His gaze dropped to her stomach, and his shoulders seemed to lower a full inch, as if a heavy load had suddenly been dumped on them. “You think I did not hurt, too?”
“When?” she whispered in disbelief. “When were you hurting? When did you ever show any emotion? You closed off from me and buried yourself in work. I never had any inkling about what you were feeling.” Their conversations had devolved into monosyllabic interactions.
“Is that why you pulled away from me?”
“I never pulled away. You did. You hardly even touched me anymore.” But when he did, she went up in flames.
Cortez pushed away from the table and stepped closer, too close for comfort. “I still wanted you, but there were times when I thought you were simply doing your duty as my wife.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you think I was faking my orgasms?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t know what to think.”
“If you felt that way, why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you talk to me? You hid behind your work and your traveling and you left me all alone.”
“What should I have done?” he demanded. “Walked away from my music? It was the only way I knew to cope. It was important to me and there was a time when it was important to you, too. You were there, all along, supporting me. When I didn’t make any money, you supported us teaching English. We built all of this together.” He waved a hand to encompass the room.
She hefted a heavy breath past her lips. “I wanted to talk to you about…what was happening. But you worked harder. You did more shows, more studio sessions, more concerts. You never showed me you were hurt. You never showed me I could talk to you.”
“I asked you all the time how you were doing.”
“Over the phone—from a distance. From Bolivia. From Venezuela. From France. Sometimes I could hear fans partying in the background or women giggling and screaming. I wanted to see you. I wanted you to…hold me. Tell me it was going to be…okay.” Her voice cracked. “You never said a word. You never showed me that you cared.”
Cortez came closer. “So you thought the worst of me? That you married a cold, insensitive monster who didn’t care about anyone or anything but himself? Not even the death of his own child?”
She winced at such an ugly characterization, staring down at the floor. “No. I just wish you’d shown more emotion. I felt like I was grieving alone.” Pain throbbed in her voice.
The silence echoed around them, grating like an out of tune melody.
Nadine finally looked up at him, and her heart constricted at the raw emotion she saw etched in his features.
“The reason you never saw me grieve is not because I didn’t care,” he said quietly. “The reason you never saw me grieve is because…I was trying to be strong. For you.”
Chapter 15
Looking down into his ex-wife’s upturned face, Cortez could tell his words surprised her. He rubbed his temple. “I didn’t know how to help you, and you seemed to get all the care and consideration you needed from my family.”
Immediately after she came home from the hospital, the women in his family had been attentive and considerate, forming a protective perimeter around her. They offered comfort, soothing voices, and a type of empathy and understanding that often made him feel he was in the way. Friends, family, band mates—everyone asked him how she was doing. After a few pats on the shoulder and murmured sympathetic words, no one inquired after his state of mind.
They may have been expecting, but she was the one who had lost a baby. Friends and family assumed she suffered from greater distress because of her physical connection to their child, so how could he compare his loss to hers? And what could he offer except trite platitudes?
So perhaps he had shut down. It was the only way he knew to cope with his grief and not inflict more heartache on her. He thought she’d needed strength, and as a result hadn’t shown his own vulnerability. Now he realized what a mistake he’d made.
“For better or worse. Somewhere we went wrong,” Nadine murmured.
They should have been able to make their marriage work, but their worse was more terrible than anything he could have imagined. The changes in her had torn him apart. She hadn’t been the same woman he married—the one who laughed and teased or came to drag him out of the studio in the middle of the night because, as she put it, Why am I sleeping alone even when you’re in town?
His mischievous, playful, sensual wife had been replaced by a depressed woman who’d jumped at the chance of divorce. Not once had she given any indication she didn’t want that option. So when she dropped a bombshell and told him she planned to leave the country, he hadn’t put up a fight. If being here made her so miserable, how could he in good conscience demand she stay?
“At the wedding, you asked me if I was happy. I wasn’t completely honest with you,” Nadine said.
He waited.
“I’m not happy, Cortez. I want to be, but I’m not.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Not like I used to be.”
“When we were together.”
Her voice dropped even lower—so low he almost didn’t hear her. “Before it happened.”
Before the stillbirth.
The delivery had started fine, and they’d fully expected to hold their newborn son in their arms. But the umbilical cord had compressed during labor, cutting off their son’s oxygen and nutrients. She’d been forced to complete the delivery, knowing that he had already died. Still, Cortez had hoped that maybe the monitors and the doctor had made a mistake. Maybe when Cortez, Jr. came out, he would belt out a loud cry with strong lungs and prove everyone wrong. He’d seen the same hope in her eyes die the minute the doctor held up the tiny, lifeless body. They’d both been heartbroken.
“When we lost him…” Nadine’s voice wobbled, and she pressed her lips together in an obvious attempt to keep them from trembling.
Cortez took her soft hand in his but remained quiet, giving her time to pull herself together.
Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Being in the public eye made the situation so much worse. I don’t know how the press even got hold of the story.”
“There are moles in the hospital—everywhere, really. Heartless people who can be bribed to divulge information for a few pesos.”
