Monsi’s voice was as serious as I’d ever heard her when she spoke next. “There’s no getting over you for Yariel. You know that.”
I did know that. I knew it because I’d spent the last ten years actively avoiding what had been in front of my face. I’d had girlfriends I cared for, but always just right under surface had been the things I felt for Yariel and was never ready to look at too closely. The need I had for his time. The joy I got from his presence. For his body and warmth in my space. The purpose I felt, knowing he needed me. That other than his parents and his career, he valued my friendship more than anything else in his life. I was secure in that sacred corner of Yariel’s heart where there was only space for a special few. I could admit, if only to myself, that in the past the fear of losing my place in his life had always kept me from reaching for more. But that was before I knew what it felt like to be his.
“If he’s scared, he has to tell me. This is too big and too important to not at least talk about, and right now he’s being a moody asshole.”
“Because he’s terrified,” Monsi added, and then softened the blow. “And I know you are too.”
I took stock of my body, what I was feeling, and noticed the rapid heartbeat, the jitters as we approached the part of the airport where we’d take the private jet to the DR. “To be honest, I’m more scared of not knowing than anything else. But I’m not the doom-and-gloom one in this equation, and I know we can be great together. I’ve always known that.”
“He’s been waiting for you for a long time, Haty. Don’t forget that.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of Monsi’s words. Knowing what uncertainty did to Yariel. “I know.”
I saw him before he noticed the car. Standing in his fancy baseball player travel clothes: custom slacks to fit that big body, leather ankle boots and the navy cashmere pea coat I’d helped him pick out. I was wearing a matching charcoal one he’d gotten me that day. His brown skin was flushed with red from the cold, and I was practically salivating watching him. His eyes were covered by a pair of aviators, but the hard line of his mouth told me I had my work cut out of for me for the next four days.
“I have to go, chula. Thanks for talking to me. I promise I won’t do anything over the top. But I’m not letting him shut me out either. If I have to use a few tricks here and there, I will.”
And because Monserrat loved us both but also lived for drama, she cackled. “So you’re going toseducehim.”
I thanked the driver as I stepped out of the car with my backpack slung over one shoulder, and my eyes trained in the direction of the man in question. I noticed the exact moment when he spotted me. His entire body went taut with alertness. A mirror to my reaction to him, and when he took off his sunglasses, those green-and-gray eyes burned.
When I finally responded to Monsi, he was making his way to me. His steps were quick, like he’d made himself wait but had given up resisting. Yariel could lie to me, he could even lie to himself, but his stare spoke loud and clear. He was in a bad way just as I was, andIwas going to do something about it. “This trip has just officially become Operation Make Him Sweat.”
I ended the call with Monserrat’s throaty laugh in my ears and stayed put in my spot, waiting for my best friend come to me. No, I wasn’t going to let him have his way.
When he finally got close enough to touch, I did. I pushed up and kissed him on the cheek. Ran my hand over his face, like I’d done thousands of times, but still it felt new, because all those other times I was not ready to claim him. I was ready now.
Yariel
None of this was going according to plan. Hatuey’s vibe had me all fucked up. He was supposed to be skittish, freaking out about having sex with me. But since we’d gotten on this damn plane, Hatuey’d been sending me looks like he wanted to swallow me whole.
“Fuck.” I groaned as I shifted in the leather seat, hating myself for putting the wordsHatueyandswallowtogether in my head.
“You look a little flushed, Yari.” That smartass tone was not helping either.
I grunted in answer and turned to look at him, trying hard to assess if he was just messing with me. I glared in his direction, not dialing back my mood or my attitude at all. But he kept up that Mr. Chill thing that drove me up the wall sometimes, always sunny. Hell, most of the time seeing him all relaxeddidgo a long way to lighten my mood.
But I wasn’t feeling friendly today. I felt reckless and turned on, and I’d be damned if I was going to let either of those get the better of me. He was on his phone now, but every few seconds would let his eyes wander my way, as if I’d vanish into thin air if he looked away for too long. If he was as pressed as I was, I couldn’t see it. But I knew him as much as he knew me, and he had to be bugging too, even if just a little bit.
“Who are you texting?” I snapped, in a much sharper tone than warranted, and got an arched eyebrow.
“Just Monsi.” He leaned back, brown eyes trained somewhere on my forehead. He licked his lips, and I swore I could feel the roughness of his tongue on my cock. I needed to look away, I really did, but it was like I was in trance and the pendulum was Hatuey’s mouth. “You need anything?”
The question went straight to my dick, which was very eager to provide an answer. I shuddered out a breath and leaned in when he ran a hand over his chest. His finger just barely missing a nipple. The nipple I’d played with. Put my teeth on.
Shit. I wasn’t going to survive this flight.
“Everything okay over here?” Thank god for flight crews. The flight attendant, who hopefully had not noticed my raging hard-on before I threw a blanket on my lap, stepped into the cabin. The interruption was the proverbial bucket of ice water I needed dumped on my fool head. But next to me, the demon I thought was my best friend just laughed at my highly flustered state.
I nodded while I glared at him, and pointed at the empty glass on the armrest tray. “I’ll have another Zacapa on the rocks.” I gestured to Hatuey, who was grinning at me like a brown-eyed devil in jeans and cashmere.
“I’ll have what he’s having.”
The flight attendant snapped her head in assent and quietly scurried away to get our drinks ready while I stared at him.
Had Hatuey’s voice always sounded like sex? Or was that just my fucking psyche doing me dirty again? And because my dick was using about ninety-nine percent of the blood that was usually coursing through my brain, it took me a second to catch what he’d said.
And instead of just leaving it alone, I had to be a prick about it. “You drink rum now?” Why did I sound pissed about everything?
