Sombra

by Leslie McAdam

  “Do you want to turn over?”

  She nods vigorously.

  “Want me to untie you?”

  “Yes.”

  I do, and she moves to all fours.

  Dios, that ass.

  “I need your cock in me. Or I need to suck it hard. One way or another, get in me, Tavo.”

  She scrambles up, takes the bottle of olive oil, and drips some on her hands. Then, back on all fours on the bed, while I stand on the ground facing her, she props herself up with one hand and sucks my dick and jacks it with the other. She puts my balls in her mouth, and I bite back a curse. But then she starts rubbing me with the oil on her hands as lube, and I can’t keep back. Especially when she has her mouth on my piercing.

  “Am I in charge?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  “You will submit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t come until I say.”

  I smile. This. I love this. This is what I want.

  And oh, what sweet torture. What deliciousness. She slides up and down my hard, thick cock, jacking me, licking me, licking the oil, massaging my balls, snaking her hand up behind me and pressing into my ass.

  God, I love this woman.

  “I love you, Kim.”

  “I love you, but don’t bother me. My mouth is busy.” She goes back to blowing me, and I laugh with the gorgeousness of it all.

  When I’m about to come, she stops.

  Of course.

  I’d do the same to her.

  She pulls away completely, steps off the bed, a nude Venus, and pulls a new vibrator out of a drawer.

  “Don’t touch yourself,” she orders. “Watch me.”

  Getting back on the bed, she throws her head back over the pillow and parts her legs, fucking herself with that vibrator.

  This is pretty much my wet dream. I stay at the side of the bed, my dick a pole, watching her, not touching myself or anything.

  Her eyes get glassy and close. She positions and repositions the toy so it’s on her clit. It circles, finding the right spots and making her groan.

  “Do you like watching, Tavo?”

  My hard-on hurts so much. “Absolutely.”

  “Do you want to fuck me?”

  “That and make love to you.”

  “Do both, please.”

  She gets back on her hands and knees holding the vibrator to her clit, and before she’s barely positioned, I climb up on the bed, enter her completely, and slap her ass.

  She yips.

  “Silencio.”

  “No, amor,” she says. “I’m in charge. You fuck me.”

  I bite my knuckle to keep from smiling. “Yes, mistress.”

  Her face turns toward me. “Mistress?”

  I grin, and she giggles. Then both of us straighten our faces.

  “I need your finger, Tavo.”

  She widens her stance so she’s holding the vibrator against her clit, propped between the mattress and her body. I pull out, put my finger in oil, and enter her again. As I thrust in rhythm, I slide my hand between her ass, opening it up, and pressing my finger in.

  Holy fuck this is hot.

  “All three,” she says. “Fuck me in all the places.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  I move in harmony with her. I make her feel. I’m holding back, because she got me there before. So I’m clenched up, clenching my eyes, my ass, my muscles, trying to get her to come but not hurry it. Allow it.

  “This is incredible,” she gasps. “This feels so good.”

  I can see her shaking. Her mouth open. She’s panting. She’s … she’s … she tilts her head back and roars out an orgasm, her body sucking me up her fingers splayed on the bedspread. She’s quaking from the core where we connect to her head and toes. Her ass loves my finger, her pussy my dick. And that vibrator?

  Joder.

  The earthquake of her body triggers me, so I let go too, pumping into her, feeling the deliciousness of complete orgasmic release.

  Fuck. Yes.

  We both breathe hard for a while. Once our bodies come down, I pull out and we settle on the bed. I wrap her in my arms. We’re so messy, so full of our love, but I don’t care. We’ll clean up later.

  Right now, all I want to do is hold her. And feel her for myself.

  After we take a shower and lie naked in bed, I cuddle up behind her, playing with her belly as she strokes my arms up and down.

  “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to tell me no. I want you to know that I’m going to ask you to marry me someday, Kim. If you wanted to marry me now because of the baby, I’d do it in a heartbeat, because I know you’re the one for me.”

  “But no.” She smiles.

