The couch next to me dips, but I have no idea what Victor is doing until his warm breath finds the hollow of my neck. And it tickles. I giggle and his adorable chuckle answers me. His finger finds my collarbone and traces it, then slowly moves to the valley between my breasts and follows the contours of the peaks over my shirt. The thin material does nothing to prevent me from feeling the burn. Instead of his finger, I imagine it’s a flame playing with my body, scorching me. A flame bursting from the bull’s nostrils. Instead of being scared, I’m aroused and even a bit annoyed at my own reactions.
His fingers roam down to my navel and lift the hem of my shirt. What is he doing? But he only traces circles around my belly button. Suddenly, his lips are on my skin. He kisses all around my stomach, and I’m pretty sure my heart stops working. The contact between his soft lips and my skin is like sunshine suddenly bursting through on a cloudy day. Is it supposed to feel this good? As if I’m flying on a white cloud, delicious as cotton candy, light as a snowflake.
His kisses inch down slowly and my body stiffens. But his lips don’t go down to uncharted territory, and I’m grateful because I’m not ready. He pulls down the hem of my shirt, and I sigh.
His hands move to my hips and down to my knees. He then stops at my feet and massages them.
“Open your eyes, Tia,” he says with a velvet voice.
I flutter my eyes open, and I am met by green eyes full of longing, reflecting the same in my eyes.
Victor has moved to the floor, kneeling next to me. His head is inches away from mine. A smile stretches my mouth, and my eyes drop to his alluring lips, which return the smile.
“If you want me to kiss you, you’ll have to come and take what you want.”
He’s waiting for me to move.
I shouldn’t.
My face is flushed, and I want him… no, I crave him. A moment passes with neither of us moving, simply staring at each other with anticipation. My brain is overanalyzing the situation, sending signals for me to get up and hobble to my room upstairs. But another part of my brain tells me to stay—the irrational part of my brain that acts on impulses and lets this handsome man touch me.
Victor blinks and starts pulling his head back, disappointment evident. My heart clenches and my brain stops working all together.
My hands fly to his neck and pull his head to mine. I press my lips to his, and his mouth parts immediately, his tongue searching for mine. My resistance is nonexistent, and I open for him. As our tongues collide, he groans and moves in closer, which I didn’t think was possible. His fingers delicately trace my arm and shoulder. He pulls away and murmurs something into my neck, his hot breath hitting my sensitive spots.
And I’m lost. I’m back on the white cloud.
“Now that I used my superb seducing skills, will you tell me what’s wrong?” Victor flashes me a victorious smile.
“Oh, that’s what that was. Your attempt at seducing the truth out of me.”
I laugh at his teasing but immediately remember Charlie’s text.
As if Victor detects the distress in my body, he gets up and sits next to me. I pull my legs in to me and hug them.
“Tia, you can trust me. I know you feel it.” He points between him and me with his finger. “If you’re denying it, then you’re lying to yourself.”
I gulp. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“Tell me.” He tugs on my arms, and I look at him.
My desire to share with him is so strong that it overrides my concerns of him getting hurt or his reaction to what I’m about to tell him. I want to share everything with him, and it scares me. A lot.
“Two weeks ago, I came back home to find two men in the living room. One I had seen before, the other one was a total stranger. That guy was holding my mom around the neck and”—I pause to take a breath, reliving the event—“he was squeezing hard. She looked so weak. Desperate. I thought she was about to die.”
And just like that, I tell Victor how I met Charlie for the first time and received the stab wound on my shoulder.
Victor shoots up to his feet and my gaze lifts to study his face. The hate in his eyes tells me he’s ready to kill Charlie.Bad idea. Victor’s hands are in fists and I swear I see steam coming out of his nostrils. He takes deep breaths. I stand and grip his biceps.
“I’ll kill him.” His voice is menacing.
“Not so simple. Charlie has lots of people who protect him. I bet the police are on his payroll, and his dad has his back. You’ll only ruin your life—everything you’ve worked so hard for.”
Victor’s eyebrows crunch up together. “I don’t care.”
“But I do,” I blurt out, and I squeeze his rock-hard arms a little more.
His eyes soften at the edges, but not enough to calm him down. So I lift on my tiptoes and kiss his mouth quickly, gently, insistently. A heavy breath escapes his parted lips. He unclenches his fists and shakes off his hands.
