"The ocean!" Anya screamed, tossing her sparkly pink backpack at the ground and sprinting down the long set of stone stairs to the beach.
"Wait!" We all called after her, but she was already taking two steps at a time, running right past the giant checkered tile pool and jumped the final few stairs right onto the sand.
"Vacation, right," Jack grumbled under his breath and then took off after her, yelling, "don't go in the water Anya!"
Stellan and I followed him down and then leaned against the retaining wall watching Jack quickly close the space between them as she cartwheeled across the pristine sand toward the churning Pacific Ocean laid out before us. The morning breeze rustled through all the palms above us and the lush foliage behind us, cool and heavy with the smell of saltwater and sage. The sun was just starting to warm up, making the jackets we'd worn from London feel extra heavy. Further out a flock of birds startled at the edge of where the ocean met the land taking off into the cloudless blue sky as Anya let out a squeal of delight when her now bare feet touched the water. I chuckled as we watched Jack try and hunt down her shoes on the empty beach while she jumped in the surf. It was absolutely surreal.
As Jack coerced Anya back I turned around to get a good look at our villa for the next two weeks. My eyes poured over all the beautiful curves to each of the round buildings and the bright white wide open windows, I bumped my hip against his thigh and said to Stellan,
"I swear I didn't know it was orange."
He turned to look with me at the three tiers of the villa moving up the mountainside in their persimmon shade and leaned over to knock his shoulder into my own as he replied,
"Should have kept that to yourself. I was starting to believe you were the one with magic in your blood."
"Nah," I smiled at him, "dumb luck."
"Avery!" Anya yelled toward me, trotting past the long outdoor couch filled with pillows in ocean toned blues. She took in a huge breath before continuing, "I have never even been to a lake before and now I have touched the biggest ocean in the world!"
"Congratulations," I laughed and looked behind her at Jack, panting, his hands crossed over the top of his head, her purple sneakers hanging from his hands. He narrowed his eyes at her back before coming to stand next to her.
"How do you not have jet lag?" He gave her an exasperated look and then tossed her shoes at the ground next to her backpack. She spun around, hands on her hips and puffed up a little as she cracked back,
"Why aren't you more excited? We are at the beach!"
"Because we just spent almost an entire day on a plane. Ask me again tomorrow when everything doesn't hurt." He crossed his arms, giving her a very stern look that she completely ignored. With a quick spin on her bare feet, she started up the massive staircase toward their suite at the top calling back over her shoulder,
"I'm going to change so I can swim!"
Jack scowled at the stairs and then glanced at Stellan with the most pathetically beseeching look and Stellan nodded and then yelled out in a scolding tone,
"Slow down! You can't swim at this beach, the current is too strong."
She halted on her climb, frozen for a moment, before turning to face the three of us and yelling back down,
"But I can swim in the pool!" A huge smile lit across her face and she started sprinting up the rest of the steps.
"I tried," Stellan laughed.
"You brought a bathing suit, right?" I teased.
"I hate you both," Jack sighed and reached down to grab Anya's things before starting up the stairs after her.
As they disappeared I shrugged out of my coat and took a closer look at the grounds. Jack and Anya's suite was in the same building at the top of the property, sharing a wall but with separate bathrooms. About ten steps down the stone carved outdoor staircase was the two-story master suite, equipped with our own private balcony above the living quarters on the bottom floor. Ten more steps down were the family room, dining room, entertainment room, and kitchen. Which led to the final ten steps down to the pool area filled with dark blue and white loungers, bright white umbrellas and an outside pool house with a thatched looking roof I'd been told were called a palapa. It was set on four circular tiers, a table with six chairs on the first, smaller two-seater tables on the second, wrap around couches on the third, and the final tier was directly into the checkered pool.
When Gemma had assisted me with booking this trip they'd informed us that the only private villa they had available was the Casa La Playa - for $8,000 a night. I had initially balked at the price, but Gemma had nodded appreciatively and said that would be perfect. We could land our own plane on their private airstrip, the resort had 24-hour security on their protected, secluded land, and we would have a dedicated housekeeper, chef, and butler on the 20,000 square feet the compound was situated on.
That was just our villa. The resort had a laundry list of activities, restaurants, and experiences for our butler to arrange at a whim. Like the breakfast, they were already setting up under the palapa next to the pool. Even with all the added security of the resort itself, we'd still brought two Order security guards with us. They would be taking shifts and staying in the staff apartment separate from ours and mostly just watching from a distance.
While I hadn't been part of the entire handoff meeting I had made it perfectly clear to the three of them, that if I was going to be spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on this it needed to be an actual vacation. No glad-handing. No photo ops. No paparazzi. No earpieces shadowing me. I'd waited in the silence of my mandate for a good minute or two before Elodie begrudgingly sighed and nodded, Jack and Stellan following her lead. Knowing that was taken care of I'd let them hash out all the logistics while I planned the two weeks ahead with the manager of the property. Despite everything going so smoothly, this wasn't exactly what I thought a Mexican vacation was going to be like.
My mother and I had been planning Mexico as our 'someday' for as long as I could remember. We even had a private Pinterest board I hadn't had the guts to look at since I'd left. On our road trips to the next state, we would strategize for when she wouldn't have to travel all the time for her job anymore. We'd go to Mexico and stay for a while. Sip drinks under blue umbrellas, find a sliver of beach and tan ourselves brown, learn how to surf and speak Spanish. She said we'd stay at a casita and ride our bikes around town, eat street tacos and learn to salsa. It was one of my favorite topics we shared. But never in our plans had it involved the grandeur of a private beach set within an animal preserve.
