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?

27. Chapter 27: Hurt

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral and unprotected sex, both vaginal and anal intercourse. Mentions of past sexual encounters, including opposite and same-sex acts with different sexual partners. Descriptions of semi dom/sub play, cum play, size kink, spanking kink, sex toys, and dirty talk. Allusions to past emotional trauma, toxic relationships, and triggering resentments. Some Dom!Javi, Sad!Javi, Sub!Reader, Possessive!Javi.

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Chapter 27: Hurt

You had managed to storm into your apartment, turn the shower on, and stood at the mirror to angrily wipe the makeup that was already streaking down your face from your fitful tears before shedding out of your gorgeous red dress, yanking off your strappy gold heels and stripping to being as bare as you emotionally felt. The distraught stare looking back at you in the mirror had chilled you while you mechanically took your diamond earrings off and placed them on the sink vanity, and by the time you'd heard the knocks, you'd shut down.

The door had slammed shut when your anger engaged your autopilot and swung your hand out blindly to swat it in attempt to muffle whatever Javier was now trying to take back. But when you'd yanked your hair loose and wandered over to stand under the shower spray, your knees gave out and you'd crumbled like a sad broken thing to the cold tub. The sobs wracked through you so fiercely that you pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face into your folded arms, succumbing to the roiling hurt as it spread like a poison hitting the bloodstream.

Devastated, you'd sat there and cried until the shower spray started running cold, and only then did you shut it off and crawl up to your feet, dry off, and wander out to your bedroom where you curled up into a ball under the covers and cried yourself into exhausted sleep.

When you woke up next, it was just before dawn, and the flitting sunrise was bleeding through the cracked open slats of the windows to warm the shade of the curtains. In a dejected daze, you pulled yourself out of bed and went through the motions of getting ready for work. You're shocked to see you'd left the diamond earrings on the sink vanity like that, so you put them on and walk to the bedroom to get dressed. By the time you're standing in front of the mirror to brush your hair, you're already exhausted. The dark-circle-eyed stare looking back at you seems like that of a morose ghoul – some specter you'd thought long gone from your life. Resigned, you apply makeup to try and hide how worn your complexion looks and put on a bold lipstick color that you hope will distract attention from your red-rimmed eyes.

When you enter the server room at the embassy, Ellis is surprised to see you there so early, and is about to comment if he messed up on the 'early day' he was supposed to spend overseeing the system setup when you avoid him and go direct to Devon to talk through the day's work. He can sense the rest of the morning your guard is all the way up, and decides it's best not to pry, knowing you will tell him in good time once you're ready.

You are more than committed to keeping the façade up, so by the time lunch rolls around, you opt to skip it and remain in the server room, so, when Javier strides into the main workspace and heads for your office, he finds the door closed and the lights off. He knows he's taking a huge risk by checking in on you at the embassy, but he's willing to incur your wrath just so he can make sure you're ok. Unfortunately his own workday is fraught with problems, so he has to hustle back up to his office and deal with it and grapple with his loathsome guilt the rest of the day.

Luckily for you, by the time Francesca came in to shadow the team for the system launch, you were in a much more settled place and able to hide your sadness completely, so when she gushed about how great the art show was and how much fun she had talking to Sasha, you're able to affably smile and carry on a light banter.

She doesn't mention Javi or how floored she was at seeing you two together, and you are grateful, because you're sure that would've had you unraveling. Neither does Ellis, you notice. You wonder if he could feel it off of you – the protective quiet you'd wrapped yourself in for most of the day. Deciding you're still too raw to divulge anything to him yet, you take your tote and disappear into the ladies' room once the day's work has concluded in order to get ready for your dinner with Sasha. The parking garage is mostly empty by the time you exit the building en route to jump in your car and head over to the posh hotel at the center of the capital, so you're taking the solitary walk as a chance to clear your mind. After all, you'll have to work much harder to hide your sadness from your longtime friend.

So it's all the more befuddling when you approach your car's driver's side and notice there's a closed envelope sitting on the passenger's seat. Looking around, you immediately suspect Stechner of having broken in to leave another unnerving note. Hurrying to get in, you lock your doors and glance about before snatching the envelope up and inspecting it. There's no writing on the front, so you open it and slip the letter out before unfolding the top of it.

The second you see the handwriting? You pry your eyes away and shove it back into the envelope before plunging it down into the recesses of your purse angrily, throwing it down onto the passenger seat's floor. The outrage simmers in you like bubbling tar as you snap your seatbelt on, put the keys in the ignition, and proceed to burn rubber out of the parking garage.

You drive to the hotel and try to shed your aggravation, but it lingers after you park and enter the opulent lobby in search of the restaurant you assumed you would be meeting Sasha at for dinner. Finding none, you wander over to the front desk, give your name, and tell them you're a guest to see Alexander Ivanov.

