“God. Ross,” she gasped, her hands going into his hair and pulling strands. He did his own grunting at the pain and pleasure of it all. He didn’t let up until her breathing reached a pinnacle of hyperventilation and she suddenly arched, moaning something intelligible. Pleasure and satisfaction swirled within him at the knowledge he could steal all her words with nothing but his touch.
“What did you say?” he asked, lifting his head and letting his gaze peruse her spent body.
“I said, you really are a Renaissance man.”
Ross smiled against her stomach. “I’m not done yet.”
“I should hope not,” she said between heavy breaths while reaching for the fly of his pants, and undoing them.
Ross pulled away so he could quickly rifle through the contents of his bedside stand, his panic growing until he was able to locate a single condom.
He finished undressing, rolling on the condom, and resettling on top of her. He paused. His agony and hope had morphed into desperate want, but he was afraid of losing all sense and reason. “Mia—”
“I swear to god, if you keep teasing me…”
He pushed into her and she groaned his name into his ear. There wasn’t any way he was going to maintain any sort of control here. Ross was reduced to pure energy and need. He gave in to the rhythm of her. Either he was hers or she was his. It didn’t matter.
The world had already shifted beneath him and he was in trouble.
Pandora’s box had been opened.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mia kicked upcrisp fall leaves while walking through the parking lot of St. Anthony’s Catholic church, leaving a trail of golden-hued confetti.
“Mia.” Natalie waved from where she stood at a long table in the church’s rec room. Mia approached while undoing her scarf.
“Hi.” She gave her a quick hug as she tried to settle the nerves in her stomach, feeling both excited and anxious that today might be something important but also emotional. “What are you doing? Do you need help with anything?”
Natalie appeared to be in the middle of decorating the table, which was already covered with colorful fabric, various framed photographs, small baskets of fruit, and a smattering of candles. Above the table was a string of papel picado, bright squares of tissue paper with cutout designs. For a spot dedicated to the dead, it was all quite cheerful and bright. Mia set her bag beside the table.
Natalie scanned the room which was already filling up with other people setting up tables and food. “Not sure where my sisters went. You can help me with these tissue paper pom-poms.” She set two small potted marigolds on the table. “One of my younger cousins is learning to drive and he accidentally ran over my grandma’s front yard flower bed. She was so mad, and it’s really hard to find summer flowers this time of the year. My sisters came up with the idea of supplementing our lack of marigolds with tissue paper ones.”
From her bag, Natalie pulled out what appeared to be folded bundles of yellow and orange tissue paper. Mia chose one and followed Natalie’s instructions for pulling out alternate sides until the bundle transformed into a delicate, marigold-like pom-pom.
“These are cute,” Mia said as they taped the pom-poms to the wall around the table.
“It does look pretty nice,” Natalie agreed.
“What’s the significance of marigolds?” she asked, becoming more intrigued.
“El oro de Maria,” said an elderly voice behind her. Turning, Mia found a small, frail older woman beside her.
“The Virgin Mary’s gold,” Natalie translated. “But I’m pretty sure the flowers have been used going all the way back to the Aztec period. It’s the flower of the dead.”
The older woman said something else in Spanish to which Natalie rolled her eyes. “This is my abuelita. She’s complaining that the tissue paper versions don’t have the smell. Apparently, it’s the scent that brings the spirits. They follow it or something.” Natalie responded back to her grandmother. “This is Mia. She doesn’t speak Spanish.”
“No Spanish?” the older woman repeated.
“No. Sorry,” Mia responded. Her cheeks flushed and she was beginning to feel awkward again.
But the older woman smiled. “It’s okay. You did very good on the flowers.”
Natalie laughed. “Yeah, of course, Mia did good.”
Abuelita reached toward Natalie’s shoulder and gave her a small pinch. “Okay, okay, you did good too, querida. Where are your sisters?”
It was at that moment Natalie’s two younger sisters breezed in, chatting a mile a minute. Natalie did all the introductions even though Mia had met one of the sisters once before when she came into the coffee shop. They were both younger than Natalie but Carla was the youngest one. She wore her curly hair in two equally sized buns on top of her head and wore jogger pants and a crop sweatshirt. She looked like an adorable Latina anime character. The other sister was Mariana who had a sharp, sleek bob and wore a weathered leather jacket. She’d be at home as a kickass secret agent in an action movie.
