CHAPTER 11
Elena
Addler takes me for an unexpected tour of the house. I realize why his parents moved from their wing as soon as we enter the first room. The second floor has a sunroom that offers a panoramic view of the surroundings.
“My father had the wall torn down and made this into a studio.” His mom set several easels around the room. The work in progress is carefully covered while she’s away. As much as I want to peek, I know she wouldn’t appreciate having someone look at an unfinished piece.
The library and den are next door, with an office area he somehow forgot to mention. The walls are lined with paintings.
“That’s Jorge and Ines Torres, my great-grandparents.” The family who owned the ranch. “Lupita and Roman, my grandparents.” The couple from the story. I study the man’s face and find traces of Addler in his features. “And then there’s my parents, Leonardo and Lilian Marie.” His mother’s signature sits at the lower corner of each.
“I’m surprised these aren’t downstairs, where everyone can see them.”
“Mom has a public side and a private side,” he shares. “While we do have infrequent visitors, these are only for family.”
A sense of peace settles over me. I somehow feel privileged to have him showing me something so private.
We continue through to the entertainment room that is set up for cards, pool, and video games. It opens up to a wine room, shared by a movie room with twenty seats. No wonder the de Marcos are never seen in town. There are more things available in their own home than in Nueces.
I wouldn’t have imagined anyone having an entire house attached to two others. Yet, somehow this makes sense.
Once we’ve walked through the rest of the house, he leads me upstairs in his wing. Time has been crawling by since we made the agreement, and it suddenly jumped to a sprint.
The hand at the base of my spine does as much to steady me as it does to make my legs weak. My mouth is suddenly dry, my panties not so much. I have no idea what I’m in for. I know what to expect, yet I don’t, and that has my stomach in knots. If rumors are anywhere near true, his experience far outreaches anything I could come up with on my own.
He flips the light on, and I’m left speechless. His bedroom, the only one we’ve seen, is at least three times the size of mine. Nearly half the size of our entire house. The furniture consists of antiques in a natural wood grain with dark handles. The door to the en-suite bathroom and what appears to be a large closet match the rest of the decor.
My heart racing, I step in, sinking into the plush carpet. A cowboy hat sits on the dresser. Something I can’t quite imagine him wearing. I run my finger along the brim and manage a smile. Addler always seemed more city than country despite generations of his family owning a cattle ranch.
That only leaves the bed to inspect. A king-size mattress with a solid wooden frame and shelves built into the headboard. He actually has books there, which seems out of character for the guy I knew back then.
I can’t help but stare at the place Addler sleeps every night. The bedding is pristine. I can’t tell if Mayela changed the sheets or if he’s already slept here. If so, on which side.
Feeling like a complete noob, I turn to Addler, wanting to know what he expects from me.
The shirt he’s wearing is halfway unbuttoned, showing off his torso. He pulls the shirttails out of his jeans, unveiling his body like a Broadway production. Drawing his arm from the sleeve, he pulls the whole thing off, tossing it onto the bench at the end of the bed.
I am left speechless at the sight of his chest. Broad. Muscled. Rugged. I was always conscious of the breadth of his shoulders when we were in school together. But my inexperienced brain didn’t take it this far. Much less to the point where he’s popped the button on his jeans open and is pulling down the zipper.
“Oh,” he says, an eyebrow raised in interest. “You like to watch.” A confident grin spreads across his face. “So do I.”
My face goes up in flames.
My brain says my attention should be anywhere but on him. Yet, how am I supposed to ignore him when every inch of his body is now etched into my memory? Bronze, sun-kissed skin to lighter areas that have been kept covered to various degrees. The pool? The beach? He’s always so properly dressed; I can’t picture him anywhere so casual. But I couldn’t look away if I tried.
Tossing the rest of his clothes on the bench, one piece at a time, he’s left completely naked. Unperturbed, he walks to the headboard, his arousal leading the way.
“Good Lord,” I mutter under my breath. He pulls back the covers and settles in against the pillow. Then it hits me. He likes to watch, too. The sensation of having a spotlight aimed at me is back, full force. My toes curl, and I suddenly go blank.
“You can drop your things on the other side of the bench.” He leans back, making himself comfortable, waiting for me to undress.
“Lights on, huh?” I hope beyond hope that he’ll say we don’t need them on.
“Yup,” he replies with amusement at the edge of his lips. “It’s only fair.”
Only fair… I want to point out that nothing about this is fair. Or at least, I want to protest about what he’s having me do. No saying no. His words echo in my head, making it clear there was no saying no to whatever he wants this weekend.
I swallow hard and pull my blouse over my head. This kicks up a whole other level of anxiety. I’ve slimmed down considerably since we last saw each other. Although I’m a healthy weight, I’m sure I’m a far cry from the women he’s dated. I think I heard about a model and an heiress or two. I’m nowhere near either station.