With a lot of pomp, the manager escorts you to the elevator that goes all the way up to the penthouse suite and leaves you in the foyer, wishing you a lovely night. Bemused, you lope over to the double doors on your chic Italian heels that are clicking over the polished marble to knock on one of the doors.

Nikolai opens it and nods in greeting before ushering you in. "Hello," you offer and as usual, get no verbal response, so you strut in to the palatial suite with the fantastic panoramic views of the capital and see there's an ornate dining room table laden with foods and spirits.

"Just as punctual, I see," Sasha calls out as he saunters in from the bedroom in a burgundy velvet smoker's jacket, black fitted trousers, and matching maroon embroidered loafers. His hair is still damp from the shower, but it's slicked back neatly and his beard looks soft from whatever oil he rubbed into it. "Dammit, girl. You always look so good!"

Snickering, you smoothen out the skirt of your pinstripe ruffle dress as you cross over to give a kiss on the cheek hello. "When you said dinner at the hotel, I'd assumed you meant a restaurant on the premises, not your suite," you remark sardonically and saunter over to look out at the view, dropping your purse on a cream tufted chair as you go. "This is way too much, bub—"

"Ugh, would you live a little? Now come sit before the food gets cold," Sasha rumbles as he comes up behind you and steers you by your shoulders to lead you over to the lovely table. "Nikolai, help yourself to the spread and then retire for the evening," he tells his trusted companion as you both pass him to sit.

Grunting, Nikolai exits the suite altogether with a soft click of the door when it shuts.

"Ok, I know he talks, so why doesn't he ever verbally answer?" you whirl on Sasha derisively and poke him just below his open shirt collar and twist your lips at him when he snorts amusedly at you. "Seriously! It's been more than a decade and I've never heard him speak."

"He doesn't speak in front of company, mon chéri," Sasha chuckles and pulls out the chair for you. "Now, enough about that. I want to talk about how much I immensely enjoyed last night!"

You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes as you sit and get slid into the table. "I'm glad!"

Sitting next to you rather than across from you, Sasha eyes you dubiously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I'm just a bit tired," you deflect before reaching over to grab the champagne and pour yourself a serving. "Have you heard any more feedback? It was a fantastic turnout."

Deciding to shelve his questioning, for now, Sasha exhales blithely, "It was. And the museum already asked Ian if I'd be willing to extend the residency a month. While I'd love to spend the extra time living it up down here, I have other commitments, so I'll extend it and probably come back only to oversee the packing up of everything when it all gets shipped back to New York."

You both get engrossed in pleasant conversation over your extravagant meal, and after the third glass of champagne, he feels confident enough to hazard some inquiring.

"So, how did you meet gallant Javi?"

"At the embassy. At the time, he was a field agent for the DEA."

"Oh? What is he now?"

"He's the DEA country attaché."

"Which means he runs things down here for the DEA?"

"Mmhmm."

The more he asks, the less wordy your responses are, so with a sharp stare, Sasha shoves his plate aside and folds his hands over the table. "What's wrong, ketsele," he rasps poignantly. "I know something is bothering you," is his pressing musing, and when you look away to stare off at the penthouse's view, he reaches for your hand and clasps his over it. "Don't go into ice queen mode with me."

You shake your head and shy your hand out of his so you can slide the chair back and stand. "I don't want to talk about it, Sasha," you dismiss and impulsively run your fingers through your hair as you try and redirect, "I'd rather you tell me the juicy details about your night with the server boy," giving him a leering wink as you hold up your champagne glass and chime, "Over something a little stronger, maybe?"

Stoically taking you in, he stands from the table and lopes over to the bar in order to make your signature drink and something for himself. "I didn't end up meeting up with him," he tells you unabashedly as he measures out the pours by sight. "I kind of felt the undercurrent of a gay panic in him, which isn't my thing," Sasha remarks aloofly as he hands you the drink and escorts you to the large plush cream-velvet couch that looks out at a swath of the city that's starting to refract with the glow of nightlife. Sipping from his vodka tonic, he leans back into the sofa and exhales. Then, he reaches over to tuck your hair behind your ear before tracing his fingertips along the contour of it as he admires the diamond earring in your earlobe twinkling in the light. "I was impressed with your Javi."

You feel the pang wring in your chest from the mere mention of his name. "Oh?" you muse and drink a long sip, staring faraway out at the bustling cityscape.

"Most straight men put their backs up against the wall when they realize they're in the presence of a gay man. He didn't bat an eye, or give the impression it bothered him in the slightest," Sasha muses and glances at you from the corner of his eye, seeing as your stare flickers with something meek and sad. "He was quiet but sociable. I got the feeling he was sizing me up—"

You let out a disparaging exhale and kick your heels off so you can lounge with your legs folded under you, shifting to face him finally – to be more open with your demeanor. "Funny, he said the same thing about you," is your laconic retort as you brush your hair back and over a shoulder before leaning on your folded arm propped at the back of the couch cushion.

