Page 49 of After the Fire
“Was it? Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m still not used to how slow this town is. Some days stretch out so much. That is something I forgot about living here.”
I smiled because I thought it was charming. How time seemed to pass by at the exact speed I needed it. Neither slow nor fast. Just perfectly. I was perfectly in the moment, enjoying every single thing this place had to offer me for the time being.
“We were just talking about that,” I added. “I think it’s charming. It’s almost like it makes you stop and enjoy instead of going full force ahead.”
“Yeah, well, whatever.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You should spend more time here and then let me know how you feel.” She winked and started talking about someone that I didn’t know, her voice loud and directed to her mother, who was standing by the sink, rinsing the dishes. The image was so domestic, so casual, that I couldn’t help but smile.
The conversation shifted a few times. I answered questions, asked questions in return. Spoke to both of Santiago’s parents and to Lucía. I stole some glances and caught Santiago looking at me. His body relaxed at the kitchen table, his arm resting on the back of his mother’s chair. He smiled at me, and my insides turned, sending heat right to my core. This had never happened to me with Manuel. It was natural, instinctual. My body craved his, and by the smolder in his eyes, I could tell he also wanted me.
He stood abruptly and walked to me, hugging me from behind and lowering his face to mine. “Ready to go?” he asked gravelly. “We’re leaving,” he announced to the group and held out his hand to mine.
I looked at Lucía and smiled.“Thank you for lunch,” I said. “It was lovely.”
“Bye,” he said and tugged on my hand to get me moving. His steps were hurried, urgent.
“Where are we going?” I whispered, trying to catch up to him.
“We’re going home,” he said without even turning to look at me.
Home.
24
THE ACT
We walked fastand blended with the crowds of people moving about town. The lazy hour was over, and townsfolk were returning to their jobs and running their normal errands. The late afternoon was crisp, and Santiago’s hand was hot on mine. My heart thrashed inside my chest.
We walked into the hotel, flying past the reception desk, and he only acknowledged the woman there with a small nod of his head. He took the stairs two at a time, never letting go of my hand.
“Hey,” I said quietly. “Give me a chance to catch up.”
He slowed down his pace, looked at me over his shoulder, and smiled. He paused for a moment and then continued with his hurried steps towards my room.
“What’s gotten into you?” I asked quietly. He was moving at lightning speed, like he was running late to something. I fished the key out of my purse and handed it to him, my hand shaking. The door was opened in a second, and he pulled me inside, kicking it closed behind us.
I was burning from the inside out. He took a step forward, immediately invading the space I’d so protectively guarded for years. It felt natural, like this was the logical next step into whatever this whole thing between us was. His scent, despite the long day, was overpowering, reminding me of a younger self, of those many hours we put in with our study groups ten years before.
He lifted one of his big hands and caressed my cheek, dragging it back under my ear and parking it there, his fingers on the back of my neck and his thumb under my jaw. His eyes searched me, asking for a silent permission that would inevitably be given to him. My lips parted, and a small sound escaped me. I couldn’t remember where I was standing, the energy sizzling in my hotel room.
His lips brushed mine in a delicate way, almost like if he moved too fast, he would scare me out of this. Like a scared little animal—and he was right. I had my moments of feeling fragile and weak. This was not one though.
I moaned, and Santiago picked up his pace. He eased his tongue in between my parted lips, searching for my own, pulling me deeper into him. His other hand went down to my lower back, pushing me into his rock-hard body.
“I—” I said into his lips, stopping myself before I could even continue with whatever train of thought was ravaging my head, because there was none. I had no idea where that sentence would go. I shook my head and Santiago took two steps back, immediately dropping his arms to his sides. My eyes widened in surprise or regret—who even knew at that point. My heart thumped loudly in my chest, the tips of my fingers tingling with the anticipation of touching this man before me.
“Sorry, I got carried away,” he said, like this had been strictly on him. “I’m going to leave,” he said as he sighed, not moving an inch from where he was, right by the door.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. Stay.” I swallowed. “Please?”
I took a step forward, and he responded by mimicking my action. He lifted one of his hands and placed it at my hip, pulling my body. My hands instinctively went to the back of his neck, and the space between us closed, leaving us flush against each other.
Santiago’s lips found mine once again, and my breath caught. I felt a small smile form on his lips, and that moment alone made me feel wanted, like maybe I was everything he ever expected, and he was happy he was getting such a response from me. I couldn’t know for sure, but it gave me a good feeling, certainty that I was doing the right thing. That we were both exactly where we wanted to be.
I couldn’t remember if I’d ever been kissed like that before. Up until this point, I’d had a handful of kisses from different men in my life, the most recent, Manuel, but Santiago kissed like he was ten steps ahead and knew exactly where he was going at all times. Just like his pauses in conversation, his pauses here were intentional and controlled. He was patient and dedicated, his full attention on my lips.
There was fire pooling in between my thighs. My hands found a way under his shirt, feeling his soft skin below it. He let out a groan and took me deeper into the room, walking us both to the bed. It felt as if his hands were everywhere, but at the same time like we were moving in slow motion, his fingertips memorizing every cell of my body.
His hands found the hem of my dress, lifting it to remove it. The momentary pause in our kissing gave me a second to look at him, his brows furrowed in concentration with every movement, his eyes ping-ponging all over my body. He dropped my dress by his side and turned back to me, kissing my jaw, my neck, my shoulder, one of his hands trailing down my exposed body.