Now that I'd seen how excited Anya had gotten just at the ocean alone some of the things I planned seemed borderline obscene and hollow. They certainly weren't Coke in glass bottles and street vendor shopping. I forgot sometimes that she was the closest to me in terms of normal life experiences. I didn't have to set up all these elaborate things to make her happy. But I hoped Anya and Stellan would enjoy them all the same. It wasn't every day you were able to watch baby sea turtles hatch and flop out toward the ocean.
"Kuklachka?" Stellan's voice broke through and I shook from my thoughts and smiled blankly back at him.
"Yes?"
"What were you thinking about?" He wondered, his eyes flicking up and down my body quickly, "I just had an entire conversation with myself."
"Sorry. Must be the jet lag." I gave him another big forced smile. "What were you saying?"
He took a step closer to me and lowered his voice, "are you feeling alright?"
I pressed my lips together and started nodding, trying not to lash out at him. He'd started asking me that since Jerusalem. Always low enough so no one else could hear, and always right after he'd catch me in a daze, which had been increasingly more and more. I knew it was in his nature to watch me, and I'd been giving him plenty of reasons to be concerned. But I really didn't need a reminder of all that before I'd even had breakfast on the first day of our vacation.
"I'm hungry," I lied and tossed my jacket at one of the white and dark blue loungers as I walked along the edge of the pool on my way to the palapa. I gave him another big, fake, smile over my shoulder. He frowned in return.
"Si! Si! Bueno!" Chef Mateo encouraged Anya as she smashed up more avocados in her bowl. After two days of swimming and building sand castles, I needed to break this up a little. What could be better to learn how to make than guacamole? I wasn't sure how expensive avocados might be back in London, but the look of sheer determination on Anya's face was brightening my mood.
I probably should have anticipated it, but I'd apparently brought two Keepers with me. I'd been passing out in our California King sized bed alone, waking up alone, and had been entertaining Anya by myself. I'd managed to catch Jack yesterday afternoon to ask what the hell was so dangerous about a private beach, on secured land, with two trained assassins lurking in the shadows to protect us? He'd replied,
"Everything, Avery. The overgrowth of the vegetation can hide a lot, the size and shape of the cliffs are concerning, we're staying in three separate buildings, and even if this part is safe - it's still Mexico."
I'd nodded and started strategizing from there. The guacamole was the first step in my plan.
Elodie's constant reprimand for Stellan the day after an event was that he had to stop looking like a Keeper in all the pictures. He was only allowed, according to her, to be snarky and mischievous or brooding and pensive. He'd always just roll his eyes at her, but I could tell it did bother him a little. If it was because he didn't think it was a problem, or he didn't know how to fix it I wasn't so sure. If having dinner at five-star restaurants was enough to bring out Keeper mode I was going to have to up my game if I wanted him to shake it for this trip.
I glanced over at what Anya and I had jokingly started to refer to as 'his spot'. It was under the palapa, on the second level, at a two-seater table and chair set up that had the perfect vantage of the pool, ocean, and stairs going up to the suites. He had one of the metal chairs tipped back against a pole and his boots propped up in the other as he scowled at the property in his black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. He was ridiculous. Even Jack had shorts on and was sipping a Dos Equis.
Anya was just finishing up her avocado mashing when I called over to him,
"Come join us. Spaghetti can't be the only thing you know how to cook."
His eyes narrowed as he forced himself not to immediately turn me down and exhaled loudly as he stood and made his way over. Anya switched her attention to chopping up cilantro with her kid safe knife. As she concentrated on her task he had a quick conversation in Spanish to get the lay of the land and then started halving his own avocados. With the task nearly complete Chef Mateo left, all of us smiling and waving as he ambled back toward the kitchen.
Anya sprinkled her poorly cut cilantro onto her lumpy avocados as she cheerfully said,
"Stellan knows how to cook lots of things!"
"Oh do you?" I drawled at the side of his face. He refused to look over at me and instead smirked as he finished mashing up all his avocados into a smooth paste. "Like what?"
"Borscht, Blini's, Pelmeni, Pirozhki," Anya trailed off.
I let out an incredulous huff they both ignored, too absorbed in their cooking to care. I really should have known. In retrospect, he'd helped me with that vegetable soup at Colette's villa like a pro. I pulled a bowl of tortilla chips closer to myself and settled back in my chair to watch them work. Anya was carefully dropping one pre-diced tomato into her mixture at a time, which had given Stellan plenty of opportunity to catch up to her. As he finished cutting up limes for them he finally looked over and shrugged,
"They're all Russian."
"Why is that an excuse?" I replied with a smirk before crunching down on another chip.
"Most of them involve cabbage," he clarified and Anya laughed so loudly in response the two of us couldn't help but start chuckling as well. Anya grabbed one of the limes and attempted to squeeze but only a few drops came out. Picking up another half he leaned over the table and said,
"Tell me when."
Anya kept her eyes on the steady stream of lime juice pooling in her guacamole, but mine were on his forearm as he forced every last drop out of the lime. I crunched down on another chip and blinked away so I wouldn't get caught ogling. With a few final stirs, they pushed their finished bowls across the table toward me.
