by Box Set
“Easy fix.”
She closed her eyes, enjoying the thrills of excitement surging up and down her body like two arrows going in opposite directions. He nibbled her chin, his teeth lazily grazing her tender flesh. A heightened frisson tingled through her, her nipples pebbling against her top. She heard the tap being turned, and soon cold water splashed on her shoulders and hair. In her house, it took longer than a few seconds for the temperature to adjust. But the contrast of cold liquid and the heat of his mouth on her only added to her state of complete and utter sexual abandonment.
His mouth found hers again, and this time the kiss demanded. He slid his hand under her sweat pants, and slammed her against the wall. She used her tongue in hopes of translating what she experienced… she caressed his tongue, stroked it. Fought it and brought it back to peace, while his sneaky fingers pulled down her pants and underwear, and caressed her sweet spot. “Ever since I saw you again, I’ve been wanting to do this…” he said, flicking her clit. “And this.” He continued, sucking her tongue. She mellowed under his touch. “I want you so much, Roxie. Mi sol.”
Mi sol. His sun. His words egged her on, and she raked her fingers into his hair, soaking wet and the texture even smoother because of the shampooing. God. What am I doing?
“Me too.” She heard herself saying, and her throaty voice could give Scarlett Johansson a run for her money.
His thumb continued with its heavenly flicks, while his finger entered her, and she almost jumped with sheer awareness. She glanced at him, and caught the glint of desire burning deep in the golden flecks. She swallowed, and seeing him like this made it all so real.
Flashes of their night together flickered in her mind; how he’d penetrated her, fast. How she’d wanted him to, but had stiffened with pain. Her body hadn’t been ready for him, or for his size. Realizing she’d been uncomfortable, he had stopped, but she encouraged him to keep going because at that moment she had really thought she wanted to give him her virginity. Because she’d trusted him.
“You okay?” he cupped her chin, forcing her to stare at him.
“Yes.”
“This will be good, Roxie. I’ll make you come over and over again.” His voice dropped an octave.
She felt her cheeks burning, but played it off. “A tough promise to keep.”
“I’m up to the challenge, mi sol.”
“I bet you are,” she said, and it was her time to let her fingers play with the hem of his jeans. His impressive bulge pressed against the rough fabric, and when she cupped it, he groaned.
She kissed him, and linked her arms around him, wanting to touch his athletic chest, the delicious muscled wall cornering her against the wet tile. So amazing. So…
The swish of her tank top being ripped startled her, and she gasped. Her breasts bounced into view, ripe and ready. He lowered his head and brought one of them into his mouth.
She whimpered. The sensation of his warm tongue sliding over her tingling nipple set a scorching current through her. What could be better than this?
Water continued to splash down, and the humid vapor swirled around them like smoke. He nipped at her breast, while his finger teased her slick folds.
“Stefano,” she hissed.
He worked his way down on her, and when his head nudged between her thighs, she drew in a breath. When they had sex, it had been two teens who didn’t really know what they were doing, fueled by alcohol and hormones.
The tip of his tongue flicked over her sex, and a flurry of moans escaped her mouth. She squirmed under his mouth, and for a moment a heady sensation took over her. Damn. He stroked her clit, and sucked her essence like his life depended on it.
“I’m going to—
The muzzled sound of a cry yanked her from reality—the type of sound only a mother whose kid experienced night terrors occasionally would recognize. Gasping, she jerked away from him. He stood and didn’t protest, but blinked as if he was just beginning to hear Adam’s cry.
“Roxie…”
“I have to go. Adam needs me.”
He nodded, and opened the door of the shower stall for her.
She grabbed a towel, then wrapped it around her body and shook her head. God. What if Adam had walked in on them? She never brought men home, wanting to protect her son unless she really thought someone worthy of meeting Adam. The night had started differently, and she never really counted Stefano as a date. She opened the linen closet and retrieved a fresh towel, and threw it at him. “It’s better if you leave.”
He opened the towel and dried himself quickly. “I can wait for you. Take your time. I’ll be here.”
“No,” she said, raising her voice. “Listen, sometimes he likes to sleep with me at night,” she lied. “It’s… better if you just go. Your hair should be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
She bit her inner cheek, and wished she could take back the words and actions from the few last minutes. What was she supposed to say? Having sex with Stefano would only cloud her judgment—especially before she tested that machine he wanted her to. She’d keep things professional unless she had to use their past relationship to save her job. “Of course.”
***
“Did you hear?” Carrie whispered. “Armando got the boot,” she continued, leaning closer to make sure no one heard them. “Rumor has it he’s the first one of a long list. Everyone is scared. I’ve updated my resume just in case.”
Roxie fixed the collar of her shirt and faced her friend. “Are you sure?” she asked, fear clinging to her like a piece of chewed gum to hair.
“Yeah. I saw him walking out.”
“Is Mr. Luther in?”
“No, but the hot new boss is. You know the one who asked for your address and you still refuse to give me the dirt on.” Carried nudged her elbow, her tone playful. Roxie decided not to fuel her friend’s suspicious by giving her more information. “He’s taken the office in the corner. Mr. Mercado was the one who kicked his ass.”
