“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze flickering nervously to my lips.
I reached up, my thumb gently tracing the line of her jaw, feeling her soft skin. “How badly I’ve been wanting to kiss you,” I said.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. She leaned in slightly, her body language screaming herdesire. I could see her pulse fluttering in her neck, could hear her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
I brushed my lips softly against her cheek, feeling her shiver. “Tell me you want it too,” I murmured. “Tell me you want to feel my tongue exploring your mouth, tasting you.”
She hesitated for a moment, the interior of the car silent except for our breathing. Then she nodded, her voice a soft, breathy whisper, sending heat straight to my groin.
“Kiss me already, Santo. Please.”
I cupped her chin, tilting her head up, and leaned in. My tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing them open. She sighed, granting me access, and our tongues met in a slow, sensual dance.
My pants grew tighter, my dick painfully hard against the confines of my zipper, as the kiss deepened and became sloppy, urgent. Her hands reached up, clutching my shirt, pulling me closer as our tongues tangled and our breaths mingled.
Just as I tweaked her nipple through her blouse, feeling it harden beneath my touch, she pulled away, breathing hard, her lips swollen. “We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered.
“Why not?” I asked, already wanting to kiss her again, to taste more of her.
“Because,” she said, straightening in her seat, smoothing down her slacks, “I am an alien in this country.”
I exploded into laughter at her unexpected response, and she joined me, the erotism dissolving into something lighter. “We’ll get you new clothes and contact the American embassy about your passport.”
“What about my phone? My mom’s gonna flip if I don’t check in.” Concern crept back into her expression.
“We’ll get you a replacement and you can use my phone to contact your mother in the meantime.” I reached over to play with the coily ends of her ponytail.
Tia’s shoulders relaxed, the tight lines around her mouth softening. A smile of genuine gratitude spread across her face, transforming her features from worried to radiant in an instant. The sight caused me to smile as well.
“Thank you. I will pay you back, I promise.” Her sincerity was palpable.
“Now that that’s settled,” I said, restarting the engine, the purr filling the space between us, “let’s get you to a cellular provider and a boutique.”
7
I stared at the lighter-skinned Black woman standing beside who I assumed was Santo’s uncle. Something about their body language immediately struck me as odd. Like they weren’t a joyfully wedded couple.
We’d just returned from our shopping expedition, bags of new clothes and my replacement phone in tow, expecting to find things the way we left them earlier. Instead, we’d walked into what felt like a completelydifferent script.
“Wife?” Santo blurted, recovering from his surprise almost instantly. He strode forward, his momentum nearly pulling me along. “Since when? What happened to Stella?”
Konstantin’s eyes shifted to me with a questioning look. He was the tallest of the brothers, with a brooding air that made him seem out of step with the room’s energy. He hadn’t smiled once since we arrived.
“And who might this be?” he asked, clearly attempting to redirect.
“This is Tia Massey,” Santo answered. “She saved me.”
Konstantin’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ah! The American girl!” He stepped forward, taking my hand between both of his. “A pleasure to meet you properly, Miss Massey.”
“Likewise,” I murmured, acutely aware of the family’s collective gaze.
“And this,” Konstantin said, gesturing to the woman beside him, “is Kayla... Athanasiou. My wife.”
Kayla was dressed in a sunny yellow jumpsuit. The color beautifully complimented her honey complexion. Her long braids were swept over one shoulder, and gold hoops dangled from her lobes. She radiated kindness.
“Hello,” Kayla said, extending her hand to me.
Her American accent immediately put me at ease. Her grip was firm and her smile polite, though I detected a hint of strain around her eyes.
