Heat

by ROGUEFURY

You don't expect to be pulled into a heated gravitation with Agent Javier Peña, and the more you both try to navigate your lives around each other, the clearer it becomes that your feelings go beyond the torrid desires you both are able to ignite in each other. Will the heat of your passions win out against the tribulations that threaten to pull you apart?

26. Chapter 26: Art

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral (m+f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of menstrual cycles, period sex, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, angst, jealousy, relationship tension, and toxic habits. Some Dom!Javi, Jealousy!Javi, and Possessive!Javi.

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Chapter 26: Art

The distant sound is what stirs you from your heavy slumber, one you're unconsciously not wanting to be pulled from, so you grumpily roll over and reach to spoon Javier, but come up empty. His side of the bed is cool, and that jolts you awake to blearily shift up and glance at the alarm clock. The red letters read a quarter to 8am, so you frown and roll onto your back so you can strain your hearing. The distant sound becomes more identifiable as a hushed, one-sided conversation, so you sit up and grab your robe, slipping it on over your nude form as you wince at the protesting muscles working overtime as you stand and tiptoe to the slightly ajar bedroom door.

"—Don't care what they say, just get me an assessment on the driver. No, probably not, but considering we have fuck-all for leads, I'd like to leave no stone unturned. No – I'll call them and get the story direct," you hear Javier gruffly sniping on his satellite phone as he paces the width of his living room, shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants. "I'll be at the office soon. Just be sure to have the assessment ready."

When he hangs up and swears under his breath before chucking the phone impatiently into the couch, you open the bedroom door and watch him round the coffee table moodily before you clear your throat. "How're you already awake and gruñendo?" you playfully tut as he turns and sees you strut into the hall now with your arms crossed over your fluffy-robed chest.

His stubborn bed-hair is curled wildly about as he absently rakes a hand through it and grumbles, "Well, someone whipped me in the face with their hair, so I woke up and figured I'd check in with Stoddard."

Frowning, you march over to him and stare at him through your long lashes. "Want me to chop my hair off? I'll do it," you quip and loop your arms around his waist.

"Don't you dare," he growls ruggedly and reverently combs his hands through your silky tresses before tilting your face up to meet his kiss. You hum amusedly and yelp when he suddenly yanks you over to sit on his lap when he drops down onto the sofa. "I love this thick mane, guapita," he purrs as he kisses a path to the back of your nape while he brushes your hair to be swept into his palm.

"Hmm…so you're going to the embassy?" you murmur, leaning into him as he keeps brushing his lips along the slope of your neck.

"Yeah. I can't leave the country for a fucking day. All hell broke loose last night in Cali, plus Christina Jurado getting kidnapped…" he huffs and leans back, reminded of something he'd intended to mention. "I, uh, took your advice," Javi muses, gaze softening as you straddle him and start finger combing his hair for him.

"Oh? About Christina Jurado?" you remark offhandedly.

"Yeah. I approached her—"

"At a bar."

He pauses, staring bemusedly at you as you smile good-naturedly. "So, I have something to tell you, but you can't get mad—"

"I fucking hate when you start off with that," Javier grouses tersely as he scratches at his stubble-covered cheek. "Alright, I promise," he tells you in a forced rumble.

You purse your plush lips at him, so he sits up straighter and gives you his undivided, dark chocolate-eyed attention. "You know what? Never mind," you suddenly dismiss and go to get off his lap.

Groaning sulkily, Javi yanks you back down. "Just tell me," he bites out crankily.

"No, you have enough shit to deal with, and the last thing I should do is bring up something that's going to piss you off, so forget I mentioned it," you snap right back and tap at his forearms to be withdrawn from keeping you pinned to his lap.

He's aggravated, but he stretches his arms along the back of the couch so you can shimmy off his lap and go to the fridge for a glass of water. "Well, I'm going to be gone for only a few hours, hopefully," he mutters as he bounds up and heads for the bathroom.

"Hey," you call out to him, so he backpedals and glances over at you. Stepping aside, you hold open the fridge door to show him the tray of lasagna you have wrapped snug in tinfoil on the bottom shelf. "Lasagna for dinner?" you lilt and bat your lashes innocently at him.

Javi can't help crack a smile at that. "Yeah, that sounds great," he rumbles and takes a few long strides towards you, shutting the fridge and backing you into it so he can steal a hungry kiss before grabbing your ass and husking provocatively, "And for dessert, you're gonna get a moustache ride tonight—"

"Javier!" you squeak and swat at him as he cheekily nuzzles his stubbly features into your neck while he gives your waist a saucy squeeze. "Fucking fresco," you giggle when he leaves a purposely-sloppy kiss on your cheek and struts off with a smug smirk.

"You love it, malcriada," he offers cockily over his shoulder and enters the bathroom, shutting the door after himself.

Wrinkling your nose, you grunt, because you most certainly do love your fresh, shameless stud, and it grinds your gears how smugly he knows it. Pouring yourself a drink of water you chug greedily, you squint deviously as you hear the shower kick on.

Javier is in the middle of scrubbing the suds out of his hair when he hears you sneak into the bathroom, and the sensual thrill tickles down into his apex when he feels you step into the shower stall with him has his pulse buzzing.

You were just about to trail your hands teasingly down his broad, muscled back when you notice the bruise on the back of his right thigh. At your fretting gasp, he scrubs the soap out of his eyes. "What?"

"What's this from?" you ask and gently brush your touch over the tennis ball-sized bruise.

He doesn't betray a hint of discomfort and glances over his shoulder before pivoting his hips to get a glimpse at the spot. With a dismissive grunt, he retorts, "From the chase yesterday. I must've gotten it when I dropped down to the street from the balcony—"

"¿Qué?" you balk, incredulous. "You jumped off a freaking balcony?!"

"Dropped down from a balcony," he corrects, as if there's a distinction. "The fucker gave us the slip when he ran up into a second-story apartment, so I just swung over the banister and lowered myself down, but when I dropped onto the sidewalk, I landed wrong." You make a displeased sound and start checking him over for other bruises, earning his wry chuckle. "I'm fine, querida."

Pressing against his warm, wet back, you plant a kiss between his shoulder blades. "You gotta get more field agents to do all this knock around shit instead," you remark, peeved that he's still personally running after fucking suspects and flirting up contacts when he's the head of his department. "You're running the agency down here now, so I don't get why you're going 21 Jump Street out there still—"

"Because I don't trust anyone else to do it," he cuts in and turns in your arms to maneuver you to be in front of the showerhead. He notices that you have some finger-sized bruises on your hips, and that conflicting flicker of hesitant feral pride settles behind his sternum.

Stubbornly, you turn back around to face him, and with your hair pulled up into a bun, the cascade runs down your bare back and shoulders while you size him up imperiously. Javier's distracted by an idle thought of how amazing you looked getting railed by him in the mirror last night, so with a grunt, you narrow your eyes at him and drawl, "What about your guys in Cali?"

"They're in Cali," he grouses, and when he senses that doesn't appease you, he plants a kiss to your cheek and exits the shower. "And from what Stoddard told me, they had their hands full with the attempted hit on Miguel Rodríguez at a nightclub last night. Fucking place got annihilated with bullets," he tells you as he dries off and wraps the towel around his waist before going to the sink to brush his teeth.

Frowning, you start to go through the motions of bathing, lathering up your soap and scrubbing yourself clean while you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. When he starts applying his shaving cream to his face, you ask, "Can't you at least get agents to accompany you on these operations? Like you did when you captured Gilberto Rodríguez?"

Javi pauses the razor at his cheek and glances over at you. You look lovely – all soapy and wet while in your nude glory in his shower, so it takes him a second to collect his thoughts and answer, "It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out thing. Regardless, I can handle chasing a money launderer without needing to be shadowed by some junior agents."

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you turn back to the water cascade. "I know that…I just don't see why you have to be the one out there executing the operation—"

"Please don't tell me how to do my job."

The curt remark gives you pause, and you take a moment to count to ten before letting impulse take over. So, instead of haranguing him haughtily, you work on choosing your next words wisely.

Javier's brooding and hurriedly trying to finish shaving before you unleash on him, so when you don't say anything immediately, he feels like a fucking asshole all over again.

"I just worry about you all the time and it scares me that you're going after these people with no real support."

Blinking over at you, Javi watches you turn your face away, hiding your conflicted expression from him as you idly rinse off under the warm water.

You're a complete fucking asshole, Javi internally admonishes before offering tensely, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you—"

"I would never tell you how to do your job," you suddenly state as you turn the shower off and reach for the towel hung up on the rack in order to dry yourself while still inside the stall as you add, "But, I'm really trying here. I support everything you do, but I can't pretend it doesn't make me uneasy knowing you're out in the field like that…"

He internally swears at how fucking callous he was. He's unable to hold your gaze, so he finishes shaving and collects his thoughts. It isn't fair of him to expect you to be a blind participant, but he has nothing reassuring to tell you that will quell your concerns long term. Splashing water onto his features and glaring at his toothbrush holder, Javi measures out his response before turning to face you again.

"It's not like before," he begins, and when you wrap the towel almost protectively around yourself, he helps lead you out of the shower so he can tow you to the bedroom before he sits you down on the corner of the bed. "When I was in Medellín, I didn't care about anything but results. We'd go in on ops ready to do fucking anything…crossed the line with little regard if we got hurt. It's not like that anymore."

You want to call him out – tell him that's not true and that just because he had no partner to back him up on the reckless pursuit, didn't mean he wasn't still putting himself in harm's way. But his eyes are insistent, expression etched in resoluteness as he leans down and kisses your lips. So, you bottle it up, swallow all the worry down and just sigh and lean back onto your elbows to musingly gaze at him.

"Just make sure you come home to me in one piece every time, agente," you murmur, teasingly trailing your foot up his towel-clad thigh to trace his hipbone.

His eyes smolder at that as he takes your foot and bracelets your ankle with a hum. "I will, directora," he purrs and skims his thumb along a tendon in your foot, one he knows tickles, and grins when a giggled protest bubbles up from you. Leaning over to nuzzle you, he mutters, "I gotta go, but I'll be home for dinner. I promise."

With a doting peck, he goes to quickly get dressed. Javier notices the outfit you've hung for him and smirks, glancing fondly over his shoulder at you as you're closing your fluffy robe and tying the sash while you slip into your slippers. By the time he's fully dressed, Javi's pocketing his satellite phone in his jacket and going over to grab his keys, on his way to the door when you slink up behind him to hug him goodbye. "Lasagna's going in the oven at 5pm."

He smiles, spinning you around so he can squeeze you affectionately and give you a teasing kiss on the lips. "I'll definitely be home before then, hermosa," he assures before tapping your ass and smirking when you huff and hold the door open for him. "Pórtate bien."

"Look who's talking," you drawl and raise a sarcastic brow, but your lips are smirking at him as he struts out in his dark blue jeans, cream-colored button shirt, and brown leather jacket. Once he's in the elevator, you blow him a silly kiss, and he shakes his head amusedly and winks at you just as the doors close.

With a drawn out sigh, you close the door and go to get dressed. You'd much prefer to run a bath and have a nice, long soak, but Javier's bathroom didn't have a tub. Strike one of many for this flat, you think to yourself as you pull on a soft black cotton blouse with a purple filigree pattern and a buttery, well-worn pair of light-wash jeans. Turning the TV on, you let it play in the background as you undress the bed and put the linen in the wash before tidying up things in the bathroom. You busy yourself with some light cleaning, and when you take a break to sit on the couch, you end up conking out for a mid-morning nap.

