El Diablo (The Devil): The Good Ol' Boys Spin Off

by M. Robinson

I couldn’t not fucking kiss her.

  Pulling back, nodding toward Rick. He popped open the trunk of the limo, bringing me what I needed, to end this once and for all. I stood, bringing her with me, grabbing her crutches, securing them under her arms. I kissed her one last time, looking deep into her eyes. Finally, seeing a glimpse of the man she always knew lived inside of me.

  Rick handed me what I needed, and I released her. Walking back toward the beaten house. She stood there with wide eyes, her mouth dropped open with the realization of what I was about to do. She watched as I laced the entire house with gasoline. Throwing the red can at it before peering back over at her. I flipped open the lighter.

  “I can chase away your demons, but they’ll never stop chasing you. Do you want to do this?”

  She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before walking toward me on her crutches. She consciously peered from the house back to the lighter I held in my grasp. Contemplating the dark ghosts of her past and the brightness of her future. With a shaking hand, she reached out, taking the lighter, stating, “Thank you.”

  I nodded, as she flicked the lighter, igniting the stream of gasoline that lead to her porch. Watching the flames engulf the rundown shithole of her childhood.

  Sending her past to burn in Hell.

  The night we flew back from Rhode Island six months ago, he carried me into his bedroom, and I went willingly. He set me down on his cool, silk sheets, propped my feet up, handing me my medication. Knowing I needed to dull my pain in more ways than one. He was so gentle, so caring and compassionate.

  I spent the rest of the night in his arms content, at peace, happy for the first time since I could remember.

  “Get some rest, cariño. You’re safe, I’m here,” he whispered into my hair.

  I shook my head, nuzzling deeper into his chest. Unable to be close enough. Emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted, I fell asleep sometime before dawn. His soft touch skimming my back pulled me under, soothing me. I startled awake, searching for him, finding myself alone. For some reason I didn’t panic, I didn’t have to. I felt him there with me even though I was alone in his room. His side of the bed was still warm, causing a smile to tug at my lips. He came in minutes after I woke up with a tray full of every kind of food known to man.

  “Why are you smiling, cariño?” A grin spread across his handsome face. Knowing damn well why.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I smiled again, sitting up.

  He chuckled. “I see you haven’t lost that saucy little mouth.”

  We ate breakfast in his bed together, not bringing up the events of the previous day. Spending the entire Sunday there, talking about nothing important but it still seemed like everything. We ended up spending every Sunday this way. Sometimes we would watch a movie. Sometimes he would let me watch reality TV, while he worked on his laptop in bed. It didn’t matter what we were doing as long as it was together. Falling asleep in his arms every night, only to wake alone every morning. I was convinced the man never slept.

  I headed to my room to get dressed like I did every morning, ready to start my day a few weeks after we got back. I opened my closet only to find empty hangers, walking over to my armoire next, opening each drawer, nothing. My bathroom was even empty. I stormed down the hall to his office, barging in without knocking.

  He wasn’t fazed, like he was expecting me.

  “What the hell, Martinez? Where did all my stuff go?” I asked, cocking my hip to the side, hands placed on my waist.

  “Good morning to you to, Lexi.” He grinned.

  “That smile is not going to work on me, buddy. Answer my question.”

  “They are where they belong, cariño. Where you belong, in my bedroom. In my life.”

  I hadn’t left his room since.

  It had been over a year since he brought me back to live with him, seeing a different side to the man I still loved with all my heart. He’d bring me breakfast in bed almost every morning, and was home to eat dinner with me every night. Spending more and more of our time together, making up for our time apart. He took me all over New York City, shopping, visiting art galleries, and going to fancy restaurants I’d never frequented before. We did almost everything together.

  He kissed me, touched me, and held me without reservations. Out in public and behind closed doors, whenever the mood struck him, he would just act on it.

  We behaved as a couple.

  Him and I.