"Well, duh. I love you," he quips flamboyantly and squeezes your knee platonically. "And he clearly loves you the way I expect a man to love you—"

"So what happened to the theater teacher?"

Pausing, Sasha is now certain that the topic of Javi is seemingly off limits, as far as you're concerned. "Oh, turns out he was getting engaged to his college sweetheart, who moved back from LA after crashing and burning out there," he grumbles and drains his glass until he hits ice. "That kind of put me in a…idle mood, and I spent it finally finishing 'Worship,' which hey, I can at least say made the entire asinine thing worth it."

Smiling, you set your glass aside and sidle up close in order to give him the hug you know he needs. "Fuck him."

Snorting, Sasha leans sidelong into your arms. "I did. A lot," he quips, and you laugh out that serene, discordantly charming guffaw he loves so much. "Did I mention he liked to get choked?"

"What?! No! You did not mention that," you laugh harder from the scandalized shock.

"Yeah. And, I came to find out, he liked snowballing," he tells you, and you gasp at the connotations before laughing at the play on words. "But don't worry. We both were big on getting tested regularly. Like I said – I'm not looking to get beaten up by you again," Sasha nudges you affectionately and smirks when you shake your head and sigh in relief. Just as you rest your head on his shoulder, he queries in a hushed tone, "Do you and Javi use protection?"

"…You know my policy."

"That's not what I asked."

You refuse to answer, not because you're put out by the question, but because you feel the potential of unraveling into tears is quite high right now.

Shifting to wrap his arm around you and pull you into a protective hug against his barrel-chested side, Sasha pushes, "What happened between you two, ketsele."

You're overcome by a shameful bout of guilt. One so potent you feel like you'll burst if you don't unburden yourself.

"I never told him about us."

Sasha absorbs that and lets out a long, drawn out hum.

"And you did last night," he murmurs, and you nod and keep your head on his shoulder so he can't see your eyes well up with tears. "He got upset." You nod, so he rubs your back soothingly. "Did you intentionally keep it from him?"

"No," you answer without hesitation, but frown. "I honestly didn't mean to hide or omit anything. I just…you're my dearest friend—"

"So he's solely upset because we've had sex," he asks, and when you fidget to look up at him in confusion, he clarifies, "It's not that you've had sex with your gay friend, but that we've had sex, period – that we've been that comfort for each other."

"Yes," you mumble with a frown, and he sees how upset you are, so he pulls you into his arms and holds you. "I didn't mean to hurt him – didn't even think about it that way, but I see now how he'd feel betrayed to find out after meeting you and thinking we were just very close friends…I feel terrible, but…"

When you don't continue, Sasha sits up and brushes his hand to pet your hair out of your face. "Is it anything like it was with Roman?"

You scoff, "No! Javier is nothing like Roman. I just…every time I let my guard down with him…" you pause, trying to collect your thoughts. "We're just able to push each other's buttons and things escalate into us taking digs…"

Sasha listens, blue eyes gentle as he consolingly rubs your knee while you finally vent and tell him everything that happened. You're on such a tear, that you give him the complete backstory of yours and Javi's relationship. The more you tell him, the securer you feel and by the time you're detailing how much you love Javi, you finally express your distress. Curling up on the couch next to him, you tell him things that you would never feel comfortable enough to tell anyone else.

"…As much as I love him and feel safe with him, I've never felt so vulnerable and scared that it's only destined to end in us hurting each other until I can't stand it and want to stay numb and alone…" Taking a shallow breath, you confess, "I hate that I've hurt him, but I'm dismayed by how easily he could think I would intentionally hurt him. I'm angry with him, but…I also care about him and want him to be safe and at peace and not constantly upset…"

Sasha hums, brows furrowing. "So you're saying I can't have him killed off."

Exclaiming an outraged laugh, you smack Sasha and bark, "Jesus Christ on the Cross! NO."

"I'm only asking!" he snaps glibly.

"If I told you NO on having Roman killed, why would I ever entertain it at all?!"

"…Fair point. That bastard deserved to be fed to the pigs," Sasha growls and runs a hand testily through his hair at the reminder of that tumultuous period of your life.

"Alright, enough about me! I've been dying to ask you what the hell is going on with you and Irina," you abruptly change the subject and startle him to be on guard. "She told me on the phone that she'd gone to see your father, and you and her fought?"

"UGH!" Sasha groans huffily and stands to start pacing in aggravation. "And she put it all on me, didn't she? Never mind that we both said we would never deign to go groveling to him for anything, and there she goes, agreeing to meet with him in Warsaw. Did she even tell you she's fucking engaged?!"

"No," you exclaim and sit up, shocked.

"Of course not. She's gonna marry Aslan, who I hate, and when our father found out, he begged her to go see him because he wants to coordinate the wedding and give them his blessing," he grounds out and whirls to face you as he adds, "Oh, and when I told her I would only see that bastard when he's in his fucking coffin, she got mad and said I was always trying to dictate her feelings and that she's not living her life carrying all my resentments."

