It’s a breathless whisper as I pull back. She turns her head, and our lips brush. Immediately, it explodes into more than any first kiss I’ve ever had. This is all my attraction to her from a decade and a half ago that’s laid dormant along with everything I’ve felt since seeing her. Recognizing her only opened the vault. From the way she’s kissing me, I think it’s the same for her. My free hand tunnels into her hair, and she moans. I fist it, and her tongue thrusts into my mouth.
I let go of her hands to cup her neck, and she fists my shirt. The fucking center console is in the way, or I think she’d try to pull me over it. It’s certainly the only thing that’s keeping me from lifting her to straddle my lap. God, how I want her pussy pressed to my cock. I want to run my hands over her, but I don’t dare.
As much as I want this—as much as I’m ready for this—she’s not. Maybe the kiss, yes. But more? No. She’s hiding from some man who abused her. I don’t want to frighten her. I don’t want her to think I’m some predator. I don’t want to remind her of him.
“Javi, I know you’re not him.”
She pulled away to say that, and she kisses my cheek when she finishes. She brings our lips together again, and she’s even more insistent. I test the waters by tightening my hold on her hair and resting my other hand on her throat. She moans againand leans into my palm. I press more weight against her throat, but nothing more. I kiss along her jaw until my lips are back to where they were when I whispered to her before.
“You’re not a Little. I’m not a Daddy Dom. But you are mychiquita. You’re smaller than me, and you’re vulnerable right now. You deserve and need protection. You deserve and need someone who appreciates you, respects you, wants the best for you. You deserve someone who’ll take care of you.”
“You just described a father.”
“Or a significant other. You deserve a partner.”
“What are you saying, Javi?”
“I’m saying you deserve better than whatever you had.”
She pulls back from me, searching my gaze for something. She doesn’t know if I’m offering or just saying this in passing. She must have missed the “my” both times I said it. I’ve had a week to think about this. To imagine what this would be like. Not just the physical part, though Lord knows I’ve jacked off every day thinking about that.
I’ve thought about what it would be like to offer her those things, and what it might be like if she were my partner. She’s vulnerable in more ways than one, but she’s not weak. If she escaped whatever hellscape she was in, assumed a false identity, and still insists she can protect herself, then that steel backbone I remember from when we were teenagers is still there.
I infuse more command into my voice than I’ve used so far, but I’m careful not to make her think I want to intimidate her.
“I know you heard every word I’ve said, so you must be ignoring me calling youmy chiquita.”
“What am I supposed to call you in return?Papí? Daddy?”
We stare at each other, and something shifts in the air between us. The words hang there, but neither of us shies away from them.
“Do you know how badly I wanted to kiss you like this when we were in high school,chiquita? How big a crush I had on you?”
“You never showed it. I didn’t think you enjoyed being around Laura or me since you hated attending the Sunday dinners you got stuck going to at Luis and Margherita’s.”
“I spoke no English when my mom, brothers, and I arrived. I didn’t understand most of it for the first two years. When I did, I hated the small talk. I hate small talk now. I already saw Pablo and Juan all the time, so there was nothing new to hear from them. Juan and Laura were practically twins and always together. You gravitated to Pablo. Joaquin, Jorge, and I could’ve just stayed home for all we talked to anyone else. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a crush on you.”
I rest my hand on her waist as my other forearm rests on the center console. I’ve twisted toward her as much as I can. What I really want—want even more than a minute ago—is for her to straddle me. Now, it’s so we can talk more easily not just because I want her cunt as close to my cock as I can get it with clothes in the way.
“I had one on you. I thought you didn’t care about me. You had that one girlfriend, but otherwise, you didn’t seem to date. That or you were so discreet, it never came up. You only paid attention to me once you rescued me, but even then, it’s not like we hung out.”
Her gaze doesn’t waver, but her shoulders round a little when she admits she thought our feelings weren’t the same. My fingers tighten on her waist. I want her to know how serious I am about what I’m confessing.
“Maddy, I had that one girlfriend because I couldn’t be with you, so I used to imagine she was you. It didn’t last because I hated pretending since she was never a good substitute. I had some decency to know how wrong that was, so I ended it. I didn’t want anyone else but you. Then you went to Albany for collegeand stayed up there. I rarely saw you while we were in college, and it’d been years since we’ve been in the same room. I was so into you.”
“I was into you, but you never gave me even a hint you were interested.”
As she speaks, her gaze drops to where my arm rests on the console. I shift and draw one of her hands up, so I can still balance my weight while entwining our fingers. My thumb rubs over the back of hers.
“You were outgoing and into everything. You love being around people. I hate it. I’ve always been a homebody. I liked you, but I didn’t think we had enough in common. Besides, there’s no way your parents or you would want you with a guy in the Cartel.”
“That’s present tense. Not back when we were in school. Now.”
“At any time.”
“You know Laura and Juan had a past that went beyond merely being best friends. My parents didn’t stop that.”
“They never liked each other romantically at the same time. They might have been fuck buddies, but they were never a couple.”
