Lawmakers (8 page)

A buzzing in her purse caught her attention, and she dug into it to draw out her phone. Brent had sent a text asking about spending the day together tomorrow. Della bit her lip and replied. The excitement hadn’t calmed just yet. She had scarcely said good-bye to Uncle Leonard and told him she would be gone for four days. Poor Brent hadn’t entered her mind. She wrote now about where she was and received silence as a reply. Resolute, she put her phone away and returned her attention to Santi. Brent would never understand or feel good about Santi because of his feelings. She would always respect him but not give in. This was her choice, and Santi was what she wanted.

Della locked onto Santi’s arm and moved in close to him right in front of the steward. The woman didn’t appear shocked, but Della imagined she had seen her lips tighten. Whatever. Della tilted her head and looked into Santi’s face. His hands came up to her waist, and she felt a distinct rise in his crotch.

“You said something about bedrooms?” she whispered.

Santi’s eyes flashed. “Mm, right this way.”

Chapter Seven

“Come to me,
cariño.
” Santi held out his arms as he nestled in the hot tub on the upper deck of the yacht. With a couple crewman standing around—even if they were women—Della felt exposed. She twitched at her cover-up and debated taking it off with just a bikini beneath. Damn it, why did she have to get this bold? Sure, she loved having Santi stare at her naked body, but that didn’t mean it needed to be on display for everyone else. He acted like this was nothing special with his skimpy swimwear on.

“This is fine in Europe,” he’d said. She rolled her eyes thinking of it. The man’s cock was too fat to be showing it off like that. Her pussy clenched remembering. Okay, she was fooling herself, but she’d noticed the chef and Marie hadn’t turned away when Santi unrobed.

Damn it!

“Della,” Santi called in a singsong tone. “I will come and bring you in if you do not move now.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and caught the sound of low murmurs behind her. When she turned, both women offered polite smiles, but she had the feeling they had been talking about her. Raising her chin and glaring at them, she whipped off the robe.
Flat-chested heifers can look at these and weep.

Descending into the water, she noted Santi’s attention plastered to her boobs and was satisfied.

“You torment me in that swimsuit,” he said as if he were in pain. “I want to take it off you as soon as possible.”

“Not out here.”

He tugged her to him, and she turned to settle between his legs. His arms came around her, and she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. Santi fiddled with one of the ties at her hip, and she tried to smack his hand, but being under water made it difficult.

“They have worked for me a long time,” he said. “They do not care.”

“Meaning you’ve been butt naked plenty of times and your guests too, huh?”

He didn’t answer.

She twisted around to look back at him. “Santi?”

“You are what is important to me.”

“I know, but—”

He touched a finger to her lips and then drew her close to kiss her. Della let everything go. She wrapped her arms around Santi’s neck and let him turn her around to face him. Moving away from the wall of the tub, he allowed her to encircle him with her legs. He drew her tighter, and his erection pressed against her mound. Desire exploded in her as if they hadn’t just made wild, passionate love the night before.

He touched the back of her head, and for an instant, she thought of her hair being a tangled, wet mess. Even that she let go. Santi threaded fingers into her locks and forced her head to tilt to the side. She surrendered to the onslaught of his mouth and welcomed his tongue when he thrust it between her lips.

“Santi,” she moaned.

He broke the kiss and reached beneath the water to grab for her swimsuit bottom. She covered his hand and looked to her left. The chef and Marie were gone. Before she could give him the go-ahead, Santi had the tie undone, and his fingers found her wet spot. She gasped, arching into him.

“You bum.” She chuckled when he brought the piece above the water and threw it aside. Santi grinned, unrepentant and hauled her away from him to remove his own. The man had no shame.

She was back in his arms in a heartbeat, and he spread her legs. When he brought her down on his cock, her folds parted, and she groaned in ecstasy. How many times a day could she have Santi and it be enough? She wanted to test it out to see.

“I want to fill you always,
cariño.
”

She shut her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. With strong hands, Santi moved her away and drove her forward. He plunged deeper and deeper into her pussy, controlling their rhythm. All she could do was hang on and love every minute of it. When she thought it couldn’t get any better, Santi sealed her to him while he ground into her heat and reached between them to thumb her clit. A tiny scream escaped her.