News of the death of their son had been blasted in sensational headlines that worsened their private pain.
“I know.” She nodded. “I—” He waited for her to gain control of her emotions. She opened her mouth again, but instead of words coming out, she burst into tears.
Cortez immediately pulled her into his arms.
“It’s okay.” He whispered soothingly to her in Spanish, rubbing her back as she quietly wept for a few minutes.
Sniffling, she lifted her head from his chest. “I’m sorry.” She touched the damp spot on his shirt.
“It’s not ruined.” He swiped the dampness from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
The gentle touch sent her body quivering into awareness, and Nadine stepped out of his arms. She needed distance, but when she looked up at him to make a run-of-the-mill suggestion about forgiveness, the intense way he looked down at her made the words stick in her throat.
“I couldn’t sleep for months after you left me,” he said softly. “This house…I hated it. I still hate it. Because you’re not here. Do you have any idea what it’s like for me to be apart from you and our daughter?”
“I have an idea.” The past few years she’d hidden from the emptiness and longing, but coming back had made her face her feelings for him.
The air around them became charged, and her mouth suddenly became parched and desperate for moisture.
A spark of heat flashed in his eyes. “Nadine,” Cortez groaned huskily. He sounded helpless. Overcome.
That was all it took. That husky, pleading sound of his voice touched a chord deep inside of her and dismantled any reservations she had.
They moved at the same time. Not one before the other, but simul
taneously reaching for each other.
Chapter 16
Nadine pressed against Cortez and wrapped her arms around his neck. Immediately, her body came awake with little firestorms of pleasure.
Their mouths fused together, his lips bruising hers in the intensity of the kiss. The rich, robust flavor of the coffee he’d drunk filled her mouth, along with the unmistakably unique flavor of Cortez.
Grabbing her bottom, he hauled her tight against his pelvis, and a silent gasp traveled up her chest, loins moistening at the erotic promise of his solid erection straining against her stomach. Her fingers burrowed into the lush thickness of his hair, holding him tight to get more. She wanted his mouth on her naked skin—licking and tasting with unreserved passion. Making her wet and hungry in the way only he knew how.
She sucked on his lip and grazed the sensitive inside with her teeth, eliciting a groan from deep inside of him. He shifted his head sideways and kissed her with all the sizzling desire that had been missing during the latter part of their marriage. They’d lost this ravenous, searing passion that consumed them both and had her pressed up against him so tightly they could have been bound together with industrial-strength glue. Cortez edged her toward the sofa and she followed his lead.
Later she wouldn’t have any recollection of how they’d undressed. One minute she had clothes on, the next they were both naked and she straddled his powerful thighs on the sofa. The hard length of him extended between them and pressed against her belly like a long, hot rod, while his hands cupped and massaged her soft ass.
Their mouths reconnected, moving over each other in a deep, intimate kiss that stirred her blood and made the flesh between her legs pulse and ache. His hands glided up her sides and shaped the curve of her waist before skating even higher to cup her breasts. Her back arched as he squeezed them together and his thumbs glided in rough, deliberate circles around her taut brown nipples. He made them sting, he made them ache, and he had her so turned on she couldn’t think straight.
His mouth joined the torture as he tongued the tips and nibbled on her sensitive flesh. Nadine arched her spine at an even deeper angle and he pulled her tighter against him, sucking one breast—devouring it, really—as though he wanted to pull the entire globe into his mouth.
“Harder,” Nadine breathed, tilting her head back, losing herself in the suction of his mouth.
Cortez obliged. He moved to the other breast, sucking without mercy, and dragged his teeth along the hard peak the way that she liked. The act made her cry out and tremble from the unbearable ache of needing him.
He lifted his head and left a trail of moist heat on her swollen breasts. His mouth climbed higher to her collarbone as one hand slid between her legs. His fingers massaged her lower lips, gliding in the moisture as he circled her swollen clit. A gasp tumbled from her lips and her body became even wetter under the caress of his fingers. Helplessly she twisted, moaning and gripping his hair. She should be worried about hurting him, but all she could do was hold on and draw him even closer.
Cortez licked behind her ear, the heavy rasp of his softly spoken words and the warmth of his breath wreaking havoc against the arch of her neck.
“I need you…Cort…” Nadine panted.
He whispered to her in Spanish, words of longing and praise, and the sound of his husky voice turned her impatient. She couldn’t wait any longer. She was too desperate, too eager. With one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hard length, Nadine raised up on her knees and settled onto him in a slow, sensuous glide. He was thick and solid between her legs, and her wetness eased the entry until she was fully seated, forcing them both to let out husky groans that echoed in the quiet of the chamber-like room.
Fingers digging into his shoulders, she began to ride. She writhed on his hips, taking great pleasure in the power of his masculine form between her legs. Breathlessly panting, she felt almost reborn as she was bound to him so intimately again. Cortez gripped the soft flesh of her bottom and aided her movements up and down on his shaft. The noises in the back of his throat vibrated in the air and were the sounds of a man clearly indulging in the greatest of pleasures.
