Will do. Love ya. xoxo
:)
“This looks like it,” Alejandro says pointing to an absolutely beautiful building. “And that looks like a great place to have an espresso,” my dad says, pointing to the coffee shop just outside. Wow, I swear there are coffee shops everywhere in this city. “You wanna join me while Lizzy spends a few minutes inside?”
I watch Alejandro’s Adam’s apple move up and down his throat before he announces, “I think I’m going to go in for a second too.”
“You read?”
“Don Quixote is Spanish, amigo,” Alejandro says, sliding back into that sexy as hell Castilian accent.
“Okay then. Well, I’ll be out here sipping my coffee while you two get your read on.”
“We won’t be long,” Alejandro says, and we move together toward the entrance.
“I know your dad. He’s tired. We’ve got all the time we need.”
I giggle. Alejandro’s right. He’s just throwing dad off our scent, and I love that he knows my dad better than my dad knows himself.
Alejandro says something in Spanish to the attendant and appears to slide him twenty-five euros.
“I can pay for myself,” I say, quickly, shoving my hand into my pocket.
“Please,” he says, as his large hand comes over the top of mine. It’s only then, for the first time, I notice just how big it is. Now I see how it controlled that whip so perfectly last night, and how much I want to feel his callouses drag along my skin tonight…or sooner.
“Where’s the romance section?” I ask.
“You mean classics?”
“You know…Scottish highlander, bear shifters, Flora Ferrari…normal stuff.”
Alejandro freezes, his eyebrow raising. I can’t help but laugh before slapping him playfully on the arm.
“I don’t know about the first two, but that last one might be in the Italian section? We can check.”
“Nah, it’s okay. She just does eBooks, and I don’t think she’s actually Italian anyways.”
“Like a lot of the olive oil in the world.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go. I’ll explain as we walk.”
Alejandro takes my hand and guides me into the library. It’s absolutely fantastic, as is his story about how Italy and even Greece often purchase Spanish olive oil and then just brand it as their own. Alejandro is no doubt biased about his own country, but I have read that Spanish olive oils are actually the best in the world before, so his bias, so to speak, holds merit. Not only that but Spain, as the world’s leading olive oil producer, produces nearly three times as much as Italy, the country with the second highest level of production.
I love reading, and learning too. When it comes to reading it’s mostly just romance and other forms of fiction, but really I like anything that stimulates my mind…and as Alejandro proved last night he can sure do that, and he doesn’t need a book to get it done.
We chitchat a bit as we walk and it feels so natural. We trade facts about different countries, and it almost feels like this is what travel photos on Instagram should be about in real life…a cultural exchange, not just some practiced photo where somebody does a backflip off some famous swimming spot about fifty times until they post it and get their hundreds of likes.
I like this real kind of exchange much, much better.
And it’s because of him.
I couldn’t even imagine traveling with a guy my age. We’d probably be lying on the beach, hungover from sangria as he slid on sunglasses trying to check out all the topless Scandinavian girls with perfect bodies while I sat next to him annoyed and feeling beyond self-conscious. There’s a reason why my dad reminisces about the Swedish Bikini Team from beer commercials from 1991 I guess. Personally, I’m more a fan of the Spanish brain team, membership one, from the current year. And I’m quickly realizing that there’s no doubt he’s the one, and only, for me.
The books in the Bibliotheca Publica Arus sit behind glass doors, and there are even more wrought iron rails in front of that. There’s even a spinning globe in one section and Alejandro and I take a few minutes to point out places we’d both like to see. I leave out the fact that I’d like to see each and every place I’m mentioning…with him.
I don’t want to come on too strong or appear too needy, especially knowing at some point he’ll probably find out just how inexperienced I am. After last night he probably thinks I’m some sort of freak, but the reality is all my fantasies in my life up until a few hours ago have indeed played out with the biggest sexual organ known to woman, or man…my mind.
And they all starred him.
They say you never want to meet your celebrity crush, or any famous person you kind of idolize or think about a bit too much, because the experience is sure to be a letdown.
Not Alejandro. Not last night. And all I can think about is the next time I’m alone with him.
“Shhh!” a librarian says as she comes around and catches us having a bit too much fun. I’m not sure why she’s so worried about us as the library is empty. The whole city must be at the beach which makes this moment that much more special. I know no matter how nice the weather is, I can always go on Goodreads and chat with my friends. Our stories always come first.
And to find a man who I can see myself writing my own story with, who’s giving me a real-life Goodreads experience in the flesh? Priceless.
