26. Black Dahlia
BLACK DAHLIA
Alejandro
“Can you take care of if it?” I ask. “I have a dinner this evening I can’t miss.”
“Depends,” Mauricio replies. “How desperately do you want to get rid of it?”
I tap my fingers against the edge of my desk.
Since El Rey’s gambling went legitimate, we’ve been encountering issues with our former clientele, particularly the ones who preferred the way things used to be.
If it becomes too much of a headache it may make more sense to sell though I’d rather we didn’t.
El Rey was the first project I undertook on my own and I can’t bring myself to sell it for sentimental reasons.
“We could always hold off on meeting with potential buyers for a few weeks,” he reasons. “The interest will still be there.”
I keep the phone pressed against my ear as I remove my glasses. A migraine is starting to take form. “Do you think I should sell?”
“El Rey’s barely been legitimate a full year. Only time will tell.”
“I agree.” I say as the office door opens. “Before I forget, how’s the search for a new office space going?”
Contrary to what Mauricio and the others think, I do value their opinion. And before I commit to renting the space Regina offered, I want to explore my options.
“Good, actually. Hold on, I’ll email you a few pictures.”
I open up my laptop and notice Dahlia closing the office door behind her. She slinks inside with an expression that says she’s up to no good and in a dress she most certainly shouldn’t be wearing to dinner tonight.
I frown and cover the phone’s speaker. “What is that?” I mouth.
She does a full spin. “A dress.”
“Did you get the email?” Mauricio asks.
“I—yes, yes I did. I see it here.” I click on the email but make sure to send Dahlia a disapproving look over the top of my computer screen. “Where is this place?”
“Down by the water. Has a great view and a parking garage.”
The click of Dahlia’s stilettos is absorbed by the rug beneath her feet. She hops onto the edge of my desk and crosses her legs, waiting patiently.
I glare at the rising hemline of her cocktail dress. Satin fabric drapes around her middle and along the low neckline, melting into soft, flimsy sleeves hanging off her shoulders. A slit runs up the side of her right thigh and the deep, garnet color looks like heaven against her olive complexion.
I wave a finger at the dress. “Absolutely not.”
She flips her hair over her shoulder. “It’s classy.” She whispers.
“It’s provocative.”
She beams. “Thank you!”
“I—”
“Alex?”
Mauricio’s voice distracts me.
“Yes, yes, I’m here.” I return my attention to the screen. “What other places did you look at? What happened to the one on Carrer de la Marina?”
Mauricio scoffs. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
Dahlia extends her leg and presses the tip of her heel against the space between my thighs. Once she has her footing on the leather seat, she pulls it toward her and I grab the edge of the desk to keep from barreling forward.
“One of the bathrooms was undergoing repairs and it smelled like a dirty sewer in there.” He rants on the other line. “And that’s not even the worse part.”
Dahlia hops off the edge of the desk and grips the chair’s armrests. She spins me around so that when she kneels, she’s comfortably positioned between my legs. Immediately, I sit up.
“Mauricio—”
“The office next door is undergoing construction. It was so fucking loud in there I couldn’t hear myself think.” He goes on.
Dahlia makes quick work with my belt and zipper and I swear all the blood in my body rushes to between my legs the moment her fingers wrap around what is quickly becoming a very painful erection.
“Maybe we should talk—”
Mauricio can’t hear a word I’m saying. Once he starts on his tirade, he can’t stop.
“I mean, the construction in and of itself wasn’t a problem so much as the fact that they had no idea when it was going to be over. How the fuck do they not know that?”
Dahlia kisses the shaft before running her tongue along the tip, gathering the moisture there and licking her lips. I lose train of thought the second she takes me into her mouth and sucks. My entire body jerks forward and I bite my bottom lip so hard I draw blood.
Her mouth is so warm, so deliciously soft, her wet tongue gliding against the length of me with spine-tingling strokes.
I hate being in her mouth. It’s embarrassing the speed at which she can make me come when she hollows out her cheeks and sucks like her life depends on it.
The mere sight of her head moving up and down on my lap makes me seize with pleasure.
I’m so dizzy with it I’ve completely forgotten I’m on the phone with someone.
“—for rent!” I snap out of my reverie to hear Mauricio’s voice rising. “Who the fuck is going to pay that much a month for an office that’s falling apart?”
