Page 11 of When Sinners Hate
“No, actually, I’m here to speak with my mother.” He walks right past me.
The calm I’d taken hours to find evaporates.
My steps are heavy and purposeful until I slump down into one of the loungers. “Jerk,” I mutter under my breath.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and the message on the screen helps bring a smile to my lips.
You better not be kidding around. I’m so excited, and your hair will thank me later.
With my entourage booked, I lie back and enjoy the sun for a while and wonder if Abel will come and look for me when he’s finished with his mother.
Of course, he doesn’t, so I grow restless and agitated and finally go and look for him.
He’s in the dining room with his phone out, so I decide to make a nuisance of myself.
“I thought we could stay in tonight. Get to know each other.” I trail my finger over the back of the chair he’s sitting in and come around to take mine next to him.
“We’ll go out. I’ve had enough of being here for one day.” He stands immediately, as if being this close is too close.
His attitude is the final straw in my bad mood for today. “First, I don’t get to stay with you. Then we don’t get a honeymoon, and now you’re not even letting us get to know each other. How is this marriage going to work?” I look up at him to see if I need to push a little harder.
“I thought you heard me earlier. You’ll be a Cortez and do as you’re told.”
“Will you tell me to fuck myself, or will you be stepping up to fulfil that role at any point?”
His brow cocks. “Is that what this is about? You want to fuck?”
I stand and close the distance between us, wanting to be close enough to touch him – to kiss him. “Well, as my husband, I want to make sure you can satisfy me. I enjoy sex, and as you seem to be stopping me from enjoying anything else in this relationship, it’s my last hope.” My lips pop as I emphasise the last word, and I look up and wait for him to react.
He’s hard to read because he’s so still and shows no emotion. Not like his other brother, who seems brimming with emotional tension.
Most men I’ve been with haven’t even waited to try taking advantage. They jump the gun, and before they know it, they’re on their back and I’m having the fun I want. This man is different. And it’s strangely attractive. There’s an unknown between us that sets a quicker beat to my heart.
My hands rest on his chest and slide up and over his shoulders. I telegraph the move and wait for him to catch up, but it’s like I’m seducing a statue.
“Come on, Abel. One kiss,” I purr at his neck.
My tongue slips free, and I lick at his throat. Salt and musk mix and spark on my tongue, and the urge to sink my teeth into his skin swarms over me. So, I do.
My teeth press firmly against him while my hands grip his shoulders, and he finally reacts.
He seizes my wrists in a harsh grip and flings me off him. “Bitch!”
My smile is triumphant as I’ve finally pushed the right button. “Don’t like it rough? That’s okay. I’ll be gentle with you.”
He rubs his neck where I can see a little redness start to bloom. A light smile emerges, and he shakes his head a little. I don’t know why he’s the one smiling, but I don’t like it and step back towards him. My hands angle his face as I kiss him, pulling his lips down towards mine. I’m not soft or kind, but rough and punishing, and he meets my force with his own, but it heats in seconds, burning hot and fast.
Finally, his hands come into play, and he holds my shoulders as he moves us towards the nearest wall – pinning me against it. I wrangle in his grasp before he can press his weight against me, not wanting to be at his mercy, and we begin an awkward and fierce tango of moves to assert dominance.
The kiss continues, but it grows in aggression as we’re pressing and pulling. Our arms explore, looking to command and hold the other, and it just sends the need simmering inside me to the next level.
He uses his weight and shoves me harder into the wall, so my teeth press down and bite his lip until I can taste the copper tang. There's no complaint from him, but he pulls back and wipes the blood from his mouth.
“Sorry. I know you don’t like red on my lips.”
I lick the blood from them as I take a moment to catch my breath. I know this is all foreplay. It’s fun, and exciting, but I feellike we’re simply saying hello, perhaps in the most truthful way since we met.
“That was fucking stupid of you.”