"Okay Avery," Anya started very seriously, "you have to be honest and tell us which one is better."
I gave her a serious nod back and grabbed my first chip, holding it in front of them as if it was of the utmost importance. I dipped into Stellan's first which, of course, was professional grade guacamole. I gave him a curt nod, trying not to react at all because I could practically feel Anya's anxiety about potentially losing this impromptu competition. I turned to Anya's next, her little hands folded on top of the table, fingers pressing down hard onto the tops of her hands. I grabbed the next chip and took a bite. I had to press my tongue immediately to the roof of my mouth so I wouldn't pucker at the sheer amount of lime juice that assaulted me. But when I crunched down on a rather large and spicy jalapeno I had to close my eyes and start vigorously nodding to hide my reaction.
"Anya wins," I coughed and forced my watery eyes open to see her jump up from her chair with a triumphant shout and then point at Stellan and start laughing. He darted a hand across the table to try and grab her gloating finger but she slipped away just in time and let out a shriek as she ran down the platforms away from him and did a cannonball into the pool.
I wiped at my eyes and then jerked as Jack gave me a friendly, but firm, clap on the shoulder,
"Way to take one for the team, Avery," he laughed and passed his beer to me. I took a slug of it and then almost gagged.
"Christ, it's so bitter."
I grabbed a handful of chips and shoved them into my mouth to try and calm my tastebuds. They smirked at each other and settled back in their chairs, sharing Stellan's guacamole as their eyes immediately did a sweep of the property. My disappointment mixed with my indigestion - that lasted all of five minutes. I pushed Anya's abomination toward them and grabbed Stellan's for my own, scooping out a big bite as I said,
"Someone has to eat it. And I blame your forearms for this."
"Me?" He cracked back, but his eyes were playful. My mouth full, I just shrugged in reply. Keeping full eye contact he scooped a big glob of her guacamole out and took a bite. I waited, feeling the smile build across my face until he couldn't hold it back any longer and swallowed hard so he could start coughing. Jack slid his beer across the table and he drained it, and then wiped at his face.
"She left all the seeds," he inhaled, waving a hand at his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Jack and I started cracking up, and then Jack stood and went to the mini fridge in the corner, bringing back two beers for them.
"Look!" Anya yelled from the shallow end, pointing out toward the ocean. We all snapped to attention, the laughter gone, and then relaxed as she continued with, "dolphins!"
She swam up to the step and urged us to follow her for a better look. Stellan took a drink and nodded, I followed him out from under the shade into the hot afternoon sun. I might be giving Stellan a hard time about not shaking Keeper mode, but if I was being honest I wasn't much better. I still hadn't put on a bathing suit despite two days of watching water activities. I'd tried that first day and took one look at my giant scar and scrawny looking body and threw my clothes back on.
We stood at the edge of the deep end of the pool to get a better look at the school of dolphins bobbing in the water and breaching the waves.
"Swim with me!" She smiled up at us and then splashed a little water toward our feet. It cascaded onto my flip flops and the toes of Stellan's boots. He frowned at her and she gave him a sheepish smile before teasing us with, "unless you don't know how to."
"He knows how to swim," I replied, shaking the water off my feet at the same time he said,
"I can swim."
We shared a knowing smile between us and I leaned into him, resting my head against his arm. He took a sip of beer as his warm palm slid up my back, fingers snaking up to gently tug at the bottom of my hair and said,
"It's Avery that can't swim."
"Are you really," I started, indignant, realizing far too late I'd fallen for his bait to distract me.
In one smooth move, he took a step back while simultaneously pushing me forward toward the pool. I let out a yelp and twisted awkwardly to grab onto him, only ending up with his shirt in my hands, precariously off balance. It pulled taught against him, he winked at me, and then with a duck and a twist, stepped backward right out of his shirt, somehow still managing to hold his beer. My fists futilely clenched the fabric harder as I fell, in slow motion, backward into the pool. I hit with a stinging slap into the water and sunk to the bottom, clothes, shoes, phone and all.
I pushed against the tiles and resurfaced, sputtering and coughing, slopping his T-shirt onto the side of the pool with ringing laughter from the three of them bouncing around me as I shook the water out of my ears. Stellan was still making his way back over to his spot as I drug myself up onto the edge of the pool, Anya swimming over in between fits of laughter. I glared at his back, the giant sword moving as he took another deep drink of his beer. My scowl deepened as I realized my glare had turned to ogling again. But it was mesmerizing to watch. I had to find a way to keep his shirt off on this trip.
Anya floated up next to me as I yanked my phone out of my wet jean shorts and sighed watching the steady stream of water pouring out from the inside of my phone. It wouldn't even turn on now. Metal scraped against concrete and we both turned to see Stellan settle back into his spot, a shit-eating grin across his face now.
"I don't think he knows how to have fun." Anya pushed up onto her back, shaking her head at the sky in disappointment.
"No," I paused watching the way his arms flexed as he adjusted his foot chair. "He doesn't know how to relax."
"How can you make someone relax?" Anya asked slowly floating away from me. Immediately, all sorts of devious thoughts began to alter all the plans I'd made. It was going to be a much better strategy.
"I have an idea," I smiled and pushed to standing, my clothes dripping with every step up to our room.
"Are you sure I can't come too?" Anya drawled.