  The cold, dark, soulless eyes replaced with a serene, calm, tantalizing gaze. I found myself thinking about him all the time. I wholeheartedly believed him when he said there were days he thought about ending it all. Sometimes I would watch him from afar, and I could see his struggle. His decisions were not without regard any more. See, my demons were laid to rest in the fire. His… were alive and thriving all around him every day. But at the same time, it was a new beginning for us. Starting a new chapter of our lives, together. I often wondered if they would ever truly go away. Quickly realizing that El Diablo would always be a part of him, it’s who he was. Call me crazy, but I loved that man just as much. Every side of him consumed me. Every part of him engulfed me.

  He was mine.

  No matter what.

  Life was finally looking up after years and years of heartbreak and disappointment. He had been there for everything, taking care of me, supporting me, making me feel wanted for the first time ever, with him. He held my hand through the countless surgeries for my leg, and attended my physical therapy sessions with me. Motivating me to keep going, when my body wanted to give up. I just teased him saying he liked the view when I stretched. I always made sure I wore tight leggings that hugged my ass just right.

  Martinez even recruited one of the top orthopedic surgeons on the East Coast to take my case. I could finally walk on my own without any pain. Even had been given the okay to begin dancing again. All my injuries had subsided but I had yet to put on my ballet flats since the accident. After months of avoiding the corridor that housed my dance studio, I finally got up the nerve to go see if it was still there one morning. Closing my eyes, I slowly walked in, only opening them to find the room just like I’d left it. I hurried into his office, tackling him in his chair.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Kissing him all over his face. Able to finally say thank you. Just like I wanted to the first time I found it.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure, cariño?” He stroked my cheek, a grin playing on his lips.

  “You kept it. After all these years, you kept my studio, my sanitary. Why?”

  “I wanted to keep apart of you here, hoping you’d find your way home again. And here you are.” He kissed my forehead, wiping away the tears I didn’t realize were falling.

  “Thank you. I can’t even begin to tell you what this means to me.”

  “Show me,” he groaned.

  “Look who’s decided to wake up,” he taunted, pulling me away from my thoughts as he walked into our room.

  I rolled over, sitting up. Bringing the silk sheet with me, covering my bare breasts. Martinez made up an elaborate story why my pajamas never made it to his room. Saying he had no idea why they weren’t transferred, and he would take care of the man in charge. I wasn’t stupid, I knew he’d thrown them out. I had yet to replace them, becoming comfortable enough to be naked around him.

  Even though we were closer than ever, we hadn’t been intimate. I mean, he gave me mind-blowing orgasms all the time, but he never allowed me to touch him. Knowing that was all it would take for him to lose control. I think a part of him was still closed off when it came to us having sex. Scared he wouldn’t be able to take me how I yearned for. Having a repeat of what happened years ago. I knew he would never do that to me again. He barely survived it the first time.

  I didn’t push it.

  I didn’t have to.

  For once, his words spoke louder than his actions.

  “You need to get dressed,” he ordered, tugging my foot toward him at the si
de of the bed.

  I squealed, laughing. “You want clothes on me? That’s new.”

  He leaned forward, hovering above me. Caging me in with his strong, defined arms. “You just like being at my mercy.” He breathed against my lips, causing shivers down my body. “Now, get dressed.” He snapped down his teeth, backing away, much to my disappointment.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, not getting up, watching how he moved around his room.

  The way his back flexed, the way his black slacks hugged all the right places, how tall he fucking was. His whole backside was delicious. I shook off the image before it got me in trouble, and we’d never leave the penthouse.

  “If I wanted you to know, I would have told you. I’m not going to tell you again. Get dressed.”

  See… still an asshole.

  The limo was waiting for us, along with the usual bodyguards. It didn’t take long to get where he was taking me. We pulled up to a brick building not far from his penthouse in the center of Manhattan. His men got out first and did a sweep around the property before I was permitted to get out. Some things never changed. He took my hand, helping me out of the limo, leading me up a set of stairs toward the back entrance. He unlocked the frosted, glass door, leaving the light off as I entered behind him.