Sasha keeps pacing and venting, and once he's left grappling for more to say, he snarls and drops down to sprawl out next to you on the sofa. Sighing, you affectionately prop his head in your lap and comb your nails through his hair.

"While he's not the greatest, she's always loved Aslan. She's dated him long enough now, so…" you muse, and Sasha glares up at you. "Don't look at me that way, velvel."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm going to buy that being the complete end to the story of why you're upset," you tell him firmly, squeezing his shoulder so he has to sit up. Once he does and you are facing each other, you ask, "Did you literally orchestrate this art show down here just to have an excuse to come visit?"

"…Possibly," he mutters cavalierly. You give him a stern glare, so he relents. "It's not just that she's going to marry him and reconcile with that bastard. She's…she's my baby sister, and she's moved beyond me. Pretty soon, she'll have a family, and I'll hardly see her anymore," he sullenly confesses, murmuring, "Just like it's happened with us."

You soften, overcome and still raw from your own emotional woes, so your eyes are gleaming with unshed tears as you take his hands in yours. "Sasha, you know I love you, and that will never change. But I'm not a brazen party girl anymore. Don't tell me you're really suffering a bout of Peter Pan syndrome," you affectionately chide, giving him a lopsided smile when he scoffs and scowls at you. "I will always make time for you. I might not be a cab ride away from you anymore, but you are not alone."

"I know that…but it's always nice to hear, krasivaya," he sighs musingly and leans his elbow into the back of the couch. "Can we stop talking about my neurosis now?"

"Fine, but you know you can always call me – you don't need to orchestrate an entire art exhibition just to come and visit!" you tell him derisively – smiling when he rolls his eyes and shrugs a shoulder flippantly.

"Oh! Speaking of which, I got the first snapshots of the collection that a local art column is going to run. Wanna see?" He's bounding off the sofa to go to the buffet table he'd left the manila envelop with the photos before you can respond, but you affably sit up on your knees and make grabby hands for him to give them over. "Some I'm not a fan of the lighting, but I think overall they really did a great job capturing the essence," he's telling you as he sits back down and watches you open the envelope and slide the glossy photographs out onto your lap.

You admiringly fan through them, humming at the resplendent glare they caught on one of the installations when you pause and gape down at the next photo.

It is an aerial shot, showing 'Worship of Woman' as if someone was looking straight down at the sculpture of the female form captured in the throes of carnal passion. From this vantage point, you can't help but recognize some of your own features depicted in the polished glass of her countenance, so you balk and hold up the image to Sasha.

"Is this…me?"

"Yes," he tells you without batting an eye. "You're the only woman beautiful enough to have been a useful reference!" Sasha declares with pomp in his rasping purr as he takes the photo and admires it, caressing his beard thoughtfully. "I'm really proud of the fullness I was able to sculpt in the lips. Yours are so lusciously plush," he remarks matter-of-factly and glances back at you. When he sees the conflict etched in your expression, he frowns, pink lips twisting uncharacteristically forlornly before he blurts, "You hate it—"

"No! I just didn't realize the resemblance last night, and—and…" you stammer before turning your face away as the sudden burn of tears starts prickling at the corners of your eyes. "He kept harping about you being in love with me – like it was plain to him and some kind of an affront. That you sculpted me from memory because of all the times we've been together—"

"Well, yeah, that's how I was able to craft it," Sasha tells you and collects the photos before setting them aside unseeingly so he can stare into your eyes as he remarks, "I do love you. Was I in love with you when I first started the piece? Maybe, but the more I worked on it, the clearer it became to me that I cherish you…you're my little kitten, after all."

"…I don't know whether to hug you or smack you right now," you huff derisively, snickering when he holds his arms open to you and tips his chin down with a silently pleading pout on his ruggedly debonair features. Scoffing, you shimmy close and hug him warmly. With a stuttering sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder as you sniffle, "I was such a spiteful bitch to him…"

"And he was a resentful asshole. I think you're both even," Sasha remarks acerbically and pats your back. "Really, the fact you care at all – let alone this much? It fascinates me."

Sitting back and scrubbing your eyes, you grumble, "All right, because of your glibness, I'm making you call Irina right now so you can make up."

"Fine…but you need to be on the call with me," he sulks and takes your hand in order to pull you along as he marches across the main living space of the penthouse to enter into the bedroom so you can both flop onto the regally-dressed bed as he reaches the phone and starts dialing his sister and setting it to speaker.

The three of you spend close to an hour talking, and with your mediation, you help the Ivanov siblings see each other's point of view and finally relent in holding any grudges. While you're happily letting Sasha fill his sister in on last night and all the fun he's having in Colombia, you're unaware that your cell phone has been ringing incessantly in your purse out in the main room.