I watched her from the mirror in the bathroom, her head hanging off the edge of our bed, her hair nearly touching the ground, as she played with one of my necklaces.
"Pretty sure Anya," I laughed.
"Jack is already in a bad mood. It's not going to be any fun."
I turned away so she couldn't see my smirk. I knew exactly why Jack was in a bad mood, Stellan had told him this morning he was on babysitting duty tonight. They'd been glaring at each other all day about it. I hadn't said a damn word, too afraid that if I tried to keep the peace I would jeopardize this chance for the two of us to be alone.
"And we're just getting a quick dinner and coming back. That's not much fun either," I countered, shutting the lights off in the bathroom. She sat up with a jingle, moving to the center of the bed. I told her she could pick my jewelry for tonight, but it would appear she was wearing it instead. All my bracelets were hanging around her elbows, the necklaces tangling around her neck, her right hand filled with rings. She just needed a crown, though I doubted I'd ever had thousands of dollars of 'play' jewelry hanging off me when I'd played Pretty, Pretty Princess by myself.
"Everything is more fun with you," she pouted, but I wasn't biting tonight. The four of us had gone on a hike and spent the majority of the day at the swimming beach. She had thought Jack was plenty of fun when he was tossing her into the waves all day.
"Jack can be fun," I tried to pacify and then leaned toward her, grabbing her hand so I could slip off the ruby cocktail ring I wanted. She gave me the biggest boo-boo lip ever and I laughed as I slipped the ring onto my right hand. "Do you like my dress?"
I gave her a slow spin as she critically looked over my outfit. I'd opted for an off-the-shoulder linen eyelet dress with three-quarter sleeves. It was pure white, delicate looking and possibly too short. But, it made my building tan look amazing, and had the added sway to make my attempts at salsa dancing look more legit.
"I like your lipstick," Anya nodded.
"I'm not wearing any," I smiled.
"I like your dress."
We both turned to see Stellan leaning against the door jamb, eyeing me, his rolled sleeves crossed tight over his chest in his bright white Oxford, and I instantly flushed. Anya, on the other hand, lept off the bed, all my jewelry clanging with the action and took some bouncing steps toward him,
"Do you have to leave me with Jack?"
"Yes," he automatically answered, his eyes still glued to my legs.
"Oh, come on," Anya grumbled and pushed past him to make her way down the stairs, jingling with every step.
"Ready?" He held out his hand toward me and I nodded.
Plaster was falling off the front of the building, there were paper flyers in the windows showcasing the 'steep' discounts they were giving on premium liquor, the front door was wide open and you could smell the food even from the street. It was perfect. The sleepy little town just outside the property line of Cuixmala had already been inspected earlier in the day by the Order guard that was currently parking our car on a side street. The gravel crunched under our feet as we walked past the public garden, the Catholic Church, and dark houses. Only the church seemed to be alive, with light shining through the stained glass windows for an evening mass. We stopped in front of our destination for the night, El Pecado, and Stellan let out a little laugh in his chest.
"What?" I squeezed his hand.
"You can't translate that?" He nodded his head at the sign. I searched through all my limited Spanish and shrugged. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "sin."
A shiver rolled down my spine and the smile bloomed across my face as our Order guard caught up with us and held the door open.
The restaurant looked like it could fit, maybe, 50 people in it. It was a long rectangle with white plastic tables and chairs to the right, kitchen access on the left, the bar tucked into the back corner, and a steel screen letting in the lush breeze from the back patio. We cautiously stopped at the door, unsure if we were supposed to seat ourselves. The place was mostly empty, just two older gentleman slowly slipping beers as they watched some kind of game show on the muted TV mounted to the wall. Music was playing faintly from a speaker I couldn't locate. The walls had peeling posters from previous fight nights and soccer matches as the decor. I squeezed Stellan's hand again in excitement and he shook his head, grinning.
The bartender looked up from his phone and then jerked in surprise at the sight of us. Abandoning the bar, he gave us a big greeting in Spanish and came forward to shake both our hands for some strange reason. He introduced himself as the owner, Antonio, and gestured toward the table closest to the bar. He even beat Stellan to the punch in pulling out the chair for me and I instantly liked him. With everyone seated our Order guard stationed himself in a dark corner and this rush of hope filled my chest. This could actually work. Maybe there wouldn't be enough people to make it feel like the kind of jovial atmosphere I'd always see in pictures, but everything else would be pretty close to mimicking a 'normal' night out.
"¿Qué quieres comer señorita?" Antonio directed at me first.
"Señora," I corrected and his eyes widened and he shook his head.
"¡Eres demasiado joven!" He chastised me and I slid my hand across the table to wrap a finger around Stellan's and smiled,
"El es muy guapo."
Stellan and Antonio both let out a loud laugh and he squeezed my finger between his own before releasing me. We settled back in our chairs and I decided to start simple, ordering tacos and some Coke, but then Stellan tacked on a round of tequila at the end. I rose an eyebrow at his smirk and tried to keep up with their banter back and forth over the best possible tequila they had.
As Antonio made his way into the kitchen to deliver our order Stellan leaned toward me,
"Are you having fun?"
"Of course," I smiled.
"Of course isn't good enough."
"Whenever my Mom and I talked about going to Mexico there was always salsa dancing involved," I replied and shrugged. There wasn't a dance floor here or the right crowd for it when you considered the only other patrons.
