by Ava Lore
“I thought this was just an island fling or something,” I stammered. “I mean, yeah, we were going to see each other again when we got back, but...but that doesn’t mean—”
“Do you want to know what was going through my mind as I entered my uncle’s house for the first time in years?” His golden eyes slid half-closed, as though he were thinking of eating me, so I nodded.
“I was thinking, My Rosa was right. I was thinking you were right, that I needed to face the past and take my fate back into my own two hands. And when I found out that you were already there, I was ashamed, because I knew you had decided to help me do what I could not. You were stronger than me.”
Without warning his arms tightened around me, so hard I gasped. “And when I found that Yago was alone with you...”
A shudder went through his body.
“When I opened that door, I knew I had two choices. I could choose to believe that you had betrayed me in some way, that you had come to the house to trade your body for my freedom, or even that you had gone with the ones who could give you money. I couldn’t have blamed you for it. You need money. And it’s happened before, so it’s not out of the question that it could happen again.”
I stiffened in outrage and opened my mouth to blister his ears, but he laughed and put his calloused fingers against my lips, immediately derailing my train of thought. I fought not to suck them into my mouth.
“Not so fast, Rosa. I said I had two choices. The other choice was that I could choose to believe that you had come there only to do what was best for me.”
His hand left my mouth and went to my cheek, slowly stroking the soft skin there. I sighed and turned my face to his touch.
“And?” I said. “What made you choose the second option?”
“Love,” he said.
“I don’t understand.” My heart was hurting for some reason. Some terrible, wonderful reason.
“I realized I trusted you then. In that moment, I knew I trusted you. And I only trust people I love. So I love you.”
My vision went blurry as tears filled my eyes. “Manny...” I said.
He grinned. “You don’t have to feel the same way about me,” he said. “I know it’s a bit sudden, but give me some time to convince you that we could be—”
“I love you, too,” I blurted.
Manny shut his mouth and stared down at me in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes really.”
His lips quirked. “Because it doesn’t seem very Rosalitaesque to fall in love in the span of a week...”
I blinked away the hot tears threatening to spill over. “Like I said, I want to be more like you.” A stupid smile was spreading across my face, and I couldn’t hide it. Didn’t want to hide it.
He loves me. And I love him.
Manny frowned, then reached up and scratched his chin. “Are you sure you love me?” he asked. “Because I had some pretty good ideas for convincing you to love me back and it’d be a shame to waste them...”
I laughed, and when I did it felt as though I had stretched my arms upward, just to release a few cramped muscles, and had instead discovered that I had wings. “I suppose you could give a few of them a shot,” I said.
“All of them. I want to do all of them. They’re really good.”
I shook my head. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
He grinned down at me. “Why should I, when I know you want to say yes?”
“Fine! Fine. You can romance me sweetly,” I told him. “And it had better be good, now that you’ve talked it up.”
“Ha! Then it’s settled. I will woo the hell out of you when we get back to the mainland, and you will fall in love with me all over again.”
I laughed and cried and reached for him. “Plan on it, buddy,” I told him, and then he covered my lips with his, and we kissed in the light of the rising sun.
Epilogue
Three encores. That was how many the crowd demanded. By the time the band had congregated at the back exit of the amphitheater, I wouldn’t have bet on any of them being able to walk from the door to the van waiting for us. Each and every one of them looked exhausted, but happy.
Manny was leaning on me heavily, and seemed to be having brain problems. “That was the best performance,” he said. “Best ever.” As he blinked, his eyes closed and opened in slow motion.
“A great performance,” I agreed, propping him up. “So what now? Back to the house for drinks and sleep?”
Sonya, trying to fluff her ragged hair, laughed without humor. “Of course not. To the airport, for flying and irritating seatmates.”
“Hey,” Rebecca said, “I’m your seatmate.”
“And you’re irritating because you never let me have my lesbian way with you,” Sonya told her as the back doors opened. A thriving, crushing mob stood just beyond the barriers. Boobs swung for autographs, cell phones flashed, and security had spread their arms, barely keeping the slathering mob from flooding us. I sank into Manny’s side, never having seen this sort of thing before, but he leaned down and said in my ear: “Enjoy this. This is the first night you are a celebrity. It all goes downhill from here.”
“Celebrity?” I said with wonder. “I don’t even have an apartment.”
“What?” he said. “That’s silly. You have Rebecca’s place.”
It was hard to hear him over the roar of the crowd, but I gave him a stern look as I propped him up with my hip. “Rebecca’s place?” I said. “Why not your place?”
He drew back and gave me a look of vague affront.
“Because,” he said slowly as though he were speaking to a child, “I still have to woo you, remember? Can’t just move in at the start of wooing. Gotta ease into it. Move toothbrushes. Leave panties. That sort of thing.”
We reached the seething crowd and somehow Manny—and the rest of the band—seemed to find the strength to pull themselves up into vague respectability and began signing autographs.
As I watched Manny glad-hand the crowd the best way he could—with not a little misdirection—I felt a swell of pride in my chest.
That’s my man, I thought to myself. The best man there is. And he’s signing boobs. Very big boobs.
I waited for the rush of jealousy, especially at the size of said boobs—attached, barely, it seemed, to a girl so blonde she looked like an anime character—but to my surprise the jealousy didn’t come. Instead, all I felt was happiness.
Pure, unadulterated happiness.
I didn’t really know what the future would bring, but I knew Manny would be in it, and that was enough.
Manny stopped signing boobs and turned to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He leaned in and murmured in my ear: “Don’t worry, Rosalita, I’ll sign my name on your breasts with my tongue.”
A shot of pure desire poured through me and I turned to him and tried to think of a witty retort, but before I could a loud, harsh slap of noise rent the air, and the whole crowd seemed to shiver and duck in the sudden silence. Only Sonya, who stood proud and tall next to me, didn’t cower.
What was that? What was that? My mind was a frightened creature, racing around the inside of my skull, looking for a way out. It sounded like a gunshot, but it couldn’t be. What...what was that?
There was a ringing in my ears and then I heard Sonya speak. I looked to her to see a thunderous expression on her face.
“Hey!” she yelled. “Which one of you little shits just shot me?”
Shot.
My eyes transferred to her stomach, where a dark red stain was spreading across her
And then soundlessly, gracefully, she folded up and sank to the ground, a pool of blood already growing around her.
* * *
To be continued in Sonya’s story, Hard Rock Reprise!
Want to stay updated on my new releases? Sign up for my update list here!
Want teasers, news, and special offers? Sign up for my twice-a-month newsletter here!
About the
Author
Ava Lore was raised by okapis and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing
erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.
You can email Ava Lore at [email protected], follow her on twitter (@authoravalore) or visit her at authoravalore.com. She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans.
Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let her know!
Read more at Ava Lore’s site.