Page 114 of The Bronze Garza
“Uh-huh?”
“Am I...” Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I push past the blush and finish the question. “...mind-blowing?”
“No.”
The unhesitant, thoughtless, and solid delivery of the word feels like a punch to the gut. It’s deserved. I know better than to ask questions I don’t really want the answers to.
This one I could’ve guessed on my own, but I was hopeful. I’m nothing special. Have zero sexual skills or experience beyond fighting depraved devils off me. And during sex, he does most of the work to be honest, blowing my mind, so I really shouldn’t feel slighted.
It might take a while to get me to a point where I can blow his mind for a change. Maybe it’s time to go back to reading steamy romance novels, pick up a few tricks.
I don’t follow up on the question. If it’s not mind-blowing, then I don’t want to know.
“Saw your vision board,” he says.
“What?”
“At your house. In your room. When I was searching for clues that would indicate if you disappeared on your own and didn’t want to be found before I agreed to the job,” he explains. “I saw your vision board. You had dreams. Have you stopped dreaming?”
“I have.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized that, in the grand scheme of things, none of it matters. None of what we spend our lives chasing, working hard toward, or holding out for, matters. We’re all just players in a cruel game. And some of us are lucky, fortunate. Some...not so much.”
After a long moment, he asks, “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, hating this avenue we’re on. Wanting to go back to the one where we enjoy each other’s bodies. Sex-crazed and obsessive. “Whatever life thinks I deserve I’ll take it. No complaints.”
He mutters something in another language. Italian, maybe. But I don’t ask what it means. If he wanted me to know, he’d have said it in English.
“Are you going to tell my father?” I ask the sky. “About this?”
“Yes.”
Not expecting that answer, I turn my face from the sky to him, and find him ogling my breasts. “You’re serious?”
“I don’t omit,” he says simply, still preoccupied with my tits. “It’s a rule I live by with my clients.”
“B-But aren’t you worried he’ll be pissed?”
“He should be.” Using the mouth of the beer bottle, he shifts the triangle of my bikini top so my nipple pops out. “He hired me to keep you safe, not fuck you out on the sea.”
“You haven’t fucked me out on the sea.”
He pours a splash of beer on my nipple. “Yet.”
“Won’t it be bad for business if this gets out?”
“Every action has a consequence.” Lifting the bottle of beer above my torso, he pours the entire thing on me this time, then throws the empty bottle overboard. “I prepare for every possible consequence before I act.”
Shivers shoot up my spine when he lowers his head and begins licking the beer off me. Just like that, I’m a goner. Delicious desire unfurling in my belly, I close my eyes and arch into him.
“Oh god,” I gasp as he swirls his tongue around my exposed nipple. “We can’t...we can’t do this out here.”
His hand shifts down between my thighs and cups me. “Shy?”
On a spike of pleasure, my eyes snap open and I jerk up onto my elbows, glancing around. We’re well out on the ocean, but we aren’t the only ones. And sure, the other boats are nowhere near us, butdronesare a thing. I’m notthislevel of uninhibited yet, so I answer, “A little, yes.”