Stellan let out a contemplative noise, scanning the room as Antonio set down a basket of chips and a little bowl of salsa. As he popped the tops off our Coke's with a bottle opener he had in his pocket I took my first bite of salsa and nodded approvingly. He then hustled toward the bar and ducked below it to come back with a bottle of tequila so clear I'd almost thought it was water.
"No mixers?" I asked as he pulled the seal off the bottle and pulled the cork out. I didn't even know tequila came in anything but a twist off top. Stellan frowned at me,
"You don't bastardize a tequila this good with triple sec."
"Sorry," I rolled my eyes and scooped up another bite of salsa.
Antonio set down two shot glasses, ready to pour when Stellan shook his head, gesturing toward the guys and their empty beer bottles. I was pretty sure he'd just invited everyone to take a shot on him. Antonio jogged over to the bar, returning with three more shot glasses to confirm my suspicion.
After greetings and the scraping of their plastic chairs across the concrete floor toward our table, we all clinked our shot glasses and my throat caught fire. I started coughing, frantically grabbing for my coke as everyone laughed and Antonio gave me a few pats on the back to attempt to help me. It was still burning all the way down to my belly and I glanced across the table at Stellan's shining eyes and gave him a skeptical look.
Antonio started lining up another round of shots and my eyes went wide right as the restaurant filled with the sound of church bells. They rang over the sound of the music drowning out everything and Antonio grumbled something and stood, moving back to the bar to turn the music up. It mixed with the last of the bells and someone started singing, loudly, with the song in the kitchen. They continued to sing as they swung out toward our table holding a serving platter filled with delicious looking food.
The cook set down tacos, ceviche, guacamole, a plate of cut up limes and a salt shaker. I was very confused about the last two items and thanked him as I grabbed a taco for myself. My eyes rolled closed as I stopped myself from shoving the whole thing in my mouth and moaning, it was incredible. I opened my eyes to grab another one as Stellan invited everyone to the food and another shot. Antonio ambled toward the bar grabbing a stack of shot glasses and setting them down on the table this time. The cook pulled up a seat to my left and then licked the place between his thumb and pointer finger and doused it with salt, grabbing a lime with the other hand.
He looked up to see my confused face and encouraged me to do it as well. I darted my eyes to Stellan and he was grinning and nodding. I followed suit, as did the rest of the table, and then Antonio pushed another shot into my hand.
"Mira, mira," he encouraged me and then licked the salt off his hand, threw back the shot, and shoved the lime into his mouth, sucking on it until his cheeks pulled in. "Ahora lo haces."
I shook my head and everyone laughed and encouraging me to try, even Stellan.
"We've resorted to peer pressure?" I grumbled, Stellan let out another laugh and then I followed the steps the cook had shown me, taking the shot. The group let out raucous applause and cheering for me, everyone taking their shots as well, slamming their glass down onto the white plastic table.
Antonio looked past me at the group of people hanging out by the entrance, telling them to come in as I grabbed another taco and tried to calm the burning in my chest with food. I was pretty sure Stellan had just offered all the newcomers a shot as well, but the tequila was starting to make everything a little wonky. People began to fill all the empty tables and, confirming my suspicions, Antonio grabbed the bottle of tequila and the stack of shot glasses and started moving to every table offering people a shot. It was all quite suspicious to me, especially considering the perma-smile across Stellan's face.
"What exactly are you doing?" I asked, downing the last of my coke and grabbing the guacamole for myself. The two older guys shouted hello to some new people, excusing themselves from our table as the cook took off into the kitchen.
"You want Salsa dancing. People dance when they're drunk." He explained sliding the ceviche toward himself and taking a bite that had a huge piece of shrimp on it.
"So your plan is to get the whole town drunk?" I laughed.
He shrugged, a mischievous grin pulling across his face and the booze swelled in my bloodstream with my shock.
CRASH! A beer bottle broke against the wall followed immediately by two guys pushing each other and shouting in Spanish. I laughed, loudly, leaning my chin onto Stellan's shoulder from where I'd perched myself on top of the bar and pointing at the chaos it was creating. They slammed into one of the plastic white tables, shattering two of its legs off and rolling onto the ground, making dancers trip over them as they continued to try and land punches.
"We'll pay for that Antonio!" I yelled over toward him and he waved me off with a toothy grin.
"Jefe," Antonio shouted over the music as he leaned toward Stellan, "¿qué quieres hacer?"
"Está bien." Stellan waved him off, nodding appreciatively at one of fighter's technique, "sólo hazlos ir."
Antonio moved out from behind the bar, gesturing wildly at the fight and yelling at some of the guys just watching and laughing. With some reluctance, a group of four managed to separate them and throw them both out. The crowd never stopped dancing, this one-two-one-two beat that made them all somehow move in tandem, yet individually at the same time. It was mesmerizing to watch. Also, I was shit housed. I had lost track of how many shots we'd done. I wasn't even sure how many bottles of tequila Stellan had bought at this point. I had never been this drunk, I felt like I was floating above my body somehow, giddy and grabby, believing all the lies the tequila was whispering to me. You're fine. Drink more. You can dance.
With the distraction gone the floor was instantly filled with dancers, more trying to push in from the growing line outside. The only place that wasn't inundated with patrons was our little circle of protection at the bar. Antonio had rustled up two standing lamps and circled a couple pieces of duct tape between them to create a makeshift stanchion, our own VIP room. It was even complete with our own Order security guard standing watching just inside the line.