“Oh, damn, I’m going to come!” She panted, struggling, but Santi wouldn’t let up. He knew her body so well, and strummed it with expertise. She whimpered his name just as she came harder and stronger than the last time.

She shook as if electrocuted, and Santi pulled out of her. He hauled her up onto the bright yellow cushions surrounding the hot tub, legs dangling in the water. She cried out in protest when he stayed in the water, but he spread her thighs, large hands possessively stroking her skin.

“Santi, what are you doing?”

Her words died when he laved her pussy and pushed his tongue between the folds. She called out his name again and pushed weakly at his shoulders. Her body spasmed. Another orgasm took her. He ate up the come as fast as it dripped from her core. Each time, his tongue impacted with her clit and started the cycle over.

After she lost count of the times he brought her to orgasm, Santi stood up in the hot tub. He grabbed her around the hips and slid her higher to give himself space for a knee. Della opened her mouth but abandoned what she had intended to say. Santi’s cock sank into her pussy, and he pumped slow and easy. Sexy Spanish words fell from his lips, teasing her senses and driving her desires higher. He sank to the hilt and leaned up enough to run his hands the full span of her arms. When he reached her hands, he laced his fingers with hers and pinned her hands to the cushions. A sharp two thrusts, and they came together, murmuring senseless words against each other’s lips.

* * * *

Santi had had to take an important call, and Della waved off his many apologies. She’d been having an amazing time so far. One instance of him being called away didn’t ruin that. While she headed to what he had called the galley, which was the kitchen—because sex with Santi required extra sustenance—she considered a fact he had made no big deal about. Since they had arrived on the yacht, they hadn’t used condoms. She wasn’t worried about pregnancy because she was on the pill, but what did it mean for him to go without? Maybe nothing. She certainly didn’t want to read into anything that wasn’t there.

As she approached Santi’s chef, she smiled. “Good morning, Antonia.”

“Good morning,
Señorita
Della. I hope you are well today?” Antonia’s speech was accented, but she spoke English well. Della never had much of a problem understanding her.

“Yes, I’m good. Thanks.” Della slid onto one of the chairs at the bar. “I know we ate breakfast in the bedroom like two hours ago, but I wonder if I could grab a piece of fruit or a sandwich, anything.”

The woman appeared amused. “Fruit or sandwich.”

Della hesitated. “Hell, give me both. I need energy.”

Antonia went about making her a sandwich. Della could get used to being served all her meals. So many days she was too busy to make something nutritious and opted for McDonald’s or some other fast food. That’s why she couldn’t keep her weight down. Well, that and the fact that she loved to eat.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself with us,
Señorita.
”

“I am. I’ve never been on a yacht, so it’s quite an experience.”

“If you need anything, please be sure to let us know.”

Della took the plate offered to her with a sandwich and a sliced banana on it. She loved bananas, and Antonia had picked up on that in the last two days. “I doubt I’ll need anything you all haven’t already seen to.”

Since Maria wasn’t in the room, Della wondered if she should take a minute to question Antonia. Then again, Santi had said she and Maria had worked for him for years. Would they report back whatever she said to him? As she pondered it, Antonia leaned toward her, and dropped her voice low.

“
Señorita,
you are special.”

Della blinked at her. “Come again? Special?”

Antonia nodded and smiled.

Della decided to play it safe. “I don’t have a close girlfriend. My best friend is a man actually.”

Antonia’s eyebrows rose. Perhaps she’d never heard of such. Della rushed on before she lost her nerve but didn’t know how to turn the conversation in the direction she needed.

“I know Santi has brought a lot of women here. I’m not looking to stick out from the crowd.” That was a lie. She’d been hoping Santi would come right out and tell her he loved her. They had been together for six months. Maybe she wasn’t being realistic. Maybe it was too soon. She didn’t consider herself beneath Santi in any way, but honestly, they were from two different worlds.

