Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Alejandro
Fuck me, she’s beautiful.
Sitting in bed in a T-shirt of mine, her hard nipples protruding through the thin white fabric, Alana drives me to distraction. Her hair is still damp from her bath, curls loose over her shoulders, and her skin shiny—from both her moisturizer and with happiness.
She licks a drop of sauce from her chin and holds her burger aloft. “This is delicious.”
“You are fucking delicious, princesa.” I immediately regret my words because I’m in danger of becoming far too open and honest about my feelings for her.
The shy smile that spreads across her face makes my slip worth it. I slide onto the bed beside her, and she takes my food out of the paper bag for me and places it on one of the small cardboard trays the restaurant provided.
It strikes me as such a small act of service but a perfect example of how thoughtful and caring she is. And that annoyingly leads me back to thoughts of her father and our meeting yesterday. “She likes to play at being a do-gooder,” he said to me, when nothing could be further from the truth.
I looked into the Maggie O’Malley Center today, and they’re the real deal, working with some of the most vulnerable people in the city.
My wife isn’t playing at all; she genuinely wants to help others.
So why is her father still pushing this pampered-little-rich-girl routine on me?
Unless he’s so blind that he actually fucking believes it.
“Is your food okay?” Her soft voice cuts through the noise.
I’m staring into space, thinking about a man I despise instead of being here in this moment with her. This most ordinary of moments, eating takeout in bed while a stand-up comedian cracks jokes on the TV in the background, but she makes it feel extraordinary.
I can’t recall the last time I even had takeout, and I’ve never eaten it in my bed. As far as I can recall, I’ve never watched TV with a woman I’ve fucked either. I pop a french fry into my mouth. “The food is good.”
She beams at me, content with the simplest things. No lingering resentment for the way I spanked her over my desk earlier—which, to my absolute fucking delight, she seemed to enjoy. She’s so easy to be around, humble and uncomplicated, yet remarkable in every way there is.
She leans back against the pillows and takes another bite of her burger. A tiny blob of sauce spills onto the sheet. She glances at me and mumbles, “Sorry,” her mouth full of food.
I wipe another smudge of sauce from her lip with my thumb and suck it off. Tastes good, but not as good as her. Nothing will ever taste as good as she does. “I told you not to worry about messing up the sheets, didn’t I?”
She nods, her eyes sparkling.
“Do you remember why?”
She swallows her food. “Because we’re just going to get them dirty anyway.”
And because she could tip an entire bottle of sauce on them, and I still couldn’t bring myself to care.
I cup her jaw and pull her face to mine.
“Ciertamente.” Then I kiss her. Soft and slow, enjoying how her mouth yields to mine.
My cock is already hard in my pants, and I’m aching to take her again, but we both need to eat.
Reluctantly, I pull back and take a bite of my burger. She was right—it is delicious.
“Do you think we could watch a movie?” she asks, hopeful.
Movies aren’t a way I like to pass the time, and I can’t recall the last occasion when I watched one.
Must have been a year or more, and it was probably some violent action film I only half watched on a plane to somewhere, when I had nothing better to do.
Right now, I can think of no better way to spend a few hours than with her curled up next to me watching the screen.
Of course, it won’t be what’s on the screen that will make those few hours pleasurable.
It will be her. “Only if it’s not some soppy romantic drivel. ”
She nudges my ribs. “Actually, I prefer action movies. The more guns and cheesy fight scenes, the better.”
Another thing that surprises me about her. “Really?”
She nods. “And I saw The Mechanic is on. How about that?”
I haven’t seen it, but then, I wouldn’t have.
We finish our food and sit side by side, propped up against the pillows.
She rests a hand on my thigh and shuffles closer, but it’s not close enough.
I lift my arm and she takes the hint, snuggling closer, resting her head on my chest, and draping her thigh over mine.
I find my fingers wandering over the tops of her arms, her shoulders, the side of her neck.
Feel her smile against my skin. And when my fingertips trail across her ribs, she giggles and squirms. Ticklish.
“Stop,” she says with a giggle when I do it again.
“How am I supposed to stop when it makes you rub up against me like that?”
She looks up at me, her cheeks glowing and her eyes sparkling with delight. “Let me watch my movie and I’ll rub up against you as much as you want, sir.”
I bite down on my lip and groan. “You know I cannot resist an offer like that.”
Another giggle before she cuddles into me once more. I slide my hand to the back of her neck and leave it there, letting her watch the rest of her movie in peace. And I simply watch her, and that’s far more interesting.
As soon as it’s over, I remind her of the promise she made me, roll on top of her, strip her naked, and kiss every inch of her.
My cock leaks pre-cum while I eat her delicious pussy—which has quickly become my favorite taste in the whole fucking world.
Then I fuck her, burying myself inside her until there’s nothing between us and nothing exists but me and her.
She consumes me.
These stolen snippets of time I spend with her aren’t enough. I want more. Need more.
I want Alana Montoya every second of every day.
Fuck. Just as I knew I would be, I am well and truly screwed.