“Who was that woman?” She pointed. “The one in the elevator.”
“Why?” Abena’s brow wrinkled.
“I know her.”
“Oh.” Abena frowned. “Her name is Andrea. She works for Mr. Galiano.”
“In what capacity?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” Sonia snapped.
Abena’s eyes widened at the harsh tone. “I don’t understand—”
Sonia swung around and marched toward Esteban’s office. Without knocking, she shoved open the door.
He stood at the desk, his finger on a desktop calendar, as if making a note of a particular date.
He preferred when she wore dresses and skirts, and his gaze ate her up. She’d grown accustomed to that look in his eyes whenever he wanted her, and anything could trigger his lust.
“What perfume are you wearing?” he’d once asked, pressing his nose to the skin of her neck.
“Something new,” she’d whispered, already getting aroused by the husky sound of his voice.
Within a few minutes, they’d been naked on the bed with a type of frantic hunger that never seemed to grow old.
But she didn’t care about any of that right now. She needed answers.
“How do you know that woman?” she asked.
An eyebrow winged toward the ceiling. “What woman?”
“The woman who left your office seconds ago. Andrea, the redhead. How do you know her?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Abena standing awkwardly just inside the office.
“Please excuse us, Abena,” Esteban said quietly, keeping his eyes on Sonia.
His assistant left the room and quietly closed the door.
“Andrea works for me,” Esteban said.
“How? What does she do?” Her heart raced so fast that she became unsteady on her feet.
“She helps me get rid of problems.”
“She’s the one I caught Pedro with. Was he a problem, and you used her to get rid of him through entrapment?”
“Entrapment?” Esteban chuckled and sank into the leather chair behind his desk. He surveyed Sonia like a king on a throne, resting an elbow on the armrest and rubbing a finger across his upper lip. “What exactly do you think I did, querida?”
Sonia took angry strides across the room to stand on the other side of the desk. “You hired her to sleep with him.”
“I hired her to place him in a compromising position. If she decided to go the extra mile, that was her decision, and not part of my instructions.”
“So you admit you set him up?” Her head was spinning. “Why?”
“Because I needed you to see that he was no good for you. It didn’t take much, from what I understand. She bought him a drink, flirted a little, and she was on her way home with him.”
“How did she know when I’d be home so that I could see them?”
“She didn’t. It was purely coincidence that you arrived at the same time. It couldn’t have worked any better if she’d planned it herself.” He sounded smug and satisfied with the outcome. No regret in his voice at all.
“So you bought her services to get rid of my boyfriend.” She leaned on her hands over the desk, analyzing his features. She didn’t know what she expected to find—some softness, perhaps. But there was none. He gazed back at her with amused indifference, as if daring her to ask more questions, daring her to find a soul beneath the Armani suit.
“You use your money as a weapon,” she said, straightening.
“And you hate it, don’t you?” he said. “You hate all the things my money buys. The clothes you wear, the shoes on your feet, the diamond around your neck. This must all be very difficult for you.”
The veracity of the words stung. She had no reason to complain. In the short time they’d been lovers, she’d become obsessed with the best of everything, buying high-end brands, organic foods, and all-natural beauty products.
“You think everything is about money. There are more important issues, like honesty and integrity and—”
“Everything is about money. Money buys affection, respect, and loyalty. If money is so unimportant, then why are you here?” he asked.
She didn’t have an answer—at least not one she could give truthfully. In the beginning, her role in his life had been about the money and what she could obtain from the relationship. But slowly, her feelings had changed. She had started to feel affection for him. She had started to care, but those were dangerous emotions. Ones she’d promised herself not to experience again, and yet here she was—her stomach tangled in knots because while her heart ached for a normal relationship, she knew she could never have one with a man who paid her to be by his side.
“I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going home.”
“No, you’re not,” he said.
She silently fumed. “Yes, I am.”
“No, Sonia. You’re not. Come here.”
Their eyes challenged each other in a battle of wills.
“I said, come here.” He spoke slowly and quietly, but his voice was no less lethal and the words no less demanding. His eyes narrowed on her, and all she saw was raw possessiveness in his angry gaze. “Now.”
He’d been demanding before, but never like this.
Esteban watched the battle that waged internally play out across her face.
Should she or shouldn’t she? For long seconds she couldn’t decide, but at the exact moment he knew she consented, her head tilted a little higher. She approached him with a taut jaw, and he tugged her down onto his lap, her luscious bottom resting right at the apex of his thighs.
Bringing his mouth close to her ear, he hauled rough air into his lungs and smelled the sweet scent of a new perfume. She smelled like a field of flowers in bloom, and already, he felt his body hardening. “You’re upset I got rid of a man who didn’t deserve you?”
She stared out the window, refusing to look at him. “You don’t get to make the decision about who should remain in my life and who should go.”
