Julian
My head’s a mess. My body’s on fire, and it’s not because of the stupid cut that refuses to heal normally.
I trace a finger across my bottom lip, staring out the window of Isidoro’s jet as it flies over some mountains. We are on our way back to New York for the S&S meeting and I can’t fucking stop thinking about the kiss.
I shiver, my cock twitching. Fuck me. Why can’t I get it out of my head? I want to kiss him again. What do I do now?
Berating myself, I try to focus on more important things.
Like the creature. What the hell was that?
And what was it doing there? Why was a hideout under the well?
Isidoro’s team is already on it. They scoured the place too, collected the bones and blood from the table.
We should know who or what they belong to in a couple of days, what the creature really is, too.
I hold up the logo thing that I ripped off its jacket while fighting it on the ramp.
I can’t make out what it is exactly, but I’m sure that after staring at it for a while, I’ll crack it.
Isidoro suggested I give it over to the ‘experts’ but I gently reminded him that they got nowhere last time, so he let me be in charge of it.
After the S&S meeting, I plan to sit Ria down.
Maybe she has some idea what it means or has seen it somewhere.
About halfway through our flight, exhaustion and my wound catch up to me.
It’s never taken me this long to recover, which only confirms that something was very wrong with the creature.
I get comfy in my seat after a quick change of clothes and throw the hood of the sweatshirt I was given over my head, closing my eyes just for a moment.
Something soft drags up my cheek, sending little shivers across my entire body. I lean into it, chase after it, the sensation so pleasant I can’t help but seek it out.
“Julian.”
Ah, that voice. I know it. So smooth, so lilting, so fucking nerve-wracking and pleasant. My insides tangle into a fluttery mess as electricity buzzes across the tips of my fingers.
“Julian. Wake up. We’ve landed.”
I stir, slowly opening my eyes. Isidoro’s face takes shape before me, close and beautiful as the burgundy halo of his hair surrounds him. He’s watching me with those wine-red eyes of his, reflections dancing in them as a faint but genuine smile curves his pretty lips.
I fixate on them, a surge of heat spearing through me. They’re so close, within reach if I only push off the seat a little and dare to claim them. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t stop thinking about his taste, his hands, his eyes looking at me.
“The car’s waiting for us. Let’s go. We’re cutting it close.”
My hand lifts without input from my brain, cupping his cheek. “Why are you so pretty?”
His eyes widen in a semblance of momentary shock, then squint to half-mast as the smile shifts into something more impish. “I see you are still half-asleep. We are enemies who are simply working together, remember?”
We are, aren’t we? But since when do enemies kiss?
I shake that thought off. I might just be half-asleep, he’s right.
The grogginess makes my body feel extra heavy when he helps me up from the seat.
I stretch, accept a cup of coffee and dunk it in one go, the hot liquid chasing away some of the haze from my brain.
On the way through the terminal, I’m handed a new shirt to change into on the move, a jacket too.
I guess the pants I was given on the jet are good enough though.
Isidoro is wearing a pastel yellow suit that I’m convinced only he can pull off, topped with a black leather corset with lace that showcases his cinched waist.
When we get in the backseat of the car waiting for us, I’m finally functional enough to engage in a conversation. “We are enemies who are married and working together, excuse you. Also, you kissed me.”
He hums, gazing out the window as rain patters down, giving the night city around us a shiny glaze. “We were both injured and high on adrenaline.”
I huff. “Oh no, no. Don’t take me for a fool. It has nothing to do with that.” I jab a finger at the side of his arm, warmth clinging to my cheeks even though he’s not looking at me. “You’ve been wanting to kiss me since the wedding.”
He chuckles as he turns to me, mirth radiating from every pore of his skin.
“Are you sure it’s not the other way around, Julian?
” His eyes darken, drinking me in from head to toe with so much intensity, I feel a chill crawl down my spine as if I’m suddenly out in the snow, stark-naked.
“Why would I want to kiss someone like you?”
That gives me pause, because he’s right.
Why would he ever want to kiss me? Other than the fact that I’m perfect and beautiful, of course.
But it can’t be just that. It makes no sense.
We’re enemies and I tricked him. I lied, I played him and now he’s stuck with me.
