Chapter 9
Mia
Idon’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed. And here I thought being thrown into the pool was bad. This trip just keeps on giving—and not in the carefree, sunshine-and-cocktails way I imagined.
“Hey,” Diego calls gently.
“Hmm,” I murmur absentmindedly.
“I know it’s not my fault, but I wanted to apologize for the way my niece treated you. I wish I could say she was raised better, but the truth is, she’s always been a spoiled rich kid.”
I chuckle at his sincerity. “You’re right—it’s not on you to apologize.”
As we walk, I admire the string lights wrapped around the palm trees. They must’ve been here the whole time, but somehow, I’ve only just seen them. Maybe because every time Diego’s near, the rest of the world fades out.
He stops, turns, takes both my hands, gently swaying them between us.
“I know, I know.” He releases a long breath. “Still, I don’t want you to think you don’t belong.”
My brows pinch together.
“Mia.” He says my name in that deep, velvety voice that makes me melt. Whatever embarrassment I felt a couple of minutes ago has vanished.
“You belong with me,” he murmurs. “Anywhere I am, that’s where you belong.”
My breath catches, but I don’t have time to react—his lips crash into mine. A moan escapes as he pulls me close, his hands at the back of my neck, his body pressed hard against mine.
The way this man makes me feel is something I’ve never experienced before. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once—because when this magical Christmas fling is over, I don't know how I’ll be able to feel this much again.
“Bonita,” he whispers against my lips, his voice thick. “I want more.”
His hips press forward, and I gasp.
“I want more too, but we can’t go to my bungalow.”
Carly would never let me hear the end of it if I showed up with him. Reason number 869,372 why I need my own space.
“I know a place,” Diego says, a spark lighting his eyes.
He takes my hand, and we hurry toward the resort’s main building. He nods at the manager as we pass reception, then slips out a key card and hits the penthouse button on the elevator.
“That’s where you’re staying?” I ask, nerves and hesitation bubbling up inside me. Is this where he brings all his lovers? I’m not naive enough to think I’m the only one who’s ever gotten the Diego Grosso VIP treatment.
“What?” he asks, dragging a hand through his hair, the lust fading from his deep blues. “Actually, this was supposed to be your and Carly’s room, but after the incident we gave you the bungalow I usually stay in.”
My eyes widen in surprise. Why would he do that?
“Don’t look so shocked,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I felt like shit after what happened and wanted you to have the best experience possible. The hotel’s fully booked, so I thought giving up my place was the right thing to do.”
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in. How is he so dang thoughtful? Not falling for him gets harder with every single thing I learn.
“Mia, open your eyes,” he commands, his thumb grazing my lower lip.
My eyes flutter open, and his smile takes my breath away.
“You’re pretty amazing. You know that, right?” I say, letting the words hang between us. He smiles, a soft curve that makes my pulse trip. “You’re the amazing one here, but that’s a topic for another day.”
The elevator doors slide open, and we walk out, still hand in hand. The hallway is quiet, our footsteps echoing in sync. When we reach his door, Diego glances at me, key poised in hand.
I nod, but he doesn’t move.
“I need words, bonita. I want to hear you want me as much as I want you.”
“Yes, Diego, I want you too.”
He pecks my lips as he pushes the door open.
The room is dark, though the curtains are open. The moon hides behind the clouds, casting a faint silvery glow through the glass. Before he can reach for the switch, I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
He smiles as he leans in for a kiss. His hands slide to my waist, lifting me easily. My legs wrap around him, and he groans into my mouth.
“You’re perfect, Mia. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs, squeezing my ass.
My hips buckle, and a shiver rushes through me at the feel of his erection pressing against my core.
“You have too many clothes on,” I say, kissing down his neck.
Diego chuckles but keeps moving, carrying me toward the couch. He sets me down gently, then kneels in front of me. His hands trace slow paths from my thighs to my ankles—up and down, up and down—gaze never leaving mine.
He pulls off his sweater, tossing it aside. His gold chain catches the light now that the moon has broken free from the clouds. I drag my nails across his chest, and he hisses, biting his bottom lip.
“You drive me wild—feral almost.”
I lean down, letting my cleavage show a little more, emboldened by his words. “What are you going to do about it?” I tease.
I can see the moment he makes up his mind—his gaze darkens—and then he surprises me, lowering his head toward my chest instead of my lips.
I giggle as my back hits the couch, Diego following.
“Are you sure about not falling?” he asks, his eyes frantically searching mine like he’s trying to find the answer he wants. But what is that answer?
I want to scream no. Hell no. I’m done with that stupid rule. But that’s what we agreed on, and I’m too afraid to speak my truth and end up hurt. So instead, I whisper, “Yes. I’m sure.”
Diego moves so fast I can’t read his expression before I feel his tongue tracing from my collarbone to my neck. My legs part instinctively, and he chuckles against my skin.
“Don’t laugh. This is all your fault,” I say.
He leans back, curiosity evident in his eyes.
I roll mine, but the playful smirk stays on my lips. “You know you’re hot, Mr. Grosso. I’m so ready for you.”
“May I see?” Diego asks, his hand sliding beneath my dress. My head falls back as his fingers press against my inner thighs, his thumb playing with my clit through the thin fabric of my panties.
“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked.”
I feel Diego’s nose against my core, and I lift my head immediately.
He inhales deeply, and the sound alone makes me shiver.
“Just as I suspected—a sweet cunt.”