They continued to devour each other, compelled to do so by the basest of urges—luxuriating in a torment of moist kisses and sweet, demanding bites. Pushing the damp tendrils from his forehead, Nadine showered eager kisses on his face and tasted the familiar saltiness of his skin on her tongue.
The speed of their humping bodies increased to a more frantic pace, and the first sign of an orgasm stung in the base of her belly.
His eyes darkened with a lusty sexiness that made her heart trip and stumble in her chest. His lashes swept low as he concentrated, leaning back against the sofa to gain more leverage. With one hand on her waist and the other at the back of her neck, Cortez held her in place. His jaw set in a hard line. The muscles of his abs rippled as he worked his hips. He owned her, pushing air from her lungs with each mighty thrust.
The gradually unfurling tension abruptly released, and Nadine let out a small scream as ripples of pleasure burst throughout her entire body, sending shivers through every muscle. Breathing heavily, she fell forward against him and trembled as aftershocks rippled through her blood. Spent, exhausted, she felt annihilated from such a delicious, rigorous exercise.
Cortez stirred beneath her and that’s when she realized he hadn’t come. She lifted her head and searched his face. “You didn’t…?”
“Not yet,” he said in a grim tone. Before she could say another word, he maneuvered her onto her back.
The first time had been for her. How he managed to withhold his own climax, she had no idea, but by the determined set of his mouth, she knew that this time he aimed to get his own orgasm—hard and fast.
Cortez stretched her hands above her head and fastened his mouth over hers. The soft but firm movements of his kiss wrenched a moan from her chest, and Nadine parted her lips wider to accept his invasion. His tongue went deeper, tangling with hers, filling her with tingles as he stroked the roof of her mouth. He devoured her with a hunger that stole her breath and recreated tremors of pleasure down her hips and along her inner thighs. He had complete control of her now. She was beneath him and held down by him, and she whimpered in anticipation of what he would do next.
One hand continued to hold her prisoner as he hefted his heavy erection in his hand. Pressing her feet into the cushioned chair, Nadine angled her hips upward, seeking another orgasm and anxious to receive him.
He entered her without preamble. Swift. Hard. The action was punctuated by a low grunt and a Spanish curse. It was so sudden she didn’t even have time to cry out. He drew back again and shoved into her. Her wet body welcomed him. Again and again. Using a slow tempo at first, and then increasing speed with rapid succession. All Nadine could do was fling her head back, mouth falling open as she took each pump of his body into hers.
The sofa creaked beneath them. The sounds of their harsh breaths filled the air.
She’d missed this out of control passion. She’d missed his hard body, missed the sensation of his hair-roughened thighs licking at the sensitive skin of her legs. She’d missed his mouth, his hands, his scent. She’d missed the way he made love to her. The way he made her feel—beautiful, desired, irresistible.
Heat flared in her abdomen and the pressure mounted inside of her again, each successive stroke compounded the pending climax. She tightened her legs around Cortez’s lean waist, thrusting upward, thighs trembling as she strained toward satisfaction.
He gave her no reprieve, lowering his head to the beaded tip of one breast, tongue circling, teeth nipping, lips sucking on the chocolate nipple. The relentless torture of his mouth on her flesh was the final blow that sent her careening over the edge. With her body taut and arched in a silent plea against his mouth, she succumbed to the climax that assaulted the quivering flesh between her legs. Her voice cracked on a raw scream as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her body and flooded her senses.
/> Cortez followed behind, pumping so fast, his breath came in short spurts against the side of her neck. He grunted and his fingers bit into her wrists. Then a loud roar of satisfaction tore from his throat and his entire body shuddered before he collapsed on top of her.
Afterward, they lay facing each other, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Their sweat-slick bodies clung to each other, limbs intertwined to save space on the narrow sofa. One of Nadine’s legs was trapped between his, and they each had an arm wrapped around the other. They were in that sleepy, satisfied state after great sex.
“Do you hear it?” Cortez asked, a husky, deep sound to his voice. He brushed a thumb across her brow and flicked a damp tendril of hair behind her ear.
“Hear what?” Nadine asked.
He smiled at her. “My heart is singing,” he whispered.
She melted. The onset of tears pushed against the corners of her eyes. “Me, too. Mi corazón canta tambien.”
Chapter 17
If kisses were wine, Nadine would be drunk off the potency of Cortez’s kisses right now. She was giggling, actually giggling, as he chased her onto the private balcony outside the master suite and trapped her against the ornate ironwork. Early morning quiet greeted them, the sun just beginning to break, casting orange rays to illuminate the scattered clouds in the sky. She’d always loved to watch the sunrise from this spot.
They’d been up most of the night and had not too long before taken a shower together. She wore Cortez’s shirt, but he was completely naked, his hard body flush against her back, arms folded around her midsection in an embrace that was simultaneously sensual yet playful. She popped the last red grape from their platter of fruit into her mouth and laughed, tossing her head back as he growled in mock anger against the side of her neck.
“Codiciosa,” he said.
“I am not greedy. If I didn’t eat it, you would have.”
Still in Love Page 7