Dancing in a Hurricane (24 page)

Estelle cleared her throat.

Rico glanced at her.

She had that warning look in her eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed, but he felt embarrassment flare up his neck.

Estella walked them to the door. "Drive safely."

"Yes, Mrs. Doria."

The door closed behind them as they walked down the porch steps and Marisa linked her arm through his. "Yes, Mrs. Doria."

"Don't start, Riss."

"I'm teasing. I thought you were darling, sucking up to my parents."

He opened the passenger door for her. "To get you alone, beautiful? Just name it, I'll do it."

She smiled and slid onto the big bench seat and he caught another sexy glance of her long legs. He walked around the car and got in.

She pushed up the armrest and buckled herself in the middle. "Too close?" Her grin turned wicked.

"Baby, not close enough." He started to lean over to kiss her but glanced at the Doria home. He turned the ignition and drove a few blocks to the city park. Pulling into the empty lot, he killed the motor and slid his hand onto the nape of her neck. Her short, silky hair teased his knuckles. He leaned closer, breathing deeply of her dark scent, patchouli and something else sensual. His belly tightened as he stared into her eyes, judging her mood.

She leaned into him, gently touching her lips on his, pressing her breast against his chest.

He liked a woman who announced her desire. He slanted his lips over hers, their tongues dancing. His body throbbing with need.  

"Rico," she whispered against his lips.

"Yes?"

"I'm not wearing panties."

Instantly hard, he looked around the dark, quiet lot and slid a hand up her thigh. His thumb touched her bare pussy and he jerked with the frantic craving to be inside her. "Baby, we're going to my place." He handed her his cell phone. "Call Élian and tell him we're lost."

"Uh uh!" She pushed at the hand holding the phone. "You need to feed me first. Then we can talk about later."

Had Marisa become a prick tease? He leaned back in his seat. "Baby, see this?" He opened his jacket. "It won't go down until I'm done pleasing you."

She reached over and grabbed his cock through his pants. "Would a blowjob do for now?"

Chapter Seventeen

Rico's vision swam as every ounce of blood left his brain and headed for his lap.

Marisa freed him, her smile turning to surprise as she stroked his length. "You're big," she murmured and immediately wrapped her lips around him.

He nearly yelled. He'd wanted her for so long, now she was every sexual fantasy come to life. His muscles heated and tensed as she showed him her exceptional talent. Her mouth sucking strong, taking him deep, her fingers touching his balls softly. He shuddered. That tongue, she traced around the top of his shaft, let her circled fingers work the length of his cock.

His brain shut down completely as hot surges pulsed in his lower back. He couldn't hold on. "Baby, I'm there…" He wanted to give her time to back off, but she deep throated him. He shot into her like a twelve gauge. She swallowed, milked him, licked the last glistening drop off his head, and sat back. He pulled her into his arms.

"Marisa." My heart. He couldn't say it out loud. Not yet. She needed time to catch up to the way he felt.

"Rico. I've wanted to do that for fifteen years."

"What?" He blinked, focusing on her face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were younger." She carefully zipped and buckled him. "A lot younger," she continued, tucking his shirt back into his pants.

"Only six years."

"Yeah, you were in middle school when I was a senior in high school. I would have been arrested."

He smiled and kissed her. "I would have bailed you out."

"How nice," she smirked. "Your girlfriend, the felonious child debaucher."

"I see what you mean. But when you came back from college—"

"You were in high school." She ran her hand up the front of his shirt. "And you were still Sixto's friend. He would have tweaked out."

"He's okay with us now."

"We're adults." She unbuttoned one button at his collar and played with his chest hair. "And he's got his hands full with Bree."

He sat back, looked at her, and grabbed her hand from inside his shirt. "Why are you bringing that up?"

She narrowed her gaze at him. "Sixto's into Bree isn't he?"

Rico lifted his arm from around Marisa's shoulders and started the engine. "Maybe."

"Rico, if you want any more of this…" She touched his fly. "You'll tell me the truth."

He put on his seatbelt. "I got off tonight. I don't need anything else from you." He couldn't suppress a smile.

She laughed. "You're mercenary, aren't you."

Mercenary? No. If he was, he'd let Élian and Sixto fight it out over Bree. But Sixto wanted the girl, and she would be perfect for Sixto. He turned to face Marisa. He'd tell her the truth and trust her to handle this carefully. "Your brother is afraid of the feelings he has for Bree."

Her face sobered. "I knew he was in deep with her." She sat back, her brows drawn together.

Rico pulled the car onto the street and headed for the restaurant. "Not much we can do."

"You're right. If we try to force something, it will go wrong."

He glanced at her. "I'm impressed. The first woman I've met who isn't trying to manipulate people's lives."

"But I think we should try to convince Bree and Élian that they're wasting time."

He threw his hands up. "There's the manipulation."

She glanced at him, her eyes looked worried. "We can't let Élian fall in love with Bree when I know she's got feelings for Sixto."

"How do you know she's got feelings for…Never mind." He heaved out a sigh. "You're probably right. A relationship between Bree and Élian would come between him and Sixto."

Marisa rubbed her palms together. "I have a plan."

"I knew you would. You're cunning."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "That's because I'm older and wiser."

"Baby, if you're old, give me another fifty years of this and I'll be a happy man."

She pressed her hand over his heart. "Is that a proposal?"

