Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
E
Landing in Cuba goes smoothly, and customs doesn’t take too long. It’s almost midnight when we get to the hotel Mac booked, but there’s a line at reception, so we have to wait a minute. Looking at him in profile, I see the ticking of his strong jaw.
Mac has facial hair that frames his mouth, but his sharp cheeks are bare, and I have the urge to kiss him there. He acts like nothing gets to him, but I can see the tension he’s carrying while Di’s location is unknown.
The hotel is one I know my dad has done business at, with colorful marble on most surfaces. It’s as fancy as anything you find in the US, but with added humidity and Rumba music. At reception, we’re greeted in Spanish and accented English by a handsome man in a black suit.
“?Bienvenido! Buenas noches, good evening. Check-in?”
After my nap on the first leg of our trip, I’m wired. Plus, my body is on Pacific Time, not Cuban. So I have plenty of awareness when the receptionist checks Mac out.
Mac doesn’t notice, or gives no indication he’s reciprocating the blatant ogling. “Yes. Under MacIntyre.”
My gaze goes to him, but I don’t say anything. Traveling under a pseudonym makes sense considering what we’re doing, and his choice has me wondering if he picked this one so ‘Mac’ still works.
“Very good, Sir,” the receptionist, whose nametag reads Cesar, replies in English, and I’m annoyed I don’t get to translate.
I don’t actually know if Mac understands Spanish, but I want to be able to help.
“You booked a suite, I see. Did you want to upgrade to one with a larger bedroom and kitchenette, or do you want to keep the two-room suite?”
“Solo una cama,” I start, but Mac puts a hand on the back of my neck. He tugs on the metal collar just enough to remind me who is in charge and I close my mouth.
“Two is fine. My assistant might get some sleep if we have time,” Mac adds, emphasizing my fake role. “I want to see the Castillo de San Severino tonight. Is there a car service you recommend?”
Considering his correcting me on the room choice I think Mac understands Spanish just fine, though his accent isn’t great. I take note not to try and say things in Spanish as a way to hide what I’m saying.
Cesar types on his screen and arranges a car for one hour from now. “Is there anything else I can get you, Sir?”
His deference to Mac and use of Sir annoys me. I know it’s irrational, but that’s my word for him. Mac reaches out to take the room card and I don’t bother asking for one. He’s not letting me out of his sight in a strange environment.
“No, thank you,” Mac answers politely, but he’s already turning to the bell hop who has our single bag from the car on a rolling cart. Take that brush off, Cesar. Until Mac stops and turns back, “Oh, did my order arrive?”
“Yes, Sir,” Cesar smiles and nods. “We’ll send it up right away.”
Mac doesn’t reply, leading the way to the elevator like he’s been here before. From our conversation on the plane, he’s only been to Havana, and that was once after travel opened on his first hunt for Di. It’s his natural confidence that makes him seem to own every room he walks into.
We’re quiet on the elevator with the employee, who takes us to the top floor. He walks us to the end of the hall, and I note that the rooms are far apart, so likely all suits.
“Thank you,” Mac pays him a tip as the door closes, leaving us alone in a plush living room with a couch, two chairs, and a small balcony overlooking a courtyard.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, since he wouldn’t tell me on the plane with the flight attendant so close. Even though he confirmed she signed an NDA. “We’re not actually visiting the Castillo, right? It’s not far from my Dad’s, though.”
“Part one, tell the driver we want to walk the neighborhood, try to get in and see if your father is there.”
“Is there a part two, or a plan B?”
“He sees me with you on security cameras and you’re bait.”
“And if he comes looking for me?” I say, stepping closer but not touching him. “You’re not afraid of me telling him who you are and how you kidnapped me?”
Mac reaches out and tugs me forward by my collar, dark gray eyes boring into me like he can read my thoughts.
“No, because you know I won’t hesitate to find you and kill you.”
A shiver runs through me at his words, and I think back to what he said on the plane. In the moment, I found his words about not leaving him unless I’m dead a little romantic. Now I see he meant them literally.
Yet…I don’t think it’s true anymore. I hope it’s not true.
A knock at the door interrupts Mac’s intense stare and my internal thoughts. He lets me go to check who it is, returning with a large bag from a men’s clothing store I recognize.
“What’s that for?”
“It’s clothes.”
“Yes, I know.” I resist rolling my eyes. “But why? Didn’t I pack you enough?”
“You did. This is for you.”
“Oh.” Blinking at him, I take the bag. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Of course. White pants are a bit conspicuous. I think I got your sizes correct.”
“Right,” I nod, turning to change in one of the two bedrooms.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Gesturing to the room opposite, the one the bellhop didn’t leave Mac’s bag in, I frown. “To get dressed.”
“The second room is only for appearances.” Mac crosses his arms. “You will change in front of me. Don’t get shy on me now.”
Only hesitating a couple seconds, I move to follow his instructions. Dropping my bottoms to the floor, I kick them aside. There are briefs, as well, so I lose mine, which have gone sweaty from walking around the airport and still have some of my cum on them from the plane.
My shirt is next, and it joins the growing pile on the floor. Mac’s face doesn't change expression at my nudity, but he does rake his eyes over my body. If I thought he’d be into fooling around, I might give myself a stroke, but I know he wants to get a move on.
The clothes from the bag are designer briefs, with dark, linen trousers.
The black shirt is short-sleeved and more breathable than the one I arrived in.
He thought about my comfort as well as my visibility.
There’s also a light jacket, though I don’t need it yet.
I slip on the clean socks as well before my shoes go back on and I’m done, waiting for his approval.
“Good. Now, fold your clothes and bring them here,” Mac throws over his shoulder as he turns away, walking into the bedroom to rifle through his bag.
After gathering my things, I follow him and fold them on the bed as Mac strips without pausing to let me look my fill of his sexy body. He changes into a similar outfit to mine, though with long sleeves. It was humid but comfortable out when we arrived, though we might need a jacket later.
Mac straightens and grabs my small pile, stuffing it into his bag. “Are you hungry? Need to use the bathroom”
“Uh, no,” I shake my head. I went before we got off the plane, and we ate a snack on the second leg of our trip.
“Alright. Grab a water bottle from the mini-bar,” he instructs, leaving me alone again to follow him.
This is a Mac I haven’t seen since the night we met. He’s focused, goal oriented and straightforward. I don’t dislike this side of him, but I have to adjust my behavior to match. Still, he asked about what I needed.
My Mac, the one who calls me pet and takes care of me every need is still there. I don’t know if I’ll survive this phase of my life, but I hope I do. I want to see what he does next.