You're stirred awake by the afternoon news, which is recapping the violent chaos in a Cali nightclub during the height of the city's salsa festival. Pulling the throw up around you as you shift to lounge against the armrest, you listen to the harrowing accounts. Said accounts speak to a random act of violence, while the account Javi's getting from Feistl on the phone speaks to anything but.

"—Our informant said it was Norte Del Valle trying to take out Miguel Rodríguez. They were adamant it was them, from the looks of the guys, their firepower," he pauses, as if Van Ness is telling him something. "And yeah, CNP ID'd some of the shooters. Confirmed they're known sicarios from that outfit."

"Tell me again just how in the hell you two were on scene when the shootout started?" Javier crossly drawls, sitting at the edge of his desk and nursing his cigarette while Stoddard is at his phone talking to his CNP contact about the Christina Jurado disappearance.

"So…we weren't sure our informant was totally on the level, and figured we'd go survey the event ourselves," Feistl remarks, and Javi rolls his eyes. "They'd insisted that it would've been the perfect shot at arresting Rodríguez, but with little to go on, we knew we couldn't take that to anyone here…"

Pressing the heel of his hand into his temple impatiently, Javi deadpans, "Great. Anything else?"

"Actually, yes. We pressured them to give us Miguel Rodríguez's current location, and…we got it," Feistl tells him hesitantly.

"Way to bury the fucking lead," Javier snipes as he stubs his cigarette out and adjusts the phone from being propped to his ear by his shoulder into his hand instead. "Well? Where the fuck is he at?"

"…That's the thing, boss. We want to take a couple of days to vet it before we bring it to you for approval. Our informant's real skittish about too many people knowing we're talking to 'em," the intrepid agent tells him, and Javier can't help respect it, even if it annoys the piss out of him. "We'll brief you once we're sure."

"Fine. Just, watch your asses out there, Feistl. You can never be too sure about a C.I.," he warns before hanging up.

"Boss?" Javier looks up and sees Stoddard hovering in the door, so he nods for him to come in. "It looks like the female driver was collateral damage. Her jacket was clean, and while she had a small amount of cocaine in her purse, it doesn't seem like she was anything more than a hairdresser," he tells Javier.

Javier rubs at his temples and exhales. "She was probably driving Christina as a favor," he huffs. "Dammit…"

"Cali most likely put her in a safe house?" his deputy questions out loud.

"…I'm not sure. They'd want to keep Franklin from cooperating, so killing his wife could trigger the opposite outcome, but I just don't know," Javier mutters before pushing off his desk and going to grab his leather jacket from the back of his chair. "Without any leads, there's not much we can do," he grumbles as he shrugs the jacket on.

"Well, there was a wire that came in this morning about some kind of shootout at a upscale ranch in Mexico late last night. Authorities think one of the Cali godfather's was the target, but nothing concrete yet," Stoddard mentions, and Javier betrays a dry grunt of intrigue. "Could mean their competition is making a play?"

"Like you said, nothing concrete yet. We'll just have to see," Javi muses as he gives his deputy a cool look. "Call me if anything new comes over the wires," is his offhand request as he breezes by the man and makes his exit.

Does he feel bad that his deputy has to keep the Sunday vigil in the office? Fuck no. Javier had spent plenty a-weekend shift on-call, and if he's the boss now, he gets to duck out and go home.

Go home to you.

When he walks into the apartment, he's surprised to find you already in the kitchen.

"Hey!" you call out and smile over your shoulder at him as you wash the romaine lettuce leaves in the sink. "Great timing. I need your help opening that bottle for me."

Warmed by the effortlessly welcoming, domesticity of finding you at home in his abode, Javi sheds his jacket, tosses it onto the leather chair in the living room, and leaves his satellite phone on the counter as he strides over to the kitchen and catalogues the fresh produce and still-warm baguette-style loaf of bread sitting on the counter next to the wine bottle you gestured to. "You went shopping?" he asks as he hitches up behind you and kisses your waiting lips.

"Yep. I'm not a wine person, but Ellis opened up a Chianti Classico to pair with the lasagna yesterday, and it was so good," you tell him as you shake the excess water from the romaine and place them on the cutting board. "I called and asked him where he got it, so I went to pick up a bottle. There was a market next door, so I picked up a few accompaniments."

He hums as he inspects the bottle, leaning his hip into the kitchen counter. "Trying to wine and dine me, are we?" he can't help tease, smirking when you amusedly shake your head at him and dry your hands. "You didn't have to go through the trouble—"

"What trouble? It's salad, garlic bread, and wine, chulito," you chuckle as you slink up against him and let him slip his free hand into the back pocket of your jeans. "But I'm not an expert at successfully uncorking wine bottles, so I need to trouble you with that," is your light-hearted petition.

Javi grunts wryly and pecks you on the lips before shifting to start searching for a corkscrew. "Oh, I'm so put out," he sarcastically deadpans as he sorts through a drawer, adding tauntingly, "You're lucky I'm such an easy date—"

"So I've been told," you razz, and he irreverently turns to encircle your waist and haul you against him when you'd started shuffling away. You giggle when he nuzzles your neck from behind before nudging his temple into the side of your head in an affectionate-but-dominant gesture.

Relenting only when you bump your hip against him and purse your lips at him to get to work, Javi lets you strut back to the cutting board. While he works at opening the bottle, you chop up a nice light salad and work on whipping up a vinaigrette for it before crushing the fresh garlic for the spread you'll slather on the pieces of bread. Once the garlic bread has toasted nicely in the oven, you pull it out and place the lasagna in.

You let him snack on a piece once you've made sure they've rested enough not to burn the roof of his mouth.

"Fuck…Murphy would be so jealous of me right now," Javier chuckles as he licks his fingers while you snicker and wipe the kitchen counter. "He declared your lasagna as the best he's ever had in his life."

You chuckle, smiling as you dust your hands off before brushing your stray wisps of hair behind your ears. "How is he?" you inquire affably as you lope back to him and pick up your wine glass to have a sip.

"Good. He's completed the transition into whipped husband and father," Javi jokes as he encircles your waist and holds you against him while he sits on the stool and steals your glass so he can have a taste.

"Que malo eres," you playfully tut, grinning when you scurry to sit on his lap so you can affectionately pick a crumb from the corner of his moustache and pop into your mouth. "What am I gonna do with you," is your amused lilt, eyes crinkling with mirth when he wrinkles his nose at you.

"So many things," he purrs and sets the glass aside on the counter so he can properly loop his arms around you and nose the wisps of hair next to your ear. "How long 'til the lasagna's ready?" Javi asks in a murmur.

"…Maybe 20 minutes?" you answer breathily when he starts kissing down your neck.

"Wanna fool around on the couch?" he huskily proposes, soulful eyes heavy-lidded as he brushes his nose against yours.

You smile and nod, so he easily sweeps you up and takes you to the sofa. It's ridiculous, but you end up making out like teenagers on the cozy couch, and you relish how hot and bothered he gets when you carve your hips around his and suckle into that spot under his jaw. He seems to really enjoy rubbing up against each other in your jeans, and you are tingling in your core from how he clutches your thigh to pull your crotch flush against his to grind into you. Dimly, you add his cozy long couch as a plus of his apartment, seeing as he's able to stretch his broad frame out comfortably on it while you tease and edge each other. You especially like it that he can arch easily to allow for you to slip your hand down the waistband of his jeans to palm his filled out length over his underwear.

"S-Shit," he gasps, arching his head back to groan, "You're being bad, teasing me."

"Doesn't sound like anything bad to me," you purr and suckle on his bottom lip before grazing your teeth over the plump morsel. His cock twitches against your palm, making you smile.

He growls and starts trying to unfasten your jeans when you yank his hand away and tilt it so you can look at the watch fastened on his wrist. "Timeout. Gotta check on dinner," you murmur before kissing his lips and ambling nimbly off the couch to skip to the kitchen.

"Christ," he swears under his breath, worked up and antsy now to have you.

"It's ready! Just need to sit and rest for a bit," you tell him over your shoulder as you pull the lasagna tray out of the oven with the mittens and place it on the stovetop. You hear Javi muttering in a surly snit as he gets up from the couch to go splash some cold water on his face. Grinning, you innocently busy yourself in the kitchen, knowing if you say anything now he's going to toss you over his shoulder and take you to bed so he can have his way with you.

Javi's debating doing just that as he shuts the sink faucet and dries his face with the fresh towel you set out. Glancing around the bathroom, he notices you tidied up, replenished the towels on the shelf and rack, and stored the ceramic holder he'd put your tampons in and placed at the back of the commode in the bottom sink cabinet. He recalls last night's wild sex session and the lack of skittishness from you, and the absence of any stain-making aftereffects from the feral coupling, so he lopes back into the main room with a teasing smirk.

You've just plated the rest of the garlic bread when he comes up behind you and presses his nose to the back of your neck before trailing it up into your hairline. "I'm a jerk," he grunts, and you hum questioningly, so he drawls, "I was so in my head last night, I didn't notice your visitor left."

You snort. "Bitch came early and left early," you quip. "And Christ, don't tell me you grew up calling a period a 'monthly visitor'—"

"Well, yeah! My Pops is pretty old school about that stuff, and my mom didn't go around announcing it," he answers your sarcastic giggle wryly. "My cousins though? They set me straight on all that stuff," Javi mentions and shrugs when you turn in his arms and smile up at him.

"You mean scared you straight," is your wily tease.

"Uh, yeah, pretty much," he chuckles, and when you bounce your brows and hum in a way that says 'Tell me more', he rolls his eyes and pours himself a glass of Chianti. "Like I said, I was the only boy for a while, so they'd have fun putting me on the spot – asking me stuff they knew I didn't know anything about just to spring the details on me and laugh when I'd react," Javi remarks. "They'd go, 'Javicito! Do you know what a clitoris is?' and I'd just shake my head, so then they'd cajole me to guess, and I'd say something like, 'A type of flower?' and Lucía would sputter to not laugh while Carla and Magda went into great detail explaining what it was—"

"Oh my god," you cackle out and try not to grin at his expense. "That's so mean!"

"Pssh, it was funny. I remember yelling at them that girls were freaks before stomping off, and they just laughed their asses off. They eventually quit hassling me once Danny was born and they were forced to babysit him during the get-togethers," he reminisces before taking a long sip from his glass. "Couldn't talk about sex and genitalia while alternating rocking a baby to sleep."

You laugh, mirthful and melodiously endeared by the image of a scrappy little Javi plugging his ears and yelling about weird girls. "I'm sorry to laugh, but that's just too hilarious," is your giggled musing as you lean up and kiss his cheek. "Pobrecito."

"I got them back, though. Eventually," he remarks smugly before taking another long sip in order to let your curiosity bubble up. And by the dazzling flicker in your eyes and the quirk of intrigue in your plush lips, he knows he's got it, so he sets the wine glass aside and drawls, "One time, during a gathering when I was back from school, we were all sitting around sneaking whiskey behind the barn, and I told them I knew some of their friends on campus, and then thanked them for always teaching me girl stuff, because it made it easy to get their girl friends in bed."

