Page 57 of Game of Revenge

“Let me see,” I said, lifting the right side of his shirt. His bandage looked new.

“You changed it?”

“Yes, and before you ask, I took the medication this morning, except for the one that makes me sleep.”

Feeling guilty, I rolled my eyes. Alejandro got up and grabbed my face in his hands. Before I could object, he kissed me sweetly but possessively. His kiss was slow and strong, surprising me with the intensity and overwhelming emotions it was raising in me.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he said.

“You saved mine,” I whispered, eyes slightly closed, breathing him in.

“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” His guttural tone made me tremble.

I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. I pressed myself against him, enjoying the feeling of melting in his embrace. He deepened the kiss––his tongue, hot and wet, getting more and more demanding.

I could feel his erection, long and strong against me.

And I wanted it.

I wanted to stroke it, lick it. I wanted him to slide inside of me so badly I felt desperate for it.

I heard Alejandro slightly wince, and I leaned back a bit.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,'' he muttered, pulling me back to him, possessively grabbing my lips again, parting them with his impatient tongue. Alejandro’s cell phone rang.

“Damn it,” he grunted against my lips. I was grateful for the interruption to compose myself, even with all the pent-up frustration. If he kept going, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. A girl could only take so much, though. Alejandro answered the phone, and it sounded like it was Marcos giving him an update. I took advantage of this distraction to leave him alone.

Chapter 24

We had been in this house for well over ten days now. The doctor had stopped insisting that he take the sleeping pills a couple of days ago, in part because he had thrown the rest of them at the wall, threatening to leave and go “wherever the hell he wanted” if he had to stay in this “fucking bed” any longer.

Alejandro had, for the most part, stayed in bed, and I acknowledged that he seemed almost fully recovered. The wound was healing well and quickly, and there had been no further bleeding or fever.

For most of the week, Alejandro had tried to have serious conversations with me. He wanted to discuss what had happened in his house. I had been avoiding them like the plague. All I wanted was for him to heal and get better. I didn’t care about anything else—not Karina, not Elena, not my kidnapping. I feared that if we talked, everything would change.

Eventually, we got into a comfortable routine––when Alejandro wasn’t drugged out––where we would talk about our passions. He even continued teaching me how to play chess. We were stuck in an amazing lull where nothing else mattered.

It didn’t matter that he had kidnapped me; it didn’t matter that a cop had tried to kill me; and it didn’t matter that, sooner rather than later, this very unusual situation would have to come to an end one way or another. I was enjoying letting myself take care of him and getting to know him.

I realized that the more time we spent with each other, the more confused I was, but for now, all those emotions were shoved to the bottom of my heart, and I was, for once in my life, taking life day by day.

Against all my resolve, when I heard his voice calling for me, I ran to his bedroom. He was standing there in front of his desk, so I went to his side.

“We need to talk,” said Alejandro with a serious frown, a shadow over his face. “But coffee first.”

“I will go make it,” I said, rushing past him as he tried to leave the room.

“Amelia…”

“No, the doctor said you have to rest. You shouldn’t even be up on your feet this much.”

“I feel fine. I am perfectly capable of going to my own kitchen” he retorted, frustrated.

I felt a sudden rush of fear run all the way up my body.

“No! You have no idea how bad you were just a few days ago. You were sweating, trembling…you were dying! And if something happens to you, I don’t…I don’t know what…”