Page 22 of Just for the Holidays
“The Chantilly cream for the tres leches,” he reminded her, pointing at the mixing bowl of snowy-white whipped cream. She handed it over distractedly as she looked out the window.
“Is something wrong? Did you hear from Carmelina?” He wasn’t sure how things stood with Perla and her mother, but their relationship had always been strained. Especially around the holidays. She shook her head in response and looked up at him with those sad gray eyes.
“My mom’s barely talking to me these days. She didn’t take it well when I sold my shares to help Esmeralda.”
“I can imagine.”
He’d heard about that. It had been all over the news when Perla’s half sister took over as president of the studio, and Rodrigo Almanzar, the former chief content officer, was officially appointed by the board as CEO of Sambrano. Rodrigo had a long history with the Sambranos, but it had surprised everyone when it leaked that Perla had sold her stake in the family business to him. Carmelina Sambrano, Perla’s mother, was as blue blood as they came. Her very conservative Latin family owned a chain of high-end restaurants, which was now apparently in financial trouble. And it certainly would not have made her happy to lose access to her daughter’s fortune in company shares.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, finding it increasingly harder to see her upset and not be able to do anything about it.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your charity? That you give dinners to families for the holidays?” she asked almost in an accusatory tone, her eyes flashing with something that looked like genuine hurt.
This was what had her upset?He sighed, silently cursing his sister and her big mouth. “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to impress you with my ‘good deeds.’”
“Impress me? Gael,you’rethe movie star.”
“That’s not who I am to you, though. I’m just Gael from Bridgeport to you.”
“You’ve never beenjustanything to me, Gael.” The way she said it, like it was the last thing she wanted to come out of her mouth but she couldn’t keep it inside anymore, rocked him.
“Why are you really here, Perla?” he asked, even if he knew the answer would only make things worse.
She eyed him as she worked on making caramel for the flan. “I’m here because I wanted you to take the part. I came because I remember this being the kind of role you dreamed about in college.” She stopped fussing with the melted sugar and braced her hands on the counter like she was trying to find her strength for the conversation, then she hung her head for a moment. He watched as her back lifted and then slumped. Noticed how there was a tiny red bruise on her neck, which looked very much like teeth marks, and he wished he could be the man this woman deserved.
“You’re the best person for the job,” she said matter-of-factly, “and I could put my feelings aside and get the actor who could make the project a success or I could sulk. You’re not the only one who can put business first,” she added with finality as she looked him dead in the eyes.
Something bruised and feral howled inside his chest at her answer. Deep down he’d wanted her to tell him she’d come to see him, that she’d wanted to know if things between them could still work. But he couldn’t blame her for protecting herself. It was the only smart thing either of them had done since she’d arrived.
“So this was purely professional. It had nothing to do with our history?” he asked, and she turned her eyes down. He wondered what the hell he was trying to accomplish rehashing all this.
“I’m not sure what you’re fishing for, Gael.” She sounded exasperated as she cleaned her hands on a tea towel and moved toward him. “But I can tell you this. No matter what my plan was when I got here yesterday, sleeping with you was not part of it.” He swallowed hard as she came to stand right in front of him, her slight body pressed to his front. The urge to touch her made his heart punch against his chest. “And you know what?”
“What?” Speech was becoming more and more elusive with every passing second.
Her smile deepened at his one-word question, and the expression made her look thoroughly wicked. He gasped as her nails scraped the back of his neck; the jolt of sensation went straight to his groin.
“I’m not going to spend any more time hesitating. I want you.” She let the words linger as she snaked a hand down to the front of his joggers and palmed his hard cock. He stiffened at the lazy stroking motion, gritting his teeth to keep from taking her right on this counter. “Mmm.” Those sounds she made were going to end him. “And I think you want me.” He let out a pained sound, too turned on to make words. “We have this...just for the holidays. What do you say?”
Just for the holidays.
Sure, he could say no, but he wasn’t going to. Not when she was offering and he was desperate to take everything she could give him. He let his hands slide down to her backside and dug in, the denim of her jeans rough against his palms, and thrust into her hand. “I say you better stop stroking my dick, unless you want me to bend you over this kitchen island,” he said through a clenched jaw.
“Mmm, that sounds hot,” she answered before she licked into his mouth. After a moment she pulled back with a very wicked grin. “But later,” she declared. “After dinner tonight, when we have time.”
He was going to come just from that throaty laugh of hers. “You’re playing with fire, Perla Sambrano,” he warned as he went in for a hungry kiss. They ate at each other’s mouths for a few breathless moments until they both pulled back, panting. He had to bite back a grin at the dazed expression on her face.
“I’m looking forward to being burned, Gael Montez,” she said a little wobblier than just a second ago, but no less sexy. He could not wait to get this woman in his bed and wreck her completely.
“Now, let’s finish this flan before another one of your family members walks in on us half-naked,” she teased, and despite the extreme case of blue balls he was experiencing, he laughed.
“Family’s overrated,” he groused as he worked on getting his erection and his breathing under control.
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head in feigned disapproval. “You’re crazy about your family,” she told him with a smile that beckoned him to go back in for another kiss.
I’m crazy about you, but that’s just going to leave us both in pieces like it did the last time.
“I’m almost done,” Perla called from the bedroom as she finished putting on her diamond studs. She stood straight as she took in her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a replica of a black Balenciaga gown from the 1965 winter collection. She’d bought the original dress at auction to donate to the Fashion Institute in New York, and the House of Balenciaga had offered to make her this one when they’d heard. It was a sleek and simple design in the front, with long sleeves and a knot at the waist that brought attention to the A-line skirt. But the back was what drew her to the dress. It had a deep scoop that showed a lot of skin. It made the dress sexy and elegant at the same time.
