At his whispering in my ear, his hands still light on me, the tingles graduated to shivers.
I turned my head and tasted the underside of his jaw. I felt his stubble rough against my tongue. I liked that too.
Apparently so did Hector. His mouth came back to mine for another urgent, wet kiss, his hand slid over my bottom and he pulled me to him. I felt he was already hard and I liked that I could make him that way. I liked it enough to tug at his shirt, pull it up, his mouth broke from mine and he arched his back and lifted his arms so I could yank it off and toss it away.
He came back to me immediately, his body heat hitting me, his mouth and tongue all over my neck, throat, chest, everywhere. The tingly shivers graduated to tremors then (shortly thereafter) panting and finally (shortly after that) squirming.
This didn’t feel normal and natural.
This felt extraordinary and supernatural.
His hand came up my midriff, its heat hitting my breast as his fingers curled around and held me. I pressed into his hold and the minute I did his fingers uncurled but his palm stayed where it was then it did slow circles against my nipple through the fabric.
Oh my.
I gasped into his mouth.
“That’s nice,” I breathed against his lips.
I felt him smile against mine.
Then his fingers snagged the edge of my camisole and they pulled it down over my nipple and, all of a sudden, his mouth was there then his tongue was there then he sucked deep.
My neck arched, my back arched, my hips arched, everything arched as supernatural happy feelings shot from my nipple to between my legs.
Hector’s mouth disengaged, he pulled up the camisole, covering me again but pulled down the other side to do the same exact thing.
Heaven.
The squirming became writhing and my hands moved over the skin of his shoulders then I engaged my fingernails (I couldn’t help it, it felt so darn good). My nails scraped up his skin, feeling his muscles tense, up… up… all the way up, straight into his scalp.
At the feel of my fingernails, he groaned against my nipple (that felt good too) and came back over me to kiss me, hotter, harder, deeper. His hands were not light and sweet now but urgent and hungry and all I could think was getting more of him.
My fingers left his hair and my hands pushed between our bodies. I pulled my own drawstring on my bottoms and started to wriggle them down. Hector felt it, rolled off me and, whoosh, my pajama bottoms and panties were gone.
Before I could react to the cold of losing him and most of my clothing, his hands spread my legs, he rolled between them, tagged me behind the knees, lifting them to bent then wrapping my calves over his shoulders and then (no kidding!) his mouth was right there.
No, his mouth, lips and tongue were (no kidding!) right there.
And he knew how to use them.
Blooming heck but it felt good. My fingers slid into his hair to hold him to me as supernatural, extraordinary happy feelings scored a path through what felt like every fiber of my being. They gathered, tightened and I felt it coming.
But in the very, very back of my mind, I knew I didn’t want it that way.
And the very, very back of my mind, for once, didn’t want to be ignored.
“No,” I whispered between moans.
I would have thought he wouldn’t have heard me but immediately Hector’s mouth disappeared. His body came over mine and I felt his heat on me as his weight hit me.
He shoved his face in my neck.
“All right, mamita, we’ll stop,” he muttered there, voice rough.
“No,” I repeated, my hands reaching for the waistband of his pajamas, my head turning so my mouth was at his ear. “I want it to happen with you,” I breathed.
His head came up.
I didn’t look at him, I was busy trying to push down his pajamas (I failed, what could I say, he was taller than me, my arms didn’t reach).
“Sadie?”
Our eyes locked and at the look in his I knew I really wanted it to happen with him, his gaze was hot, dark and hungry. My stomach pitched at the sight and my body squirmed (but my hands were still trying to find purchase on his pajamas).
Finally, since he seemed frozen where he was, I said perhaps with the eensiest bit of desperation, “Hector please, I want you inside me.”
“Sadie,” he groaned but still, he hesitated.
My mouth went to his and I whispered, “Please.”
Within seconds (I didn’t know how he did it and I didn’t care), he filled me.
Hector “Oh my God” Chavez was deep inside me.