The scandalized laugh is exactly what he was hoping for. "You wicked stud muffin," is your flirty giggle. "And how'd they react to that little turn of the table?"

"They all yelled in outrage, and Carla threw her chancleta at me," he tells you, and you laugh hard, burying your face in his chest. "But then Lucía said something like, 'At least make sure you get them off every time, Javicito!' – so no irreparable damage done."

You laugh until your breathless, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes before letting out that soft, discordant sigh. Javi loves to make you laugh, to revel in your silly carefree smile and resplendent gaze admiringly staring up at him after a bout of mirth.

"You were just a sweet, innocently wholesome good boy, huh," is your amused purr as you lean back against the opposite counter.

"Until I hit puberty, sure," he jibes and toys his thumb along his bottom lip. "You strike me as always being a wild little atrevida," Javi purrs and smirks when you try to feign an innocent, beatific smile, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head to the side.

"I guess I might've had my moments before puberty," you chime before flouncing to the stovetop to check the lasagna. "Ok, I think it's good to eat now."

You both set out to do your part to set dinner on the table, and before long, you're sitting across from each other and enjoying the meal. It brings you indescribable joy to watch Javier eat with gusto, enjoying the hearty bounty you've prepared over the fantastic bottle of wine. Said bottle of wine easily get's drained between the two of you over stories and laughter, and when he cajoles you to divulge any anecdote as equally as scandalous as what he'd told you, it was easy to relent.

"—She hit him with a broom?!" he sputters in scandalized laughter.

"With a broomstick," you correct, and he just laughs, which makes you grin. "She chased him down the block and I just stood there, mortified, while the neighbors started peeking out windows and shit," you pause when he snickers and tries to smother his laughter with the napkin. The way his dark coffee eyes twinkle when they're cresting from his jollity always makes you melt. "There. Happy?"

"Yeah, that makes us even," he chuckles, and you cluck your tongue in triumph before skimming your bare foot along his ankle. His eyes narrow provocatively at you before he glances at the dregs of dinner. "I think someone's tipsy," he purrs before he empties his wine glass in a gulp and exhales contently.

"Oh?" you lilt innocently, but you know you're feeling nice and toasty. Wine always goes to your head quick and makes for a terrible headache in the morning if you didn't eat anything. It also has an uncanny knack for flushing the apples of your cheeks and making you smiley.

He eyes you like you're his next course. "Yep. I might have to carry you to bed and tuck you in—"

"Pfft, please!" you scoff brazenly and stand, starting to clear the table and wrinkling your nose at him mischievously. "Maybe if we'd had another bottle of wine, guapetón. I'm no lightweight," you tut imperiously as you saunter with the dishes to the sink.

He snorts derisively and takes the empty bottle and glasses up from the table in order to set them aside on the kitchen counter before he slinks up behind you and whispers, "We should get drunk and see where the night takes us, then," he murmurs in a honeyed baritone that zings into your core and tingles delight in you, making you hot and wet for him.

"I only bought the one bottle though—" you begin to breathily retort when he surprises you by shifting to open a bottom cabinet you haven't looked in prior, and fishes out a bottle of Cabernet. You gasp and shut the sink off to haughtily shake your hands dry before putting them on your hips. "Seriously? Hidden wine? Are you trying to clue me into you being an alchy?" is your sassy jibe.

"Nope, the previous tenant left 'em. I don't usually deviate from whiskey, so I stored them down here," Javier explains amusedly as he goes to work uncorking the bottle. "You better have all that packed away by the time I get this damn thing open, traviesa," he tells you and nods his head to the food on the counter as he starts prying the wrapper from the top of the bottle.

You dramatically hum at him with a silly purse to your lips as you race to wrap and store the leftovers in different lunch containers before arranging them on the fridge shelves. The sound of the corkscrew being worked to uncork the bottle with a suctioned pop comes just as you close the fridge door and teasingly eye him. With a cocky smirk, Javi pours you a generous serving into your wine glass before doing the same with his.

After he's handed your glass over, he charmingly leans close and toasts, "To us," before you both clink your glasses, making sure to take long sips while keeping avid eye contact with each other in order to avoid seven years of bad sex.

But really – you and Javi? Bad sex? You snicker to yourself.

Taking yourselves and the wine to the couch, you drink and cuddle up while regaling each other with more silly anecdotes of your childhoods. By the time the starlight is coming in from the windows and the bottle of Cabernet has been drained, you're both eyeing each other under heavy lids and tipsy smiles. Quickly, they become lustful stares as you set your glass aside on the coffee table and prowl over him to resume your fooling around from earlier. Javi manages to slide his glass onto the table just as you drape onto him to kiss him sultrily. He hums, parting his lips to let your tongues twirl languidly against each other while his hands start to possessively fondle down your curves. You bury your tapered fingers into his soft tufts, yanking lightly on the curls when he slips his thigh between your legs and grinds you down on it.

A moan escapes you when he has you ride his thigh while he pushes up your shirt and mouths your breasts after yanking your bra down. He can feel how warm you are – how your pussy pulses through the denim as you rut against him. "Fuck, Javi…" you groan hungrily and adjust to let him pull you down and roll on top of you on the sofa. You hook your legs around his hips and anchor him to press his weight onto you as you cling your arms behind his shoulders and kiss him with need. The delectable feel of his arousal grinding into you and his shuddering grunt has you soaked, tingling to be filled to the hilt by his cock. "Mmm, want it," you hiss between kisses before nudging his jaw and suckling possessively into his neck.

Javi moans when your teeth graze his skin. "That's it," he growls as he suddenly ambles up from the couch and pulls you up with him before he tosses you over his shoulder. "Bed, right fucking now," he grouses and bounds in a rushed stride with you to the bedroom.

"Ay, Javi. Me mareo," you tipsily hiccup in a silly whine, so he gently adjusts you in his arms and places you on the bed. With a giggly sigh, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down onto you for more salacious making out. He smiles drunkenly when you cling to him and purr, "Having you on top of me is my favorite thing," then sigh wistfully when he rests his weight on you.

"Such a sexy little thing," he murmurs as he kisses down your neck and starts unfastening your jeans while you unbutton his shirt with clumsy fingers between brushes of lips and drunken nuzzling.

Your hands hastily yank his shirt open and off his shrugging arms before he manages to tug your jeans open and down your thighs. The sight of your panties being soaked through under the lowlight coming from the main room has Javi groaning and straining in his pants. You gasp and arch when his fingers rub you over the drenched fabric while you squirm to kick your jeans the rest of the way off your legs when Javi groans into your mouth from you gripping the back of his hair. Sexually-charged sparks are igniting wildly in you at the feel of his fingers starting to ruck the crotch of your panties aside, and just when your hand has successfully undone his jeans enough for you to slip your talented digits to wrap around his warm, throbbing length, a loud ringing starts echoing in the apartment.

Dimly, you struggle to figure out what it is when Javi stiffens and flops his head down on the bed next to yours with a snarled, "Fuck!" coming from behind clenched jaw before he sits up and stares down at you with flustered exasperation. "Stay. Don't move," he grouses and kisses you reassuringly before bounding off the bed in just his unzipped jeans and stalking in a frustrated huff to the main room to answer his satellite phone. While you lie tipsily on the bed, you hear Javi bark, "Peña," before going eerily quiet, then snapping, "You gotta be kidding me…a church?!"

Perplexed, you lie there and clumsily fidget to peel off your panties before absently stripping out of the rest of your clothes from how hot and uncomfortable you suddenly feel as the wine starts to hit you. Your mind is trying to stay clear, but right now the lizard impulse sector of your brain just wants Javi naked and in bed and inside you right now. Fisting your fingers impatiently in your hair, you inelegantly pull it loose from the bun and try to comb it out while you strain to hear Javi's side of the convo.

"—Herrera must be wanting payback. Get the witness statements on my desk first thing. Gonna have to deal with the fallout of the capos hitting back at them…" Javier sullenly mutters as he paces back and forth.

You can hear his steps as he rounds the room, and when you can't help yourself any longer, you crawl up off the bed and tip toe to the door to watch him. The way his smooth back is stiff, shoulders are bunched up, and right hand is ticking at his side reflexively tells you he's getting stressed out. So, you lope daintily out to the hall and wait for him to notice you. When he turns and sees you, his surly glower becomes a riveted leer – getting lost in your nude form while you stand there with your hair wildly cascading down your shoulders, giving him a pouty look, before he clears his throat and interrupts Stoddard.

"No point on analyzing it right now. We'll hash it out tomorrow, first thing," he tells his deputy before gruffly ending the call.

"What happened?" you ask in a whisper once he's slid the phone back to the counter.

"…Nothing important for you to worry about," he mumbles and turns to quirk his eyebrow challengingly before giving you a smoldering once-over. "Didn't I tell you to stay in bed?" His voice hits that gravelly timbre as he lopes towards you, and excitement flutters in your stomach while your cunt clenches at how no-nonsense his expression is.

Smiling impishly, you teasingly scamper a few steps back when he gets close, and Javi eyes you intensely before agilely scooping you up and taking you back to bed. You laugh and cling to him lovingly as you brush flirty kisses along his cheek before he leans back from placing you down on the bed. He watches with lustful dark eyes as you stretch out like a naughty minx while he hastily sheds the remainder of his clothes.

Flopping onto the bed next to you once he's in his nude glory, he nuzzles your shoulder before ordering, "Come sit on my face."

You let out a breathy sound of thrill before you protest, "B-But, I want you in my mouth—"

"Later," he growls and taps your thigh ruggedly, then stretches out and eyes you, turned on with how you suck in your bottom lip stubbornly in ambivalence as you stare down his body and gaze hungrily at his cock. It's thick, hard and flushed, and all you want is to suck on it. Provocatively, he grunts while caressing his palm up the valley of your breasts to cup your chin and redirect your gaze to stare doe-eyed at him. "Need that pussy. Wanna taste it – have it ride my fucking tongue until you come," Javi husks while his other hand touches himself. "Then, you can put my cock in that sexy mouth of yours."

Even though you are very uninhibited and aroused right now, you still fidget. "I-I should shower first—"

He rolls to loop his arm around your waist and tug you close. "No. I love the way you smell without soap covering it all up," he husks in your ear before kissing a path down your jaw. "Love you sweaty and warm," his voice is a purr as he traces his lips down your neck. "How good your pussy tastes, get high on your scent when you're all hot and wet—"

Even though you're beyond turned on and yearning, the exhilarating, naughty awe has you blushing with demure shyness. He's so unselfconscious sharing his filthy adoration that you giggle, "Such a dirty boy, Javi."

He grins, the dimple teasing you as he adjusts to effortlessly haul you to straddle him. You gasp when he licks a studded nipple before purring, "What can I say. I'm wild for your juicy pussy—"

You scoff a scandalized sound before swatting him and giggling, "Eww! That sounds nasty—"

"Jesus, it's the best," he counters adamantly and play-wrestles with you. "C'mon, baby—"

"Quit begging, you filthy fresco," you chuckle bossily and wring your wrists to the side, which move his toned arms out of the way for you to lean over him and lick his lips lewdly.

"Hah! Tan pinche atrevida," he growls and easily overpowers you by looping his arms around your waist and hauling you to press flush over his torso so he can kiss you breathless.

The fact he is so shameless in his arousal and attraction to every part of you has you cunt aching. So, you decide to compromise. Breaking the kiss and panting sexily, you tell him, "I'll sit on your face if I can suck you off at the same time."

