Wordlessly, he closes the door behind us, discards the helmets, setting them on the oak storage unit in the entrance. Still silent, he takes two more steps inside the dim hallway, my hand in his. Surprising me, he turns back with a start, takes a step toward me, grabs my face, and kisses me like he’s been starving for my taste. Once the shock of the past ten minutes evaporates, I reciprocate with no less need. My hands skim over his arms, the pulsating vein in his wide neck, till they reach up to thread through his hair. I tug on it, tilting my face to better absorb his fervent attack. Weak whimpers spill from my throat into our engaged mouths. A full-on moan leaves my lips when Sebastian pins me to the wall behind us, his pelvis firm on mine, his hands all over my body as if they can’t decide what to touch first. Thighs, waists, ribs, breasts, collarbone, cheek, neck.
“I should have never let you go,” his lips, warm and full, say to a spot below my jaw.
I let out a sigh of surrender. It’s the sound of my heated body’s admission of defeat to my brain. I press my flat hand to Sebastian’s chest, working to calm my frantic breath.
“God, you make my heart beat so wildly.”
“That’s the way it should always feel.” He takes my hand, the one held against his chest, and brings it to his lips.
“We really need to talk.” My words still breathy.
“Talk.” And his lips are back on my neck. “I can’t stop touching you.”
“Sebastian,” I say but don’t do much to stop his renewed touch. “Sebastian . . .”
I’m not sure how exactly, but I next find myself straddling his thighs while he is seated on the floor, his back against the wall. His hands curl around my ribs as his thumbs lightly graze the sides of my breasts.
“You were right not to make me stay,” I say, our eyes intently connected under the gentle evening glimmer coming from inside the apartment.
One of his hands trails down my belly and lower till it slides under my dress, making its way up to my panties. His fingers playing over the satin fabric.
“Dios, I missed everything about you,” Sebastian says as his fingers crawl under the fabric to caress over my heated skin. We don’t need further words between us to understand just how much our bodies beg to connect. I lift myself to allow him enough space to free himself from his jeans, and let him push my panties sideways, then he helps me glide over him. We hold our breaths as I slide down, taking him in as far as I can. I hold still for a beat, letting the liberating sensation of our connection reach every spot inside of me. A unified moan leaves our mouths as I slowly lift myself and even slower slide around him. We blink our eyes open into each other. His hand moves to tug the tie on my waist open while I work my fingers to unbutton his shirt.
“You’re too amazing to let go so easily. I was beating myself up for letting you go,” he says in a husky voice, peeling my dress off my shoulders, slowly rocking inside of me.
We keep moving gently against each other. I link my fingers with his and he brings our joined hands to rest on his thudding chest, where we are truly connected. He lifts his pelvis, pushing deeper into me, making my eyes roll back in my head.
I re-meet his stare. “I wanted you to ask me to stay so much.” I lift my thighs, hovering above him. “But I’m glad you didn’t. You were right. I needed to find where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do first.” I glide back to him, we gust out a joint, full of desire breath.
“What were you planning to do?” I ask. Knowing full well he understands my question. What was his plan for when he got to Boston?
Sebastian’s fingers untangle from mine and move to my waist. He holds me firmly, helping me better sway on top of him. “Throw you over my shoulder and bring you back.” He sends me a boyish grin. His knees buckle next as he thrusts harder. I moan throatily, slightly jerking up. My head drops back as I let the heated ache tidal from my spasm induced core to the rest of me.
“And . . . ?” I ask with my head still tipped back, eyes shut in pleasure.
“I don’t know, ask you to come back and maybe work for us.” His hands help me better elevate and sink back around his throbbing erection.
I twist my mouth in half a smile that says, “not the greatest idea.” When our stares meet again, we’re both smiling.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he says.
Our grins grow.
“I had to take the time to figure out what I had to do, and where I wanted to do it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was here. I was meaning to do that.”
His lips find my nipple and suck hard on it. I whimper as he tells my harden skin, “I understand, and I’m glad for you that you found what you wanted.”
“Oh, I found it.”
He moves to my other nipple. I close my eyes and increase my pace, riding him even more keenly. The dim hall fills with loud moans of our drunken, sensual pleasure. He tilts his head up, leaning in to find my lips. His mouth starts with feathery touches and hastily turns fervent. Gradually, his plunges hasten, matching my pace with sharper, forceful thrusts. We ease back and level our stares.
“I love you.” My heart is about to burst with just how much I do.
“I love you.” His lips crash into mine, our tongues taking on the trance rhythm our bodies had taken. My release finds me at the edge of oblivion; it’s so strong it leaves me shivering from ecstasy in Sebastian’s tight embrace.