He found the split in the dress and pushed it apart. Sliding his hand between her legs, he caressed her soft thigh and listened with satisfaction as her breathing became less steady. “I don’t regret what I did, and you don’t get to refuse my dinner invitation because you’re upset.”
All day he’d been looking forward to their evening out. They weren’t only going to eat. He’d planned a big surprise. He’d instructed Abena to purchase tickets to the Jill Scott concert in New York, and they were taking his private plane on the trip after dinner.
Sonia might not understand the relevance, but in the past, his mistresses had attended events he liked. Tonight he’d made a conscious effort to participate in an activity just for her, to make up for his behavior about Stone a couple of weeks ago. He’d even arranged for Sonia to meet with the singer backstage after the show. To have her shove his invitation in his face, over a man he’d disposed of months ago, infuriated him.
“Whatever you say, Esteban. You pay the bills. You pay. I obey.”
Any other woman and he wouldn’t have cared if she’d reduced their relationship to an exchange of currency for companionship, but Sonia’s response enraged him. He gripped the fine material of her dress.
He stood abruptly, and she hopped off his lap, staring at him with defiance.
“That’s right,” Esteban said.
“And I’m oh so appreciative of your generosity.”
He clenched his teeth, almost grinding them to dust. “As you should be. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your shoes?”
“Too many to count, I’m sure.”
Esteban sat down in the chair. “Take off your shoes.”
The animosity on her face wavered. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, then slipped her feet from the pair of sexy gold sandals and left them beside the desk.
“Sit,” he said.
“Here.” He pointed to the desktop.
Sonia eyed him warily and then moved onto the furniture. She looked concerned, licking her lips nervously. They became moist and kissable, but he tamped down the urge to drag her close and have a taste.
“Lift up your dress, and let me see your panties.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced out the window. The sun was still high in the sky, and even on this less busy section of Ocean Drive, people and cars passed back and forth at a regular pace.
Slowly, with heightened color in her cheeks, she pulled the parted edges of her dress apart and eased the folds higher. She wore a black lace thong, the one he’d requested.
“Take them off,” Esteban commanded, his voice hoarse. He positioned the chair directly in front of her to block the view from the road.
“You’ve proven—”
“Take them. Off.”
“Esteban—”
“I pay. You obey,” he snarled.
Her mouth clamped shut. The animosity returned to her face, but she hooked her thumbs in the strings at her hips, and watching her wiggle out of the tiny scrap of lace had to be one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen. She dropped the undergarment onto his desk and waited.
“Put your feet here.” He patted the armrests.
Her gaze flew to the window again before returning to him. “Someone will see us.” She gripped the edge of the desk as if preparing for a rough ride.
“Let them. I don’t care.”
Beneath the dismay, he saw excitement and the anticipation in the uptick in her breathing.
She set her feet on the rests, and his eyes dropped to the exposed area between her thighs and the strip of hair at their apex. He rolled closer, as if pulling up to the dinner table, and the angle of her knees deepened. Tracing a finger over her almost bare folds, he listened to her whimper. He knew she’d be extra sensitive there after her waxing today.
She’d waxed for him. She’d worn that thong and the yellow dress for him.
He continued to work his hand between her legs. He inserted one finger, then another into the slick channel. Another whimper dragged from her throat, this time thicker and louder. She rested on her hands, and her head fell backward. Laid bare to him and open in such a raw, uninhibited way.
Dios, she was so passionate. So aroused and ready.
“Please,” she whispered brokenly.
He circled her wet clit, and she breathed his name like a prayer, her body arching into a sexy curve. He continued to massage her flesh, kneading the sensitive spot with his entire hand. The scent of her arousal inflamed his lust and turned the organ in his pants into a rod of iron.
He had to get a taste. Esteban flicked his tongue across the swollen folds of her sex, and she shuddered, spreading her legs even wider, wanting him to do more.
Gripping his hair, she held him in place. Not that he was going anywhere. This was exactly where he wanted to be. Right here, between her thighs. She pushed her hips closer and lifted one leg over his shoulder. She pressed closer to his gentle kisses, demanding a more aggressive approach, urging his mouth tighter to her drenched flesh.
It seemed to take only seconds before she came, her pink toes dangling over his shoulder as the sun’s rays slanted across their bodies in full view of the street. She bit down on her lip and let out a body-shuddering moan as her body rocked through the climax.
Esteban refused to stop kissing and licking. He wanted to give her another orgasm. He wanted her to drench his tongue with proof of her desire. And he wanted her to be fully aware of who was in charge.
When the second orgasm broke free, she twisted on the wooden surface of the desk. Once again she bit into her bottom lip and stifled a cry that he suspected, if let loose, would be heard all the way to the restaurant on the first floor.
Spent, she panted on her back on the desk while Esteban wiped his mouth with a tissue.