He growls, but you see the allure the ultimatum has when he squints daringly at you and commands, "Fine, but I'm not finishing in your mouth—"

"Booo," you jeer comically and pout as you toss your hair in a bratty flare while flattening your breasts against his chest.

"Baby, you're cruising for a spanking instead right now," he razzes in a husky drawl and taps your ass for emphasis.

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you scamper up and kiss him on the lips before shifting so you can both sixty-nine. As you get in position, you kiss down his body all the way down until you're able to reach his cock, humming at the gleam of pre-cum that's collected at the slit on the soft, smooth tip. Javier groans when you take it into your mouth and suckle on it, hands gripping your thighs as he rolls his head back and revels in the sinfully amazing heat of your mouth around him for a moment. He finds himself letting you have your fun while he admiringly stares at your flushed and puffy pussy, enjoying how eagerly you're sucking him off and watching how much it turns you on.

When he suddenly licks up into cunt, you make a warbling sound around his cock before bobbing your mouth off to gasp from the next long swipe he laves from your clit to perineum. "Ah, oh god—" you moan and try not to buck down on him.

"Mmm, you like that," he tells you in a guttural purr. "Your pussy clenched around nothing—" Javi's cocky observation careens to a halt when you growl and squeeze his base while burying the length of his throbbing dick in your mouth before hollowing out your cheeks with a deft suck. He's sure his brain hazed out for a moment, because his throaty moan sounds shocked when you lightly squeezed his sac in time with the next hard suck around his cock. "F-Fuck," he gasps harshly and writhes under you, so you hum salaciously around him and start sucking him with true vigor now. "Oh shit-shit—oh fuck, querida, w-wait," Javi starts to groan in desperate warning, but you ignore him and keep sucking him off like you're trying to make a point. He realizes it too, because next thing you know, Javi's pivoted you off from straddling him.

You yelp in surprise as you flop onto your back, but have no time to recover from the shock and drunken vertigo when he shifts up on the bed in order to yank your thighs open before diving headfirst between them. The enthralled gasp you let out is muffled by your thighs pressing shut around his head as he starts eating you out after he sits up and balances your lower half up with him. In this upside-down-bent position, you can only hook your legs over his shoulders and grip the bed beneath you as he buries his face in your cunt and devours you. Even in the precariously balanced vantage point, you stare up in heady rapture and watch Javier bury his tongue into your clenching slit, how he twirls it around the fluttering hole before spearing the talented appendage as far as it can go in you.

He groans into your pussy when he feels you start to wind up with an impending orgasm, and your shallow, mewled whimpers tell him you're on the edge. So he flicks the tip of his tongue in you while his thumb grinds ruinously over your clit. You feel yourself writhe and lockup as your climax floods over you, whimpered, "Oh my god! Oh god, Javi—!" coming out as a strung together exclamation as you come on his tongue.

Javier lets out a triumphant, primal growl and languidly licks into you until you go slack in his hold. When you come back from the floating ecstasy, your cum is all over his lips and chin when he crawls over you and gazes down at you with lustful accomplishment. His pupils are blown out, shoulders broad and bunched up as he nudges himself to be flush between your thighs before he starts rutting his cock into your drench, slippery heat. You moan and hitch your hips up to chase the plunge of his cock, wanting to be filled by it so bad.

"Touch yourself, preciosa. Let me see you play with your clit while I give you my cock," Javi husks and rubs his cock through your dripping folds. You mewl and start rubbing your clit with one hand while you reach for his face with the other. Javi groans and leans down to meet your lips, letting you lick into his mouth and suck your taste off of his full, pillowy morsel. "See how good you taste?" he can't help purr before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth just as he notches the head of his cock into your dimpled entrance.

You arch and cry out in excitement when he thrusts into your silken sheath while you keep delicious pressure on your clit, butterflying your legs out to give into Javi having complete control.

"Yeah, just like that, hermosa. Keep rubbing that sweet little clit for me," he praises while he sets a bruising pace in the piston-like strokes of his cock, groaning hoarsely on a particularly rough slam of his hips, "Wanna make you come with me this time."

He's planted his fists into the bed for balance and purchase, hunching over you and reveling in your desperate little mewls of mounting gratification, getting so close to falling off the precipice into scintillating pleasure. He doesn't want to leave marks on you this time, so he bites his bottom lip and concentrates on keeping his hands on the bed – propping him up over you while you now wrap your legs around him and fist a hand in the back of his hair while the other still rubs your clit.

"Oh Javi, mmph—Javi! I'm close—"

"Me too," he grits out and keeps thrusting, only deeper and faster now once you've tugged on his hair and earned a feral snarl from him before he moves a hand from digging into the bed to instead squeeze your tit and pinch your nipple.

You cry out in overwhelmed bliss, digging your heels into his lats as your cunt squeezes and wrings around him just as his cock swells and he gruffly moans. Climaxing together is mind melting and soul shaking, leaving you both curling into each other and chasing the delirium of prolonging the carnal heat your senses are in.

The pulsing throb of your cunt and the drag of his cock mystify you both into cuddling heaps as you recover from the powerful orgasms, drunken haze burned up in your systems thoroughly enough to allow for you both to feel clearheaded and sated.

When Javi goes to get up from the bed, you protest with a needy hum and cling to him. "No. Stay," you mumble into his neck as you curl up against him and loop your arms possessively around him.

"You're the one that doesn't like to be sticky," he chuckles tiredly.

"I like it right now. Stay, Javi," you murmur and kiss a luscious path up his neck to his cheek.

Javier sidles your leg over his hip and carves up against you before brushing reverent kisses along your warm, dewy skin. You both lie in a spent, entwined cuddle for a while, just kissing and nuzzling until the high of the burned up booze and the mellow serenity that comes over you after an amazing, passionate coupling settles over you both.

You're drowsily drifting when Javi murmurs, "What'd I do to deserve you…"

Sighing sleepily, you mumble, "Be a great man," before yawning and nuzzling into his cheek. "And dead-sexy."

He snorts an endearing laugh and brushes his mustachioed lips along your ear. "You can't fall asleep like this, cariño," Javier whispers before kissing the corner of your cheekbone. When you just hum and cuddle into him, he murmurs, "Alright," and pulls you into his arms, carrying you to be tucked into the pillows and under the covers before he goes to shut the lights off and slides into bed with you.

Letting out a content little sigh, you loop your arm around him and mumble, "You know I love you, right?"

Javi snickers into your hair and nods. "Yeah. And I love you too, you know that?"

"Mmhmm," you mumble sweetly and squeeze him.

Smiling, Javi rests his head on the pillow and listens to your breathing even out before he too succumbs to wine and sex-fueled exhaustion.

It's early when you start to wake up from the sound and feel of something being slid onto the bed. The smell of brewed coffee and something savory tickles your nose and stirs you fully awake. Tiredly unfurling under the covers, you turn in bed to blearily see the tray Javi just placed down on the soft surface before he sits and leans over to kiss the top of your mussed head.

"Rise and shine, querida," he purrs softly, and picks up his own coffee mug from the tray.

"…What's all this?" you pipe out around a yawn before sitting up fully and pulling the sheet up to ward off the chill in the room. As you rub the sleep from your gaze, you take in the plates of huevos rancheros and the steaming cup of coffee sitting on the tray before snickering and giving Javi a lopsided smirk. "You stole my idea—"

"Nope. I was just able to successfully make it happen," he jibes and kisses your cheek.

You happily shuffle closer and wrap your arms around his neck before kissing him chastely on the lips. "Thank you," is your soft murmur as you affectionately brush your nose against his.

He pats your thigh and playfully nudges his temple to yours. "Eat before it gets cold."

You both share breakfast in bed together, enjoying the quiet moment over coffee and his specialty while the sun's rays start to flare into the apartment. "Mmm, this is so good, babe," you tell him before sipping your coffee. "Definitely needed something to stave off the hangover," is your silly quip as you watch him set his empty plate aside and stretch the muscles in his back.

"Hmph, that's what I wanted to hear," he charms before kissing your shoulder. "By the way? You're right," he remarks and nods towards the outfit you picked out for him hung up on the top of the closet door. "That shouldn't look half-bad on," Javi tells you genuinely.

You smile around the last bite of your eggs before washing them down and sighing contently. "So you'll be able to make it tonight?"

Taking your empty plate and stacking it with his on the tray, he nods and retorts, "I'm pretty sure I can. I'll know for sure once I meet with Stoddard." When you hum and shimmy to reach for your discarded robe, he asks, "So what's the plan? Meet here and go together?"

"Actually, I'm going to my place to shower and get dressed after work, then taking a taxi to Ellis and Anita's so we and can do our hair and makeup together," you tell him as you climb out of bed and slip into your slippers before amending, "Well, so Anita can help me with my makeup. Want to meet at their place and carpool with them?"

Picking up the tray and taking it up, he remarks, "Yeah, that's fine. And your intern?"

You follow him out to the kitchen and take the dishes to the sink before he's even set the tray down. "She said she'd meet us at the museum," you answer and smile when he grunts and steers you away from trying to wash the dishes.

"You know, I met her the other day," Javi comments, wrinkling his nose when you dig your heels in and grab his pajama-bottom-clad ass, thwarting him from trying to maneuver you back to the bedroom.

"While I definitely want to hear what your impression is, we gotta shower, guapito," you chime and goofily loop your arms backwards around his waist and duck-walk into the bathroom. "I can't believe I was so drunk I didn't drag you to the shower last night!"

"Drunk on my cock, you mean," he mutters in a daringly crass aside, to which you dig your fingers into his lower back and knead cheekily, earning a wry hiss. "Easy, woman—"

"Get your raunchy ass in the shower already, beyako," you order in a saucy snap after you turn the showerhead on and showily shrug out of your robe before fastening your hair up and getting into the stall, shooting him the most instigating smile he's ever seen as you start soaping yourself up.

Javi sheds his bottoms and goes in after you, soulful eyes roving over you before he hitches up behind you and slaps your now wet soapy ass, earning a squeak from you. "Such a daring little brat you are," he grouses behind your ear as he fondles his hands down your slippery curves. You hum an enticed sound and smile when he takes your soap from your hand and starts lathering your back up with it. And when he massages its suds around the curve of your side and down between your thighs, your breath stutters. "So, first impression? She seems smart and witty," is Javi's conversational remark while his fingers glide along your womanhood. "Nerdy but sociable."

Your brain races to catch up, snappily cueing you in that he's referring to Francesca. Before his fingers can get more daring, you pull his hand away so you can turn in his arms and bossily maneuver him so his back faces the cascade. "My goodness. Makes me wonder how you'd described me after we met," you remark sardonically as you take his soap and merrily lather his shoulders and chest up. "Mean but feisty?" is your suggested description for yourself as you glide your soapy touch down his stomach, fingers scrubbing affectionately down his happy trail before pausing at Javi's heated exhale.

Keeping his hands to his sides, he tries not to fidget in arousal when your hands resume teasingly washing him. "Nope. I thought three words: brilliant, sexy, and stunning," he answers and bites his lip when you smile and palm his shaft, touch remaining dutifully tender, even when it starts to harden in your hand. "F-Fuck…ok, maybe one more word: Cock-tease."

