Say Forever(50)

I gasp at the intensity in Andrés's gaze, so dark and thunderous, he looks almost dangerous. His mouth is on mine, crushing me to him. He slips his hand beneath my ass, lifting me as he thrusts deep into me, so far that our hips are locked. He grinds his shaft against me, over and over, in slow, undulating circles.

I lift my legs higher and open them wider, until I feel him gyrating even deeper inside me.

His tongue spears into my mouth, possessing every part of me. Andrés groans as his tempo increases. The length of his engorged cock thrums inside me, as my channel hums with slick desire. My nerve endings are pulsing with need as desire nears its peak. He cries into my mouth, squeezing my ass beneath his bruising grip as his head explodes inside me. His orgasm pushes me over the edge, triggering my own climax. Spirals of ecstasy ripple through me, and I dig my fingers into his back, clinging to him as he stills deep inside me, bathing me with his seed. I pant into his mouth as more pulses of pleasure burst from that point deep inside me.

Andrés feathers kisses across my neck and collar bone. He suckles one nipple, then the other before he rolls off me. I already miss his heat when he disappears into our bedroom and returns with a bath towel.

I lick my lips as I stare at his large shaft. Andrés surprises me by shaking his head, snickering. He lifts me up and settles the towel between my legs. "You need your rest," he breathes into my ear.

"I need you, Andrés," I say as I nuzzle his neck, but my words have fallen on deaf ears. His burning skin cools beneath my touch.

He carries me to bed, lies down beside me, and wraps an arm around my waist. I sigh as I sink against him. Though I want to make love again, Andrés is right. I am tired. My eyelids are heavy,

and as his strong hands massage my neck and shoulders, my eyelids get heavier still. The next thing I know, I'm lying on my back and he's kissing my forehead, my cheek, and finally my lips.

"Goodnight, mija," he says before his weight lifts from the bed. He disappears into the living room without a backward glance. My drunken stupor of lust starts to wear off as reality sets in, and my heart, which was full of peace and love just moments ago, feels empty and cold.





Chapter Fifteen



Andrés

I love the smell of cilantro.

After a long, stressful day at work, and then dealing with my aunt, I need a release, and being surrounded by my new pots and pans full of steaming food is just the way to do it. I chop up spices, garlic, and onion, and add them to the butter before checking the rice. I look at my phone one more time. It's nearly seven-thirty. I'd wanted to start dinner earlier, but, as usual, I had to work late, and the phone call with Tia put me back even more.

I don't want to think about the shit storm I've created. Tia's heart is in the right place, but sometimes she can be too pushy. I know she loves us. I know she means well. I tried to explain Christina's side, but I only offended her more. Now Tia's saying she won't come to the wedding. There are times like tonight when I just want to book a flight to Vegas. We can get hitched there, hit a few buffets and spend the rest of the time in bed. Sounds like the perfect wedding to me. Fuck having something big and complicated. All that matters is that Christina will be mine.

Christina sent me a text she will be home soon, empty handed after shopping for wedding shoes. I'm not sure what it takes to find the perfect wedding shoe, but I guess it's a difficult process. I'm hoping she'll come hungry. Our baby needs proper nourishment, and chicken grilled in a creamy cilantro pesto sauce and topped with portabella mushrooms should do the trick. I've also made a hot spinach salad and warmed the tortillas my uncle Arturo dropped off today.

I shake my head when I think about my meeting with Arturo. He's still pestering me to work for his new catering business. He even promised to give me creative license. Arturo remembers how much I've always loved to cook. How I'd spend hours with him and Tia making tamales and buttery tortillas. I made the mistake of giving him a sample of my pesto sauce last month. Now he doesn't want to let this catering thing go.

What's killing me is I know I'd be good at it. I know I'd enjoy working for his restaurant more than the job I'm doing. Hell, any job would be better than the one I've got. But Tio's turning over all five shops to me next month, and I'll be making a mid-six figure income, something Arturo can't promise me. I've got a family to consider now, and I want to provide for them. Heck, even if I wasn't going to be a family man, I don't think I could walk out on Tio.


***


Christina

After another unsuccessful day of wedding shoe shopping, I'm relieved to come home to the smell of home-cooked Mexican food. Andrés kisses me on the cheek and gets back to making dinner, and I slip into the bedroom and take off my shoes, groaning at the pain in my swollen ankles. What the heck? I'd worn comfortable flats today. My ankles should not be this big, but after several hours of walking through the mall, my poor feet look like stuffed sausages.