Then he stood and unzipped his pants. He took her on top of the desk with her legs latched around his waist. Keeping her arms pinned above her head, he thrust into her and wrung another orgasm from her body as though it was his due.
Sonia didn’t leave Esteban’s private bathroom right away after she finished cleaning up. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for so long that her vision blurred and she lost track of time.
A loud rap on the door made her jump and jolted her from the trancelike state.
Esteban’s commanding voice came through. “Sonia, we have dinner reservations.”
She took a deep breath and said, “I’ll be right there.” Thankfully, her voice didn’t reveal the turmoil within.
She reapplied her lipstick without looking in the mirror again. She couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to see the truth. The confusing emotions, the hurt from his judgment about Stone, the desperate need to hold on to normalcy in a relationship that was anything but normal meant she’d done something so foolhardy she couldn’t look at herself right now.
Their relationship started out as an arm’s-length transaction with no emotions and no feelings. But she wanted more. Needed more, from a man who’d entrapped her ex-boyfriend and got rid of him, to get her. To win.
She’d fallen in love with Esteban, but he paid for her to be by his side. He saw her as a possession—like one of his cars, or a painting.
After dropping the lipstick into her purse, she snapped it closed and faced the door, gearing up to get back out there and face him.
That he’d agreed to her cynical definition of their relationship hurt more than she could have imagined, and yet she couldn’t stop him from taking her on top of the desk. Didn’t even want to. She was so damn weak for him.
I pay. You obey.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat. She had a job to do.
Taking another deep breath, she tucked her purse under her arm and opened the door.
Chapter 31
Another Saturday night, another party. This one took place on a yacht in the middle of Biscayne Bay. When she and Esteban received the invitation to attend, she’d initially declined because he’d told her to. But the hosts had followed up with a personal plea because the owner of the yacht wanted to talk to him about a resort in Mexico. So here they were.
She’d enjoyed the surprise trip to New York, but ever since the encounter in his office and the acknowledgment of her feelings, Sonia hadn’t been the same.
“Cheers!” The sound of laughter filtered into the night air, and she watched as a small group of friends giggled and fell all over each other. Everyone in attendance was either drunk or tipsy, except her. She’d refrained from drinking because of a queasy stomach she’d experienced earlier today.
She did the usual and chatted with the women there, dutifully circulating among the guests, smiling, and laughing. While in the past she’d enjoyed herself, tonight she wished she were at home with her feet up watching television.
The women at this event represented a mix of young ladies dating older men or mature women married to men who were CEOs and presided over the boards of charities and nonprofits. She had the pleasure of listening to the women brag about how they used to work but no longer needed to, what mistakes the nanny or housekeeper had made that they’d chastised them for, and how to make the difficult decision between vacationing in the Caribbean or the South of France this year.
She twisted away from the sight of the huddled friends and made her way to the railing, where she looked out across the sea. Inhaling deeply of the salt air, she closed her eyes as the cool breeze wafted across her bare arms and shoulders.
“Why are you standing here alone?” She heard Esteban’s low voice right before he dropped a kiss on her neck and closed his warm body around hers from behind.
“Enjoying the fresh air.” Sonia turned her face to him because that was what he expected. After all this time, they’d developed routines.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“Am I?”
�
��You’ve been quiet a lot lately.” He dropped a light kiss to her lips.
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“No.” Sonia dropped her gaze to the waves below, turned navy—near black—in the diminishing light.
“Are you ready to go?” His voice had dropped even lower.
Sonia smelled the brandy on his breath and knew he’d ordered it neat. She knew a lot about him, bits and pieces trickling in during the nine months of their liaison.
He stayed fit by swimming, boxing, and bike riding. He was an early riser, needed an espresso midmorning, and often skipped lunch in favor of a large meal later in the afternoon. He’d played soccer as a teenager, well enough to make the school team but not well enough to play in a league. And she was here because he needed a companion and a woman to warm his bed, and didn’t mind paying for it. She could no longer pretend that this was any deeper than that.
“I’m ready if you are,” she answered. She knew better than to point out that he was a specially invited guest they expected to remain for most of the night. Esteban did whatever he wanted, bucking convention and living by his own set of rules.
His hands slid to her hips, and he nuzzled her neck, this time gently nipping the skin and pressing his swelling manhood against her bottom. “Good.”
He slid his hand down her arm, laced their fingers together, and drew her along with him. They said their goodbyes to the host and left on a small boat that took them from the revelry to the shore, where Abel waited with the limo.
Sonia slid into the back seat.
“Something is wrong,” he said, watching her.
“What do you mean?” She crossed her legs.
His hand extended across the back of the seat as he watched her. “You’re sitting far away from me. You do that when you’re upset.”
Sonia laughed easily. “I’m not upset.”
“No? Then come here.”
The gentle command irked her, but she slid across the seat and settled under his arm.
More Than a Mistress (Latin Men Book 5) Page 19