You snicker and keep soaping his hardening length with one hand while the other slips lower, earning a reedy groan from Javi. "That's funny. The first word I thought of to describe you? Cocksure," you lilt amusedly and smirk when he huffs out his nose and finally stops your teasing touch. "Then, it was: clever, handsome, and wicked."

Javi backs you into the opposite wall from the showerhead before hiking you up it and pinning you between it and him. "You thought I was wicked?" he drawls gruffly while he wickedly guides you down to plunge onto his cock.

You mewl before stuttering a humored, "Y-Yes! The most wicked," while looping your arms around his neck and hooking your legs to wrap at his waist.

He chuckles and kisses you, loving how you bury a hand in the back of his hair as he starts rocking up into you. When he sets a toe-curling pace, you mewl and gasp in pleasure, feeling already worked into a tizzy and needy for him to strum your bliss up in you. You bite back a little cry before humming in delight when he suckles a kiss into your neck before grinding you down onto his cock after slamming home deep in you.

"I love the little noises you make, baby," Javier husks in a honeyed tone before he bucks up into you. "Feel good?"

"Mmm, yes. Always make me f-feel so good," you hitch out breathily and smile into his cheek before brushing you mouth to claim his in a hungry kiss.

The heat of the steam from the warm water fogs up the space, clinging to your skin as Javi fucks you against the wall. In no time, he drives you over the edge into a hearty orgasm that has you crying his name into his jaw as he plunges into you and clutches you tight, reaching his dizzying release right after. His breath is ragged, smile satisfied as he nuzzles you and murmurs, "Ok…sure, wicked works."

You snicker and kiss him before unfurling your legs from around his waist so you can stand on wobbly knees. Still leaning against the wall, you relish the way your kiss becomes a languid worship involving your tongues – with the occasional nip and suckle of each other's lips, while his cum seeps out of your puffy pussy and drips down your inner thighs.

It's an exquisite start to the week.

Aside from feeling content and totally relaxed, you both don't even recall the things you'd meant to mention to each other while you move on to the rest of your morning routine. Fully dressed now and fastening the sunburst studs into your earlobes, you smile at him in the mirror while he puts on his dress shoes. Javier's eyes crease as his gaze appreciatively roves your hourglass shape in the tight black pencil skirt and white high-collar-and-ruffled blouse before you slip on your black blazer. He's thinking about how much he looks forward to seeing what you'll be wearing for the art show tonight when you finish putting your heels on and exhale a huff at the time flashing on the alarm clock.

"Damn, I should've left ten minutes ago," you chide and rush to go collect your things.

Javi looks at the clock and grimaces. He should've been out the door a while ago, so as you're placing your charged cell phone in your purse, Javi's shrugging on his dark blue suit jacket and pocketing his belongings right next to you when you turn to go say goodbye.

Snickering when he reaches around you for his keys on the credenza, you slink your arms around his waist and steal a kiss from his lips. "See? Wicked. Making me late—"

"Yeah fucking right," he snorts and nudges his head against you before tapping your ass. "Get the door, malvadita," he drawls and smirks when you scoff irreverently at him and do as you're told.

Once he's locked up, you're both rushing to the elevator, which unfortunately arrives with some other tenants, so you both have to behave on the way down to the garage. Chivalrously, Javi walks you to your car and opens the door for you before cupping your lower back and brushing a chaste kiss over your plush lips. "I'll call you later," he grouses warmly, and when you hum and playfully pull him back for another kiss – a much sultrier version this time, he grunts ruggedly and murmurs, "Now who's being wicked?"

"Oh, just deal with it," you sass as you affectionately brush your thumb over his moustache to wipe your tinted lip balm off for him.

Giving your waist a squeeze, Javier rumbles, "Love you, corazón."

"Love you too, querido," you whisper and wryly tug on the lapel of his jacket as you wink, "Can't wait to see you later tonight."

He hums intriguingly as he backpedals to let you slink into the driver's seat. "I'm looking forward to it too. Now go. We're late," he faux admonishes as he saunters over to his car.

"Yes, sir!" you call out impishly before shutting your door and winking at him as you turn on the car and fasten your seatbelt just before you reverse and drive by.

Javier chuckles and shakes his head as he gets in his SUV and follows suit.

By the time you flounce into your staff meeting with barely a few minutes to spare, Javi's walking into his office and seeing the stack of statements he'd asked Stoddard to have for him. His deputy comes in a few minutes later and briefs him on his upcoming day.

It's a shit-sandwich-packed schedule.

Not only did he have meetings with Mil Group and CNP thanks to the outbreak in violence over the weekend, but there was a briefing he now had to kick up to the head of the South American region in the DEA headquarters stateside who wanted to talk to him about having to deal with 'bureaucratic unease' the flare up in cartel violence was causing for the agency back in D.C.

As if all of that wasn't enough to tank his day, by the early afternoon, reports come in of another cartel-related massacre out at a Cali cartel-affiliated facility.

You're just coming back from running the testing for the new system when your cell phone rings in your purse. Closing the door of your office and retrieving it, you answer, "Hey, mister," in a good-humored drawl.

"Hey. So it's bedlam here today, and now there's a lab run by a trafficking gang affiliated with Cali that got hit this morning," Javier tells you, and you can hear the irascible temper starting to simmer lowly in his voice. "It might also be a refining center, so DEA should be there to document the shipment routes and try to trace them back to Cali-proper."

Sitting at your desk, you frown and ask, "Where's it at?"

"At an old pharmaceutical warehouse outside of the capital," Javi answers and sighs. "I have a briefing I gotta give to the stateside guys end of day, so…I don't know if I'll be able to make it in time to meet you tonight."

You're crestfallen, feeling yourself wilt into your chair as you train your voice to sound easygoing and understanding as you assure, "It's alright. Don't worry—"

"I'm sorry, querida," Javier tells you in a hushed tone. "I gotta go."

"Ok. Bye," you keep your voice light, and when the line clicks, you end the call and try to ignore the heavy tug of disappointment anchoring in your chest.

Then, unbidden, you think of what Stechner had said – about Javier flirting up Jurado's wife, and that vindictive part of you wonders if there was more to him going personally to gain her cooperation. Why hadn't he secured her in protective custody? Could he have had different intentions with not following standard procedures – in not taken her into detention until they caught and extradited her husband?

What was the point of flirting her up at a bar?

What else is he willing to do?

Annoyed with yourself, you shut that down and focus on getting through the rest of the afternoon.

By the time Javier gets back to the embassy from the latest investigation scene, he's begrudgingly rushing up to the conference room Stoddard dialed DEA stateside from in order to brief them on the latest Cali cartel fuckery.

He's angry with himself for disappointing you. And really, he'd been looking forward to the night out with you and your friends, so he feels guilty – like he'd once again left you hanging last minute. It needles him in the back of his mind as his briefing turns into a mild chiding about lack of results. Not for the first time, Javier deliberates about just throwing his hands up and walking the fuck away, but as quickly as the impulse flares in him, his stubborn will stamps it out.

While he keeps his cool and forges on with his assessment to the DEA brass, you're getting home and going through the motions of getting ready for the art show. Shedding your earrings and storing them in the jewelry box, you undress and rush to shower. The whole time, you try not to let melancholy set in. After all, this wasn't like the last time. Javier didn't flake out and go MIA. He'd called and canceled. It wasn't his fault his role made it virtually impossible to have a normal schedule.

You keep admonishing your selfish impatience the entire time you blow-dry your hair, and by the time you've slipped into your red dress, you feel a bit more settled. You admire yourself in the full-length mirror as you secure the vintage-inspired diamond studs you'd received as a gift ages ago, and while your hair isn't styled and your face is moisturized but bare, you can't deny how eye-catching your ensemble is. The Grecian-draped cranberry-red silk dress looks sleek but elegant thanks to the asymmetrical one-shoulder slink of the gathering that contours chicly to your bust while the hemline cascades at an angle to hit your knees. The right-shouldered taper balances the slit up the left thigh from being too risqué, and the gold strappy heels keep it a timeless look. You frown at the thought that Javi won't see you in it.

Having Ellis and Anita greet you with eager excitement for the night ahead once you've arrived to their place helps shelve your angst entirely, at least.

"Damn, kid! That dress is killer," Ellis proclaims and whistles when you come through the door with your gold clutch in hand and a rueful smile.

"Oh, I have the perfect eye look I can do on you," Anita boasts as she pulls you into their bedroom and sits you at her vanity.

She's already dressed in a flared-out romantic-styled black lace cocktail dress while Ellis dons his crispest black suit with navy dress shirt. He's looking at himself in the mirror as he brushes his hair in a slicked back coif while you're carefully curling your lashes when he asks, "Is Peña on his way?"

Stifling your frown, you stand and usher Anita to trade places so you can curl her hair for her when you reply in an offhanded tone, "Oh, he's not coming."

They both turn to you, concern etching on their features.

"It's fine. Work got crazy for him today. He called and let me know he needed to cancel," you retort and shrug before nudging Anita to face the mirror. "We weren't sure he'd be able to make it at all—"

"Well, it's his loss. He probably would've burst a valve seeing you in this dress anyway," Ellis can't help cut in derisively before comically gesturing to his head and below his waist as he added, "Probably a couple different valves, really."

Swatting him amusedly, you snicker to Anita as you start curling the back of her hair, "Please spank him later for being such a pain in the ass."

"Oh, that was already on the agenda for when we get back," Anita giggles while Ellis blushes and sputters embarrassedly out of the bedroom. Once you've finished pinning her hair with a glossy comb, Anita trades places with you once again to style your lush, silken tresses into a half-up-half-down style. She's brushing the top of your hair back and smoothening out the hairline at your temples when she asks, "Things have been good with him though?"

You smile reassuringly at her. "Yes, everything's been really good. I wish he could've made it out tonight, but he's not chained to a desk. His work is unpredictable," you tell her as you stare appreciatively at her in the mirror once she's done fluffing the back of your hair.

She's sweet and doesn't pry further, and a short while later, you're finishing with your makeup and heading out to the museum. Ellis valet parks the car, so the three of you exit to approach the entrance of the modern brick building. "Hey, boss lady!" you turn and see Francesca enthusiastically waving as she approaches from the velvet rope line. She's wearing a billowy floral print charmeuse dresse and block heels, curly hair fastened in a ponytail and minimal makeup – trusty satchel at her shoulder with her items for the interview. "Great timing! I just walked over. This looks really cool," she chirps before greeting Anita after Ellis introduces his wife to her.

The event bouncer checks the VIP list for your name and once he's spotted it, ushers you and your guests through. The museum is buzzing, and once you all enter the anteroom before the exhibition hall, the catering staff greets you with champagne and hors d'oeuvres before moving on to the other guests filing in.

"Ketsele!"

You turn and see Sasha strut in and leave his cultural attaché, business manager, and Nikolai in the dust as he strides excitedly towards you. He's smiling broadly; sculpted jaw softened by his trimmed beard and pointedly slicked back hair. His blue eyes crinkle warmly as he mouths 'Wow!' His custom cognac-leather wingtip shoes click expeditiously in the slightly echoing room as he charmingly acknowledges the patrons as he passes.

"Who's that?!" Ellis whisper-asks, eyeing the intimidatingly tall, barrel-chested man in the dark-tweed double-breasted vest with a bloomed rose tucked into the vest pocket, crisp cream pinstriped dress shirt clinging to his brawny arms and open at the collar, and tailored slim-fit black trousers that accentuate his muscular legs and narrow waist while his shiny cufflinks match the engraved gold ring on the pinky finger on his right hand.

