Chapter 16-Maya
I can’t believe this is happening.
Rico’s body is still heavy and warm on top of me, his heartbeat thundering against my chest, his breath hot against my skin. His arm is banded tight around my waist, like if he lets go for even a second, I’ll slip away again.
This? Us? The way he whispered together against my lips?
It’s everything I ever wanted.
But first, there’s work to do.
I smooth my hand through his damp hair, kissing his temple before whispering, “Get up.”
He stirs, mumbling against my skin. “What?”
“Come on,” I say, nudging him gently until he rolls to the side. “You’re going to show me what you’ve been writing, and I’m going to show you what I’ve been writing, and then we’re gonna see what we can do to get you that clout you need so you can tell Matheson to fuck off for good.”
His head jerks up, eyes wide, dark, shining.
“Yeah? You mean it, Mami?”
I grin, my heart thumping.
“Oh, I mean it. And by the way, I know you haven’t asked, but my real name is Gold. Maya Gold. And my father,” I pause, bracing for the hit. “My father owns and operates Gold Records.”
His eyes narrow, his jaw going hard. “Really? I met with him a few times.”
I grimace.
I can only imagine.
“That prick is really your dad?”
“He is,” I sigh. “And yes, he’s a prick. But my point is—I know this business. I would have understood what you were going through if you’d trusted me.” He looks like he’s going to say something, but I press my fingertips to his warm lips.
“It’s okay, I get it,” I tell him softly.
My chest feels heavy, but lighter too, now that the words are out.
“I know why you didn’t tell me. And maybe if I’d been honest about who I was from the beginning, then you would’ve felt comfortable enough to tell me about the problems you were facing with the label and your agent. ”
He shakes his head hard, eyes fierce, voice rough. “No, Maya. You did nothing wrong.”
I don’t let him look away. I reach for his face, cupping his firm jaw, forcing those stormy black eyes to meet mine.
“No, Rico. We did. By not trusting us. So, from now on? No more secrets. No more lies. Upfront honesty. Okay? If we’re going to try—for our sake, and his.”
I press his hand to my belly, and my throat tightens when his palm spreads across the gentle curve there, protective and reverent.
His face crumples, all the fire softening into something that nearly breaks me. His gaze burns, but this time with devotion instead of rage.
“I really don’t want to dwell on the secrets we both kept. Open book from now on, yeah? And yes, to all the rest of it. I want nothing more than to build this dream with you and our son, Songbird. I want you both so damn bad, Maya.”
A lump swells in my throat, my eyes stinging, but I smile anyway, brushing my lips over his.
“Good. Now let’s work.” I shove him lightly, playfully, trying to cut the intensity before I fall apart again. “And for God’s sake, put on some pants or we’ll never get anything done.”
He chuckles, low and wicked, leaning in so close his breath warms my lips. The sound curls deep in my belly, making me ache.
“We can always work later,” he whispers, suggestive as hell, and his big hands find my hips, dragging me flush against him.
And oh my God—he’s hard again.
My pussy clenches, slick and eager, answering before my brain can even catch up.
“You’re insatiable,” I tease breathlessly, though my body is already betraying me, already begging for him.
His lips curve in that cocky, sinful grin that makes me melt.
“For you, my gorgeous-as-fuck wife? I’m fucking ravenous. But you want it too, don’t you, Songbird?”
Then his fingers slide between my folds, slick and shameless, and my gasp gives me away. He groans, eyes dark and triumphant.
“That’s my girl. So wet for me already. Now open those legs nice and wide and show me how much you love me.”
Heat floods me, lust and love tangled so tightly I can’t tell them apart. And God, he’s so hot. And he’s not wrong.
I do love him. I love him more than I can say, and my body proves it every time he touches me.
“Okay,” I pant, already undone by his teasing fingers. “Sex, nap, food. Then we work.”
His laugh is deep, dangerous, wrecking me even more.
“Deal. But it’s never just sex with you, Maya. I hope you know that. I love you. Tú eres mi corazón. ”
The way he flows seamlessly from Spanish to English undoes me every single time.
I can handle translations on paper. That’s my comfort zone— lyrics, words, phrases broken down and put back together.
But Rico? He doesn’t just speak Spanish.
He breathes it. He sings it. He makes it sound like sin and salvation rolled into one.
And oh my fuck —when he sings it? I’ve never heard anything hotter in my life.
It’s like his voice dips low in his chest and takes me with it, dragging me into a place where every sound is sex.
He wraps his mouth around the syllables like he’s making love to the language itself, and somehow, he makes each note, each lyric, buzz with emotion.
It’s not just music— it’s him.
His soul. His scars. His love.
And God help me, I fangirl like crazy every time he opens his mouth that way. I can’t help it.
He’s not just a man to me in those moments—he’s an artist.
A star. A force of nature. And he’s mine.
Rico is the only inspiration I need to put lyrics to the beautiful music he writes. It’s true, those are my words, but without him?
They wouldn’t exist.
I don’t know how or why or what I did to deserve him, but I know that together we create songs that people seem to like. Songs that make my heart squeeze every time I hear them.
“What are you thinking about, Wife?” Rico asks, and I love the way he sounds sated and hungry at the same time.
For me. All for me.
“I’m thinking I’m crazy about you. And I want you. Now,” I whimper.
Then he kisses me. It’s deep, soul-stealing , and so full of need and devotion it makes me swoon.
God, I love this man.
“I need you too,” he growls.
“I know,” I whisper against his lips, my chest bursting with truth.
“I love you, Songbird.”
And just like that, I believe him.