  “Right. No hasty marriages. No marriages that you’re not ready for. That said, the very second you want to get married, we will.”

  She rolls over and turns to me. “First, I think it’s the most romantic thing for you to ask me not to marry you. Because you’re considering my feelings and our history.”

  “Right, amor.”

  “But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m gonna say yes. Our bonds are stronger than marriage. Our love is at the deepest level. And I want to show the world who I really am. Who we really are. I love you.”

  My heart leaps, and I squeeze her so tight. She’s mine forever.

  A week after we bring Sebastian de la Guerra home from the hospital

  * * *

  My baby boy is tinier than I thought he’d be. More precious. Someone else for me to protect.

  I can hold Sebastian over one forearm, my hand supporting his head and his legs on either side of my elbow, although most of the time he’s up on my chest where he nestles up by my neck. The nurse taught me how to hold him, how to support his neck, but he’s so small in my arms. A bundle of light, summer blankets and new, warm, skin. His mop of dark hair comes from me, but his light eyes match his mother’s.

  He’s a sturdy sack of flour with arms and legs that kick out spasmodically. They’re the same joyous kicks I felt under my palm for the past few months. The first flutter of his kicks made Kim’s eyes widen in realization and both of our hearts soar.

  Was it only a week ago that he was inside her?

  This morning, Kim’s completely sacked out in our bed. Drool drips down the corner of her mouth. He didn’t ever let her sleep well while he was in her ever-rounding belly. While I did my best to ease her discomfort, much of the time I was helpless to sooth her tears from exhaustion, aches, and hormonal changes. Panicking if we were doing the right thing. And those tears of happy anticipation, of wanting so badly to gaze upon this little human we created. Now that he’s out, his cry is soft, but even that quiet mewl induces us to mobilize immediately.

  What is it, son? Hungry? Diaper change? Too hot? Too cold? Sleepy?

  I already know that most of the time, I haven’t got a clue what he’s asking for, so I try each balm in turn. Even though I only met him a few days ago, I know there’ll be a point where he’ll fuss too much for me to handle. For now though, as she sleeps, I can hold him off for a while longer. My little conejo needs as much rest as she can get.

  “Cálmate, mijo,” I croon, and begin to sing every lullaby I know.

  I pace in our casita, cradling him in my arms and gently rocking him, hoping my voice will put him back to sleep.

  While I sing, his cries turn to whimpers, and his whimpers turn to coos. With a sigh and a yawn, he snuggles into me, and I grin against his little head.

  Turning around, I see that Kim’s opened her eyes and is watching me.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” I whisper. “You sleep now, amor.”

  She shakes her head into the pillow, and her blinking slows down. Then she closes her eyes to savor the moment. When she talks, her voice cracks with emotion. “If I went back to sleep, I’d miss this.”

  Smiling at her, I go back to singing to our son.

  I know in my hea
rt that our adventure has only begun.

  Epilogue - A wedding

  “‘Bout time you got here,” calls a tall, dark-eyed cowboy wearing Wrangler jeans and boots, approaching us.

  He’s awfully good-looking, but nothing compared to my Tavo.

  Tavo and I pulled up to the parking area of a ranch in California, north of Santa Barbara. Ever since we rented a car at the airport, we’ve been driving with open windows along the deep blue Pacific Ocean and rolling hills dotted with oak trees.

  Smells I’ve never known before. Salty. Sagey. Maybe dusty. And warm and dry.

  Once we got to Headlands Ranch, we stopped the car and got out, but were immediately met by a group of people.

  “This is my cousin, Will Thrash,” says Tavo.

  “Kim de la Guerra,” I say, shaking his hand. Will’s got a baseball cap over curly dark-hair and a baby on his hip. A tattoo peeks out under his T-shirt.

  I’ve got a tattoo, too. On my ankle.

  “Nice to meet you,” Will says with a drawl, and gives Tavo a bro hug, slapping each other on the back.

  Marie, his wife, comes running out. She’s tall and slender, with pink hair.

  Like mine.

