I float sideways in Elijah’s lap, skimming the water for my shorts. No way in hell am I going to sit naked in this tub with him. Of course, when I spot them, they’re floating right across Gabriel’s lap.
“Could you please hand me my shorts?” I ask, clenching my teeth.
“Mmm… these?” he taunts, scooping them up by the waistband and dangling them from his index finger.
Blushing, I reach out, but he snaps them back with that signature wise-ass smirk. Those playful eyes slide over to Elijah, who’s casually leaning back, sipping his cocktail like he’s on a family fucking vacation at an island resort.
I’ve had enough!
Abruptly, I stand in all of my naked glory. I don’t even bother grabbing my shorts because that would entail moving closer to Gabriel, and at the moment, I seem to be having a goddamn problem communicating with my dick.
“Alex, baby. Where are you going?” Elijah removes the straw from his lips before hoisting himself out of the tub, splashing a ton of water over the sides. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I scowl.
“Ask him to leave, Elijah.”
“I thought we were all okay?”
“Ask. Him. To. Leave,” I hiss, and thankfully, he does as I ask.
Spanish jargon rips from his mouth, causing Gabriel to immediately lose his smirk. He barks back at equally rapid speed, popping out of the hot tub, forgoing his shorts, and stomping back out through the bedroom wearing only his eye-catching red swimsuit.
I wipe the extra layer of sweat from my face.
“I’m terribly sorry, baby. He has no filter for that playful mouth of his. I should have asked him to leave sooner.”
“You’re missing the point, Elijah. He shouldn’t have joined us in the hot tub to begin with. I don’t enjoy taking a bath with your husband.”
“Ex-husband,” he corrects, reaching for his fucking margarita.
I ignore him.
GAbrIEL
“Damn media!”
Startled, I trip over the throw rug upon hearing Alex’s voice. From the sound of it, he just saw the article from Boxed Out.
I pick up my pace, shuffling through the bedroom and back out onto the balcony to retrieve my shorts.
“Can’t stay out of my goddamn business!”
Oh boy.
The bathroom door flies open, and he emerges, half naked, distressed jeans hanging loosely from his hips. Angrily, he stomps over to the bed and flings his cell onto the mattress. It bounces onto a pillow.
My eyes land on his tattoos as he runs his hands over his head. They stand out like 3D images against his lightly tanned skin. And fuck. I’ve never wanted to play with a puzzle as much as I do right now.
I swipe up my shorts and watch from the other side of the glass partition as he flings himself across the mattress.
As if those tattoos weren’t sexy enough, his perfectly plump ass is fucking mouthwatering.
I literally have to hold my breath to keep from letting out a groan.
Elijah would chew my head off if he knew I was looking at him in this way.
With guilty steps, I slip back into the bedroom and observe what should otherwise be a private moment. This is where I would fail miserably in a relationship. Elijah has always been the caregiver in our marriage. He’s more adept at handling the tough stuff. Thicker skin, I guess.
I push my hand through my hair. “Alex?” I nervously whisper while moving through the room. He lifts his head, lending an ear to the silence.
So I try again, with a little more umph in my voice. “Alex…”
His body spirals in the air like a ninja before landing perfectly on his backside. It’s such a flawless maneuver; I find myself wondering if he really is an actual ninja.
“Jesus! What the fuck are you doing in here?”
“Retrieving my shorts,” I explain, leaning a hip on the corner of the bed, making sure to leave enough distance between us. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Tears glaze over his beautiful hazel eyes. They sparkle, like the sun shining through church windows. Just hands-down breathtaking.
“It’s fine,” he softly speaks.
“I saw the article. It wasn’t fair of them to intrude on your private moment with Elijah.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he quips.
Can’t say I blame him. We haven’t been the best of friends.
“Alex, listen.” I blow out a breath. “I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot.” His pecs bounce as he repositions himself on the bed and leans back on his elbows, eagle-winged tattoo stretching out across his chest. I pull my eyes away.
Suddenly, I feel naked.
And confused.
Naked and fucking confused.
When the hell has nakedness ever bothered me?
Never.
And that’s why I’m confused!
Ughhhh!
I pinch the bridge of my nose, wishing I’d thrown on a shirt. At least there would only be one of us sitting here bare chested. But two partially naked guys? Yeah, definitely finding it hard… to think!
Goddamn it!
I look back at the eagle tattoo. It’s quite stunning—all that detail going into the feathers alone is magnificent.
I wonder if Meera designed it? I’d know if I could get a closer look; there’s always a telltale sign to her artwork.
Like I tried explaining to Alex earlier, two images coexisting within one picture—a hidden picture within a picture, if you will.
It’s what made her sketches so unique. A mindfuck.
Speaking of mindfuck…
My eyes drop to the puzzle piece on his wrist. I really need to study that piece. It’s too simple. And Meera’s artwork is never simple.
I sweep my hair out of my face and twist it up in a knot. I begin checking off what I already know—the shading is different. While the other pieces on his back are all solid, this one is filled in with rain…or tears. Knowing Meera, it could be both.
Like I said—mindfuck.
And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something missing. Like it’s unfucked… and Meera would never leave her artwork unfucked.
Speaking of unfucked… I need to get laid.
Alex’s shirt catches my eye, draped over the back of a chair across the room.
I spring to my feet and scoop it up. “Mind putting this on?” I toss it to him with a flirtatious smirk.
A joke hovers on the tip of my tongue—he can tell too, watching me with that expectant look—but for the first time ever, I actually keep my mouth shut.
He catches the shirt midair and pulls it over his head. Drool practically pools at the corner of my lips as the thin fabric stretches over that oh-so-sexy eagle tattoo.
I’ve always wanted a tattoo—maybe a butterfly, one wing the flag of Spain, the other Puerto Rico. It would be so pretty.
Oh, who am I kidding? Needles terrify me. I’d cry throughout the whole process. Probably pass out too.
“You were saying?” Alex speaks, snapping me out of my head.
Christ. Was I saying something?
“Um…”
What the hell was I saying? I remember thinking I need to get laid, that’s for damn sure. Oh god, I didn’t tell him that, did I? Not that I give a fuck, but…
Alex snorts. “No worries. Let’s just start over, okay? I’d like to be friends,” he says, his voice warm enough to melt me on the spot.
“And… would you like benefits with this friendship?” I venture, a little too boldly.
Silence.
Way to go, Gabriel.