He wanted this woman. Did he love her? Maybe. "Let me feed you and take you home with me." He glanced sideways at her. "I'll let you know in the morning."

She slapped his chest lightly. "You're going to have a night you'll never forget."

Damn, his cock pressed hard against his zipper again.

***

Bree and Élian arrived early at the restaurant and with sat in the bar having a drink. Marisa and Rico walked in looking like they were already drunk, but as Bree watched them, she realized they were all sexed up, staring into each other's eyes, unable to keep their hands off each other. It might have been embarrassing if it wasn't so fascinating to watch.

Supper was more of the same, as if she and Élian were alone. The other two acted like mating ferrets, rubbing noses and God knows what else under the table. Marisa asked her to go to the bathroom with her and they walked to the women's room on the far side of the building, past the bar.

Slicking on lip-gloss, Marisa asked, "Bree, do you like Élian?"

She looked into her friend's eyes in the mirror. "I do. He's very nice."

"But does he…you know…get you hot?"

Was she drunk? "I don't need hot, Marisa. I'm looking for an emotional connection, not a physical hookup."

"I know, but if you want to marry a man and have his children—"

"Stop right there." She turned to face her. "This is our first date. I'm not trying to catch Élian, if that's what you're worried about."

"No." She gestured dismissively with one hand. "I'm not worried about him."

"Then why these questions?"

"I'm going to be blunt." She stepped closer, her eyes intense. "I've seen the way my brother looks at you and the way you look at him."

Oh, crap. "It's not—"

Marisa shook her head. "Bree, don't try to deny it. You two are wound so tightly around each other, you're damn near choking."

Were her feelings that transparent? Sixto wouldn't have told his sister this very personal information, would he? "You've only seen us together a few times."

"Rico and I put it all together, but—"

"Rico?" Her voice rose as confusion muddled her thoughts. What did he know? Did Sixto say something to
him
?

"If Sixto asked you out, if he was the one here tonight—"

"He's not here, Marisa." Bree's patience snapped. "And he will never ask me out." She was ashamed to have tears in her eyes. "He's looking for a lover—no, not even a lover—he's only looking for a sex partner."

Marisa's eyes opened wide. "He told you that?"

She glanced down at her sandals. "Yes. And I respect that degree of honesty." She met Marisa's eye. "But I had to be honest, too. I told him I'm looking for more, I'm looking for a man to be with for the rest of my life." She blew out a breath. "I've only been with…" She had revealed too much already. "Never mind." She stepped toward the exit door.

"You've only been with one man, and you were engaged to him. Yes, I know."

Bree swung around. "You know?" Her voice squeaked. This was surreal. Was she actually having this profound conversation in a public bathroom? "How did you know?"

Marisa looked flustered. "Sixto told Rico." She shrugged. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

A tick started in Bree's eyelid. Sixto knew, Rico knew, Marisa knew. And they talked about it behind her back. "Does Élian know?"

"No. At least…" She made a face and glanced up at the ceiling. "I don't think he does." She shook her head. "I can't keep track anymore."

Bree wanted to cry. And laugh. And scream. This wasn't a bad soap opera, this was her life, her future. Her instinct was to run, but she would stay and get this cleared up and put to rest. "I'm holding out for the whole package, Marisa. Love, marriage, a family."

"You told Sixto this before the day I met you?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Hold on a minute." Marisa walked into a stall, pressing buttons with her thumbs.

Bree went into a stall. Damn, that woman was nosy. And who was she texting from a bathroom? She hung her purse…then, like a splash of ice water, it all made sense. Was Marisa texting Rico? Was this a tag-team interrogation? She blasted back out of the stall.

Marisa stood by the door, holding her phone, looking a little too innocent.

"What are you and Rico doing?" Bree quickly washed and dried her hands and grabbed the door handle.

Marisa stood in front of the door. "I'd like to talk to you about that." She dropped her phone into her purse. "Let's stop at the bar for a shot of something."

Bree paused. Oh, God, what was happening back at the table? "What is Rico telling him?"

"It's not like that, Bree—"

"Out of my way. Please." She glared at the woman whom she'd thought was a friend.

Marisa stepped back and pulled her phone out of her purse, typing furiously.

Bree marched back through the bar and across the restaurant to their table. Élian's face was pale as she came up behind Rico, who ignored his binging phone and said, "…and Sixto is interested in her, but he's afraid—"

She barged in between the two men. "Afraid of what, Rico?"

"Afraid of…spiders."

She glared at him.

He didn't have the decency to look ashamed.

"Bastard," she whispered.

She turned her back to him. "Élian, I'm sorry, would you please take me home."

He stood, looking around her at Rico. "Man, are you sure?"

Bree looked at Rico, who nodded. "Sorry, brother."

Élian seemed to deflate. He silently walked Bree to his car, opened the passenger door for her, and got in behind the wheel.

She put her hand on his.

He jerked back and stared at her.

"Please, Élian, let's talk about this. Tell me what he said."

"You've got to understand something. We're the kind of friends who never let a woman come between us." He started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

"You and Sixto?"

He nodded. "Whatever is between you—"

"Nothing!" She shouted then calmed her voice. "There's nothing. He's interested in sex. That's all."

"There's more."

"Yes, he likes my personality, but that's it. He's not going to settle down, Élian. And…I want to." Despair clutched at her chest and her voice wavered. Why couldn't Sixto be ready for more? Why couldn't her heart leap when she saw Élian, the way it did when Sixto smiled at her?