The Love of a Latino (5 page)

Confused by these unfamiliar
thoughts, Rafe grabbed the bottle of Vodka from the bar and flopped down on the
lounge chair on the balcony. Popping the cap, he raised the bottle to his mouth
and winced when the warm liquor scorched a path down his throat. He would try
just about anything to get Dahlia out of his mind and right now, a couple of
stiff drinks seem to be doing the trick.

****

The morning after, Rafe woke up
with a nasty hang over—which only fueled his anger. It had been years since he
drank so much in one night and he was now paying the price.

After a long soak in the cold
sea and a couple cups of coffee the pounding in his head receded to a dull
throb. His hand hurt like hell, but even that wasn’t enough to make him forget
her. It was almost lunch time and although he didn’t eat breakfast, he wasn’t
hungry, at least not for food that is. Powering on his laptop he pulled up the
airline website. He wanted the earliest flight out. There was no reason to stay
here anymore. If he did stay, the remaining three weeks would be pure hell.

Even if he never saw Dahlia
again, he still couldn’t marry Sarafina. He thought it only fair that she know
that. He would deal with his parents after.  He was about to punch in his
credential when a soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He tried to
ignore it, hoping the person would go away but it came again, a little louder
this time.

Swearing under his breath he
strode to the door, prepared to bark at the intruder. Jerking it open he
stilled at the sight of Dahlia standing there. He forgot whatever it was he
wanted to say. He forgot that he was supposed to get rid of the intruder.

“Hi, Raphael…” The two words
were just a whisper, but it was music to his ears. He didn’t know what to say.
She had been gone for seven days without a word and suddenly she was standing
in front of him.

Relief flooded him at the
sight of her but his earlier anger quickly resurfaced. “
Hi, Raphael…?¿Eso es
todo?
This is all you can say to me after seven days without even a phone
call?”
Dios!
He was sounding like a jealous boyfriend. Sean would have a
fit if he saw him now; he would
definitely
have a field day with Rafe’s
actions.

A curious looking maid stood
a few doors down, paying close attention to the obvious confrontation. Not
wanting his private life to be a free topic of gossip for the hotel staff, he snatched
Dahlia’s hand jerking her into the room, slamming the door behind them. Whirling
around he was ready to do battle, but faltered when he saw her strained face
and swollen eyes. His anger fizzled out quickly, replaced by concern.

“Dahlia, what is it? What
happened?” He touched her cheek with a trembling hand and at that moment Rafe
knew that he didn’t care where she had been the past seven days, he was just
happy she was here now. She came back to him. That must mean something.

“I’m sorry I left without
telling you, but it all happened so fast. The night after the turtle watching
when we got home there was a message waiting on the phone. My aunt in Boston…she
was in an accident, she was asking for me. My uncle had already booked
emergency tickets for us, so we left that same night. I know I should have left
you a message or something but I was confused. When we got there everything
happened so quickly. She died the next day, but I got to see her…” Her voice
broke then and Raphael gathered her into his arms. Her body shook for a long
time as she cried silently.

His heart ached for her and
he wished there was some way he could ease her pain. Feeling like every kind of
fool, he scolded himself. These past couple of days he had been concerned that
she left because of him. He hadn’t spared a moment to think that something bad
had happened.

When her cries were nothing
but a series of watery hiccups, she moved away from him, looking him in the
eye. “Are you angry at me? I was worried that when I came back you wouldn’t be
here.” Those beautiful brown eyes silently pleaded for understanding.

“I am not angry anymore,
Corazón,
just happy that you’re safe and here with me.” Taking her hand, he guided her
to the sofa and pulled her down with him. “I’m sorry about your aunt.” He
offered a sympathetic smile.

She smiled up at him teary
eyed, and Rafe knew a great moment of happiness at having this woman is his
life.

“I missed you so much.” She
whispered.

“Not as half as I missed you,
my
Dahlia.”

She leaned forward; kissing
him on his lips, breaking down the scrap of barrier he erected the past couple
of days. He accepted what she offered—opening his mouth, allowing her tongue to
slip past his teeth.

At the first touch she
groaned, positioning her body, bringing her breast against his chest. Her hand
tunneled through his hair locking his mouth to hers. Still he didn’t move, for
fear of losing control. She strained—trying to get closer, her tiny body
rocking against his, an urgent need he detected deep within her.

“Raphael…” Her plea was hot
against his lips, her tongue dancing across them, causing chaos within his
soul.

“Yes, Dahlia?”

“Please..? She begged rubbing
her body against his hardened one. His control was slowly slipping, but he
needed to hold on for a little while longer.

“Please what,
mi amor?”
He urged her on. He needed to hear her say it, to know it was real. He wanted
no regrets.

“Please make love to me. I
need you so much.” She cried.

“Ah…
mi tesoro,
I need
you too. Let me show you how much.” He grounded out pulling her on to his lap,
the evidence of his desire ready to her touch.

****

Dahlia savored the feel of
him.
She missed him so much.
The last couple of days had been engulfed
in grief. It felt so good to be here with Raphael now. His kisses warmed her
and she gloried in the pleasure it brought her. She could feel his arousal
pressing against her bottom and shifted slightly, forcing a deep masculine
growl from him. He stood up abruptly, his arms supporting her weight; her hand
encircling his neck and strode through the door that led to the bedroom.
Ripples of pleasures slivered down her spine when she thought of the minutes up
ahead. Tonight she would become a woman. This was like every fantasy she had as
a little girl, every romance novel coming to life.

