“Our father had it, and Augustín too. I’m nearly there. Mondragon will never achieve it.”
She didn’t care how sloppy Rafael’s technique might be. She just wanted him to stay alive. “Augustín was supposedly working on a memoir. Have you ever heard anything about it, or know where it might be?”
“I stayed out of his way. He could have been knitting Christmas stockings, and I wouldn’t have known. What does Mrs. Lujan say?”
“She thought it was in the tin box. I’m afraid Carmen might have burned it.”
He nodded. “We’ll have to ask her about it just to see her squirm.” He raised his voice to a rasping soprano: “A memoir? Why no, I know nothing about it.”
Maggie laughed with him and went back outside to sit with Rafael. “I’m hoping to have better luck with this album.”
“At least you know they’re family. I don’t have any pictures of anyone, not even my sister.”
It was made as an offhand comment, but, touched, Maggie reached for his hand. He moved with such pride and confidence, but for an instant he’d let his façade slip, and she’d glimpsed the pain underneath. He’d reject any word of sympathy, so she offered something far better. “I keep thinking about dessert.”
“Let me carry that album upstairs for you.”
“Would you please?”
They walked up the stairs with the quiet steps they’d use to sneak past a sentry and carefully closed the door to Maggie’s room and locked it. Rafael set the album on the dresser and laid Augustín’s journal on top. Before he could turn around, Maggie wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.
“I swear you’re as solid as a tree,” she exclaimed.
“Is that comforting?”
“Yes, it is.” She released him and stepped back. As he turned toward her, the sunlight streaming through the window turned his deep tan gold. She licked her lips as he unbuttoned his shirt and laid it over the chair. She pulled her knit top over her head, and he stepped close to unhook her bra. All his gestures had an easy grace, and she doubted Santos’s assessment of his skill in a bullring could be accurate when there was nothing rough or clumsy about him. She kicked off her sandals and shed her jeans, but left on her lace panties.
“Let me make love to you this time,” she murmured.
He closed his eyes briefly to savor the possibility. “You promise not to get too wild.”
“I’ll restrain myself.” She pulled down the white comforter and flipped the top sheet out of their way. “I don’t think this bed is long enough for you. Why don’t you sit on the side?”
He took the room’s single chair to pull off his boots and socks and stood to peel off his jeans. He pulled a condom from the pocket. “I don’t remember going to sleep last night. Will you wake me if I fall asleep?”
She laughed, certain he wouldn’t even yawn. “No. You sleep through this, you’ve missed your chance.”
“I’ve never slept with a teacher. You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”
She stood back while he sat down on the bed then stepped between his outstretched legs. “So are you.” She framed his face with her hands and kissed his lips lightly before tracing their shape with her tongue. He had a perfect mouth, with a full lower lip made for kissing.
He slid his arms around her waist to pull her close and pressed his hard cock against her belly. She didn’t need to think but just feel his heat. Lost in him, she swayed against him, rubbing side to side. Going up on her toes, she teased the length of him with the soft lace of her panties. His breathing quickened, and she reached for a pillow to cushion her knees.
She knelt between his legs to rub her cheek against his thigh and caught a faint hint of his cologne. Thinking of how he’d marked her, she sucked her own print on his thigh. She needed two hands to grip his thick cock and licked away the drop of moisture at the tip. The head felt silk-soft in her mouth. She looked up at him as she circled the rim with a slow lick, followed by gentle sucking. She strengthened her grip to pulse with his breaths and then slid her hands up and down to stroke him in time with her tender lapping. When she cupped his balls and took him deep, he caught her around the waist to break the link and lifted her astride his lap.
Thrilled by how easy he was to love, she helped him roll down the condom, then pulled her panties aside to guide him and eased down his length with shallow dips. Eager for her kisses, he sucked her tongue, and she twisted her hips to take his shaft deep. Wrapped around him, she rocked against him and tightened her inner muscles to stroke him toward madness or the bliss of release. It was the most delicious sense of power to bring him that joy. She could leap with him into a wave of glorious sensation and know he’d catch her.
With a deep-throated groan, he stood to lay her on the bed. Still joined, he slid his arms under her legs to ease her knees to her breasts and open her fully. His hair fell into his eyes as he watched his cock surge into her. Slowing, he withdrew to the tip, slid his thumb through her slippery wetness and rubbed her clit in time with his strokes. When she came, he leaned down her to capture her joyful cry in a silencing kiss and lost himself deep within her.
Completely sated, Maggie heard a car pull up and dreamily wondered who it was. When the doors slammed, she opened one eye. The sun was setting, the golden light had dimmed, and she was alone in the bed. She heard the shower, but was too lazily content to join Rafael in it. She rolled off the side of the bed to look out the window. Fox and Ana were back and she was carrying a garment bag while he had several shoeboxes.
Maggie went back to bed, pulled the sheet up over her breasts and hoped those things were for Ana, because even if they had bought her a dress, she wouldn’t be able to dance tonight. She doubted she could even walk. Even if she could take a few steps, she’d never make it down the stairs. She smothered a giggle in her pillow. Rafael could probably leap into the air and click his heels, while she preferred to float in a blissful haze that called for nothing more strenuous than breathing. He was an amazing lover and deserved a more complimentary description. Maybe she’d have to invent one when her mind drifted back to her body. If it ever did.
Rafael left the shower and came into her room with a towel wrapped low on his hips. “It’s five o’clock. As soon as I’m dressed, I’ll go downstairs and ask what time dinner is.”
She snuggled deeper into the mattress. “Just bring me something I can sip through a straw.”
He sat down on the side of her bed and ran his hand up her arm. “Have I worn you out again? I’m flattered, of course, but we should eat dinner with the others.”