“Imagine if you marry Elijah? That would make Ana and me sisters!” She beams, blowing a kiss to me as she reaches the door.
I catch her kiss midair and hold it against my heart.
I think I might actually be on my way to getting myself a boyfriend.
Nowthat’sa first!
12
ELIJAH
“Elijah, love. Are you still awake?”
I look up from my cell as the bedroom door swings open and my husband walks in. As usual, he looks scrumptious in his sleepwear. Tousled shoulder-length hair, bare chested, loose hunter-green shorts grazing his hips, drawstrings dangling over a beautiful, thick bulge.
My dick immediately plumps up. It’s been such a normal reaction for so long, I’m not even fazed by it anymore.
“Boundaries, Gabriel.” I scowl at him. “We need to set some boundaries.”
“Oh pleeease, Elijah. We’ve never set boundaries before.”
Those stormy gray eyes are bursting with trouble. But it’s all good. Gabriel doesn’t have a bad bone in his body, although he does have a provocative one, and he’s quick to pounce when the opportunity arises.
I glance back down at my phone, where the text I sent Alex still remains unread.
Why isn’t he responding? We had such an amazing night together. We laughed, flirted, and swapped stories about our careers and our daughters, all while enjoying two bottles of pinot noir with our dinner. It was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. The only mishap was when I reached across the table to hold his hand. He just about choked on his wine. Obviously, he was uncomfortable with my show of affection in public.
I look back up at Gabriel.
“I’m happy to see you are still awake, mi amor.” His tongue grazes across his lips as he takes a seat on the corner of the bed, making himself right at home.
Actually… this is his home.
Gabriel’s fingers curl around my ankle, and his tender touch warms my heart, jarring my wine-soaked brain.
“Mi amor?” he chants as I collect my scattered thoughts—his deep voice wrapping around my fragile heart.
I miss him.
Setting aside my texting for a moment, I drop the phone into my lap and pull the sheet further over my waist. “I was actually out at dinner tonight and just got home about half an hour ago.” I yawn out my words, hoping he takes the hint. I’m not tired. Just want to be left alone.
“Ahh... okay.” He smirks. “You were out with the American model, sí?”
“Cut the shit, Gabriel. You know damn well I was with Alex.”
“Ah sí, Alex… Alex,” he repeats his name, as if he needed a reminder. “He is quite popular in Spain as well. Very sexy, too, I might add.”
Speaking of sexy… when Gabriel speaks English, it’s fucking hot. His words are orgasmic, or at least to my ears they are. His accent is slightly thicker than mine. There’s a stronger, more fluid roll of his tongue.
Christ, that tongue.
“Elijah, mi amor…” He reverts to Spanish.
“Gabriel, please. I’m tired. Is there something you wanted?” I pick up my cell and check one more time for a reply from Alex.
Still nothing.
Gabriel launches into rapid Spanish, casually informing me that he heard from Alex—who’s agreed to let Emilee go to Spain. They’ll be leaving in two weeks.