Raphael stopped short of the
bed, lowering her to her feet. He didn’t kiss her, for a moment he just stared,
the shadowy gray of his passion-filled eyes caressing her face. Placing both of
his hands on her hips he turned her, pulling her against his length. His
arousal pressed against the small of her back as he buried his face in her hair,
inhaling her intoxicating scent. One hand encircled her waist imprisoning her
against his hardness. The other came up to her neck to move aside the hair that
rested on her shoulder. The back of his finger glided ever so gently from the
tender spot below her ear to the base of her neck. Her eyes drifted close at
the hidden desire he aroused with that single touch. His lips replaced his
fingers, feathering hot kisses along the same part, her legs weakened beneath
her. She buckled under his caress and his hand around her waist tightened.

“Raphael…?”

“¿Si, Querida?”

“Please…” She sounded unreal
even to her own ear.

“Soon,
mi amor,
soon
you will have what you desire.” He promised, his husky voice scorching her
frail senses.

His free hand came up to
graze the tip of her breast through the thin fabric of the button down blouse
and she pressed against him, her desire mounting further. Releasing her waist,
he brought his other hand up to gently cup both of the hardened mounds, his
tongue flickering across her earlobe. His teeth gently nipped the soft skin
there, his hand squeezing lightly. Her body trembled against his, a hoarse cry
escaping her lips—signaling her need for more.

His hands went back to her
hip gently pushing her forward. He stayed with her, guiding her around the side
of the king-size bed. Still standing behind her, he took his time in undoing
the tiny buttons of her blouse, his hand brushing against her skin with every
movement, every touch—wreaking havoc. Moving away gently, he tugged at the
fabric slipping the flimsy scrap of silk down her arms and off her shoulder,
discarding it nearby. Holding her still, he circled around her, his face
hovering closely above hers.

For the first time, she saw
how hard he was fighting to control his desire, lips pulled tight. She kissed
the pulse at the base of his neck which tattooed with every breath he took, and
his hands squeezed her waist. His need was as great as hers. Lowering himself
to a sitting position on the edge of the bed he drew her between his open
thighs, her breast dangerously close to his mouth. Leaning forward his mouth
skimmed a spot just above the waist of her skirt, causing her eyes to flutter
shut. She held on to his broad shoulder, not knowing how much more of this she
could endure. His tongue began a gentle assault on her skin, blazing hot kisses
across the flat planes of her stomach. She had no idea how it happened but her
skirt brushed down her legs, pooling around her ankles. Not wanting to disturb
the maddening pleasure she felt, she quickly stepped out of the material,
kicking it aside, cautious not to interrupt his touch.

Moving away from her a
little, he hastily removed his shirt, pulling her back into his embrace. He
nudged her forward a little, pulling her down on top of him, until she was
straddling him. “Ah, Corazón, you are even more beautiful than I imagined. I
wish to remember you like this forever.”

His mouth reclaimed hers; his
hand continuing their exploration. Her body no longer belonged to her. Everywhere
he touched was on fire, causing her to writhe against him but there was still
something missing. Something she knew only Raphael could give to her.

Raphael fought like a man
hanging on for dear life. She was driving him crazy. His need for her was
beyond what he had ever experienced, but he wanted tonight to be about Dahlia.
He wanted her to know only
him
, to remember only
him.
Her other
lovers would be forgotten and it would be
his
name she called out
tonight and every night after this.

Her breasts were soft and
warm against his chest through the fabric of her bra, her legs wrapped around
him. Reaching a hand behind her back he unclasped her bra, freeing her. He
could hear her soft cries of pleasure as his lips and hands played her body
like a fine tuned instrument, every touch, and every stroke— releasing a new
harmony. When his mouth finally claimed one of her darkened peaks, her head
fell back, a cry of raw pleasure tore from her throat and Raphael knew he would
not last. He needed her now; needed to sheath himself inside her warmth or
surely he would go mad.

Reversing their positions, he
laid her on the wide bed, coming down with her legs still wrapped around him. Detangling
himself from her, he swiftly removed their remaining clothes, his eyes
worshipping the perfect contours of her body. She whimpered when he returned to
her waiting arms. His aching desire to possess her was a delightful, strange
feeling. Nudging her thighs apart with a knee he nestled against her feminine
heat.

“¡Eres mía!”
He breathed into her ear before he claimed her.

****

Hours after, Rafe supported
himself on one hand, admiring Dahlia as she slept. She lay on her stomach, both
hands tucked under her pillow, her breathing shallow.  He bent to press a kiss
to her bare shoulder. She muttered something inaudible and stirred little. After
making love the first time, they had rested for a short while, but their need
for each other was urgent and their coming together the second time was heated,
leaving them both hovering on the edge of insanity. They were meant for each
other. She was his Bonnie and he her Clyde.

Moving from the bed, he
pulled on his trousers, stopping to observe her for a brief second. Her unique
beauty was beyond description, her mass of curls fanned out partly across her
exposed back. He closed his eyes, memories of his face buried in her hair as
they rode the waves of pleasure that consumed them both, threatening to take
him back to her, to wake her with hot kisses.

A sudden image of Sarafina
flashed across his thoughts, causing a knot to form at the back of his neck. He
tried desperately to rub it away but it persisted. Out on the balcony, he
stared up at the darkened sky, stars scattered across the dark blanket. He
hadn’t meant for it to happen this way. He wanted to tell Dahlia about
Sarafina, explain his plans before making love to her. But when she had shown
up at his door and kissed him the way she did, he lost all control. Losing
control was not something Raphael Cavos did, but he could not remember needing
any woman the way he needed her. And now, even after loving her thoroughly, he
still wanted her.  He had been pleasantly surprised when he took her the first
time realizing she was untouched. No man knew the secrets of her body—except
him. That knowledge filled him with a sense of masculine pride and a need to
possess her completely. He wouldn’t allow any other man to touch what was his.