"Sasha," you answer, as if it was a silly question to ask, and glance at him to see his shocked expression. Quirking a confused eyebrow at him and then humming questioningly when Anita and Francesca looks just as awed, you don't have a chance to inquire what's up when Sasha is finally in front of you.

"Well, you never disappoint, krasivaya," he remarks in a husky purr as he eyes you appraisingly. He notices you're wearing the earrings he'd given you ages ago, so with an admiring tilt of his head, Sasha rumbles definitively, "You look stunning," before he pulls you into a bear hug.

You chuckle and hug him back, admiring his warm, undoubtedly expensive handcrafted woody and citrus cologne scent, as you both embrace. "And you, looking ever the dandy, per usual," you razz him as you pull back and platonically grab his arm and guide him over to the others. "Sasha, these are my friends. Ellis and Anita, and Francesca – who you promised to let interview you."

"Ah! Of course. So nice to meet you," Sasha boasts and shakes Ellis' hand before taking Anita's hand and kissing the back of it, then repeating the greeting with Francesca. He glances around to see where your date is, but when he sees the flicker in your eyes, he knows better than to ask, so instead, he goes into full-blown host-mode with, "Thank you for coming to my premiere. Come! I'll give you the tour before they open the doors—"

"Alexander, we're supposed to wait for all the VIP—" Sasha's business manager appears at his side and tries to coax in his ear, but Sasha has already threaded your arm in his and is leading the way.

"It'll only be a few minutes, Ian. You'll have plenty of time to pimp me out later," Sasha grouses over his shoulder before turning to address your friends with, "So! Follow me through this side door here."

Once out of earshot from Ian, you whisper to Sasha, "I don't want you to piss off people on our account—"

"It's my premiere, and I can do as I want," he impishly rumbles and gives you a wolfish grin when you roll your eyes at him. "Now, seriously. This color? Oof, fucking gorgeous…"

You have no chance to counter his flirty compliment when you all enter the exhibition hall and you gasp at the scope of his latest collection.

"Whoa…this is gnarly!" Francesca exclaims as she approaches the first installation while Anita and Ellis gape at the scale of it.

"What do you think?" Sasha asks as you wander about, staring in awe at the surreal pieces.

"Sasha…is this 'Worship'?" you turn and balk when he grins proudly. "Oh my god, you finished it!" you go over and hug him, knowing how monumental this is for him. "This is astounding," you tell him and smile when you can feel him soften in your arms from the praise. "I can't believe I'm finally going to get to see it all assembled!"

"Well, you haven't seen all the pieces before. Come. Let me show you my favorite one," the blue-eyed, debonair man proposes before guiding you over to what is the centerpiece installation of the collection. "This one is 'Worship of Woman'."

You take it in, overwhelmed by how something made of metal and blown glass can look so ethereal and raw. It's a metal pedestal on which the figure of a shapely woman lies in sensual repose. The way the lights in the exhibition hall shine down on it make it looks like a celestial goddess, glass shards smoothened out to twinkle around her silhouette and catch like rivulets of refracting colors in her hair.

When you turn to him, you're utterly speechless, and his blue eyes crease gently at how radiantly beautiful you look staring up at him with vivacious awe. "Do you like it?" he whispers edgily, nervousness bubbling up in his usually smug tone.

"This is the most beautiful piece I've ever seen, Sasha," you tell him with genuine feeling and playfully nudge your shoulder into his side before leaning into him. "Simply amazing."

He clears his throat of the knot that began to catch there and exuberantly proclaims, "Well, you've made my night, kitten. Now, I'm in a great mood for an interview!"

By the time Sasha is jovially guiding you and the others on a quick tour and affably answering Francesca's queries for her project, Javi's just trudging through the door of his apartment. He's mentally exhausted from the marathon day, and ornery now as he traverses his dark and cold abode.

It feels so empty now without you in it, and the lonesome pang that wells in his chest fuels his guilt all over again. Kicking off his dress shoes and grumpily shrugging his blazer off, Javier flops onto his back on his bed, annoyed and frustrated. The bedding is still rumpled and sullied from the carnal debauchery of the night before, and he finds himself mellowing out from the scent of you clinging to the sheets. Sitting up on his elbows, he glances at the clock and scowls. The art show's been underway for over an hour and a half. Exasperatedly, he sighs and sits up to yank his tie loose, forlornly deliberating about showering and drowning his sorrows in leftover lasagna and whiskey when his gaze lands on the outfit you'd hung up for him.

Ruefully, Javi deliberates silently, weighing the pros and cons of showing up late, when the intrepid part of him snorts, Just go! He bounds up to shower and rush through getting ready, having decided he'd rather spend a half hour with you out together tonight than nothing at all. Sparing an appraising look at himself in the mirror, Javi hustles out of the apartment down to his car and drives to the museum. Valet parking is full, so he ends up parking around the block and sprints to the entrance of the museum. While the VIP entry was already concluded, he didn't have to purchase entry thanks to his name being on the list, so he's able to lope at a clipped pace through the sprawling building in direction of the exhibition hall.

The space is bustling with patrons of the arts, photographers, and catering staff as they mill about offering trays of nibbles or alcohol. Javi's made it pass the anteroom and into the larger exhibition space when he sees you through the crowd speaking to an older woman who is marveling at the sculpture you're both in front of. He doesn't notice anything else about her or anyone in your immediate vicinity because of how enthralled he is by you. Your eyes are smoked out and lashes curled, emphasizing your enchantingly alluring eyes, and your lips are a shade of red that contrasts beautifully with the tone of your sexy dress.

"Well, shit, you made it!"

Javi startles and glances over at Ellis, who's just come from the bar and holds a scotch in one hand and Anita's waist in the other. "Yeah, just got here," he retorts and offers Anita a polite smile as he shakes her hand once Ellis introduces her. "Very nice to meet you."

"Same! I've heard a lot about you," Anita cheekily muses while Ellis tenses and tries not to seem obvious about it. "And just so you know: if you break her heart, you will be very sorry," the shorter woman with the heart-shaped face and deadly sweet smile hisses cherubically at Javi once she's leaned in and eyed him. "Now, excuse me, boys. Gotta queue up for the ladies' room!" Anita chirps as she flounces off.

Javi stares comically as she goes, and Ellis coughs awkwardly. "Sorry about her, Peña. She's just super protective."

With a wry grunt, Javi retorts, "I get it. And call me Javi."

Nodding, Ellis takes a sip of his drink just as Javier goes to glance back at you. Now across the room with Francesca, he watches you affectionately as you smile at something the younger woman's commented when a tall, dapperly dressed man seems to appear out of nowhere at your side and convivially puts his hand around your waist. Instinctually, Javier's jaw sets, expression etching tersely at the sight before he mutters crossly, "Who the hell is that."

Grunting, Ellis swivels to glance over in the direction Javier is currently covertly glaring in. "Oh, that's Sasha," he answers simply before reading the shift in Javier's demeanor. "You know, the artist?"

Javier's thrown. When you'd told him about your artist friend from the city named Sasha, he'd pictured a bohemian woman who sculpted nudes – maybe painted expressionist portraits. He did not envision a man who looks like he played rugby or some other brutish contact sport that would have him smashing his competitors into the mud before loping off to clean up for his strut across a catwalk at some fancy fashion show.

"Uh…I'm gonna check in on the wife," Ellis offers and exits, sensing the man is just as gob-smacked by the intimidatingly debonair man as they'd all been when you'd introduced him earlier.

Unaware of Javi's arrival, you are walking over to the 'Worship of Man' piece with Sasha now. As you pass by one of the servers who's holding out his tray to a patron, you notice Sasha confidently leer at him, quickly catching the guy's eye and winking at him as you both cruise by. You notice the flustered look the server tries to conceal, so you irreverently nudge your elbow into Sasha's side. Unfazed, he continues the stream of conversation you'd been in. "—Need you to translate for me, since I don't really trust this supposed cultural attaché," he whispers in your ear as you approach what looks like a journalist who is chatting with the nervous-looking man the museum assigned to escort Sasha during the residency of his collection.

"It'd be my pleasure, velvel," you mutter back, and smirk when he exhales through his nose and squeezes your forearm puckishly against his ribs.

A few minutes later, you're wrapping up mediating the conversation when you glance back to look for your friends and lock eyes on Javier.

He's wearing the charcoal gray suit and black shirt you'd picked out, hair brushed back and dress shoes looking polished as he lopes over to you.

You dimly hear the journalist thank you and Sasha before she strikes up conversation with the cultural attaché, and when your friend catches your glance, he turns and sees Javier approaching. "Oh, is this the date I've heard so little about?" he can't help jibe in that husky gravel of his.

One that is loud enough for Javier to hear, as he nears. He doesn't show it, though, being too busy taking you in now that he's in your presence. You're smiling and strutting over to cut the short distance, disarming Javier as you slink your arms around his waist and murmur, "I thought you couldn't come."

"Hmph, glad I did," he muses and whispers in your ear, "You look absolutely enchanting, querida. Took my breath away."

Your core tingles at the compliment, and without a second thought, you lean up and kiss him on the lips. Javier pulls you close and smiles against your lips, snickering when you lean back and goofily swipe your thumb over his mouth to remove your lipstick smear. "Jeez, where are my manners," you chime self-deprecatingly as you take his hand and turn to escort him the short distance to introduce, "Javi, this is my good friend, Sasha."

The two men shake hands, and you're so happy that they're finally meeting that you're none the wiser to the silent and covert sizing up happening between them – an unspoken, primordial appraisal of the possible challenger to their position, who could be looking to steal your affections away.

"A pleasure," Sasha smoothly remarks and squeezes Javier's hand a little harder than normal.

Javi reciprocates without batting an eye or backing down. "Likewise. I've heard great things. Your work is quite impressive."

Unlatching his hand from the shake, Sasha places it on your shoulder platonically. "Thank you! It was a bitch to get down here, but I'm really enjoying the feedback," the blue-eyed man who looked like he stepped off of a Norse god fairytale mural remarks, and Javi can't help feel jealous as you cheekily reach his hand on your shoulder to give Sasha's fingers an impish squeeze.

"Have you seen each piece yet?" you ask Javi before playfully elbowing Sasha in the side and telling him, "It looks like Francesca took plenty of photos, but can you humor me and pose for one by the piece she liked?"

"Of course! Anything for you, ketsele," he convivially retorts and saunters off to do just that.

Taking Javier's arm, you excitedly guide him to the next piece in the collection. "So, Sasha's been working on this collection since I met him. He'd tinker around and show me parts here and there over the years, but kept saying it wasn't ready," you're telling him warmly, unaware of how Javi keeps shooting covert glances over at the man and silently stewing. "It's called 'Worship' and it's about all the things that society places the most value in," you explain as you stand in front of 'Worship of Money' – a fearsome depiction of natural resources being melted down or torn asunder to make gold and currency.

"He makes all this himself?" Javier asks, humoring you as he spots Ellis and Anita having joined the handsome artist and your intern in conversation.

"Yes! Isn't it amazing?" you gush, turning and beaming when he exhales musingly and nods. "Oh, let me show you my favorite one!"