“This way,” he whispers into my ear and grabs my hand, leading me through a row of books.
Suddenly he stops and points to a book in one of the cases. I lean in close to the glass, trying to see which one’s caught his eye…but when I turn back around I see the apple of his eye isn’t a book.
He’s moved in closer, his body just a hairsbreadth from mine.
My hands go back and my palms press against the glass as he eliminates the distance between us, his need pressing right into me and his lips coming down just inches from my mouth.
“I want this. I want you, and not just for the time you’re here,” he groans right into my mouth.
“I want it too,” I say lightly, but that’s all it takes to send his lips crashing down into mine.
My back finds the glass behind me and it rattles slightly, but there’s no stopping us now.
Alejandro’s hand slides into my hair and around the back of my head, pushing my kiss even deeper into his.
Our tongues twirl together, his cock crams up against me, and butterflies fly every which way inside my belly…and my panties are instantly soaked.
Those big hands of his cup my ass, lifting me up off the ground like I’m light as a bag of feathers. He carries me somewhere. Where I have no clue, because I’m not looking at anything, I’m only feeling.
I have a brain that never stops, that’s always moving, but not now. He’s completely overridden my sapiosexual tendencies and has me lusting for the physical more than anything in this world.
I feel myself being carried until suddenly I’m leaning backwards, my back finding a glass case that’s at about a forty-five degree angle.
My eyes shoot open and I look to the side. He’s got me on a bookcase, laid out and the sound of his buckle unclasping echoes through our little section of the library.
Oh my god. Is he going to take me right here and now and am I going to do anything to stop it, or am I going to encourage him?
It’s not even a question because I want it.
I quickly unbutton my pants, my legs still wrapped around his waist and then it occurs to me that I have to say something.
“Alejandro, I just have to tell you something.”
“Later,” he says as his hand dives into his boxers and he whips out that big, thick cock of his like it’s a hammer and he’s going to beat me with it.
I long for nothing more.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“No one has. This is the freaking Bibliotheca Publica Arus. This is a first for sure,” he says, his pants sliding down past his ass.
“You mean?”
I nod.
“A virgin?”
Again I confirm with the movement of my head.
“Fucking mine,” he growls. “But not now. You deserve better than this.”
I thought I’d just worked out so hard to look good in a swimsuit, but now comes the most important reason why. I flex my stomach muscles with everything I’ve got, basically doing a sit-up as I grab the back of his ass pulling his hips back into me. “Oh no you don’t. You had that baby maker of yours out and you don’t put it away until you use it,” I say, knowing I look like a woman possessed, and I am.
The look on my face should scare the living hell out of him, but instead a slow smirk overtakes his face.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, kissing me so hard it sends me right back onto my back, the glass underneath me shaking to the point I think it might break. “And you’re fucking mine.”
“Starting right…” I feel the head of his cock pressing against my opening, his other hand pulling my panties to the side, “…now,” he says, as he thrusts inside me in one fluid motion.
I lose my ability to breathe as it feels like I’ve been punctured in the most unbelievable way possible. I feel like I’m in one of those war movies my dad likes to watch…the ones where a grenade or a cannonball hits too close and the characters completely lose their hearing and everything moves at a snail’s pace, or slower.
My whole life has changed, because of the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life.
And as he pulls back out of me it’s like that movie that I’m watching, which is my life playing out right in front of me, comes flying back into focus at lightning speed like another bomb has just been dropped and now I’m reminded that I’m in the fight of my life.
But this isn’t about fighting, this is about living…feeling…getting what you’ve always wanted and actually being so damn happy that you got it…that you were right in knowing that you wanted something that was so amazing that you never had a doubt it wouldn’t be like this…except it’s more. So much more.
“You okay?”
“Just fuck me, Alejandro. Fuck me,” I moan.
His cock slides in and out of me.
“You’re too fucking beautiful and this is too fucking hot. I can’t hold on much longer.”
“Don’t,” I command with a wide-open mouth gasping for air. “Fill me with your come.”
And just like that he thrusts once more and then pushes his hips so far forward I have no idea where he ends and I begin as he explodes inside me, spraying my womb like a firehose which instantly sends me into the most intense feeling I’ve ever felt in my life.
My abs fire and a tidal wave washes through me as a hurricane tears through my body and covers his cock in the havoc that was brewing inside me.