Impatiently, Javi hangs up the phone and rubs at his temples before reaching for the cigarette he left on the lip of the ashtray so he can smoke while he paces his apartment. After he'd covertly looked into your department to find your office still closed with no suggestion you'd ever come to work, he'd gotten worried. So before he'd left for a meeting at CNP headquarters, Javi had written a note, pouring his heart out to you, and placed it in an envelope with the intention of going to your apartment later that night and slipping it under your door. But when he'd gone down to his SUV, he'd seen your car parked in the garage.

Realizing you might've just been away from your office because you were indisposed somewhere else for that system setup you'd mentioned, Javi strolled over to your car and found that you'd left it unlocked, so he left the envelope on the passenger's seat. He hoped that upon seeing it, you'd read it and that you'd come over to his place to talk. When he'd come home to an empty, dark apartment, Javi had gotten wound up, deciding to call you. Since your apartment line went to voicemail, he'd hung up and called your cell phone. He was getting really worried now that he couldn't reach you, and was talking himself up about rushing over to your place when recollection dings in his stress-addled mind.

Sasha. She was going to have dinner with him tonight…

Instead of the feral jealousy that would've bubbled up tumultuously in him previously – like whenever he'd dealt with his envy towards Luke Samson, he found himself simmering with regret and unable to muster any ill-will or angst towards Sasha. If anything, he was furious with himself for letting his anger from the shock run away with him. The disclosure from you had struck him – hit the proverbial target dead center that was his insecurity and unleashed a scalding sense of betrayal he'd never felt before. It was a potent thing that had splintered his reason and left him shouting his ravenous distrust at you. Now? As he glares out the glass of the sliding patio door, Javier feels betrayed by himself. He couldn't help think, Is it a wonder why she's always been reluctant to be with you, when you're capable of pushing her away…of hurting her like that?

Frustrated, Javi stalked to the kitchen and decided he'd quiet his self-loathing with a glass of whiskey. Stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray, he sat back on the couch with the glass and bottle. As he drank, he refilled his glass because the more he tried to forget, the more his mind would betray him and flash to the look on your face when he'd yelled at you. How wounded you sounded when you'd told him the most lonesome thing he's ever heard from you and felt sick to his soul that it'd been prompted by his callous vindictiveness.

"It was only a matter time before you found a reason to hurt me."

He replays everything, and no matter how drunk he gets, the stark detail of each barb you'd thrown at him remained burned into his recollections. Javier realized now, in his lowly state, that he'd bungled the Christina Jurado thing royally, not because of what you'd accused, but because he'd let his sympathy for the woman get the best of him. He should've put her in protective custody before he ever boarded that plane to Curaçao. Instead he'd minimized her importance to Franklin and just let his biased opinion of her dictate his actions.

The thought that you'd seen his mistake so plainly and suspected he'd botched it because he was involved or interested in the woman was insane to him, but then again…had he ever given you emotional security to trust him, and to doubt the possibility of him ever possibly straying?

Completely tanked now, Javier stumbles to his feet and meanders into his bedroom. Clumsily, he strips out of his clothes before crawling onto the disheveled bed and flopping onto his side with a labored grunt. His drunken melancholy has him sullenly thinking that he'd driven you away and into the arms of another man. One you clearly trusted and felt safe with. As he drowsily passed out, his thoughts floundered on. She's being comforted by him because of you…

And while there'd been a time in the past that you'd have sought comfort in Sasha, both emotionally and carnally, this time you're content to revel in just his emotional support. Really, you have no desire to sensually cope with you friend of more than a decade, and he's more than content to spend the night enjoying your company platonically.

After hanging up with Irina, you'd both camped out on his luxurious bed with dessert and champagne, having decided to curl up to watch a movie on the large TV in the bedroom while you really ended up getting into drunken conversation. He'd shed his jacket, dress shirt and loafers in order to lounge comfortably against the tufted headboard and pillows in just his undershirt and trousers while you sat with your legs folded, propped up like Cleopatra on your side by the plush cushions you'd arranged for yourself. Sasha had finally worn you down into raunchy banter, and you were amusedly entertaining his obscene queries now that the moroseness of earlier has ebbed away thanks to the silly repartee.

"—C'mon, Sasha!"

"I'm curious and demand to know!"

"You know I adore you, and that I'm not big on kissing and telling."

"Darling, c'mon, it's me, your dear Sasha. You gotta tell me," the handsome devil cajoles. "On a scale of one to ten."

Sighing dramatically, you set your champagne glass down at the nightstand and tipsily grin. "He's a 10."

"Yeah?" Sasha balks, and when you nod and hug a pillow to your chest, he confirms, "Javi fucks you that good. At a level 10."

You sigh, wistful this time. "He's the best I've ever had…"

"Jesus, you're serious?! Better than—"

"Don't say it, Sasha!" you admonish and frown. "I love you, and yes, we've always had fun together, but it's a different thing to…to do it when you're in love with someone."

"Well, shit," he rasps and stares with open blue eyes at you.