You lead Javi across to the centerpiece of the entire collection, and finally, his expression flares in wonder as he takes in the intricate piece. The more Javi stares at the beatific countenance made of smoothened and polished glass, the more his brown eyes register the resemblance.

The enraptured woman depicted in the throes of ecstasy is you.

Javier's seen you reach bliss countless times, so it's undeniably uncanny to see it rendered in metal and manipulated glass.

"I can't get over how much work it must've taken to craft this," you praise as you stare at the refracting light in the glass hair, admiring how it twinkles and sparkles differently when you walk around it.

"Boss lady!" you pause and turn as Francesca practically trots over to you. "This was the coolest! Thanks for getting me in. Sasha is awesome. I have so much great content for my project," she gushes and is about to ramble on when she finally notices Javier and pauses. Recognition sets in, and she glances from Javier, to you, and again to Javier before drawing out, "Uh…as big of an art buff as you are a coffee fiend?"

Javi coolly sidesteps closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist. "Definitely," he drawls, smirking when you scoff before relenting and leaning into him.

Francesca's reaction is that of someone whose mind has just been blown, but who is disciplined enough to flail internally instead of bringing attention to herself. "Well, uh, I'm heading out before my brain melts any more, so have a nice night!" the curly-haired intern wittily salutes before strutting off with her satchel.

Smiling, you turn into Javi and whisper, "Did I tell you how damned sexy you look tonight?" before kissing his jaw and taking in his spiced scent.

"Nope," Javi clucks derisively as he leads you two to the bar. "I'm likely to look better after a drink or two," he quips, and you snicker and shake your head at him.

Ellis and Anita seem to have had the same idea and approach the bar as well, so now that you're a foursome, you shoot the breeze for a bit – a period in which Javi catches up with the rest of you in the drink and snacks department – before you realize you haven't seen Sasha since before Francesca left. You spot Nikolai, the sentinel of a man, stoically at the opposite end of the bar nursing his glass of vodka, but not his ward.

"So, Sasha told us some interesting stories," Anita chimes and pulls your attention back. "Studio54? Dancing the night away and going to class the next morning?"

"Haha, I'm gonna have to grab him by the scruff and give him a shake!" you chide aloofly and sip your drink while Javier leans his elbow against the bar and grunts.

"How'd you two meet?" he inquires in a mellow baritone as he finishes his latest drink.

"Through his younger sister, Irina. We both went to school together, and one summer when I stayed in the dorms, she let me tag along to a club Sasha could get us both into," you regale as you give the sprawling hall another glance, trying to spot your friend. "We've all been friends ever since. Whenever I'm in New York, we try to meet up."

Javi hums, trying hard to keep his surly envy at bay. When he feels the impulse to inquire more pointedly about your relationship with the man, he shakes it off and decides to excuse himself to the restroom. While you, Ellis and Anita continue to chat at the bar, Javi enters the men's room in the outer hall of the museum. He's brooding, tersely letting his thoughts spiral while he stands at the urinal and unzips to relieve himself. At first glance, the restroom had been empty, but the longer he's at the urinal, the more he starts picking up on the sounds of someone in the bathroom stall at the end of the row – the one tucked the furthest away from the entrance of the men's room.

But the more his hearing sharpens, the clearer it becomes that said stall is occupied by what sounds like two people making out. The sound of breathy gasps and the rustling of clothes from what he imagines being a heated session of fondling or foreplay grows louder to his ears once he's finished at the urinal. So, befuddled, Javier tucks himself back into his slacks and flushes before loping cautiously to a sink basin in the middle of the long counter. The couple must've realized they were no longer alone, because the torrid sounds cease from the stall while Javier washes his hands.

Then, the stall door opens, and a fresh-faced, chiseled-jaw catering server exits hurriedly, looking a bit flustered as he smoothens out his white dress shirt's collar and buttons his matching jacket closed whilst he passes behind Javi for the exit. Before Javi can jump to a conclusion, Sasha walks out of the stall in an unhurried, casual pace and parks at a sink basin down from Javi.

There is nothing but the echoing silence and the running water from the sink faucet as Sasha lathers his palms dutifully.

"You make her very happy."

Sasha's remark is factual and devoid of jealousy or grievance as he washes his hands and stares appraisingly at himself in the mirror. He only glances at Javi in their reflection when the agent stares guardedly at him.

"I don't think I've ever seen her more content, so, I hope you keep it up," Sasha remarks offhandedly before shutting the faucet and drying his hands with a paper towel, tossing it into the trash, and turning on his heel to saunter out of the restroom and back to his premiere.

The entire encounter sobered Javi right up.

He felt like a complete idiot for not having picked up on the eccentric man's vibe before, but chalks it up to letting his jealousy take over at the mere sight of his elegant swagger, which he seemed to exude more around you. Not to mention at how his hand had confidently wrapped around your waist and the affection you clearly had for each other. He's gruffly chiding himself for letting such a bad habit rear up in him again. Clearly he'd been misreading things, so he shelves them and rejoins you at the bar, feeling more at ease now.

Sasha is regaling the others about some silly story involving you both at some club in Brooklyn when Javier sidles in next to you and listens in, feeling all jealousy ebb out of him finally.

"—Oh no! Don't skip over your little moment that night," you exclaim and cut him off, grinning deviously when Sasha pulls on his collar and grimaces. "This one left me at the bar to get hassled by every wannabe Travolta only to rush back looking like he'd been ravished and goes: 'This big drunk lady pushed me up against the wall and kissed me!'" When Sasha face palms and the Roses react, you add for dramatic effect, "So, now mad, I go track her down to slap her for kissing him without his consent, and when I find the big drunk lady? It's a drag queen I've seen downtown, and I end up yelling at her for being so rude and the whole time Sasha is trying to yank me away—"

"I was mortified and couldn't believe you were yelling up at this Paul Bunyan in a dress and wig with such conviction!" Sasha cuts in while everyone laughs.

Even Javi chuckles, endeared by the zany mental image conjured for him by the lively anecdote. He's grinning behind the rim of his glass at your sassy retort when he catches Sasha glance over at the catering server he'd seen him with in the bathroom. The guy is collecting empties from a nearby bar top table and shooting glances at Sasha. You spot the charged glimpses between them too, and snicker before swatting Sasha teasingly and giving him a saucy grimace.

Your group share in amiable banter for a little while more until Ian comes over and asks Sasha to come say goodbye to some VIP guests, since the event was officially winding down.

"Ah, we should head out too, girlie," Ellis declares before kissing your cheek. "It was great to meet you, Sasha!" He shakes your friend's hand and smiles when Anita says her goodbyes as he pats Javi on the shoulder and mutters, "Get her home safe, or else."

"What have you been telling these guys about me," Javi chides jokingly to you as he pats Ellis on the back and kisses Anita goodbye on the cheek.

"The truth: that you drive me insane," you quip cheekily and giggle when he grunts and irreverently nuzzles you. "See you guys. Drive safe!"

"It was a treat, you two!" Sasha calls out to the Roses as they shuffle out through the waning crowd. "Gotta schmooze these guys before Ian kneecaps me. Be right back," your charismatic friend winks at you both before loping off to join his harried business manager's side by one of the sculptures.

"Shit, we should head out soon too, corazón," Javi purrs in your ear and shows you his watch.

"Spend the night at my place?" you propose and graze your nose along his jaw when you take his arm and wrap it around yourself.

Javi nuzzles your neck, breathing in your soft perfume, and hums amusedly. "Sounds good to me," he husks and kisses your cheek.

Once Sasha has returned, the three of you exchange fun, congenial banter about the event for a little while longer before you serenely smile and declare, "We're going to call it a night, bub."

"Ugh, fine, leave me to my boredom," Sasha dramatically huffs and gestures to usher you both to the exit. "I'll walk you out. I already told Nikolai to get the car so I could sneak out before Ian makes me talk to more people," he grumbles haughtily in a low tone and nods for you all to skedaddle out before you're noticed.

The night air is warm but comfortable as you strut down the steps with Javi holding onto your arm on one side while Sasha goofily tags along on your other side. Once you reach the landing before the front curb, Javi takes one look at your heels and decides, "I'm gonna get the car, hermosa."

"Ok," you smile and squeeze his hand before he starts bounding agilely over to the sidewalk, deciding to take his time so you two can talk more and he can use the walk to the SUV as a smoke break.

"It'll give me time to tell her about the bathroom," Sasha calls out jokingly to Javi as he puts his arm around your waist and grins wolfishly at him.

"I'm sure," Javi chuckles as he strides off to cross the street towards where he'd parked his car.

"What?!" you exclaim and glance inquisitively at Sasha.

"That cute himbo in the uniform?" he drawls and bounces his brows, earning a wry scoff from you. "We had a little necking session in the stall when your gallant hunk came in to take a piss."

"Oh my god," you snicker and hide your grin behind your palm. "Jesus Christ, Sasha—"

"What? I didn't ask him to join in or anything!" he counters, and then impishly purrs low in your ear, "Although, while not really my type, he's handsome. I wouldn't mind doing another ménage à trois—"

"That was more for you to enjoy than it ever really did it for me, bub," you jab and purse your lips at him amusedly when he deadpans a hum of disapproval. "Javi and I don't share each other anyway," is your offhanded lilt as you adjust your clutch's chain higher on your bare shoulder. "So? Anything else happen in the men's room?"

"Well, I told him that I've never seen you so content, that he clearly makes you happy, and I hope he can keep it up," he comments as he delicately brushes a rogue strand of hair from framing your face to instead be tucked behind your ear.

"Was that before or after you had the server blow you?" you crassly jibe and idly adjust the rose to sit straighter in his vest's pocket.

"It was just necking, ketsele," he grouses. "But maybe I'll invite him to blow me on the drive back to the hotel—"

"Ugh, Sasha. You need to be safe," you admonish and grip the back of his neck. "Wear a condom—"

"Yes, ima," he deadpans and rolls his eyes, so you shove him lightly for referring to you as 'mother' in Yiddish. "I always use protection since you hit me that one time—"

"Oh please, I didn't hit you," you snicker, smiling when he twists his lips ruefully at you. "I smacked you, which is different."

"Yeah, sure, you mean little kitten," he teases and sobers in his silly demeanor when he spots Javier driving over en route for pulling up along the curb. "Want to come over to the hotel for dinner tomorrow?"

"I'd love that," you reply, choosing not to mention 'we need to talk about you and Irina,' and just smile when he escorts you down to the curb once Javi's parked.

"Will he mind?" he whispers, checking to make sure, and you snicker and give him a scoffed look that says 'of course not!' just as Javi gets out to round the car and open the door for you.

"I'm so proud of you, Sasha," you tell him and give him a warm hug. "Enjoy your night, safely," is your taunting lilt and wink as you take Javi's hand and let him help you get in the car.

Once he's made sure you're in, he closes the door for you and turns to shake Sasha's hand. "Congratulations on the collection," he rumbles charismatically and squeezes his palm tight before telling him smoothly, "It was nice meeting you."

"Same here, Javi. Thanks for coming out," Sasha gives him a broad, genuine smile before patting him on the shoulder and glancing between you both to purr, "You two have a good night."

You wave at him and watch Sasha sprint to his waiting getaway car – a luxury town car driven by Nikolai, while Javi rounds the SUV and slides into the driver's seat.

