Dancing in a Hurricane (45 page)

"Nope. I need to hear about you and Cloe. How you ended it."

The scene at the church, the humiliation at Kyle's apartment, those seemed easy to talk about compared to the days that followed. "Are you asking as a boyfriend or as a psychologist?"

"I'm both."

She sighed. "Okay, but do you want more wine?" She gestured to the nightstand. "I brought you an unbreakable glass."

He laughed. "I'm okay without. Would you like some?"

"No. I'm good."

"Anyway…"

She ran her fingers down his cheek. "You're going to be a great shrink one day." She kissed his chin. "Anyway, Cloe disappeared for three days. While she was gone, I had the house appraised and I packed all her things. When she came back, she waltzed into the kitchen when two of my friends and I were writing apology letters and sending back the wedding gifts. 'Shouldn't you be on your honeymoon?' she asked me.

"My girlfriends went at her. Literally. All three of them rolled around on the floor, clawing and pulling hair." She laughed. "It was another surreal moment, but I have to admit I took a perverse enjoyment from seeing her getting thumped.

"Great visual. And you can laugh about it now. That's good."

"Yeah, I guess so. After the girls bloodied Cloe's nose and ripped her blouse, I pulled them off her and sent them home. Cloe tried to tell me she did it for my own good. She knew he was wrong for me. I asked her why she let me put on my wedding dress and wait at the church like an idiot.

"She said it was to make it more real to me. And that if Kyle saw me beaten down that way, he was bound to either marry me on the spot if he loved me, or dump me and move on if he didn't.

"She probably did—"

"You know what, Sixto?" She sat up, pointing a finger at his face. "If you say 'Cloe's right' one more time, I'm going to bite you."

He looked pensive. "Where?"

"
¡Callarse!
"

He grinned.

"So anyway, I cried myself dry, telling her how I begged him. How my life was ruined. How her cruelty finally reached the point where I wanted it to end."

"Did that get her attention?"

"Not at first, but I took her out into the garage and showed her the boxes of her stuff. Cloe shook her head and said that I didn't mean it. I'd cool off after a few weeks.

"And really, I can see why she'd think that. I did just exactly that all my life. But this time, I was through. I showed her the paperwork on the house value, the list of furniture, and how much it was worth. I gave her a check for half of everything."

"How did she respond?"

She smiled and said she'd take the check, but wouldn't cash it for a month. She gave me a month to forgive her. Funny, isn't it? I still haven't forgiven her in five years."

"Funny." The look in his eyes was solemn.

"Now you're being the sarcastic shrink."

"Sorry. 'Then what happened?' said Bree's boyfriend."

"That's better." She snuggled in. "After a month, she came back. She apologized, she said she sent a letter to Kyle and his family apologizing to them. She said she'd cut her hair short and dye it red, like I told Kyle I'd do. And she'd keep it that way until I forgave her."

"Your hair is beautiful. That had to be a huge deal for her."

"Again, whose side are you on?"

"My girlfriend's side. I'll shut up now."

She sighed. "No, don't shut up, Sixto. Your insight into this is truly helping me. Yes, it was huge for Cloe to cut her hair. And while I appreciated her saying it, making the gesture, I didn't believe she'd actually do it, you know? She disappointed me so many times before, I couldn't trust her."

He held her close.

With her ear pressed against his chest, she heard his heart beating slowly, powerfully. What would she do without this man? She slid her hand under his shirt and caressed his stomach.

"Bree?" His voice rumbled deep out of his chest.

"Mm hm?"

"Ready for bed?"

She ran her hand up to his chest and flicked his nipple. "Depends on what you mean."

"
Cariña
." He stood, taking her into his arms. He walked to the bed and laid her on the comforter. "I think you know what I mean."

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sixto's eyes turned dark, he leaned over Bree, kissing her passionately, intently, letting her know what he wanted.

"Take off your clothes for me," She whispered and moved to the middle of the bed, rolled onto her side, and propped her head on her bent arm to watch.

He stared at her, pulled his shirt off in one swipe, and stripped his pants and underwear off in less than a second.

She huffed. "That wasn't very tantalizing."

"You want a striptease, go to Las Vegas." He climbed on the bed, crawled over her, and knelt astride her hips. "You want me naked, that's the best I can do."

She reached for the hem of her shirt. "I want us both naked."

He groaned. Pulling off her top, he fanned his fingers over her nipples, setting a bolt of lightning down to her core.

"Please. More," she panted. She slid her hands down his chest to his stomach, his hard shaft lay heavy on her belly. Looking into his eyes, she stroked her fingers over him.

"Yes,
cariña
. Touch me." He teased her nipples, his eyes half closed.

She ran her fingers up and down his length. "It's so hot. Feels like satin."

His fingers traced down her ribs, lower, to her panties. "Sexy."

"Mm." She grabbed his shaft in her hand, rubbed the head on her stomach, and squirmed up on the bed and rubbed him on her panties over her mound, the lace and satin between them.

He snapped her underwear and lay beside her. "Take these off. Like you work in Vegas."

"Hmmm." She gave him a naughty grin. "As you command." She rolled off the bed and stood with her back to him, slowly peeling the undies down, bending from the waist. Stepping out of the panties, she looked back at him.

Scalding desire burned in his eyes. "You're a hell of a tease." His voice was a low, sensual growl.

"I watch HBO too, you know." Her words grew quieter as the effect of his stare worked through her body. Her core contracted and her belly felt swollen, achy with need.

"Okay, let's see what you've learned. How are you going to satisfy your man?"