Antonio maneuvered over the duct tape line and made quick work of opening yet another bottle of tequila. He wasn't even bothering with shot glasses anymore. As the crowd continued to push into any sliver of space, well past the capacity limit, he'd just started shoving through the sweaty masses and pouring the clear fire water straight into waiting mouths. The song ended and I watched as he sloshed the bottle back toward Stellan and shouted out in the quiet moment before the next song,
"El Jefe!"
The restaurant shouted it again in appreciation, a few people adding this rolling call like a coyote after it. Stellan rose his beer in salute back to them. The next song blasted over the hum of the crowd and everyone let out a shout of appreciation. I started bobbing back and forth on the bar, too drunk to feel my hands and feet and too happy to care if I looked stupid. Antonio crossed back under the duct tape line looking harassed for a moment before grinning at me and seeming to chastise Stellan in Spanish as he repeatedly pointed to me bobbing back and forth and then the dance floor, undulating with people that seemed to actually know the steps.
I forced myself to focus and try and figure out what they were doing when I was lifted off the bar and planted on my unsteady feet. I let out a shriek followed by laughter and looked up at a grinning Stellan.
"Dance with me."
"I don't know how," I shouted back over the music, feeling a flush of intoxication flood my body. Everything was spinning.
"Anyone can marenge," he grabbed my hands, threading our fingers, pulling me toward him and moving our hands side to side between us as our feet shuffled along. "See, you're already doing it."
"Really?" I looked down, skeptical of how quickly I could have picked this up.
"Just trust me."
And I did. He started slow, making sure I was picking up the simple act of moving my feet back and forth in time to the music, and then I was twisting, spinning, dipping and letting out peels of laughter as we fumbled through it. Each spin was bringing me closer and closer to him. Each gentle correction was moving further south down my body. My shoulders to my ribs to my waist. Until his hands were on my hips, his fingers curling into my ass as he urged me to grind myself against his thigh.
All the bubbly fun started to pop in my chest to be replaced with a slow burn of need. He flipped me in his hands so my ass was in his lap, keeping me right where I could feel his hard-on with his strong fingers wrapped around my hips. He moved one hand up to swipe all my sticky hair away from my neck and shoulder and started kissing it and I shuddered against him. It made him groan into my neck, I couldn't hear the sound, but I could feel the vibration and I wanted more.
I started to really push into him, rotating my hips in time with the music and snaking my arms behind myself to grab onto his shirt and pull him closer to me. His hand twirled in my hair, pulling it taught around his fist and a spike of lust broke through all my inebriation. He curled around me again to run his lips up to my shoulder onto my neck and then bit down right on that spot on the back of my neck that makes my knees buckle. I melted against him and then let go, turning in his hands to give him the same look I could see on his face. I was done with all the foreplay. He nodded and then yelled to our Order guard,
"Give me your keys and follow us to the car."
The Order guard blanched, but only for a moment, and then dug into his pocket and passed them over. Stellan wrapped his hand around my wrist and drug me past the safety of our lamp stanchions toward the open screen door at the back of the restaurant. I tried to keep up with him, focusing on my feet and not the people clapping and shouting at us as we pushed through the crowd. Once outside the breeze hit us and we both sighed with relief, it felt electric against my feverish skin. We moved past couples practically fucking against the side of the building and out onto the sidewalk and the crowds loitering outside the restaurant. The Order guard pointed to his left and we crossed the dirt street toward our car, illuminated in yellow and purple light coming through the stained glass windows on the church.
I pulled taught against Stellan's hand, expecting to get in on the other side of the car so we could leave but he shook his head, unlocked the car, and opened the back driver's side door commanding,
"Get in the back."
"Here?" I gawked at him, looking at the crowd still in view down the street and our Order guard scanning our surroundings. He nodded, opened the driver side door and turned the car on, cranking up the air conditioning and then slamming the door, gestured toward the back again.
"Give us a minute," he told the Order guard and slid in. I quickly ducked into the car, the Order guard slammed the door behind me and I sat on the edge of the seat, unsure what to do now. We were going to have an audience of at least one. How could he not think that was scandalous? Or was Stellan into that? I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure if I was either. I supposed a part of me was, I'd fucked him on our living room couch after all. There was this building energy inside me about the prospect of someone hearing us, seeing the car moving, it made my whole body buzz with anticipation.
Stellan pulled some latch and the whole back seat laid down to almost form a bed and then he reached for me, pulling me into a kiss. I crawled across the seats to get closer to him finally reaching his lap and straddling him. He pulled at the zipper on my back and I broke off the kiss to whisper,
"You sure?"
"Are you nervous little doll?" He rumbled against my neck, getting more of the zipper down.
"What if," I started to think about all the ways this could go spectacularly wrong but the words choked off into a moan as he grazed his teeth on my neck.
"We can stop," he said, but his fingers managed to get the rest of the zipper down. His palms slid up my back and onto my shoulders, urging the dress off and I felt him swell against me through his shorts, hot and hard, and the lust flooded me. I felt achy I wanted him so bad, and the windows were tinted, and we had a guard watching our car. The tequila started whispering to me again, telling me to make everything else fade away, focus on him. I gave in to the urge, too horny and drunk to let rational thought win this round.