After Javier pulls out and onto the avenue, you tuck your clutch on the seat beneath your thigh so you can reach over the center console and plant a flirty kiss to his cheek. "Tan guapo. I can't wait to get you home," you purr and sit back in your seat, but slide your hand over to rest on his upper thigh. "I had so much fun tonight."

He smirks handsomely and pats your hand on his thigh while the other steers. "I'm glad, querida. I had fun, too. It was nice to finally meet your friends," he rumbles affably, keeping an eye on the road as he drives over to your side of town. "Sasha's an eccentric, interesting guy," Javier remarks, earning your wry snicker and affectionate squeeze of his thigh. "Sounds like you two have always been buddy-buddy."

"Yeah! He put up with me and I would rein his shamelessness in when he needed it. We made a fun team," you chime, waxing nostalgic. "Some of the greatest times I've had were with Sasha."

Grunting, Javi glances over and asks offhandedly, "He told you about the men's room?"

You scoff humorously and give him a lopsided smile. "Yeah. I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. He's always been a little brazen like that," you tell him.

"Nah, it's fine. Actually, it was an odd ice breaker, if that makes sense," Javi chuckles and smiles when you balk in surprise. "Does he always size up the guys you're seeing?"

"Haha, did he size you up?" you ask and pat his thigh. "Do I have to yell at him at dinner tomorrow for being intimidating?"

"Pfft, yeah fucking right," he scoffs, driving through your neighborhood now. "Hm, you two having dinner tomorrow night, then?"

"Mmhmm. Hope that's ok. I'll be over right after," you murmur silkily and start rubbing your hand along the length of his thigh.

"Good," he drawls and starts heading down the street leading to your apartment complex. "So, what did Sasha think about that guy you hooked up with when you were last in New York? Was he as harsh in his opinion of him as he's likely to be tomorrow about me?" Javier quips as he eyes a vacant spot at the corner of your complex and approaches to park.

Your smile falters. "Um, no," you parcel out before replying flatly, "Sasha's who I hooked up with."

Javi lets out an amused exhale and glances at you, but when he sees your ambivalently tense features, his expressions shutters in, and he absently turns away to stare straight ahead, going through the motions of parking in the spot before shutting the car off. A silent beat weighs the space between you, until he shifts in his seat and stares intensely at you.

"You had sex with him," he states rather than asks.

"Yes," you answer, wringing your hands in your lap as you hold his gaze.

"…So let me get this straight. Your good friend, who I watched all night put his hands all over you, and I didn't slug out of respect for you, actually fucked you," Javi grounds out, glare now boring into you incredulously. "You fucked him."

"Yes," you answer, slowly feeling that sinking sensation just as you recall and realize Javi had once told you he wouldn't get mad over you telling him about your previous lovers as long as you weren't still messing with any of them. "It's not what you think, Javi—"

"How many times have you fucked each other," he growls irascibly, eyes dark and expression etching with mounting anger.

"Javi—"

"How many?!" he snaps and props his hand behind the headrest of your seat and grips the steering wheel with the other hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. The trepidation wells in you, tangling up your feelings and making you truly nervous to tell him. He must read it plain on your face, because he exhales a stuttered huff and wrings his hand over his tersely scowling features. "You've both been involved the entire time you've known him…for years…" he growls contumely, silently filling in all of the infuriating blanks himself – picturing you and Sasha reveling in each other on and off from the time you were jailbait to as recently as a month ago.

"It's not like that, Javi!" you find yourself insisting and reaching for him, but when your hand touches his shoulder, he stiffens, so you imploringly beseech, "Please, listen to me—"

"You let me fucking shake his hand – pal around with him while the whole time he's fucking smirking in my face knowing he's had you!" Javier thunders and whirls on you, eyes blazing with rancor now. "He's been with you so many goddamn times that he made a fucking effigy to you!"

Stunned into baffled bewilderment, you exclaim, "W-What?!"

"That sculpture! He's so fucking in love with you that he sculpted you in pinche hierro y vidrio," he bellows in response, on a complete tear now as he verbally slashes, "You never even told me that not only was your dear Sasha a man, but someone you've spent a lifetime having sex with—!"

"Wait a goddamn minute!" you cut in and snarl, "What the fuck are you even ranting about?! You sound ridiculous! He's my friend – and yes, we've hooked up over the course of our friendship. But raving about a piece of art like it's some sort of affront to you?! Just because you're fucking jealous over nothing?" you pause your verbal lashing to snap your seatbelt off and pivot angrily to be able to glare at him head on as you scathe, "Are you slut-shaming me right now because I hooked up with Sasha before I ever fucking met you?! Or because I slept with him after you disappeared from my fucking life?!"

Javier doesn't know how to respond to either of the allegations, so instead he shouts, "I'm not slut-shaming you, but I am furious with you for keeping your relationship with him from me! Had I not commented offhandedly about it, would you have ever fucking mentioned that you two have had a sexual relationship?!"

"Does it matter that we did?" you disarmingly ask in a disconcerted tone. The look in your eyes has him reeling, but when you add, "It doesn't matter to me. I didn't even think about it because I'm with you. I love you—" Javier shakes his head at you as he fists a hand through his hair.

"Not enough to avoid making me look like fucking fool the entire goddamn night," Javier counters disparagingly and scoffs at you.

That triggers something volatile to snap in you. "Oh, so you've finally gotten a taste of what that's like – being made to look like a fucking fool," you seethe before viciously sneering, "Going más alpha macho asshole on me now because of someone I used to fuck, when I have to find out you're fucking flirting wives of informants up at a bar and wonder exactly why you didn't just take her into detention, let alone fucking tell me about it!" When a flicker of guilt crosses his expression before it's quickly replaced by his angry confusion, you hiss, "You're still a fucking mentiroso! But then you have the gall to treat me like some whore—"

"I'd started telling you about it when you cut me off and then didn't tell me something, so how the fuck am I a goddamned liar now?!" Javi growls, shoulders winding back as he furiously exhales when you grab for your clutch and make to go exit the car, so he antagonizes, "Go ahead and storm off like a brat."

He can feel the drop in pressure when you whip back around at that and slam your clutch onto the dashboard before you glare daggers at him and verbally napalm, "Your buddy Stechner mentioned it Friday night when he barged into my office! And rather than accusingly ask you while you were jumping off of fucking balconies, I waited patiently for you to tell me. Why didn't you? Furthermore, why the fuck did you flirt her up at a bar, then go after her husband, only to not secure her in custody? Does she mean something to you? Because that's the only reason that makes sense for you fucking that whole operation up so royally."

It's all too much for his raging mind to absorb in one fiercely delivered detonation. So instead, Javier shelves it and bites out, "Yeah well, I didn't fuck her. I can't say the same for you and Sasha, though, can I?"

The flippant jab lights your true wrath now like a stick of dynamite.

"No, I suppose you can't. But I can safely say that you can go fuck yourself thinking about it, seeing as I am through being berated by such an insecure man over who I fucked before him," you tell him in a fearsomely even tone and grab your clutch, ready to truly exit on that, when Javier suddenly grabs your upper arm and yanks you back.

"Then I suppose it takes an insecure, vindictive woman like you to know one. Seeing as you've gone out of your way to make plenty of 'em and leave them reeling in your wake," Javi hisses darkly before dismissively letting your arm go.

The hurt that jabs through you is like a hot dagger to the chest, plunging sharp and deep. You hiccup a lonesome, vicious laugh and turn your face away from him. "Eres un maldito desgraciado…" you thinly curse before adding with hushed scorn, "It was only a matter time before you found a reason to hurt me."

That cracks through Javier's anger, and his feelings tangle up in him while a knot forms in his chest when you stalk out of the car and slam the door. He detachedly watches you go in the rearview mirror until his gaze becomes blurry from having to rapidly blink his eyes as he tries to rein in his dizzying fury. Once he's able to take a breath without having it stutter in his chest, Javier buries his face in his hands and tries to regain his composure. But his heart hurts, and his temples feel like they'll burst as he reels over and over in the tempest of acrimony he kicked up and got vehemently swept up in.

He regrets everything he said. As he sits there, regret chips away at his anger, jealousy and resentment, leaving him writhing and raw. Javi replays it over – hears the betrayal in your scornful parting words, fixating on the pain in your voice when you told him, "…you found a reason to hurt me..."

Before Javi has registered the impulse, he's storming out of the car and sprinting onto the sidewalk to rush across your courtyard and up the steps to your apartment's door. The lights are off under the door, and he can hear the muffled sound of water running somewhere in the interior.

He knocks, but you don't call out or answer the door. "Querida…I'm sorry. I-I…" Javi stammers, hoping you'll hear him. "I never meant to hurt you. You didn't deserve any of that. I-I love you—"

A door slams inside the apartment, and the muffled sound of running water is gone now. Javier fists his hand, pressing it into the door and grinds his forehead in frustrated upset against it, swearing contumely at himself before looking at the keys in his hand. He still has your apartment key, and it glints in the lowlight of the outer sconce at him, but he shakes his head and decides he dare not enter your space like this.

Downtrodden, he turns and retraces his path back to the car, where he gets in and dejectedly drives himself back to his apartment building. If Javi knew that you'd slammed the bathroom door after you'd stripped heatedly out of your clothes only to succumb to the wracking hurt? That you'd dissolved into a puddle of tears while sitting in the tub so the shower cascade could beat down over your head as you lost yourself to the sobs? He would've been gutted. Everything in him would've splintered apart and he would've begged your forgiveness.

As he storms into his cold, dark apartment, he resolves to do just that anyway, but doesn't know if you'll ever forgive him for reacting so irately and unleashing such vitriol. Why? Because he realized now it was unwarranted.

While you crawl into bed, feeling empty and alone, Javi lies on the still-sullied bedding and curses ever going to the art show before amending that no, he curses himself for getting so outraged over the shock of your admittance that he'd sabotage your relationship over a perceived affront he was growing more and more uncaring of. When faced with the reality of losing you, the thought of you and Sasha having been intimate meant absolutely nothing to him now, and he felt hollow from the realization.

Resolving to undo the damage, Javi strips out of his clothes before fitfully falling asleep with the notion of giving you space before he approaches you and begs for everything said to be undone.

He doesn't know that you're shutting down your heart and becoming numb and unfeeling to the abject hurt, and can't see a path where you ever allow him in again.

You both will find out soon just how oppressive the harsh words spoken can be when they refuse to free you of the hurt.

---

Spanish-English Glossary:

Gruñendo = Growling; grumbling

Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady

Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy

Malcriada/malcriado = brat/spoiled

"¿Qué? = What?

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Agente = Agent

Directora = Director (female)

Hermosa = Beautiful

Pórtate bien = Be good/Behave

Chulo/Chulito = cute guy; little cutie

Que malo eres = You're so bad; You're so mean

Pobrecito = Poor baby; poor baby boy

Chancleta = Sandal

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Guapetón = Super handsome, good-looking guy

Traviesa = Naughty/Mischievous girl

Ay, Javi. Me mareo = Oh Javi. I'll get dizzy

Capos = Crime bosses

Tan pinche atrevida = So fucking daring

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Guapito = affectionate way of calling a man handsome (in the diminutive term)

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Malvadita = Wicked little girl

Corazón = Heart; pet name to signify how deeply you love someone

Tan guapo = So handsome

Pinche hierro y video = Fucking steel and glass

Mentiroso = Liar (male)

Eres un maldito desgraciado = You're a damned, disgraceful/miserable wretch

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