She walked to the chair and bent over, her hands on the cushion. Arching her back, she tipped her butt up and went up on tiptoes.

He leapt out of bed. "
Dio mio
."

This must be turning him on if he used Spanish. Her thighs quivered as the soft flesh between her legs expanded and heated.

He stood behind her. "
Esparza tu piernas
."

It took her a few seconds to interpret. She spread her feet apart, looking over her shoulder at him while circling her hips. "Is this what you want?" she purred.

"
Muy perfecto
."

He rolled on a condom, his hands gripped her hips, and he pushed into her, startling her with his urgency. Holding her tightly, he pumped feverishly, she sensed the animal in him coming out, taking its prey. Chills raced up her spine, colliding with each other on the way back down. Her opening, her whole core, convulsed at his sensual invasion, completely filling her, while the rubbing against her G spot made her crazy for release.

He reached around her, touched her clit, and vibrated quickly. "Come with me, baby. Fast. I can't wait."

His words sent her reeling. As he cried out in primal lust, she shrieked and climaxed, her orgasm low in her body, warmth rushing from her womb and overtaking her. She flew over the edge, her mind freefalling, tumbling into a world of fireworks. She heard her own voice calling from far away. "Love me, Sixto."

"I do, Bree." He shook as he pushed into her a final time. Bending over her, his fists rested on the cushion on either side of her hands. As if he would possess her completely.

She panted, her knees weak, her flesh tingling wherever he touched her.

Picking her up, they fell together onto the bed. She reached over and touched his hand, but couldn't find the muscle strength to move closer.

She forgot about the hurricane outside. Compared to the man she loved, it was as weak as a baby.

***

Sixto woke an hour later. What was it with Bree and him falling asleep? He got up and covered her with a blanket. He never fell asleep after sex. Maybe he'd always been on edge before, and with Bree, he could relax. He patted her lush bottom. More likely, the cause of his exhaustion was outstanding sex, and orgasms that were—he shivered—world class.

Closing the bathroom door so he wouldn't wake her, he used the toilet. But halfway through, he hardened. Damn, don't think about her ass. Or her tits. Or those lips, shit, what he wouldn't do to have them wrapped around his cock. "Not thinking of that." Storm damage. "I'll be picking up junk from the lawn for weeks."

He walked back into the bedroom and looked at the TV. The hurricane sat on top of them, the wind roared outside the house, pounding the rain against the shutters. And his stomach rumbled. Sandwich.

Walking to the kitchen, he flipped on the small light over the stove. He opened the fridge and pulled out bread, meat, pickles, and mayo. Stacking it into a ginormous pile, as Bree called it, he made a mental note to take her out for a nice meal and a movie. Celebrate her new job.

Maybe dancing or to a club. He bit into his sandwich. Club Quay. Chewing, he leaned back against the counter. He had to tell her. It wasn't right to lie to her. When she found out, it could blow up and ruin this perfect life he stumbled into.

Grabbing the other half of the sandwich, he went to his room and logged onto the website. There was a lot of activity from prospective swingers applying for acceptance in the club. It was his favorite part of his job: to look over the apps then forward them to the management company who did a background and health check on them. They then sent the approval or denial back to him.

If they were approved, he sent them their first invoice for five thousand and made sure their credit cards were hit with five hundred more every month of their membership. Big bucks. Risky business.

An unusual assortment of members appeared in this batch. Lawyer, car salesman, photographer, surgeon. All approved.

He sent the invoices and logged off, finished his sandwich, cleaned up the kitchen, and went back to Bree's room. He slid into bed behind her pulling a pillow under their heads, nesting her tightly against him.

She stirred and whispered, "Hi, love. I missed you."

"I'm here." Always.

Six hours later, he woke to the sound of whirlpool jets. He squinted at the television. The hurricane must be gone, the morning news showed Miamians picking debris off their lawns. He stretched, making his usual morning groans as his joints popped. He got up and went into the bathroom.

With her hair piled on top of her head, she floated neck-deep in bubbling water. "It's citrus scented, so you won't smell like a
chica
."

He smiled. "I'm in." He lifted the toilet seat and saw her glance over. Hadn't she ever seen a man piss? Maybe not. Her ex-fiancé sounded like a wet noodle. Finishing, he washed his hands. Guys told him he was fussy for washing up every time, but after working at the bar, it became a habit.

Sixto stepped one foot in, then the other. Bree made room for him. The water felt good. He had the same tub in his bathroom, but never used it.

She handed him a spring-loaded pink plastic thing.

He looked at it. "No clue."

"It's a hair clip. To keep your hair out of the water." She gestured. "Sit, I'll do it for you."

He sat between her legs, his back to her. The water went high, but drained out the overflow.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled his ponytail up, and fastened it at the top of his head. He leaned back against her, his head next to hers.

She tipped her head and kissed him, smelling his breath. "You ate a sandwich in the middle of the night, didn't you?"

He smiled and laid his head back. "Yep. You fell asleep so I didn't have to share."

"Greedy."

"You know it." The citrus salts in the water made her skin smoother than usual. He ran his hands down her calves and massaged her feet.

"That's nice."

When she moved, her firm breasts and tight nipples pressed into his back. He was instantly hard.

She felt it against her foot and slid her toes up and down his length.

He groaned and brought her foot to his mouth. She was bendy. Had to be the yoga. He'd buy a couple's yoga DVD and see what erotic contortions they could come up with. Sucking her toes, he listened to her breath grow shallow. He ran his tongue across the underside of her toes, tickling, teasing.

"Sixto, how come that makes me horny?"