And I’d never felt anything better in my whole fucking life.
Then he started moving.
And that felt even better. In fact, it felt amazing.
“That feels amazing,” I panted in his ear, his head moved and I caught his grin right before he kissed me again.
Hector was a good kisser but all the other kisses he’d given me were nothing compared to how it felt to be kissed by him while our bodies were connected and he was moving inside me.
None of them were even close.
Eventually, I found I couldn’t kiss him anymore. I was breathing too hard, my hips moving against his, my hands on his skin, my fingernails digging in.
He lifted my legs at the knees and drove in deeper.
It was exquisite.
I shoved my face in his neck as I felt the beautiful anticipatory tightness right before my mouth went to his ear.
“Hector…” I started to say something, I didn’t know what but I didn’t get to finish because, right then it washed over me, fierce, fiery and huge.
Bliss.
When I was done, I opened my eyes slowly, coming down, feeling him still moving inside me, driving deep, grinding hard and I saw he was watching me, his eyes as hot as his skin.
“So… fucking… beautiful,” he whispered.
Then it was my turn to watch.
* * * * *
After he was finished, I took his whole weight and found I liked him heavy on me, his heat beating into me, his weight pressing me into the bed, his body still connected with mine.
He started to pull away.
My arms tightened around him and my thighs pressed into his hips.
He stilled.
“I’m too heavy,” he said into my neck.
“I like it,” I whispered. He didn’t say anything so I explained, “Your body’s warm, I always feel cold. You make me feel warm and I never felt warm in my life.”
I decided not to share the “snugly, lovely, comfy, safe” part with him.
A second passed then he muttered, “Jesus.”
Well, maybe he read in the “snugly, lovely, comfy, safe” part.
Blooming heck.
More seconds ticked by then his head came up, his fingers slid into the side of my hair and his eyes scanned my face.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
I didn’t share that I did feel okay. In fact, it might be the first time I felt “okay” in my life. In that bed, in that room, in that house with Hector, I felt I was where I was supposed to be.
Where I belonged.
The drowning sensation hit me, the warm water lapping at my body, threatening to cover me and I had the strange desire to pull in my breath… and sink.
Before this could weird me out (and I did anything stupid), he rolled us, we disconnected, he ended up on his back, me on top, our legs tangled. His body bucked and he yanked the bedclothes from under us and whipped them on top.
I lifted my head and one of his hands came to my hair. He pulled out the ponytail holder and my hair fell down around us. He tossed the ponytail holder on the nightstand and his fingers went inside my camisole then stilled at my sides.
“I wanna take this off,” he murmured.
As an answer, before I chickened out, I did the same thing he did earlier, arching my back and lifting my arms. He tugged off the camisole and thr
ew it to the floor at the side of the bed.
I settled, skin-against-skin, chest-to-chest and his heat was overwhelming, penetrating my body, warming me straight to the core.
He pulled the covers high over my back then his hands slid down to my bottom and cupped me there.
I tucked my face into his neck, his warmth and my sensation of okayness settled in my belly then in my chest, right by my heart.
Softly, I whispered, “Thank you.”
His hands moved from my bottom so his arms could wrap tight around my waist.
This was nice, except his body was moving as if he was laughing.
My body got stiff.
“What’s funny?” I asked his neck.
“Mamita, you just gave me the best gift anyone’s ever given me and you’re thankin’ me?” he replied.
Oh… my… God!
He didn’t just say that.
Did he just say that?
“Are you for real?” I breathed, it came right out of my mouth and I knew I sounded like an idiot but I really did want to know.
His arms got tighter and his body started shaking harder.
My head lifted and I looked at him. He was smiling, brilliant white and glamorous.
“What’s funny now?” I demanded, my eyes narrowed.
His hilarity became vocal and he burst out laughing. I didn’t find anything was funny (at all) so I slapped his shoulder. He rolled us to our sides and shoved his (still laughing) face in my neck.