“Okay to talk?” Antonia said, hesitant. Della got what she meant. Both of them risked setting Santi off by being too open with one another.

Della gestured toward Antonia. “Please, go ahead.”

“You do stick out,” Antonia insisted. “I know
Señor
Varela. He treats all people well, especially women, but you…” She waggled a finger at Della. Somehow her assertion wasn’t going over well.

Della made a noncommittal sound.

“But…”

Della stiffened. She met Antonia’s gaze. “But?”

“The life of his woman, it’s not for everyone, no?”

“All this?” Della gestured to her surroundings. “What’s not to like? I’m not a materialistic woman, mind you.”

“All this,” Antonia said, “
es bueno,
of course. You must remember,
Señor
Varela is working to please you, to…how do you say it…set the mood,
si
?”

“Si.”

“I’m not saying he would not be as kind if we were home in our own country.
Señor
Varela is always kind. But—”

“But he wouldn’t be trying to impress me?”

Antonia seemed to search for the right way to explain. “Do you understand what it means to be with a man of his stature?”

Della opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“He does not sit around enjoying this lifestyle.
Señor
Varela works hard—always. You are young with much of your life before you. If you were the kind of woman he has brought here before, then it wouldn’t matter. You would find comfort in the luxury alone or with friends when he cannot be there. Now, do you understand?”

What Antonia explained hit Della like a boulder. She got it all right. In short, even with how busy Santi was with work in America, he made special efforts to see her regularly. There were gaps between them seeing each other but never more than a week, and then when he saw her, they spent days enjoying each other, the weekends, and every time she had off school. This would not be the case in Spain. In fact, she guessed, at times when Santi went off to some other country on business, he might not take her. Then she wouldn’t see him for months at a time. But how often was that? Was it the norm? She glanced at Antonia, and from the woman’s expression, she seemed to indicate that it was. Santi wasn’t a lazy rich guy sitting around drinking wine on the beach. He worked for every penny he made and oversaw the businesses he had acquired.

“I think I get it,” she said, swallowing a groan.

Marie walked into the room on the tail end of their conversation, and Della eyed her. She knew the woman didn’t particularly like her, but she still wanted to know Marie’s opinion on the subject.

Della glanced at Antonia. “Can you tell her what I’m saying?”

Antonia agreed.

“What do you think of me and Santi?” Della asked Marie.
Am I just another conquest, someone to spend time at his house in Spain just to be sent home later after he’s done?
She didn’t say the last sentence out loud, but it filled her mind.

Antonia fired off rapid Spanish to Marie, and the younger woman’s eyes widened. She held up her hands and said something Della couldn’t interpret. The shaking of her head back and forth was a strong clue.

“She doesn’t want to disrespect you or
Señor
Varela,” Antonia explained.

“
Está bien.
” Della fumbled over the words, but she believed she had pronounced them correctly. “Just be honest, and tell me what you think. I won’t get mad. Nor will I tell Santi. This is between us.”

Antonia explained, and still Marie hesitated, but as Della refused to give up, she gave in. Marie clutched her hands together in front of her, a wave of sensor rolling off the woman. She said something in Spanish, and Antonia blanched.

“What did she say, Antonia?”

“No, no!” Antonia waved her hands. “Disrespectful. No!”

“Tell me,” Della insisted. She grabbed one of Antonia’s waving arms as the woman swung them in panic. “Say it,
please.
”

Antonia glared at Marie, who appeared unrepentant. Della had the urge to smack the look off her face, but she had invited this, so she might as well swallow her pride and listen.

At last Antonia pushed the words out, but the more she spoke the redder her skin grew. She appeared to be on the verge of panic again but held herself together.

“She says,
Señorita
Della is a conquest, like all the women before, an
American
conquest. If he takes you home, he will send you back.”

Sick, Della bowed her head and shut her eyes. She pressed a hand to her face in humiliation and embarrassment. While she tried to pull herself together, Antonia’s rough tone reached her as she must have chewed out Maria. A sharp order sent the younger woman out of the room, and after a few moments, Antonia touched her shoulder. Della couldn’t make herself look up.