  “So nice to meet you,” she says, holding out her hand and shaking mine. “Look! We’re hair twins!” She picks up a lock of her hair and wiggles it. Then she peers over my shoulder. “Can I meet Sebastian?”

  “Absolutely.”

  While she’s waiting for me to get our son, she gives Tavo a big hug. I pull our one-year-old out of his car seat, and two vans with more of Tavo’s family come up the dusty drive.

  “Good excuse to have a family reunion,” a tall, older cowboy says, pushing Margarita up in her wheelchair. She’s as elegant as María Luisa—Tavo’s mom and her sister. He holds out his hand to me. “Bill Thrash. I’m Will’s dad and Tavo’s uncle.”

  Meanwhile, Marie has latched onto Sebastian, who’s waving his hands in the air and all awake. He slept the entire ride up, so now he’s raring to go.

  I shake Mr. Thrash’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kim, Tavo’s wife.”

  Margarita wheels over to Marie and holds out her hands in a gimme motion. “Let me see my grand nephew.”

  “I’m not letting this cutie go,” says Marie, holding Sebastian closer. He tugs on her hair. Marie eventually relents and hands Margarita our son. Margarita gives him a big hug, and he looks at her and drools.

  As family spill out of the two vans, I catch snippets of conversations. It’s a jumble of words and noise.

  “Are you serious? You have an album now?” Marie squeals. “I’m buying a copy for all of my friends!”

  Tavo rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah. It’s catching on. And those YouTube videos are really starting to get some views.”

  “How close are we to the beach?” asks Antonio. He’s bigger now, with more muscles. Even though he spends a lot of time working on farm finances, he still gets in plenty of physical labor.

  He’s also got a boyfriend.

  “My son Tavo is famous,” says María Luisa, then leans over and gives her sister two kisses on the cheeks. “He has brought the de la Guerra name to millions.”

  “Not yet, Madre,” says Tavo. “That’s not true.”

  “I’m managing his audio equipment on tour,” says Antonio.

  Mari Carmen pulls me aside. “So good to see you! How did the pop-up restaurant go in Portland?”

  Guillermo pulls out his phone. “Listen.”

  “It was amazing. We did the cuisine of the different regions of Spain. Putting that education to good use.”

  “¡Que bien!”

  Marie listens for a moment and asks, “So where can I buy it?”

  “Everywhere. They even have the vinyl in Target in a special edition.”

  Another two cars pull up. The first is a red Subaru, and the curly dark hair of my best friend Maggie pops out as soon as the door opens.

  “Kim!” She comes running toward me and gives me a tackle hug that I take with an “oof.” A tall light-haired cutie with a ton of tats gets out of the driver’s seat. “Come meet Court!”

  “Where are we going to have the ceremony?” I ask.

  “By the barn. We’ll have the reception outside under the stars,” says Marie. “There’s plenty of room in the bunk house for everyone, and Cookie will be serving plenty of tri-tip for us all.”

  “Not you,” says Will.

  She grins. “I get portobella mushrooms.”

  Sonia steps out of a van biting her finger and holding Guillermo’s hand. Thankfully, a year of hard labor taught her some humility, and she’s been working with Guillermo on the farm ever since.

  She still has millions of Instagram followers, though, so her first instinct is to get Guillermo to take a picture of her on a gorgeous farm in California. I roll my eyes.

  Tavo comes over and puts his arm around my shoulders. “How are you doing, guapa?”

  “Never better,” I say. As I stand, surrounded by family and friends on this ranch, holding the hand of my husband and letting everyone meet the next generation of de la Guerras, I know this is where I’m supposed to be.

  “Dearly beloved,” Will says, wearing a black cowboy hat and a bolero tie. “We are gathered here to join in matrimony Shane Nichols and Randy Sanchez.”