Your friend is bemused. After all, you'd both always been attracted to each other and had enjoyed every moment you'd spent together, taking comfort in being together when you were each lonely, being each other's support, and reveling in things together in a way neither of you felt secure and safe to do with anyone else. You'd been each other's confidantes and protectors, muses and grounding lines – helping the other to stay anchored and never drift too far. To hear you speak about someone else with such genuine feeling gives him pause.

You sense how poignantly your answer has struck a chord in your dear friend, so you're about to change the subject when Sasha sits up to shift and stare intensely in your eyes, pinning you in place.

"You two have sex without protection."

"I'm on the pill," you blurt, then amend, "After the condom broke once, I kind of…didn't see the point in using them anymore. We're both safe."

Sasha absorbs that. "But you said there have been indiscretions between you," he remarks more than asks.

"Yes, but he gets tested regularly and I did recently. I promise, we're both very careful," you assure before quipping, "My only worry is that he's gonna knock me up from how virile he is—"

"Blessed hell, ketsele," Sasha exclaims and gapes at you. "You let him come in you?!"

Giggling at how shocked and awed he is – a rarity for your rambunctiously lewd friend – you pluck a grape from the platter sitting on the foot of the bed and pop it in your mouth, humming, "Mmhmmmm."

"I should smack you the way you did me!" he threatens goofily and guzzles his drink. "Remember?! You had a conniption—"

"You were sticking your dick in a gloryhole to fuck some random stranger! That is hardly the same as me having unprotected sex with Javier—"

"Who you've been on-again-off-again with," he lamely counters and chomps moodily on a piece of pineapple. "And sure, fine, he's clean, but you're risking getting pregnant by this man who could yell at you over the dumbest triviality?"

"I'm on the pill—"

"That's not 100% effective—"

"I've been on the pill since I was fifteen, Sasha. I doubt I'm fertile enough to have a chance in hell at this point of ever getting pregnant," you scoff dismissively and reach for your champagne to drain the glass with a satisfied hum. "And after everything that was said last night, I don't think I'll have to worry about it much anymore…"

Huffing, Sasha runs his hand through his swept-back hair and eyes you musingly.

"How big is he?"

You snicker haughtily and reach for the champagne bottle to top off both of your glasses. "Big," you draw out.

"Details, please," he singsongs and clinks his glass with yours.

"He's the biggest I've ever been with, and he knows how to use it," you tell him and bounce your eyebrows goofily at him. "The first time I pulled it out of his jeans, I actually got a nervous flutter in my tummy—"

"Oh stop it!" Sasha exclaims amusedly and contradicts, "You're only saying that to wind me up—"

You swat his bare, muscular shoulder and sneer comically at him. "I am not! And if you're going to refute what I tell you then stop asking—"

"Ok, ok! Cut or uncut?" he inquires with a wolfish smile that is simply infectious as it softens his handsome bearded features.

You snicker and take a long sip of champagne before answering, "Uncut, but I'm telling you, his cock is just…perfect. Not too much foreskin so it just looks so gorgeous to me. And when he gets hard, it's so thick and long, and the head is nice and smooth—"

"It's a shame you two aren't into sharing," he glibly muses before licking his lips and drawling, "I wouldn't mind having a peek—"

"Hah! Yeah, sure, a peek – just like last time, when you were just going to watch, and then joined in and pushed me to the side?" you scathe derisively.

At the reminder of the last time you both had a threesome with a guy you equally fancied, Sasha flushes when he remembers that indeed, at one point when he'd noticed it was just him fucking the guy, he looked over and realized you'd snuck out of bed and were sitting on the divan watching them like it was an interesting performance art show. "Well, something tells me that wouldn't happen with Big Dick Javi," Sasha teases and grazes his lower lip with his teeth before impishly winking at you.

You laugh delightedly, finding the entire premise so silly but fun to entertain. "I'm sure he's had threesomes, but just with women. He had the reputation of being an unabashed libertine when we met," you remark before adding in a chime, "While I love you, I don't think I'll ever want to share him."

"Considering how he reacted, it seems he's of the same mind, kitten," Sasha rumbles smoothly and sets his glass aside so he can flop onto his stomach like an overgrown teen at a slumber party about to really ask the obscene stuff. "Does he get you off every time?"

"Yes."

"Does he like going down on you?"

"Yes. He actually loves it—"

"Has he tossed your salad?"

You giggle. "A little. We fooled around with fruit once, and he really liked stacking pieces on me," is your bashful admittance as you finish your champagne and blush.

"You never let me do it," he faux-huffs and smiles when you ruffle his hair playfully and stick your tongue out at him. "Have you given him a rimjob?"

"No!" you exclaim and fall back into the pillows as you giggle maniacally at the suggestion. "I've not done anything to his ass, except slap, pinch, massage, and squeeze it—"

"Not even a finger during oral?" Sasha asks, genuinely shocked. "Is that still taboo in hetero sex?"