I clear my throat and wrap my hand around the base of Dahlia’s neck, tangling my fingers in her hair in order to slow her down. Which, she does, but only long enough to grip me with both hands and work them up and down my shaft, twisting and squeezing as she goes all the while her tongue is—
“Don’t even get me started on—”
“Mauricio,” I snap. “I have to go.”
I hang up before he can get a word in.
Hand still in her hair, I pull her to her feet and throw her on top of the desk.
She pushes aside folders and papers as she goes, while I slam my laptop shut and throw it into the top drawer.
I grab hold of her ankle and rest it on my shoulder as I spread her open.
The hem of her dress rises even higher, revealing her bare skin underneath. No underwear.
Gripping her by the hips, I bury my face into her wet cunt, sucking on that hot, swollen bundle of nerves until she’s clawing at my shoulders.
The taste of her makes me ravenous and each time her tightness clenches around my tongue when I thrust into her, my erection throbs just imagining how good it’ll feel.
Her wetness coats my lips and nose as I dive into her, sucking and nibbling with my teeth. I replace my tongue with my fingers, easing in and out of her at a punishing pace, so I can lap at her clit. Her thighs tighten around me and her nails dig into my scalp as she cries out.
“Oh my God!”
I pull out just before she comes. She’s lying on my desk, flustered and red-cheek, gasping for air. I let her engulf a single, deep breath before I ram my dick inside her, reveling at the way she pulses and clenches around me.
“Arch your back for me.” I hook my arms under her thighs and hold them apart as I piston into her. “Lift, Dahlia.”
Her back bows off the desk and I plunge deeper, harder.
The desk drawers rattle and shake and I don’t let up until her body seizes and I watch as she comes all over me.
I sink into her a final time and find release, much faster than I would have if she hadn’t taken me into her mouth first. I pulse and tremble inside of her, emptying myself completely.
Dahlia’s still shaking with aftershocks when I get to my knees and run my tongue down her pussy.
She tries closing her legs to me but I pin her thighs down and lick her clean, tasting the both of us on my lips.
When I’ve had my fill I rise to my feet and grip the front of her dress, pulling her toward me.
Her mascara is running and her lipstick is smeared.
Before she can get a word in, I grip her chin and squeeze.
She’s confused at first but opens her mouth willingly.
I brush my lips against hers before parting them, allowing our mixed release to trickle out of my mouth and into hers.
“Swallow.”
She blinks frantically as she closes her lips. Watching her throat work with a swallow fills me such satisfaction that I’m hard all over again.
Hazy-eyed and panting for breath, Dahlia extends an arm and wraps it around my neck.
She pulls me toward her and I obey, accepting her kiss and the stroke of her tongue with an eagerness that fills me to the point of bursting.
I delight in the simple pleasure of touching her everywhere.
Her beautiful waist, her perfect breasts, the column of her elegant neck.
She hums against me with pleasure and surprise and I open my mouth further, welcoming the explorative and possessive touch of her sweet tongue.
After what feels like a century she pulls away but only to catch her breath. She kisses me again and I cradle her face between my palms.
“I love you,” she whispers between kisses. “I love you, I love you…”
“No más que yo a ti.” I kiss her back.
“Do you like my dress?” Her eyes are closed when she asks. “I wore it just for you.”
“I’d ask you not to wear it to dinner tonight but something tells me that was always your intention.”
She smiles and I kiss her twice; once on each lip. “I had intended on torturing you with it all night. Didn’t think you’d give in so quickly.”
“Well…” I lower her onto the desk and cover her body with mine. “It is a very, very nice dress.”
Dahlia giggles as I settle between her thighs and she lifts her hips to meet me.
“As a matter of fact.” I thrust into her and she lets out a little whimper. “I can’t wait to enjoy it for the rest of the evening.”
Dahlia’s laughter dissolves into a moan as I move inside her, far slower than the first time around. As another orgasm builds a little cry leaves her lips.
“Alex.”
I make love to her until she cries out for mercy and I relish every second of it.
* * *
Dahlia
The Ortizes live in a pretentious, ultra-modern mansion in Sarria-Sant Gervasi whose harsh, unforgiving lines and austere color palette assault my senses.
From the outside it looks like a house made of Legos; one ugly box piled on top of the other with wide glass windows and a perfectly manicured lawn.
Inside is worse. All the walls are either white, dark gray, slate, or navy-blue which makes me wonder if Edith Ortiz has any say in how her home is decorated because no woman would willingly live like a tasteless single man in his early thirties.