I was still thinking it, sitting outside in the sunshine, about to pull my Kindle out of my purse and catch up on my latest Game of Thrones novel, when Mateo appeared in front of me.
My heart slowed and I slowly looked up.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, hands in his jean pockets. He was now wearing his casual garb again—grey fitted t-shirt, worn jeans. His hair was all messy black waves and hanging a bit in his face, begging to be touched. His eyes were luminous, like starlight.
“You were?” I asked.
“I was worried about you after last night.”
I smiled awkwardly. “Yes, well…I am better now.”
“Good.” He held out his hand for me. I noticed he wasn’t wearing his Rolex and there was a faint tan line where it had been. He was still, of course, wearing his wedding ring. “I noticed we have a session after our break. Would you like to go for a walk with me?”
I stared at the ring on his finger. I thought about what it meant. Then I thought about what he meant to me. Cautiously, I reached out and gave my hand to him. He pulled me up to my feet, my long skirt flowing around my legs like water.
“I’d love to go for a walk with you,” I said. “Maybe we can find a tree to sleep under.”
His eyes danced and he squeezed my hand, causing the nerves in my arm to quake. “Maybe.”
He didn’t keep holding my hand, however, not that I expected him to. But as we walked down the hill toward the country road, he kept moving closer to me, our hands brushing against each other. After knowing what his kiss was like, I was still surprised that the lightest bit of contact between us set my skin alight. The man was ruining me, bit by bit.
We strolled up the road away from Acantilado, not saying very much, just enjoying each other’s company, the sweet-smelling breeze, and the heat that baked us between the sun and the hard earth. The air buzzed with cicadas and floated with butterflies. The fields shimmered with haze. Summer was officially here.
“Tell me, Vera,” he said. “What are you going to miss the most about Spain?”
“You,” I said automatically. It was the truth, there was no getting around it, not anymore.
He had such a beautiful smile. “I am glad for that. But you’ll miss the country too, yes?”
I nodded. “Definitely. In fact, I think I belong here more than I do back at home. This place…makes you feel alive. It gives you, I don’t know, spirit.”
“Spain looks good on you,” he said. “You can see it on your face. I think you could be happy here.”
My smile shrank a little. “I think so too…”
“Sometimes your home isn’t where you were born,” he noted.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, though I knew what he said was true.
Mateo suddenly grabbed my hand. He took me to the side of the road and lifted up the top wire of a fence, about to lead me through it. I stepped under, careful not to trip, and we walked, hand in hand, across a golden field of tall grass and brilliant wildflowers. In the distance was a picturesque oak tree, its shimmering green canopy leaning over the tawny ground.
We went over to the tree, the grass tickling my bare legs as I held up my skirt and stood at the edge of the shade, looking at the field, at Mateo. The grass and the flowers practically swallowed the trunk of the tree, and there wasn’t really a clear area to even sit.
“Not really the best tree to have a nap under,” I said.
He shrugged, the sunlight dappled on him through the leaves above. “It looked better from far away.”
He was still holding my hand. As if we both noticed this at the same time, he went and grabbed my other hand and squeezed both. He dipped his chin and gazed intently at me. Whatever polite façade we were demonstrating a few moments ago was quickly disappearing. I could feel the change between us, the tension growing thicker, calling attention to it, to us. To what we were and what was unresolved.
It called attention to everything. And each moment that Mateo held onto me with his strong hands, every second that his deep eyes bore into mine, seeking and searching, the tension intensified.
“Vera.” He said my name like silk and I knew I would never grow tired of hearing it. I looked down, unable to bear the impassioned look on his face. “I never got a chance last night to tell you how I feel.”
The cicadas chirped, matching the rhythm of my skipping heart. A light breeze blew past, tousling his hair.
“I know.” I swallowed thickly. I took in a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “And I’m afraid to hear it.”
“Why?” he asked. “Because you don’t feel the same way?”
I looked up to see pain pinched on his brow as his eyes sought mine.
“No,” I told him, mustering a scared smile. “Because I do.”
I expected him to return the smile, but his frown only deepened, and the fire in his stare smoldered to hazardous levels. He put one hand at my cheek, cupping it, while the other gripped the back of my neck. He held me there, his gaze penetrating, and I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t. I was completely, totally, one hundred percent his for the taking.
“My life used to be chaotic,” he said quietly. “It used to be more of a life. Then the accident happened. And I met Isabel. She took the chaos that was my life and organized it. She trimmed it, separated it. and put it into these tiny boxes, boxes I was too scared to touch. You, you, Vera, you found those boxes and you opened them up. You ripped them apart. You let the chaos loose, filling my life with energy and stars again.” His lids drooped seductively, the grip on my neck becoming firmer. “You burn so brightly,” he said, his voice low and rough to raise the hair on my arms. “I would like to burn with you.”
I felt like my knees were about to give out.
Then he kissed me. Hard. Passionately. With so much intensity I could hardly breathe. His lips and tongue caused shockwaves from my mouth to my toes, flooding every part of me with bubbles and sunshine until I felt like I was soaring.
I grabbed on to his head to stay grounded, sinking my fingers into the smooth hair at the back of his head, gripping it tight. I gave his strands a tug which caused him to moan inside my mouth, a moan that only added to the heat that was combusting between us.
I felt like I was slipping away, becoming nothing but desire.
Desire was a python, wrapping itself around us, squeezing us to a radiant death.
“Estrella,” he said as he pulled his mouth away and began kissing along my jawbone to my neck. “I have never wanted anyone, anything, quite like I want you.”
I groaned as his lips went behind my ear, sucking on my sensitive skin. “I promise you, you can have me. I am yours,” I said, my breath hitching.
“You are my star,” he murmured. “You are my Estrella.” He trailed his lips down to my collarbone, nipping gently at the tattoos there. “I don’t think I can take much more of this. I’m afraid I am too impatient, too greedy now that I have you here, have you now.”
Before he could say anything else, I grabbed his shirt and pulled it up over his head, flinging it toward the tree. My fingers pressed against his firm, tanned pecs and I could feel how fast his heart was beating. I curled my fingers into the short hairs on his chest and tugged at those too, smiling when I got another moan out of him. My god, he was such a man, a man I had never had before, a new, beautiful breed of maturity and machismo. I almost felt like I was a virgin again.
But I certainly didn’t want to behave that way. I put my hands at his jeans and quickly undid the belt buckle and zipped down his fly. Instead of pulling them off right away, I slipped one hand down his pants and got myself a handful of him. If I was wearing underwear, they would have been soaked at the feel of his cock in my hands. He was hard as cement and big enough to get me very excited.