  Randy’s spiky black hair is slicked back. Shane’s got his precise haircut, same as always. They’re both in tuxedos. Once they heard that Tavo’s cousin had a ranch by the beach, they decided they wanted a destination wedding. But their wedding has turned into an excuse for a family reunion of Tavo’s family, so while we are a majority of the people here, almost all of the grooms’ families made it too. Over the past year, Shane and Randy have come visited us in Spain several times, to mend relations and actually see Spain. They ended up making a lot of friends in the family and were eager for all of us to come.

  I bounce Sebastian on my lap. My sandals show off my dragonfly tattoo that Tavo designed. I lean over and give Tavo a kiss. And settle in to watch the ceremony.

  When we drove here, I asked Tavo if he thought that Shane and Randy would have admitted their feelings for each other if I hadn’t gone to Spain.

  He rubbed his jaw and turned the radio down. Our baby slept in the seat behind us. “Amor, you came to España facing the sun like a flower, but pretending you didn’t cast a shadow. A sombra.”

  “Yes—”

  “These amigos of ours did too. They had a sombra. Everyone does. But they had spent their time pretending their shadow did not exist.”

  “True—”

  “If you face the sun, though, you will always have a shadow. That’s the way it works. We all cast shadows behind us. Better to take a look and see what’s in there than to be scared of it.”

  I inhale. “That’s the way to be a whole person.”

  “Exactamente.” He gives me a crooked smile, and I fall for him over again.

  “I needed both dark and light. Not just one or the other.”

  “Correcto. We all do.” He places his hand on my knee and squeezes. “So with our friends, I am not sure if they would have faced their shadow and learned to love this side of themselves without a push. I do not know them as well as you do. Many people never look there, and as a result they remain miserable.”

  I allow my hand to go out of the car, riding on the waves of the warm air. “Right. Dani told me, ‘what we resist persists.’”

  He chuckles. “Trent is right. She is a hippie girl. But yes, with Shane and Randy, if they’d never looked at their other side, they would not have found their love for each other, and they would not have been living as their true selves. Like us. Our love blossoms in the dark.” He pauses. “To answer your question, I don’t know, but I am glad you came to Spain, for everyone’s sake.”

  And as I watch Shane and Randy exchange their vows with love in their eyes, I can’t help thinking that we all deserve love after all.

  Acknowledgments />
  I lived in Granada, Spain, for about a year during college, and I am grateful to the people of Spain for providing me with a muse for Sombra.

  I texted Mary Carr just about every day for months while writing this book. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, every writer needs a Mary. Someone who believes in you, but isn’t afraid to say when the book isn’t working. Who feels her way through a story to make sure that the emotions are there. Who loves you unconditionally (and I love her back unconditionally). And who gives you dragonfly earrings and makes you cry. So many lines and scenes were suggested by Mary. I thank you, darlin’, for being the bumpers in my bowling alley and keeping me from a gutterball.

  Kristy Lin Billuni patiently read and reread the early chapters, helping me to hone character motivations, develop themes, and make sure this writing worked on several levels. I love you, sexy lady, and am so appreciative of your encouragement.

  Heather Roberts is my gal Friday, and I’m so grateful for edits, feedback, graphics, PR, and oh, everything. Thank you, spirit animal.

  Deb Markanton went above and beyond. When I sent her a portion of the book and asked her to read for content, she sent me 176 line edits. She was right, of course. Thank you, thank you.

  Phala Theng and Julia Heudorf provided thoughtful and meaningful feedback that made it better. I love you guys.

  Katy Cuthbertson read and reread and reread and found so many typos. If any remain, they’re all my fault (I usually write in the dark, that’s my excuse), but I’m so grateful for all of your cleanup work, as well as your encouraging words.

  A.R. Hadley had insights that really helped tighten language and make Sombra cleaner. I’m so grateful.

  Thia Finn and Stacey Read were early readers who provided much-needed encouragement and feedback. Tackle hugs.

  Lex Martin kicked my ass. I needed it. Thank you, Chewbacca. I’ll send cookies.

  Jerica MacMillan worked her ass off to do a final read-through. I am so grateful to you.

  Daniella Mazuelos checked my Spanish. Gracias, amiga. All errors are mine.