Anger filled her heart. Why did he waste his time saying he wanted her to help the company shift into a new vision if he didn’t mean it? Mr. Luther cared about the company. How come he just gave it away to someone who didn’t give two shits about the employees? And why was she so surprised—when she should have known Stefano was in it for profit. Her heart thumped in her ears, and she touched her throbbing temples. “I gotta do something. I’ll be right back.”
Carrie drummed her long red nails at her waist. “Where are you going? We have a PR event soon.”
“I’ll be quick,” she said under her breath, walking toward the main offices. Who did he think he was? He could be a millionaire, but he had broken their deal. Did he think because they almost slept together that he could go ahead and fire people without at least showing her his plan? She frowned, not bothering to hide her discontent when she walked toward his office.
His assistant was away from her desk, probably on a coffee break. Great. Roxie knocked on the door once, just for the sake of doing it. Before he said “come in,” she stormed into his office. Several boxes occupied the spacious area with a view of downtown Miami behind the floor-to-ceiling glass.
Stefano was reading something on the sleek Mac monitor, but raised his gaze to hers. “Hey,” he said casually.
His eyes gave nothing away, and she almost felt like punching him just for acting like nothing happened the night before. “You fired one of my guides without talking to me. I thought you weren’t letting people go until we came to an agreement.”
He swiveled on his chair, massaging his temple. “I didn’t know he had an affair with a co-worker.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Aren’t you a bit hypocritical? Last night you almost fucked me in my house.” Before she could think twice, the words flew from her mouth.
His chair came to a stop. “No. Because his co-worker has an angry husband who kept calling and threatening him. Did you know about it? We don’t need this kind of drama at work. It’s not profe
ssional, it’s not safe, and not productive,” he said, his voice steady.
“Oh.” She had a hard time keeping her shoulders squared. “I had no idea.”
He offered her a close-lipped smile. “You do now. We need to establish some boundaries. You can’t walk in here and try to bust me without even knowing the story. I won’t allow it.”
Shit. Her blood froze. The contours of his face hardened. He was dead serious and she had to admit that he had a point. If she told him Donny hadn’t pressed charges against him because he’d blackmailed her into dating him so he wouldn’t prosecute, maybe she’d get a sympathy vote instead of a trip to the human resources department. She could use that as Plan B. She clamped her lips shut. No. Manipulating him wouldn’t be right and it would also expose how weak she’d been. “Are you firing me?”
“No. We’re doing the trial run later today. Remember?”
She nodded.
He grabbed a stress ball from his table and clasped it, then surged to his feet. Instinctively, she stepped backward, needing a buffer zone. Badly. “How’s Adam?”
“He’s good.”
He passed the ball from one hand to the other. “Listen, about last night…”
She lifted her hand and gestured for him to stop talking. “Since you want to be professional at work, I doubt it would be appropriate to bring it up here.”
He smoothed his cobalt tie, his eyes narrowing at her. Probably impatient. She doubted any of the people he worked with talked to him with such audacity. She couldn’t help it, though. “Coming from someone who dropped the f-bomb just a few minutes ago.”
She produced a fake professional smile. “Well, you straightened me out.”
He plopped down on his chair, and let out a long sigh that stretched between them like a violin string. “Is not talking about it or not acting on it solving anything?”
“Probably not, but I guess if we don’t act on it there’s nothing to discuss.” No feelings would be hurt, and no explanations needed for her son when Stefano would disappear from their lives. The last thing she needed was to involve Adam in the middle of all this. This… non-relationship.
“Can you do it? Not act on it? Because just looking at you wearing this dreadful orange shirt, I feel like making love to you until you forget your own name,” he said, his words tearing down her walls.
Behave. She willed away the hot pulse in her sex. “And I’m supposed to come like a million times,” she said, giving herself a mental pat on the back for sounding so casual.
He opened his mouth, then paused. She thinned her lips, unsure if she should say something or just go.
“A million times is a start. Why is this a big deal? You didn’t complain last night,” he finally said.
Did she detect accusation in his tone? Or resentment? “Last night I relapsed. I usually don’t let anyone I’m dating anywhere near my son until I know such person will stick around.”
“How many have there been?”
She stepped forward. Why lie? “None. Because I can’t trust my taste in men, and Adam shouldn’t pay the price. What do you want? You want to have sex with me. Should I be overjoyed? Why? Because you’re rich and handsome and have a cock that needs its own towel? Then what? You leave. You go. Because unless you’ve changed a lot, and I can’t see it, that’s what you do. Am I wrong?”
Silence. He glanced at the floor, his jaw clenched.
She stretched to her full height, and a part of her wanted to be wrong.
At least, his voice cut through the room. “No,” he said, and the truth hurt more than she expected.
Chapter 6
You leave. You go. Because unless you’ve changed a lot and I can’t see it, that’s what you do. Roxie had thrown those accusations at him, and Stefano had had no option but agreeing. Could he argue with her? Ever since he’d been a teenager he learned his strategy in life was to overcome problems and move forward.