Clearly, the only reason we are acting civil to each other is our mutual goal, because it’s no longer just about figuring out my father’s murder.
It’s bigger than that, and we must get to the bottom of it no matter the cost.
Right. So what’s happening here? Could it really have been just adrenaline?
But what about the ceremony? How do you explain that?
I peek at him, averting my eyes immediately from the severity of his imploring gaze.
Fuck, why can’t I stop thinking about the kisses?
Why do I want to do it again? There’s got to be something wrong with me, right?
“Hmm, it seems my question might have overloaded your brain,” Isidoro says, a note of amusement accompanying his teasing words.
This motherfucker! Did he just imply I’m an idiot?
I glare at him and open my mouth to tell him to shove it up his ass, but I don’t get to say anything.
I’m instantly captivated by those dark eyes looking at me as if I’m the most irresistible temptation in the entire world.
Oh my god. I must be imagining this. Isidoro Altamirano does not look at me this way. He’s playing with me, right?
Stunned, I can only blink slowly as I try to reconcile with reality and chase away this hallucination I must be experiencing. Isidoro’s fingers grip my chin and tilt it slightly as he leans in, his mouth blowing hot air against mine. I squeeze my eyes, my entire body stiffening in anticipation.
Please kiss me, please kiss me, please kiss me or I’m going to die.
I hear a fond huff of laughter, and then I feel the pressure of his lips as they touch mine. It feels so fucking good. Shit, he really went for it.
I moan, my whole body vibrating, demanding more as a hint of Isidoro’s taste slides down my throat. His tongue pushes inside my mouth, dominant and aggressive, and I’m left with no choice but to yield and let him do as he pleases.
More. I can’t think. Need overtakes me, desire so deep I can’t keep it under control.
I… Fuck, I think I want him. I shouldn’t, but I do.
It’s messed up, I know, and I still haven’t forgiven him for exiling me in Mexico, but holy shit, is this what this is?
Do I really want Isidoro? Not just in title, or because my survival depends on it.
What the hell am I supposed to do with something so fucked up?
The quarry is at fault! Why did I have to nearly die again and why did he save me and then kiss me?
Panic settles in my chest, clasping my hammering heart tight. My fingers find Isidoro’s shoulders and dig into them. He moans, his hand sliding from my chin to my neck and clenching it possessively. My eyes roll back, my cock jerking in need. Yes, no, fuck.
As if he can sense my distress, Isidoro pulls away, licking his lips. His eyes glow a breathtaking red, the rim so thin around his black pupils, I wouldn’t notice it had it been his usual wine color.
“Wha—Why?” I cover my mouth with my hand, panting as my heart tries to settle down from the liftoff it experienced.
He smiles as he retreats to his seat and trains his gaze forward. “You have no clue, do you?” He inhales with his entire body and adjusts himself, not bothering to hide it. “How you look at me.”
I blink at him, frowning, my mind jumbling into an even bigger mess. “What are you on about? How do I look at you?”
His glowing eyes cut me a sideways glance. It’s only for a fraction of a second, but I shudder regardless. “The meeting starts in five minutes.” He opens his door. “You don’t want to leave a poor impression, do you, Mr. CEO?”
I gawk out his window. Have we arrived? When did the car stop? Where is this?
Fumbling with the handle of my door, I make it out of the car in a less than graceful way.
We’ve parked by the Hudson, near those newly built high-rises that overlook the river and the nearby park.
An alleyway brimming with people and dogs stretches along the left side, and across the street on the right, Isidoro is waiting for me near the entrance of the tallest of the skyscrapers.
The letters above the glass doors read ‘Riverview Sunset’.
I jog over and follow him inside. A short elevator ride to one of the upper floors, and we emerge into an open space that reminds me of a tech company’s office, if not for the workstations that make up half of it.
Familiar faces look up from their tasks as we walk by, some unfamiliar ones too, smiling or nodding in greeting as I do the same.
These are my people. They seem happy and excited to see me. Now that I’m paying more attention, I spot S&S’ logo all over the place, clinging to walls in bright neon letters, painted on mugs and written on people’s badges.
“This is…”
“A massive upgrade. A far cry from the old warehouse you were using for headquarters?” Isidoro suggests, pointing down a white corridor lined with conference rooms.