He makes quick work of bunching up my dress to my waist, licking his lips as he stares at my satin-covered pussy. His hungry gaze elicits another shot of arousal to ruined panties.
Normally, I’d feel self-conscious under that kind of stare, but the way Diego looks at me—like I’m his last meal—makes me feel like a treasured queen.
He presses his mouth against my wet spot and sucks my arousal through the fabric.
“Fuck, I knew it,” he says, pulling off my underwear and tossing them aside.
Spreading my lips with his thumbs, he laps at me from my entrance to my clit. I buckle at the contact.
“Easy, bonita. We haven’t even started yet,” he says with a smirk.
I slide my fingers through his hair, needing to touch him, to anchor myself.
Every flick of his tongue against my pussy pulls another sound from me, each one louder than the last.
“Oh, Diego. Fuck,” I gasp, overwhelmed.
He looks up, eyes dark and knowing. “What baby? Do you like that?”
He sucks harder, and I buck again, unable to control myself. “Yes, papi. You make me feel so good.”
“Damn, baby. Did you just call me papi?” he says before straightening and teasing my entrance with one finger. “That’s the hottest shit I’ve ever heard. Say it again.”
“I want you to finger fuck me, papi,” I say, practically moaning.
Without warning, Diego pushes one in, then massages my clit with his thumb.
“More, papi. More.”
My legs spread wider, and Diego picks up speed, adding another finger, stretching me so good I can already feel my orgasm building.
“You look beautiful when you’re about to come on my fingers. I wonder how gorgeous you’ll look coming on my cock.”
His words send me over the cliff, a wave of pleasure traveling through my body.
“That was…” I exhale, still catching my breath. I’m relaxed—happy even—after what I just did with Diego. But I want more. I want to make him feel just as good.
He sits beside me, and I move toward him like a moth to a flame. The pull he has over me is so strong, and even though I know I should guard myself, I don’t want to.
Leaning back on the couch, he pulls me down with him until I’m stretched out on top of him, his erection pressed against my belly.
“We need to take care of you next,” I murmur, finding his lips again.
My hands glide from his shoulders to his ribs, following the trail of hair covering his abdomen. His body is an uncharted map I want to trace and memorize by heart.
I work my way down his chest, flicking my tongue over his nipples. Diego hisses but doesn’t stop me.
“Mia,” he says my name like a prayer.
I hold his gaze. “I want to taste you.”
My phone starts ringing somewhere in the room. I close my eyes, trying to hide my disappointment. There’s only one person who’d be calling me.
“I need to get it—it’s Carly,” I tell him as I stand, trying not to maul him in the process. I pick up my destroyed panties before looking for my phone. Pressing it against my ear, I say, “Hey.”
“Hey, you. Is everything okay?” Carly asks, a hint of worry in her voice.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” I reply, my voice still breathy.
“Ohmygod. Please don’t tell me I interrupted you with Fall Guy.” Carly sounds apologetic—but damn, she knew I was seeing him tonight.
“Yup,” I pop the P for emphasis.
I glance at Diego. He’s standing with one knee propped on the couch, a lopsided smile curving his lips.
“Oh no. Why did you answer? I’m hanging up,” Carly says quickly, but the moment’s already gone.
Guilt floods me—guilt for wanting space from her, shame of still being under my sister’s watch even though I’m twenty-five.
“It’s alright. I was heading out anyway.” The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them.
Diego raises his eyebrows, surprised. Holy hell. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to see me again after this. I wouldn’t want to see me either.
I hang up after assuring Carly I was leaving.
“Diego,” I start, but I have no idea what to say that won’t make me sound like a loser.
“It’s alright,” he says, walking toward me. “You mentioned earlier you were here to spend time with your sister, and we practically spent the whole day together.”
I search his eyes, looking for disappointment—or maybe regret. I’m not sure.
“Hey, it’s okay. I promise,” he says, running his hands over my shoulders. “We still have one more date tomorrow. Remember?”
I blink. “What other date?” The lust fog in my brain refuses to clear. I swear this man produces more pheromones than any man alive. My attraction to him is ridiculous.
“We’re going to my niece’s wedding tomorrow.”
The news lands like a bucket of cold water over my head. “I thought that after tonight I wasn’t supposed to attend,” I say quietly, lowering my gaze. I hate that a stranger’s comment has this kind of power over me.
“I’m sure Armando put her in place after we left. It wouldn’t surprise me if she reaches out tomorrow to apologize.”
I raise my brows.
“Yeah, either way she’ll apologize,” he says gives, pecking my lips.
It’s not lost on me how certain he sounds. I wouldn’t put it past him to make sure of it.
I shake my head, a small smile spreading across my lips.
“Let me put a shirt on, and I’ll walk you to your bungalow,” he says, heading toward the bedroom.
“Oh, there’s no need. I’d actually like to walk alone.”
Diego stops and turns around. “Are you sure? Are you okay?”
I nod quickly. “Yes, of course. I just want to walk by myself.”
He doesn’t push. Instead, he walks me to the door. And although that’s exactly what I asked for, I’m screaming inside: Ask me to stay. I don’t want to leave you.
With a small wave, I head toward the elevator. The doors close, and I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm the wild mix of nerves and want swirling through me.
I tell myself it’s fine—that I’ll see him tomorrow. That this isn’t the end.
Still, as I step out into the quiet night, I can’t shake the feeling that something in his eyes shifted before I turned away—something protective and entirely for me.