“Stop laughing,” I ordered.
He kept laughing.
“Seriously, Hector,” I warned him. “I’m getting annoyed.”
His face came out of my neck and when I caught sight of it, he was still smiling.
“Well then, mi cielo, we’ll have to do somethin’ about that,” he announced, rolling us again, him on top.
Then his hands started moving on me.
“What are you…?” I tried to pull away from him but one of his arms locked tight and held me close. I looked at his grinning face but read his intent loud and clear.
He couldn’t be serious. Could he?
“We can’t have sex again,” I told him in the Voice of Authority. “We just finished five minutes ago.”
His mouth went to my shoulder then trailed up, he added his tongue when it got to my neck and I shivered.
At my ear, he muttered, “Is that a rule?”
“No, it’s not a rule. It’s physically impossible,” I informed him, sounding vaguely Ice Princess but Know-It-All Ice Princess this time.
His lips came to mine and he looked into my eyes.
His were warm and intense. Really warm and intense.
Oh my.
“We’ll work up to it,” he murmured right before he kissed me.
Then we did.
* * * * *
I felt the slap of cold that didn’t go away even when the covers were tucked tight around me.
When the tucking stopped, I opened my eyes and slightly lifted my head. It was still dark and I could hear Hector moving in the room.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, my voice scratchy with sleep.
I felt the bed move when Hector’s weight hit it. He sat, pulled my hair away from my neck and leaned in.
“Doorbell. I’ll take care of it. Go back to sleep,” he answered, kissed my neck right where it met my shoulder then the bed moved again as he got up. I watched his shadow walk across the room while tugging on the thermal and he disappeared into the darkness.
I rearranged the pillows (Hector was a serious pillow hog), two beneath my head, one I held tight to my belly. I settled in thinking that Gloria and her posse were back for another try at some hot tub action.
Then I thought that it might be fun to sit in Hector’s hot tub with Gloria and her posse.
Then I thought it might be more fun to sit in Hector’s hot tub with Hector.
Then I fell back to sleep.
* * * * *
The covers slid off my shoulder and I could feel the heat and soft touch of a hand taking them away.
“Sadie?” Hector called.
My eyes opened. “What?” I muttered.
“Wake up, mamita, the Zanos are here.”
I blinked in the darkness. Then I got up on an elbow, holding the covers over my chest.
I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was still half-asleep. I could have sworn he just told me the Zanos were there in the middle of the blooming, blooming night.
“What?” I asked.
“Get dressed, the Zanos are here,” he repeated. “We gotta talk.”
He did say the Zanos were there.
I sat up fully and held the covers against me with one hand, pulled my hair out of my face with the other. Hector had moved from sitting on the bed. He was bent over, gathering my clothes from the floor.
“What are the Zanos doing here?” I asked.
Hector handed me my clothes. “Just get dressed, preciosa. We’ll talk downstairs.”
The serious tone of his voice meant I should probably not take this as happy news.
Though what middle of the night visits were ever happy news? Except, of course Gloria and her girls’ bid for the hot tub, that wasn’t exactly happy (for Hector) but I found it humorous.
I decided to do as asked. First, he’d just called me “preciosa” something I liked (a lot) and even though I figured I knew what that meant, I still added a call to Jet on my Mental To-Do List for the morning to see where that ranked in Spanish endearments. Second, I wanted to find out what trauma was about to befall me now so I could deal with it and maybe get some sleep before the next one.
Hector moved across the room as I put on my camisole then fought the sheets and comforter as I put on my panties while in bed. Semi-decent, I got out of bed and pulled on my bottoms.
All of this effort was for nothing. Hector was rooting around in his closet and I’d rounded the bed by the time he found what he wanted.
He joined me at the foot of the bed and offered me a shadowy piece of clothing.
“Put that on,” he ordered.