“Oh fuck, baby. Oh fuck, you’re coming. You’re so tight. You’re so fucking mine,” he moans almost in a run-on sentence again. But this isn’t the shock of seeing me for the first time, this is the shock of him knowing I’m everything he wanted, just like I’ve realized he’s the same for me.
I just knew it before he did, but now it’s something, a feeling and a whole lot more, that we share.
We just stay there, staring into each other’s dilated pupils until suddenly the click-clack of high heels on tiles grows louder…rapidly.
“Fuck,” he says, pulling out of me, and a pop indicating the vacuum seal is broken rings out in the library. I’m pissed that it has to end this fast, but nothing can bring me down from the most unbelievable high I’ve ever felt in my life.
I fumble with my pants just as he does the same.
“Lizzy? Alejandro?”
“Fuck, it’s my dad,” I whisper.
“And the librarian.”
The sound grows closer and I know they’re just one stack of books away…then a half, then…Alejandro’s hands grab me by the hips and he jerks me from the angled glass, spinning me in the process as my feet find the ground.
“And that explains how the secret relationship blossomed between the two with the help of Fermina's Aunt Escolástica,” he says, pointing inside the case.
“There they are!” the librarian says.
“Secret relationship?” my dad asks.
“Why yes, Eric,” Alejandro says. “You should definitely read the story. I feel it’s Gabriel García Márquez’s finest.”
I look down in the case and see a copy, which appears to be an original or some sort of first edition, of Love in the Time of Cholera.
The librarian, with her arms crossed, slowly lets her hands falls to her side.
“He is right, actually. It is amazing.”
My dad has nothing to say because he doesn’t read fiction, or much beyond ESPN.com, if that counts as ‘reading’.
But what’s really amazing is what just happened, and that we did it undetected…I think.
But I detect something much, much, much more important.
My feelings for Alejandro, and dare I say…amor.
CHAPTER 7
Lizzy
Two days later
“I think I’m gonna tap out,” dad says.
“Not feeling well, Eric?”
“That paella got me. I’m not a seafood guy and I was just reminded as to why.”
“What about Maestros de la Guitarra?” Alejandro asks, referring to Barcelona's most famous Spanish and flamenco guitar show.
“I’m already dizzy. Listening to that music is only going to make me dizzier. Is that a word?”
“It is, dad,” I confirm. “Let’s get you home.”
“No need. I can grab an Uber. You two go…enjoy.”
“We can’t go without you, man,” Alejandro says.
“I know those tickets aren’t easy to come by. Please go. Just tell me how it was in the morning. I’m turning in as soon as I get back to the hotel.”
“You sure?”
Dad turns, sticks his first two fingers in his mouth and whistles for a taxi.
“Dad! This isn’t the city for that.”
“I know, but I gotta get outta here. Ciao,” my dad says, trying to be cosmopolitan but using the Italian word in place of its Spanish equivalent.
“Well,” Alejandro says as the cab drives off. “That was easy.”
“So, I guess we go to the show then.”
“Yeah…I guess so,” Alejandro winks.
CHAPTER 8
Alejandro
I swear I almost feel like Eric was trying to leave the two of us alone…to give us some time together.
But no way am I allowing my mind to fool me into believing that. The man is playful and a grown-up kid in a lot of regards, but that’s one thing…testing him by telling him you want his daughter is another entirely.
We take in the show, or at least the beginning, and it really gives us a lot of energy. Now time to slow it down.
“Is this the way back to the hotel?” Lizzy asks. “I’m not usually good with directions, but this doesn’t seem right. Maybe he’s taking us for a ride.”
I reach over, placing my hand on her thigh. “Everything’s okay.”
“If you say so then I believe you.” She looks up at me with those eyes that make me melt and then leans her head on my shoulder. Just before the show I excused myself to use the restroom, but in reality I just stepped into a stall and made reservations for what comes next.
I take her hand in mine and we just enjoy the night, weaving through traffic in such a beautiful city. I’ve been here before and never really got what all the fuss is about. Sure, it’s a nice place, but now I see why it works…and it has nothing to do with the city itself, not technically at least.
Her.
She’s the one that makes me want to go to the beach, walk on the promenade, go to shows, take a paella cooking class, an
d just enjoy life as it’s meant to be lived. But this isn’t just some whirlwind romance because she’s escaping her ‘real life’ back home and I’m doing the same.
Living in Valencia is great, but I can see how Barcelona can be so much better…because there are so many things to do here and I want to do them all with her.
Summer Vacation With Dad's Best Friend (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 108) Page 4