"I can only speak for me, and while I wouldn't mind trying it, no guy I've been with besides you has asked for it," you retort and roll onto your side, propping your head up in your palm to drawl, "When's the last time you even had hetero sex, bub."

"With you, and before that I fooled around with a couple, and the guy was into her doing it, and it was a surprising turn-on to watch," he tells you before stifling a hearty yawn into his forearm.

Looking over at the clock on the nightstand, you gasp and sit up. "Oh my god, it's after midnight! I should go—"

"No way! You've had too much to drink," Sasha chides and bounds off the bed to go into the closet, remarking over his shoulder, "You're spending the night—"

"I can't," you protest lamely and prowl off of the bed, swaying a bit before plopping back onto the soft surface with a hiccup.

"Yes, you can. I'll sleep in the other bedroom. Now, put this on," Sasha orders as he saunters back in with a dark blue silk men's nightshirt he tosses onto the bed before collecting the platters of dessert and striding out to place them back on the dining table to be eventually cleared by the hotel staff.

By the time he comes back into the bedroom, you're slipping the much-too-big shirt on and buttoning it closed with clumsy fingers. "I don't want to kick you out of your bed—"

Sasha snorts and undresses as he walks by you to get to his wardrobe. "You're not. There's an equally large bed in the other room," he tells you as he strips out of his trousers and unselfconsciously stands in his designer white skivvies before pulling on the matching silk pajama bottoms that go with the shirt you're wearing. "And besides: it wouldn't be appropriate for us to share a bed. Don't want to get your lover hot under the collar," he razzes before loping over to lean down and kiss your forehead before he yanks the plush comforter back and gestures for you to scamper under. "I'll wake you in the morning, I promise."

Nodding, you crawl in and sigh serenely as the comforter envelops you. "If we're even still together…" is your inebriated, mumbled musing as you close your eyes and curl up to sleep.

Sasha pets your hair softly before tiptoeing out and letting you rest.

True to his word, he wakes you up the next morning bright and early, and insists you take your time in his opulent shower while he does something with your clothes. By the time you come out of the bathroom in the monogramed hotel robe, Sasha's left your laundered undergarments on the bed, but no dress. Perplexed, you slip your bra and panties on before pulling the robe shut and ambling out to find him in the main room, wearing a similar robe and sitting at the dining table that is overflowing with breakfast options.

"Ah, darling! I know you have to go to work, but that dress definitely doesn't seem office-appropriate, so," Sasha's telling you as he leaves the table and sprints over to a tufted chair he's draped two outfits that are still in their sealed protectors. "I figure you could pick one of these to wear to work?"

"Jesus, where the hell did you find a dress shop open at this hour?!" you exclaim and pad over barefoot across the marble floor to see him unzip and pull out each dress.

He holds a taupe ruched midi dress in one hand, and a bronze corset dress in the other. "I didn't. I picked these up from my personal shopper's gallery before I flew down here," he explains as he holds each up in front of you, as if he's trying to picture them on your figure. "You mentioned changing at work, so if your blazer's in the car, I'm sure you could toss it over either of these and get away with it," he remarks.

"They're both lovely," you muse and admire each dress. "I think I can get by with this one—"

"Oh, they're both yours," he rasps and hands you the taupe option before zipping up the other one.

"Sasha, that's too generous—"

"Oh stop, you know I love dressing you up. Let me enjoy my hobby," he clucks his tongue at you and waves you off to go put the dress on.

Snickering dramatically, you go to the bedroom, and a few minutes later, come out in the stunning dress. Nodding approvingly, Sasha ushers you to sit and eat. After some idle chatter, he hints at wanting to have dinner again tonight, so you chortle, "Wanna slum it and have dinner at my place?"

"Oh! I'd love to," he retorts merrily and grins. "Can you make me your arroz con pollo?"

"Of course!" you jovially agree and set the time for when he should come over, write down your address on hotel stationary, and finish your coffee before declaring you need to head out.

Walking you out to the elevator, Sasha hands you both the corset dress and the one you wore the day before and kisses you on the cheek. "I'll see you, ketsele."

"Be good today, velvel," you quip and enter the elevator, winking at his scoffing grimace at the 'wolf' reference just before the doors slide shut.

By the time you're making it up to your department's floor and hurrying to get into your office so you can brush your hair and apply some makeup before anyone sees you, Javier is trudging into his, completely miserable and trying not to be obviously nursing a hangover.

He'd woken up feeling like shit, head groggy and stomach growling at him. After heating up a serving of leftover lasagna, Javi had showered and gotten dressed for work, smoking a cigarette on the drive and feeling nauseous by the time he was in the elevator. Chugging out of his coffee mug he'd filled at the water cooler in the hall, he blearily looked over his memos before Stoddard tramped in like a damned eager beaver, ready to prattle on and detail Javi's schedule for him.