I grabbed his shirt in my fists, pulling at it, not even bothering to unbutton. The first button flew off in my violent tug and he flipped us in response. My back slid against the cold leather and he pushed me up until my head was almost in the trunk as he shoved my dress up around my hips and ducked his head between my legs. His five o'clock shadow drug against my thighs on his way north, while his fingers tugged at my thong. He yanked the tiny scrap of fabric off me, his mouth making instant contact and my back arched off the now sticky leather as I let out a loud groan. Fingers slid right in and he pulled back enough to chastise,
"You tease. Already soaking wet for me."
He curled his fingers and I was too overwhelmed to say anything in response. Instead, I started rolling my hips against his fingers, failing miserably at keeping these tiny sounds of need from escaping, my climax already fluttering low in my pelvis. He felt it because he stopped and pulled his fingers out.
"Not yet," he said and I could hear the grin in his voice.
I growled in frustration, propping myself up on my elbows to glare at him. His eyes met mine, dark and possessive and I shimmied back down toward him, my hands going right for his zipper, palming him as I slipped it down. I ran my hands up to grab his shirt, yanking it to my left until he started to roll onto his back. I really wanted it off of him, I wanted to feel everything, but that would just take too much effort. I knew he thought I just wanted to be on top, which was why he'd complied so fast, but I wanted to blow him. I very rarely did it because we always jumped right to the sex.
I slid off the edge of the seat until my knees hit the floor and then dug my nails into his thighs and raked them up toward his hips. He let out this charged breath, watching me with wide, surprised, eyes as I tugged his pants open and pulled him out. I smirked, impressed at how hard he was and looked up at him through my lashes before leaning forward and taking him until he hit the back of my throat.
"Holy fuck," he groaned, his hands fluttering around my shoulders and then my hair, not actually touching me though I knew he was dying to. I wrapped a hand around the rest of him, making it follow my lips up and down each time. One shaky hand started to pet the side of my head, fingers threading through my hair and I smacked his hand away, knowing he'd love it. He sucked in a breath of surprise and swelled in my mouth at the same time.
"I'm gonna," he pleaded, "oh god don't stop."
His hand slid up my shoulder again, attempting to wrap around my hair and I smacked it away, hard enough to make a sound this time. I pushed him back down onto the seat with a flat palm, then dug my nails in as hard as I could.
"Fuck, fuck," he groaned. "No, stop. You have to stop, I'm gonna come."
He detached my clawed fingers and then put both hands on my shoulders, pushing me away with a giant breath. I looked up at him from the floor of the car, running the back of my hand across my mouth as I took him in. He was heaving and wild looking, buttons missing on his shirt and this thin sheen of sweat across his body despite the air conditioning keeping the car bearable.
"We're even now," I teased, breathy and throbbing. He just laughed in response and guided me back up onto the seat until I was straddling him, backward, a knee on the outside of each of his thighs. I rested my elbows on the tops of both of the front seats, my body lengthening and stretching as he smoothed his hands down my waist, anchoring them on my hips, and then angled me just right to sink all the way down on his dick.
"That's so fucking good," he groaned against my shoulder blades. I nodded, panting and so close to the edge of oblivion I didn't know what was going to come first me or my blackout.
His fingers dug into my hips making them angle backward and my ass pop up. When he brought me up and down it hit that magical spot inside me that made my whole body contract. He helped me bounce up and down his dick, his fingers biting into my skin to the point of bruising to keep me in that specific position. Legs shaking, heart pounding, the world started to darken around the edges, this strangled noise broke from my throat as my whole body started to tighten in anticipation of my release.
"You're so fucking tight. Beg for it." He ordered and ran his nose up my sweaty spine. I shivered in response and it catapulted me even closer to the edge. I had lost control of my body - breathe, fuck, breathe.
"Please, please, please," tumbled from my mouth in this high pitched tone I'd never used before.
"Louder," he groaned, swelling inside me.
"So close, so close," I pleaded, dripping sweat, my whole body shaking now. I felt his tongue slide up my spine, licking a bead of sweat off me and I shuddered. Then he released his hand and smacked my ass so hard I clenched in reaction and imploded.
I struggled to hold onto consciousness as I contracted and fell against the center console, my elbows hitting hard and my sweaty forehead sliding against my hands. This whining growl was shaking my teeth as it rattled past, so loud I couldn't even hear Stellan anymore as wave after wave of orgasm crippled me to the edge of muscle cramps.
Everything darkened, swirled, spun and I sucked in a huge breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. We both stilled, only for a moment, panting until I felt his gentle kisses sliding all along my lower back,
"I love you," a kiss, "I love you, Avery."
"I know," I croaked and he started quietly chuckling against my skin, the little puffs of breath mixing with the air conditioning caused my rapidly cooling body to shiver. I reflexively clenched and it was too much for both of us. We sucked in painful breaths and he pulled me off of him, guiding me to his right so we could both collapse onto the laid out back seat.
"Are you okay?" He gently brushed some hair off my sweaty forehead and then kissed it. Murmuring, "I got kinda carried away."
"We'll find out tomorrow," I whispered back, feeling that sucking, spinning pull into unconsciousness wash over me.
"Why?"
"I have to pass out." I exhaled and attempted to pull my dress back up only to feebly fail and sigh, "I love you too."
I slumped against him and let the blackout take me.
