After a few seconds, her expression softened.
"Where did you get them?"
"From a... friend."
"With friends like that," she said, laughing bitterly. "You are well aware pictures can be doctored."
There wasn't the time or place to get into an argument. I pulled out my wallet, selecting a credit card. "Take this for your purchases. You can buy anything that you want, but please make certain that you select some evening attire including shoes."
"Does that mean we'll be going out?" She eyed the card before moving closer and snatching it from my hand.
"I will enjoy sharing my beautiful city with you. You're not a prisoner, Valencia."
"As you said." She fisted the plastic, stepping several feet away from me. "No wedding dress yet?"
The rhetorical question didn't deserve an answer. Not at this point. "We will be going out to dinner tonight. However, I will make sure groceries are purchased."
"Pizza and beer?"
"Is that what you'd prefer?"
She opened her mouth as if to mutter yet another nasty retort then exhaled, looking away from me. Her mouth twisted, her chest rising and falling. When she finally spoke, her words were full of sadness. "There's a little place in Cuba that used to serve the best pizza I'd ever had, the crust chewy with a melt in your mouth flavor. You could smell the garlic from a mile away, the sauce they used just incredible, fragrant and delicious. The mushrooms were succulent, the pepperoni and sausage spicy. They also had a tiny little brewery. It's funny but I never enjoyed beer until going there. Everything was perfect from the atmosphere to the location. Just a cheap little joint, you know? The owner and his son worked there, trying to make ends meet. They had a single waitress, a young girl who was just as feisty as I was. Just amazing."
I was able to envision the off the beaten path restaurant, allowing my imagination to capture a moment spent with Valencia. No bodyguards. No danger. Two people enjoying spending time together. I clenched my fist, realizing that my life was far too complex.
"You make that sound like the restaurant doesn't exist any longer."
"It doesn't," she said in a faraway voice. "Destroyed. I'd heard some terrible things and finally went to see for myself. Everything was gone, the place boarded up. I asked the villagers what happened, and no one seemed to know. I was... devastated." She rubbed two fingers across her lips before shooting me another harsh glare. "However, that was ages ago. The past. Who cares now?"
"Sounds very special," I managed, noticing the mist in her eyes, "and I can understand why that would bother you."
"I can't see you at a place like that. You're far too... sophisticated. Suave." She gave me a slight smile.
I chuckled given the way she said the words, exaggerating her Spanish accent. "I'll have you know that I thoroughly enjoy finding a tiny little hole in the wall gem where you can relax and not have to pretend to be somebody you're not."
"Is that what you do, pretend?"
I had to think about her question. "Don't we all?"
Valencia nodded several times. "Sadly, I've learned the hard way not to get attached to anything or anyone so pretending is a way of life. Not worth it fighting for what you want."
I closed the distance, allowing my fingers to trace down the line of her arms, my breath skipping from the sensations rocketing through me. Seeing the goosebumps forced my cock to full attention.
She leaned forward, her delicate fingers crumpling around my shirt. The slight moan escaping her lips was far too enticing, the way her luscious lips pursed a clear invitation to ravage her.
I pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger, lowering my head until I was able to brush my lips across her flushed cheek. "Be careful today. I don't want anything to happen to you."
Sighing, she rose onto her tiptoes, her fingers crawling up to my neck, her back arching in an attempt to get closer. "You're a formidable man, Miguel. If you'd allow your guard to fall, you'd be so easy to love."
I captured her mouth, unable to keep from sliding my hand down her back and cupping her rounded bottom. She wiggled when I tugged on the hem of the sundress, pressing my finger into the cleft of her ass. When I gave the plug a twist, her entire body quivered in my hold. After pulling on the end, I thrust the plug in and out several times, my cock aching to the point of raw pain.
The feel of her heated body against mine was incredible, driving the savage hunger back to the surface. I dominated her tongue, drinking in her divine essence while longing to have my face buried in her sweet pussy. I continued driving the plug in brutally, my thoughts drifting to shoving her over the edge of my desk.
Unfortunately, time was of the essence. I broke the connection, biting down on her lower lip before pulling away completely and smacking her ass cheeks twice.
Her face remained flushed, the color blossoming along her cheeks like the petals of a delicate rose.
"Good girl. You're wearing your plug." I expected a snappy retort.
Valencia smoothed down her dress, laughing softly. "I can follow orders, sir."
Goddamn, I wanted the woman.
She gave me a final nod before heading out of the room. Her sad words from earlier lingered, much like her words of love, furrowing into my very soul. I wanted to wrap her up in warmth, showing her that I was capable of providing what she needed; however, I couldn't trust my own emotions. At least I had an answer about the boy in the photograph. Had her father killed him because of their relationship? It was a development to keep in mind. "Miguel! What are you doing here?"
Seeing my mother's face always brought a smile, no matter the circumstances. She rushed toward me as if she hadn't seen me in weeks, her embrace tighter than usual. "Just a meeting with Dad," I countered, although she knew very well that I'd been summoned.
She laughed, the lilting sound more casual than I was used to. "Don't let him bite you today. Your father is in one of his moods."
"Isn't he always?"
My mother was a proud woman, her attire always beautiful and her graceful actions a constant reminder that there was so much good in the world. Today, she seemed a bit more harried than normal, her words clipped as if they held some alternative meaning. Even her manner of dress was off, although I couldn't put my finger on why.
She darted a glance over her shoulder at my father's closed office door, lowering her voice before speaking. Her grip on my arms remained firm but I could easily tell she was shaking. "Your father had a doctor's appointment today. It didn't go very well. Please don't tell him I told you."
"What's wrong?"