  “Alejandro, why are we—” He flicked on the light, rendering me silent.

  I watched as she made her way around the immense, open space. I stood off to the side with my hands in the pockets of my slacks, giving her a moment to take in all the things around her. Grinning as I watched how her eyes danced around the room. Not knowing where to look first. The glazed look in her eyes was all the thank you I needed.

  “Is this—”

  “It’s yours,” I simply stated, snapping her attention to me.

  My voice echoed from where I stood. A smile spread across her face as she tried to keep her tears at bay. I grabbed the documents off the front counter, stepping from the tile onto the hardwood floors, toward her. Without saying another word, I handed her the deed to the building. She took the papers in her shaking hands, looking at what it was. Blinking rapidly, trying to focus on the big letters that read her name on the front.

  “Oh my God,” she rasped, placing her hand over her mouth as she went through the document.

  “Just because you can’t dance professionally anymore, Lexi. Doesn’t mean you can’t teach it and continue to do what you love, sweetheart.”

  She peered up at me, wide eyed, her mouth opening and shutting. Shaking her head in disbelief.

  “This is too much—” I placed my index finger against her lips, silencing her.

  “I bought this studio for you. You have everything you need, as you can see, to start your own company. The building is yours, Lexi. My name isn’t attached to it in any way. Free and clear. No matter what happens… it’s yours.”

  Her eyes blurred with more tears, stunned and overwhelmed by my gift to her. I caressed the side of her cheek with the back of my fingers, trying to soothe her emotions. She leaned into my touch, closing her eyes for a second. Telling me what her words couldn’t.

  “How am I ever going to thank you for everything you have done for me?”

  “Dance for me.”

  She jerked back, opening her eyes. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I can’t—”

  “You can. And you will.” I pulled away, taking her hand and walking toward the back of the studio. Stopping in front of the door that read, “Cariño,” in elegant handwriting on a silver plaque. She beamed up at me as I opened the door, revealing a private dressing room stocked with everything a ballerina could ever want. She stepped in slowly, turning in a full circle, in awe of the space. Running her hands along the armoire that held every piece of designer dancewear, nothing but the best for her. Grabbing her dance bag I’d replaced from the accident, I handed it to her.

  “It has everything you need.” I kissed her soft, supple lips. “Go.” Spanking her ass. “Now.”

  I walked away, getting the controller to the sound system. She still hadn’t fucking moved as if her feet were stuck to the floor beneath her.

  “I don’t like to be kept waiting, cariño.”

  She took a deep, reassuring breath, placing one foot in front of the other as if she was telling herself to do so. Making my way out to the studio, I pulled up a chair. I sat down, leaning forward, placing my elbows on my legs with my hands clasped in front of me. Waiting for her to emerge minutes later.

  She took my goddamn breath away. She was dressed in a light pink, low cut leotard that accentuated her breasts. Her hard nipples poking through the skintight fabric while her luscious ass peeked out the bottom. Foregoing the bra and tights, wearing leg warmers instead.

  My cock fucking twitched at the sight of her.

  She stretched for a while on the barre as I watched the way her body bent, curved, and twisted in all directions like she hadn’t been away at all. Her leotard riding up, exposing more of her bare skin. I didn’t give her time to contemplate her next thought, hitting play on the controller. She laughed to herself, peering at me through the mirror when the melody registered in her head.

  Our eyes locked.

  The song she played in my office the first time she came to see me, the very same song she danced to the day I went looking for her in Europe, blared through the speakers. In a way, we’d come full circle. No words needed to be spoken between us, to have the same exact thought.

  She walked over to the barre, flawlessly extending her right leg out to the side, gently placing her ankle on the polished wood. Reaching her left arm up in the air and bringing her torso down to her knee, holding the stretch. Repeating the same movement with her left leg. Never breaking eye contact with me through the mirror. She held onto the barre with her left hand, grabbing her ankle with her right, effortlessly pulling it toward her chest as her leg extended forward. Perfectly standing on one leg. She had the longest, goddamn legs I’d ever seen.