I took it, saw it was a flannel shirt and shrugged it on. It was soft and it was warm and I hoped it wasn’t Hector’s favorite because I instantly decided it was going to find its way into my overnight bag.
We walked down the stairs. The lights were on and Ren was standing in the living room with his uncle, Vito Zano, and his cousin Dom.
What in the heck was going on?
I hesitated, not knowing what to do. Even my father’s incessant training in social niceties hadn’t prepared me for a middle of the night visit from the Zano Family. In fact, I was certain sure that kind of visit could not be found in any etiquette book.
Then as I had loads of practice at dealing with whatever weird situation came my way, I made a decision and walked to Vito.
“Mr. Zano,” I greeted, putting out my hand.
He took my hand and used it to pull me into his arms for a warm hug.
“None of that ‘Mr. Zano’ business now that Seth’s out of the way, little one. I’m your Uncle Vito now,” he told the top of my head.
Well, that was just great. Now I had an “Uncle Vito” to add to my growing list of friends I never knew I had.
Did no one remember my Ice Princess? Was everyone determined to make it harder for me to cut ties and disappear?
Darn it all to heck!
He let me go, I pushed aside my mental tantrum and I looked to Ren and Dom.
Ren looked good (as usual), wearing jeans and dark brown turtleneck.
Dom Vincetti, his cousin, was wearing a long-sleeved, thermal henley and jeans, looking rough in a way that was a lot like Hector (but Hector did it better, in my opinion).
Dom had always been the wild one. He was good-looking too and usually an outrageous flirt, sometimes not in a good way, in a way my father said was crass. Now, he wasn’t looking at me like he usually did (as if he was mentally undressing me) but in a different way, intense, and bizarrely
at the same time, soft.
Just like Ren was looking at me.
This time, I let Blanca’s lesson take hold and instead of moving toward either of them (which might involve some form of touching which might make Hector mad, something I wished to avoid at all costs), I moved to Hector.
Hector’s arm slid along my shoulders as I said to Ren and Dom, “Hi guys.”
Dom blinked. Ren’s eyes flicked to Hector then back to me and he grinned.
Hector tucked me in his side.
No one spoke.
I waited.
Still, no one spoke.
Finally, when I could take it no more, I asked, “What’s up?”
Hector answered, “The Zanos got Ricky.”
My body went solid. Then relief dripped through me and I sagged into Hector.
Thank you, God.
“Thank God,” I whispered.
“No Sadie,” Hector said softly and I looked up at him and saw his face was carefully blank but his eyes were glittery hard. He kept talking. “You don’t get it, mamita, they’ve got him but now you need to decide what they’re gonna do with him.”
My relaxed body went solid again.
“What?” I asked Hector.
Uncle Vito spoke. “You got two choices, little one,” he told me and my eyes turned to him. “The first, we take Balducci to the police.” He stopped talking, I nodded then he went on, “The second, Balducci disappears.”
My body jerked.
“Disappears?” I repeated, my voice breathy and disbelieving.
“Disappears,” Dom affirmed and my gaze moved to him. “Gone. No one ever sees him again, not you, not his brothers, no one.”
I just stared at Dom not comprehending what he was saying or, more accurately, trying not to comprehend what he was saying.
Dom continued talking, “He fights the charges, you have to testify, you have to go through it again. Or you can choose for him to disappear and we take care of it. No trial, no testifying, it’s over, he’s certain to pay and you move on.”
Were they telling me they were going to whack Ricky Balducci for me?
Blooming heck!
“I can’t ask you to –” I started.
“We wouldn’t do it,” Uncle Vito interrupted quickly, eyes on Hector then his gaze came back to me. “You ain’t the only one who hates Ricky. We put the word out he’s available, they’ll come out of the woodwork. We chose the one who’ll do the job right, we hand him over, we walk away. We don’t know what happens from there, you don’t, Chavez doesn’t neither does his brother or Nightingale. No one’s the wiser and it’ll be done.”
Rock Chick Regret Page 25