I woke up with a confusing bracelet of my panties wrapped haphazardly around my wrist and the worst case of dry mouth I'd ever had in my life. The room was blindingly bright, despite the closed curtains. The air heavy with humidity and this awful mix of sweat and tequila that made a gag try to rise in my throat. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I had to drink water or I was going to die. It was that dire.
Stellan was still passed out, face down, fully clothed, wearing only one shoe, on top of the covers. I wondered if he'd been the one that managed to get my dress back on last night or if it was the Order guard. Because I was almost positive he'd blacked out too. He'd been taking every single shot last night whenever the crowd started chanting El Jefe.
I tried to roll toward my water bottle and let out a pathetic sounding whine. Muscles I didn't even know I had hurt, and that motion had rattled my brain just enough to create this halo of pain around my head. I was pretty sure I was going to die. And if I didn't I was never drinking tequila again.
With tremendous effort, I managed to sit up and the room spun around me. My clumsy hand smashed things out of my way toward the water. The bottle made this awful crinkling sound as I fisted it to ensure I didn't drop it on the ground. I flinched, Stellan let out a groan next to me. I struggled with the cap and then chugged the whole bottle as fast as I could. Water spilled down the sides of my mouth toward the stiff and now itchy feeling collar of my dress. My already tender stomach tried to heave the water back up, but I clenched my jaw and pressed my lips together as hard as I could.
I headed for the bathroom and Anya's shrill laughter from the pool pierced through my eardrums and I cringed, the action making my head throb more. I stayed there, long after I was finished, my head in my hands, as I tried to piece myself back together. When I finally managed to work up enough momentum the first thing I did was peel my soiled dress off of me, then crawl across the marble floors until I made it to our giant sunken tub, and made the water as hot as possible.
When I managed to finally slide in I sunk to the bottom, relishing the sting of the heat washing away all our mischief from last night. I could hear some kind of noise back out in the bedroom, but I had no intention of leaving this bath until I absolutely had to. As I floated in the water I could make out Anya's shrieks and laughter toward Jack. Why the two of them felt yelling at each other was necessary was beyond me. I sunk under the water again and when I emerged I could hear groaning from the bedroom. It would appear Stellan was waking from his coma.
The world started to solidify more around me. Now I only felt like I might be incapacitated instead of dead. In some miracle of forethought last night my drunken brain had remembered to take my contacts out. But now everything was blurry, including which white blur was a towel or a robe. I grabbed both of them, wrapping my hair up first and then squinting at my reflection in the mirror. Something was off. Letting the robe drag behind me I got close enough to see and gasped. Bruises. So many bruises. I slowly spin in the mirror to see them sprinkled across my hips, ass, neck, wrists. What the hell had we done last night? I remembered it being pretty wild, but not this rough.
I pulled the terry cloth robe on, tying the sash tight and pulling the collar up to hide my neck. How the hell was I going to hide all this from Jack and Anya today? Or would it be possible to just burrow into some kind of sensory deprivation room until I was back to normal? Stellan groaned again and I stumbled back toward the bedroom, holding my breath until I could open all the windows.
It would appear the noise I heard was some brave staff member setting down some food for us, and by the looks of the spread, it was lunch. We'd slept in that long? Everything was so disorienting. I sat down with a thud onto the couch by the food and immediately sucked in a painful gasp, the initial shock turning to a dull throb between my legs. So I guess it had been that rough. As the pain ebbed I looked at the spread of food trying to figure out which item wouldn't make me immediately barf.
One looked like chicken soup with giant pieces of corn in it. The other was some red drink with a lime on the side maybe it was juice? Along with deep fried tacos, fruit, puffy bread and chips and salsa. I opted for the juice. I watched the giant mass of Stellan starting to stir on the bed as I took the first big gulp of juice and it sprayed out of my mouth all over the food. Not juice.
It was salty and spicy and fizzy and bitter. What the hell was this thing? I pushed it away, staining my robe as I wiped my arm across my face.
"Avery," his muffled voice called out and I forced down a spoonful of the broth from the soup instead and quietly answered back,
"Stellan?"
"I blame you for this," he groaned again and I snorted my disbelief.
"Sure you do El Jefe," I laughed, then groaned and grabbed my head.
There was a beat as we both huffed and quietly whined to ourselves until I asked,
"You want to take back what happened last night?"
He yanked the pillow off his face and squinted at me,
"Never."
I nodded, forcing myself to take another sip of broth when he pulled the pillow back over his face and croaked, "you?"
"Could do without all the bruises," I answered, leaning back on the couch and grimacing at every pain spot that was screaming at me.
The pillow lifted off his face as he glared at the window and then shortly asked, "what bruises?"
"Clearly you drank way more than me if you don't remember." I laughed and then grabbed my head.
"Don't talk about drinking," he groaned as he rolled to sit at the edge of the bed, head in his hands, his hair a mess all over his head. There were three quick knocks and Anya's loud, chipper tone through the door,
"Are you two awake yet?"
Stellan and I both flinched at the sound and I fell over onto my side, curling into a ball on the couch as she banged on the door again. Stellan groaned loudly and then started breathing hard. That couldn't be good, but there was nothing I could do. I wasn't moving from this spot until the world was done punishing me.
"Fine! I'll come back later," she grumbled to the door and then yelled down the hall, "they're still asleep!"
I was pretty sure I heard Jack start laughing and then Stellan gagged and rushed toward the bathroom. I pulled a pillow over my head.