Chapter 31
“Take Me to Church”
Hozier
4.5 months later
The first tunes of the sentimental “Wedding March” make me slow my hurried steps. I lift my eyes and am taken aback, for the first time tonight noticing the beauty and grandiosity of the old church. Though I’ve been here many times before, in each of my visits to Barcelona, especially recently during the rehearsals, it feels like I’m seeing it for the first time. Maybe it’s the gothic white candles dotting every available surface that sets a majestic ambiance, maybe it’s the evening sky echoing through the stained glass windows, or the ornate facades and intricate leaded glass. Maybe it’s the priest in a black clergy robe and white vestment waiting at the end of the aisle by the altar, maybe it’s the guests sitting in their dressy ensembles, or maybe it’s simply the actual occasion. Among the many guests, I look for a set of dark eyes that seem to be looking for me. When Sebastian smiles my way, looking dreamingly handsome in a tux, my eyes become watery. Our locked stare feels more like a physical connection. I bite on my cheek and hold my eyes open, looking upward, willing the moisture to dry. I can’t have mascara dripping over my cheeks, not now. I take a generous breath and beam at the twist in the music playing, a flamenco guitar woven around the rather calm beat, adding an exciting rhythm to the traditional melody.
My smile widens when I see Vivian and Dominique making their way toward me, both mirroring my contentment. Vivian in a floor-length strapless blazing red gown encircles her arm around my waist and squeezes me tight against her with the softest of grins. Dominique, ever dapper in a timeless, sophisticated black shift dress beams at me and stands by my other side. Our expressions soften and our eyes become shiny on cue as we turn our attention to the heavy, parted doors behind us.
Alma radiates a smile at the two little girls with glittery purple ribbons in their shiny curls that throw flowers out of the white basket at her feet. She is a stunning sight with her mocha skin shimmering against the snowdrift of lace hugging her curves, lingering behind her. A dress that has been in her family for over four generations, each bride in her turn adding her own personal touch. Alma’s was the delicate champagne lining to the splendor design of lace and tulle. I follow her with my gaze as she makes her way toward her husband-to-be who looks back at her in utter reverence. I chance a glimpse Sebastian’s way and I’m momentarily startled by the stare he has on me, by how similar it is to the one the groom has on his bride.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my friends who reward me with knowing smiles following my stare that ends on Sebastian.
“Promise to take me somewhere quiet for a glass of wine later?” I quietly ask, watching Alma’s eyes gloss as she listens to the priest as he asks her if she’ll take the man standing next to her to be her lawfully wedded husband.
“I do,” Sebastian whispers back. I crane my neck to look at him over my shoulder once more. He grins at me. “How about I promise to take you somewhere better later?”
“Deal. But it should be a quiet place. After tonight, I’m not sure I’ll be up for anything too energetic.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He holds me tighter against him. We stay like this till the groom is requested to kiss his bride. When the grand kiss seals the deal, my gaze trails to Stephy who’s standing alongside Embar in mauve bridesmaids gowns, matching perfectly except for the fact that Embar is grinning and Stephy is wiping tears with the back of her hands, donning the dreamiest expression. When she senses my stare on her, she shrugs with a timid grin. I blow her a kiss and return her smile.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, and rise to stand on the heels of my feet to reach Sebastian’s lips.
“Don’t work too hard,” he says to my mouth before we part. Me, to continue supervising the event, check on the staff, see that everyone is in sync with the agenda, and talk to my partners, and Sebastian to nurse a glass of wine at the bar.
Before we know it, the night is over and so is our first significant catering gig. I meet up with Vivian and Dominique in the makeshift kitchen, an extension to the huge tent the reception was held at.
“To many more.” Dominique raises a bubbling flute at us.
“Ojalá.” Vivian snatches Dominique’s glass and downs the greater part of the golden liquid in one swallow. “Salud!”
“Let’s go say good-bye to the bride,” I say.
Vivian, Dominique, Embar, Stephy, and I huddle around Alma, wishing her a perfect honeymoon between smooches and hugs, and one teary-eyed Stephy.
Talking to Vivian, I almost miss the bouquet Alma throws behind her back till it nearly crashes into my face. I send my hand up and give it a little sideways smack, sending it right into Stephy’s waiting hands. I wink at her and she nods with the hugest grin.
Vivian, Dominique, and I remain on the front lawn, discussing last tasks before we can all call it a night. My attention is drawn to Stephy, who’s standing a few steps away, goofily smirking at her phone. Her smirk expands as she rapidly, with much animation, types on the screen.
I leave my partners who are now deeply absorbed in a conversation about a potential client scheduled to meet with Dominique come Monday.
“Hey, what’s up with the secretive smile. A new boy?” I tease Stephy, reaching her.
“Flirtexting with Kai.” Rose hue tints her plump cheeks as soon as the last syllable leaves her glossed lips.
“My Kai?” I shoot in mild puzzlement.
She bites her smile, her own expression slightly muddled though she can’t decide what to think. “My Kai,” she chirps. Her smirk returns full-on when an incoming message chime comes from the device in her hand. I shake my head with a thin smile, making a mental note to investigate the matter further when either suspects are less engaged with “flirtexting.”
“Okay, so, you’re off for tonight,” Vivian declares upon my return.
“Oui. Go, go, go.” Dominique nods a few too many times, somewhat offensively, seeming way too eager to get rid of me.
“Wow, I feel welcomed,” I scoff. “What do you mean? There are still too many things to do.”
“Not for you.” Vivian grins at me and Dominique tips her chin, gesturing to somewhere behind me.