  After stretching, she started to dance for me. Her body twirled, her arms soared, and her feet glided in all directions of the room within seconds. From one end to the other, there wasn’t a spot on the wooden floor her ballet flats didn’t touch. She was so in sync with the music, the dancing, the heart and soul of her entire life. Forgetting I was watching her, getting lost in her element, pushing herself further and further. If you hadn’t known about her accident, you’d think she never stopped dancing.

  The song was nearly over when she stumbled, but faultlessly recovered, taking ahold of her ankle behind her, stretching her knee and thigh muscles. Working out the kinks that built up over the last year. I could see the sheer disappointment passing through her eyes, as much as she tried to hide it by continuing her steps. Frustrated that her leg had already given out on her.

  I paused the song that I had on repeat.

  “Go stretch again, cariño,” I ordered in a dominant tone. Nodding to the barre.

  “I’m fine,” she stubbornly replied. Shaking her legs and arms out. Getting back into position, looking at me through the mirror.

  I cocked my head to the side, arching an eyebrow. She narrowed her eyes at me, but begrudgingly listened. I pressed play, allowing the melody to once again take over. She placed her leg on the lowest barre, making her ass stick out in my direction.

  Tempting me.

  She closed her eyes, needing to get lost in the music, wanting to push away all the negative thoughts, already feeling discouraged. I stood, taking off my suit jacket. Rolling up the sleeves of my collared shirt as I stepped onto the hardwood floor. I slowly came up behind her, catching her off guard.

  She froze, turning around, opening her eyes. Peering up at me through her lashes. “What are you doing?”

  I leaned forward against her ear, grinning. “I’m helping you stretch.” Getting down on my knees in front of her.

  Her eyes dilated. The feeling of disappointment replaced with nothing but lust. She placed her
arms out to the side, resting up against the barre, supporting her weight. I grabbed her ankle, lifting it up in the air, rubbing along her leg as it was fully stretched, before setting it on the lowest barre. Running my other hand up her side, easing her over toward the extended leg. She understood what I was doing, reaching for her ankle, stretching. Standing back up, bringing her arms above her head, I caressed along her leg again, casually turning her torso so her leg was still placed on the barre behind her. Making sure I rubbed along her pussy as I pressed against her back. Leaning her forward, stretching down to her standing ankle.

  Her breathing hitched as I touched her all over her lower body. Her ass, her legs, but especially her pussy. She came back upright, holding the barre for support again, her leg still behind her. My lips softly kissing the inside of her thigh to where she wanted my mouth the most. Sliding over her leotard, I licked from her opening to her clit. Sucking her nub into my mouth, one hand holding her in place, the other pushing into her warm, wet fucking heat.

  “Oh God,” she panted, lust-filled eyes staring down at me while I stared up at her.

  I was finger-fucking her pussy while she was riding my goddamn face. She sucked in her lower lip, her head wanted to fall back, but I wouldn’t allow it. I pulled the front of her leotard, holding her firmly in place so I could watch her face come apart. She climaxed within minutes, shaking, trembling, and screaming out my name. It never took her very long to come when I was on my knees in front of her.

  Lexi loved to watch.

  I stood, bringing her leg down, devouring her mouth. Loving how her body responded from every single touch of my hands. Melting into me, rising up on the tips of her toes, moaning when she tasted her salty, sweetness off my lips and tongue. I pulled away first, and she whimpered at the loss, thinking this was the end of our intimate time together.

  Unaware that it was only the beginning. I was far from fucking done.

  I grasped her wrists, placing them high above her head. Stepping back, I made her twirl in circles for me like the ballerina in a jewelry music box. Wanting to hear her laugh. See her smile. Ease her worry that she wasn’t as great of a dancer as she used to be. Tugging her back toward me, our chests collided. My hands went to her cheeks, pulling her in for another kiss. Stripping off her leotard, only leaving her in her leg warmers and her ballet flats.