Rock Chick Regret
Page 67

“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
I didn’t share that I did feel okay. In fact, it might be the first time I felt “okay” in my life. In that bed, in that room, in that house with Hector, I felt I was where I was supposed to be.
Where I belonged.
The drowning sensation hit me, the warm water lapping at my body, threatening to cover me and I had the strange desire to pull in my breath… and sink.
Before this could weird me out (and I did anything stupid), he rolled us, we disconnected, he ended up on his back, me on top, our legs tangled. His body bucked and he yanked the bedclothes from under us and whipped them on top.
I lifted my head and one of his hands came to my hair. He pulled out the ponytail holder and my hair fell down around us. He tossed the ponytail holder on the nightstand and his fingers went inside my camisole then stilled at my sides.
“I wanna take this off,” he murmured.
As an answer, before I chickened out, I did the same thing he did earlier, arching my back and lifting my arms. He tugged off the camisole and threw it to the floor at the side of the bed.
I settled, skin-against-skin, chest-to-chest and his heat was overwhelming, penetrating my body, warming me straight to the core.
He pulled the covers high over my back then his hands slid down to my bottom and cupped me there.
I tucked my face into his neck, his warmth and my sensation of okayness settled in my belly then in my chest, right by my heart.
Softly, I whispered, “Thank you.”
His hands moved from my bottom so his arms could wrap tight around my waist.
This was nice, except his body was moving as if he was laughing.
My body got stiff.
“What’s funny?” I asked his neck.
“Mamita, you just gave me the best gift anyone’s ever given me and you’re thankin’ me?” he replied.
Oh… my… God!
He didn’t just say that.
Did he just say that?
“Are you for real?” I breathed, it came right out of my mouth and I knew I sounded like an idiot but I really did want to know.
His arms got tighter and his body started shaking harder.
My head lifted and I looked at him. He was smiling, brilliant white and glamorous.
“What’s funny now?” I demanded, my eyes narrowed.
His hilarity became vocal and he burst out laughing. I didn’t find anything was funny (at all) so I slapped his shoulder. He rolled us to our sides and shoved his (still laughing) face in my neck.
“Stop laughing,” I ordered.
He kept laughing.
“Seriously, Hector,” I warned him. “I’m getting annoyed.”
His face came out of my neck and when I caught sight of it, he was still smiling.
“Well then, mi cielo, we’ll have to do somethin’ about that,” he announced, rolling us again, him on top.
Then his hands started moving on me.
“What are you…?” I tried to pull away from him but one of his arms locked tight and held me close. I looked at his grinning face but read his intent loud and clear.
He couldn’t be serious. Could he?
“We can’t have sex again,” I told him in the Voice of Authority. “We just finished five minutes ago.”
His mouth went to my shoulder then trailed up, he added his tongue when it got to my neck and I shivered.
At my ear, he muttered, “Is that a rule?”
“No, it’s not a rule. It’s physically impossible,” I informed him, sounding vaguely Ice Princess but Know-It-All Ice Princess this time.
His lips came to mine and he looked into my eyes.
His were warm and intense. Really warm and intense.
Oh my.
“We’ll work up to it,” he murmured right before he kissed me.
Then we did.
* * * * *
I felt the slap of cold that didn’t go away even when the covers were tucked tight around me.
When the tucking stopped, I opened my eyes and slightly lifted my head. It was still dark and I could hear Hector moving in the room.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, my voice scratchy with sleep.
I felt the bed move when Hector’s weight hit it. He sat, pulled my hair away from my neck and leaned in.
“Doorbell. I’ll take care of it. Go back to sleep,” he answered, kissed my neck right where it met my shoulder then the bed moved again as he got up. I watched his shadow walk across the room while tugging on the thermal and he disappeared into the darkness.
I rearranged the pillows (Hector was a serious pillow hog), two beneath my head, one I held tight to my belly. I settled in thinking that Gloria and her posse were back for another try at some hot tub action.
Then I thought that it might be fun to sit in Hector’s hot tub with Gloria and her posse.
Then I thought it might be more fun to sit in Hector’s hot tub with Hector.
Then I fell back to sleep.
* * * * *
The covers slid off my shoulder and I could feel the heat and soft touch of a hand taking them away.
“Sadie?” Hector called.
My eyes opened. “What?” I muttered.
“Wake up, mamita, the Zanos are here.”
I blinked in the darkness. Then I got up on an elbow, holding the covers over my chest.
I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was still half-asleep. I could have sworn he just told me the Zanos were there in the middle of the blooming, blooming night.
“What?” I asked.
“Get dressed, the Zanos are here,” he repeated. “We gotta talk.”
He did say the Zanos were there.
I sat up fully and held the covers against me with one hand, pulled my hair out of my face with the other. Hector had moved from sitting on the bed. He was bent over, gathering my clothes from the floor.
“What are the Zanos doing here?” I asked.
Hector handed me my clothes. “Just get dressed, preciosa. We’ll talk downstairs.”
The serious tone of his voice meant I should probably not take this as happy news.
Though what middle of the night visits were ever happy news? Except, of course Gloria and her girls’ bid for the hot tub, that wasn’t exactly happy (for Hector) but I found it humorous.
I decided to do as asked. First, he’d just called me “preciosa” something I liked (a lot) and even though I figured I knew what that meant, I still added a call to Jet on my Mental To-Do List for the morning to see where that ranked in Spanish endearments. Second, I wanted to find out what trauma was about to befall me now so I could deal with it and maybe get some sleep before the next one.