I turn around to Sebastian, who takes my hand in his. “Let’s go to that place I promised you earlier.”
I turn to my friends once more and wince. They both appear like they are about to shoo me away. “Are you sure?”
Dominique rolls her eyes. “Can you just let it go, woman?”
Sebastian snorts a laugh that Vivian joins.
“Okay, got it. I’m going.”
“How about that little rooftop bar near Passeig de Gràcia? The one that serves those amazing pimientos de padron?” I suggest as we make our way toward the main exit of the church.
“How about Paris?” Sebastian asks, and I freeze in my spot.
I blink at him and blink again. “Whoa? Paris?” I swallow over my confusion.
“Yeah.”
I turn to look over my shoulder toward the giggles coming from behind us. Vivian gives me a thumbs-up and Dominique sends me a gigantic smile. “Happy birthday,” they chorus.
“My birthday isn’t for a few more days,” I murmur, turning back to Sabastian.
He shrugs. “You once mentioned that you wanted to visit Paris with me. So yeah, see it as an early birthday present.”
I wish I could capture the smile he has on right now because it’s so adorable, so powerful, I can feel it permeating into my belly.
I jump at him and pepper him with kisses, making him release a staccato of chuckles. “What, like we’re leaving right now?”
He raises his eyebrows with a thin smile and nods.
Epilogue
“Pictures of You”
The Cure
I blink one eye open. I flicker the second and flutter them both a couple of times more, adjusting my vision to the softly lit room. A few bright morning rays of sun waft through the velvety, burgundy curtains, coloring the room in a subtle pale rose hue. My eyes encounter the wooden coffered ceiling, and I smile, feeling wholeheartedly blissful. I crane my neck, pressing my cheek into the pillow, and drink in the man lying next to me who’s steadily breathing, sound asleep. Sebastian is prone on the bed, his arms, toned and tanned, hugging the plump white pillows. His dark lashes caressing his sharp cheekbones. His full lips slightly parted, wordlessly chanting an incantation, luring me to taste them. The blanket is covering him up to his waist, allowing me a close view of his wide back and irresistible to touch mocha skin. A cluster of dark, silky hair is hiding his thick brow. I send my hand to brush it away gently. With feathery touches, I trace his lightly bristled cheek, taking a full of gratification, profound inhale.
“I love you,” I whisper. I haven’t used this sentence too often throughout my life, but whenever I did, I unreservedly meant it. And yet, I don’t think that these three little words have ever had such an ample meaning for me. Quietly, I climb out of bed, taking extra care to keep it silent. I slide into my dress that has been hanging on a textured, golden picture frame, since last night. Courtesy of a very late, urgent, borderline aggressive, gotta-try-every-surface-of-the-suite boisterous sex. I adjust the painting back in place and reach for my phone, tucking it into the front pocket of Sebastian blazer I shrugged around me.
It’s unclear what prompted me to wake up this early. But I don’t really mind, it’s worth it though because I get to see the city waking up and it’s a unique feat to experience. A couple of stores away from where our hotel is located, a passage from The Avenue des Champs-Élysées, commonly described as the world's most beautiful avenue, I come across a corner old boulangerie, a French equivalent to Carbs Paradise. I let the lady in the salmon pink suit and the sophisticated up do putter around, open her store for the day and take a seat to wait on a nearby bench. Perfect time to call Kai.
“Hey, aren’t you asleep?” I say as soon as he answers my call.
“Why are you calling if you thought I was asleep?”
“Because I can.” I smile at the brief chuckle coming from the other end, a sound that always makes my
lips twitch. The sound of Kai’s voice to me is like wearing an old snuggly tee. Whenever I hear it, I’m bathed with comfort. “What are you doing up so late?” It should be around one am in his time zone.
“Working. Airbrushing the shit out of these photos I took as a favor to a friend of my mom’s.”
“Momma’s pimpin’ you?”
He chuckles. “Don’t ask. A fucking bar mitzvah.”
I break out in laughter. I can just imagine Kai at such an event. I bet he passed the night with his camera in one hand and an ever filling glass of scotch in the other. I can’t see how he would have survived it any other way.
“And now you’re making them look nice?”
“Let’s just say nature isn’t always kind.”
“I love it when you’re so thoughtful.”
“Okay, we’re done with me. What are you up to?”
“I’m in Paris.” I swear my eyes just dreamingly closed on their own.
“No shit.”
“An early birthday present from Sebastian.”
“Dude’s good. I need to up my game.”
We both let out a light chuckle. It’s easier laughing it off now, after the extensive and stern conversation Kay and I had when I made the decision to stay in Spain. His offer to “consummate” our pact and the seriousness of my relationship with Sebastian were two of the main subjects we dissected. A conversation in which Kai apologized, once more, for the way he acted in Spain. For being selfish rather than considering the implications of our friendship.
“Speaking of games, what kind of game are you playing with Stephy?”
There’s a moment of silent. “We sort of hit it off whenever I visited you. We exchanged numbers and kept in touch. She is sweet, Liv.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Incredibly sweet.”
“Agree.”
“I think I’ll have to visit you again, soon.”
Leaving Me Behind Page 25