Chapter 7 #2
“Well, you think next time, you could let me know?
Thought something had happened to you. I don't need that kind of shit messing with my head,” he further explained.
My gawd, was this man worried about me, too?
One minute he's grumpy, the next he's five seconds away from reporting my ass missing.
Strange as it sounded, it felt good to be worried about.
My whole existence was just coming and going.
It was comforting to know one person in their day thought about me.
Plus, he did go through a lot of effort.
The least I could do was put on a clean shirt, reheat it, and join him.
“I'm sure it's okay to just reheat it in the microwave.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but it would have tasted better fresh.”
“Maybe. But just let me go change, and when I come back, we can eat together.” Walking back to my room, I laid my bags on the bed, pulling out my new dresses and clothes, debating on what I should wear sharing a dinner with my trainer.
Was a sundress too much? The last thing I needed was to give him another reason to not take me seriously.
He'd probably be distracted if I wore something too revealing.
But then again, he saw me as a girl. Someone wet and inexperienced, not the woman I was forced to become.
In the end, I just went with something simple, a long-striped dress, topping it off with some sandals. Entering the dining room, from his judgmental stare I could sense that there was still a bit of tension as I fought off his attitude with a sweet smile.
“So, are you done being a grumpy meanie, or are you gonna try to be nice to me today?”
“Grumpy meanie?” he snapped. “Where do you kids come up with this shit?
And what do you mean be nice to you? I'm always nice.” He finished off with a fake smile.
Taking both our plates from the table, one by one I heated them in the microwave, and if I didn't know any better, he totally gave the sight of my ass a second take.
Okay striped dress! Placing his plate in front of him, he thanked me as I returned the favor sitting down across from him.
“You know, I've been meaning to ask you something. Because you don't sound like you're from around here. Where are you from?” he asked, reaching for a glass of water he next took a gulp from.
“Hmmm…I suppose that's a good observation. I'm not from here, I'm from Philly.” At that he laughed, using his utensils to fork around the veggies on his plate.
“Don't take this the wrong way, kid. But you must have been desperate to start over here. No one, and I mean no one, comes to Jersey to solve their problems. If anything, the second you step foot on Jersey soil, you inherit a shit load of new ones.” He wasn’t wrong about that.
But being back home, all it reminded me of was how much of a fuck up I was.
At least being here, I could start fresh.
“Yeah, well, I needed a change. I think the question you really want to know is where my folks are from.”
“I was getting to that…”
“Let me save you the trouble. Originally, my mom’s family was from Loiza, and while I never met him, my mom told me my dad's family was from Carolina.” He shrugged, then nodded.
“When I look at your tattoo, I figured as much.” My neck snapped.
“And why is that?”
“Because,” he started, fixing his mouth to clear food from his teeth. “I never met a white Puerto Rican from Loiza. Plus, relax. Isn’t that where all the prettiest women hail from?” he admitted, his eyes meeting mine as he sipped from his glass.
“Wait, is that your sly way of saying I'm pretty?” Wearing a shit eating grin, he crossed his arms.
“I'm not saying you're not.”
“Boy, then what are you saying?”
“I mean you aight. Tienes un cuerpo muy lindo. Una cara fina*. I know you're not struggling for attention,” he countered, as I rolled my eyes and slouched.
“Attention is probably the last thing I need right now.” He smiled, pulling up his chair to scoot in closer.
“But you understood what I said, right?” Trying not to give him too much to work with, I replied with a simple, “Mmmhmm.” But that only forced him to keep pressing.
“So why do you understand so much, but don't speak it?” Releasing a heavy sigh, I struggled to answer.
The short answer was, my family didn't do enough family-ing to pass it down, but the long answer is, I was still a work in progress.
“I don't know, I guess I just didn't have a good or patient enough teacher. I told you what the situation was like with my mom. The woman was barely a mom, and I just got passed around from house to house after leaving hers. I was never anywhere long or safe enough to learn I guess.”
“Do you feel safe enough here?” he grinned.
“What?” I laughed.
“Are you fine with me speaking Spanish to you?” his dark eyes suddenly wide and curious.
“No, I don’t mind,” I said, as he met me with a playful shove.
“Cuz you know when I tease you, I’m not making fun of you. I just love speaking Spanish because some shit sounds better in Spanish, and I just like sharing that with you.” His expression genuine.
“I understand you the most when you speak slower to me,” I confessed, his face lighting up in a flirtatious smile.
“Pues, un poco más despacio*? I can do that, but what I need from you is persistence.
Cuz I'm forgetful. If I'm ever talking and I'm going too fast for you, just cut me off mid-sentence.
Espérate, papi. Más lento. O despacito*, and I'll slow down for you. As slow,” he dragged that last part out. “As you need me to.”
I didn't know why I felt the need to clench my thighs tight, but hearing him say anything in Spanish, I was ashamed to admit that was my kryptonite. As long as I kept my attraction to him at bay, we wouldn’t have any problems.
***
If there was a downside to this damn program coach had me on, it was these middles of the night wake-ups.
My bladder runneth over with all the teas he had me drinking.
Usually I went to bed fully clothed, but it was a hot night, and had just wanted to feel my legs.
Heading to the bathroom, I didn't even bother putting any pants on, because I planned to be in and out, and judging coach's habits, he was usually one to sleep the night.
For the first time in my life, I was happy to be wrong, as when I reached for the knob, the door was already opening, Josue’s soaking wet, and might I add, very nude body was on immaculate display, unashamed and equally impressive.
Realizing that I was staring, I covered my eyes as he hummed a low laugh, walking by me to grab a towel to sling over his waist in the hallway closet.
“My bad, Medina. I didn't know you’d be up.” I could say the same thing about him.
“I'm sorry. I just…” being unable to get the words out. Sensing my discomfort, he interrupted.
“Relax, kid. Go get some sleep.” Closing the door to the bathroom, I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
I was a fighter. I had seen incredible physiques before, but my gawd, ones where the dick size matched the muscles was rare.
Was he even fucking hard to be packing all that?
Sad part was when I finally got around to emptying out, my kitty was fully moisturized, drenched from my arousal.
One thing was certain, I needed to get my ass laid soon, or else sharing a space with my trainer was going to become hazardous.
Now, I totally regret not putting pants on, but who even noticed when Coach had flashed me in all his glory?
After spending all that money on clothes today, you would think I would have been smart enough to have brought a vibrator.
Heading back to my room, I picked up my phone, doing a foolish thing by heading to his IG page.
Not just any post would do, it had to be a video.
One where he was huffing and puffing, making all the sexy noises I associated with fucking.
I just needed a release, and as long as it was this one time I was finally giving into this man being the star of all my fantasies, hope willing that it stayed that way.
* Cook it and eat it.
* You have a very nice body. And a pretty face.
* Like, a little slower?”
* Wait daddy(papi is more colloquial in Spanish and can be used on someone of any age) Slower. Or go slowly.