After the ranch, it’d been convenient to go to California for work, and his dot com company took off at the right time. Did he stick around? For a while. Thankfully, his meetings and businesses negotiations were the perfect excuse for him to travel most of the time—and own a few houses, but not a particular home.
Not a home like Roxie’s.
“Mr. Mercado?” the assistant’s voice came through in the intercom. “The test tour starts in half-an hour.”
“Excellent. Thanks, Carly.” Surging to his feet, he removed his suit jacket, placed it on his oversize chair, and undid his tie. They had arranged for a real group of tourists to go for a tour to test the new technology—free of charge, of course. The more casual he appeared and the more he could blend in, the better. He wanted to experience it firsthand to check how his software worked in real time.
He undid his top button, but then paused, and buttoned it up again. Shit. Why did he act like an insecure teenager about to go on a blind date? During his life, no woman, no matter how incredibly sexy or smart, intimidated him. No woman besides Roxie.
Not like he’d ever advertise the nugget of shame. The more he acted in control when next to Roxie, the better. Safer. It would stop him from entertaining silly ideas or thinking about decisions he’d made far too long before—like moving forward. That’s why he never visited John at the ranch, even though he thought about it. That’s why he never attempted to rebuild his relationship with his mother. Because weakness and vulnerability were luxuries he could no longer afford.
He found Roxie in the bus, sitting on one of the front seats, of course. A smile spread across his face when he noticed the empty seat next to her, and he plopped down. “Are you ready?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Make sure you take notes so we can discuss these things with the group later. What works and what needs tweaking.”
“What if the whole idea needs tweaking?”
“We’ll make an assessment.”
She glanced at the floor, then massaged her neck and turned to face him. “I’m sorry.”
He shot her a triumphant smile. “You’re already apologizing for telling me my idea sucked and the tour has not even begun. Great.”
She nudged his elbow, teasing, and for a moment it old times returned again. “No. I’m sorry I stormed in your office without knowing the whole story.”
“Forget it. It’s about to start.”
“Can’t wait.” She grabbed the handsets from the pouch in front of her, ripped the plastic surrounding them and placed them on her head. “These make the whole experience real personal and warm.”
He chuckled. “You can’t behave, can you? You apologized a second ago and you’re already throwing shade.”
She gave him a mischievous smile—it reminded him of their youth, and the walk back from school he anticipated every day. He tilted his head to study her better, and for a split second, he didn’t know if she was Foxie Roxie from his past, or the more determined but no less fierce Roxie Sullivan from present time.
“I can’t help it,” she said. “You bring it out of me.”
“Passion?” He tried to keep things light even though his gut clenched.
She raised a brow. “Bitchiness.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the driver asked everyone to take their seats. He reached for his headset, and a soothing GPS-type female voice greeted him. The small screen in front of him let him choose his language from several options, and also adjust the volume. It canceled outdoor noises too, so they could actually enjoy and emerge into the sightseeing.
He grabbed his tablet and started typing some notes. Really he should just keep track of everything and ignore the woman next to him. His pulse spiked, and he spared her a sideway glance, unable to resist.
Roxie kept writing on a notepad and, as the program continued, she frowned and shook her head. She also looked behind her shoulders several times, certainly to register the reaction of the tourists to the innovation. He followed her gaze, and found the group behind them paying attention w
ithout chattering. A few older passengers still fumbled with the headset, and Roxie caught it before he did, because she was getting off her seat to help them.
Of course the transition wouldn’t be super smooth. Most buses that had headsets only allowed people to hop on and off; the ones where the kind of personalized service someone like Roxie provided weren’t expected anyway.
She returned to her seat, and that delicious scent of jasmine and vanilla swirled around her. She had a winning smile forming on her lips, with an I-told-you-so expression on her face.
“Not a word,” he said, and she shrugged him off, but didn’t stop grinning.
***
Roxie scribbled more downfalls on the headset idea. The languages available through the equipment were certainly a clearer alternative to her using her hands and Googling expressions to make her point across.
Just admit it. It’s not such a terrible idea. Sure, it was far from flawless, but she knew Stefano had enough resources and determination to improve the technology to perfection.
“We’ve arrived,” he said, and she realized the bus had come to a stop, and most passengers had already departed.
She peered out the window, and blinked at the colorful murals and fruit stands she should have been used to by now. Little Havana. How many times had she actually taken people out of the bus and showed them the streets, told them the history, embellished with some of her own opinions and reactions?
“So this is it?” she asked when they reached the ground. “We just go on our own?”
“A lot of tourists like to experience new places on their own, without guiding.”
She glanced around them, mentally hoping the people in the bus would be like chickens with their heads cut off, but no. They read the pamphlets and strolled with ease on Calle Ocho.
“Are you okay? You seem distant,” Stefano said.
“Is it pitiful I feel I’m not needed? Like what I do doesn’t matter if this thing goes forward?” Sadness welled up inside her. She had always hated how technology had a way of replacing people and situations. Like her dead ex-husband hiding behind fantasy games when he could have made the fantasy come alive with her.