"—Some of the field-offices are requesting a touch base with you personally, boss, but I said it'd likely be on-hold until things with Cali cool down," his deputy is musing as Javi digs in his top drawer for the bottle of aspirin he could've sworn he'd stored there. "In the afternoon, you have the status report with the IT+IS director—"

Javi's heart skipped a beat at hearing that. "Where's that happening?"

"Deputy Rose said the director can meet you here in your office, sir. Unless you'd like me to set up a conference room—?"

"No, that's fine. Should I expect any surprises?" Javier inquires authoritatively and eyes the man sharply.

"I don't believe so. I've gotten no other reports of issues with our staff involving the pilot program training," he assures before checking his watch. "I do have a meeting with the budget office in a few, sir."

Javier nods for him to go ahead. Once his deputy exits, he goes back to rifling through the drawer and finds the needed aspirin, pops two in his mouth, and guzzles the water down before he gets up and heads to his first briefing.

Ellis is coming into your office around the same time, and finds you typing a mile a minute at your laptop. Shutting the door after himself, he moseys over and sits in front of your desk. "So…had a good night?" he fishes, trying to gauge your demeanor.

"Yep. I had dinner with Sasha. Ended up catching up until late, so I'm a little tired today," you reply and smile when he seems to let out the breath he'd been holding. "God, am I that much of a she-devil boss?"

"Not at all, but you seemed pensive yesterday," he remarks and leans forward. "Maybe a little upset, too. Everything ok?"

Sighing, you lean back in your chair and nod. "It's fine. So? Diagnostics from yesterday's setup looking good?" you remark and change the subject as you save your work and close your laptop.

"Hell yes. It's looking awesome, actually. I think we might be able to even onboard things here ahead of schedule, which means I'll be looking at your schedule for the next few weeks to see when those field office visits will work best," Ellis enthusiastically remarks before checking his watch and snapping his fingers. "Shit, that reminds me. I had the rundown from Jackie and Devon on the DEA training. Let me go get that—"

As he gets up to retrieve the summaries from his office, you feel trepidation settle in.

"Ok, here we are," Ellis says as he comes back in and sits with his folder. "For the status report—"

"I completely forgot all about that," you remark more to yourself than to Ellis, who pauses and peers over curiously at you. "…What time is the meeting?"

"It's at 1pm," he answers, but is now squinting at you. "You're meeting in Peña's office."

Nodding vacantly, you stare off at the corner of your office where your sofa is and picture Javi lounging cockily on it from that time he'd surprised you late and tried cajoling you to give him another chance.

"Alright…what's the breakdown?" you ask Ellis and stoically glance back at him.

Javi's frazzled.

He doesn't know what to expect when you come up for your meeting, and every fiber in his being is bellowing at him to apologize first thing for the other night – to get on his knees and grovel, but he knows that would be the last thing you'd put up with from him at work. But he can't shake the regret and guilt, so when he hears Stoddard greet you right outside of his office, his pulse races and heat rises up the back of his neck.

"—You look like you could use a coffee break. Why don't you go down to my department and help yourself to a cup?" you're affably suggesting to the DEA deputy country attaché just as you step into Javi's line of view across the doorway. "I think Ellis was putting on a fresh pot to brew."

"That would be great! Thank you," the jovial man eagerly takes you up on the offer and skedaddles from his desk, which is right out front of Javier's office.

A few seconds later, you're loping through the door with a folder balanced in one arm and a box in another. You are nothing but a vision of stunning professionalism as you strut over to the front of his desk and greet primly, "Good afternoon, Agent Peña."

Javier stands and hesitates – overawed by how alluring you look and the confident poise you exude in the eye-catching dress, blazer and heels – before rumbling, "You look lovely."

Your brows knit together in peeved displeasure before you remark, "Is it still a good time to meet?" and eye him, cataloguing his slightly tousled hair and crooked chevron-patterned tie over the striped dress shirt.

"It is. Please, have a seat," he rasps in a rough bass timbre, clearing his throat as he fiddles with his collar and flicks it out before self-consciously smoothing his hand down the lapel of his dark tan suit jacket.

Sitting daintily in one of the chairs in front of his desk, you waste no time and dive right in. "We received your cell phone, and took the liberty of setting it up for you. You'll find the charger, a belt clip, and the manual in the box along with the phone. The number is on a post-it on the inside lid of the box. Please feel free to let us know if you have any issues with it," you recite as you place the cell phone box on his desk within reach, and then cross your legs before opening your folder. "Now, the status of your team—"

"Can I see you tonight?"

The hushed petition derails your resolve.

Shooting a sharp glance about at your surroundings, you ensure no one is within eavesdropping distance before you stare guardedly at Javier.

"I already have plans."

Javi internally swears as he presses his lips together and nods curtly. "Perhaps another time soon, then?" he attempts, keeping his tone dispassionate, but his soulful gaze is imploring as he stares at you with that pleading puppy-eyed look.

You're tangled up with ambivalence and apprehension, wanting to shield yourself from the upset that's still simmering in you from the other night. It's a defense mechanism to put your walls up, and even though you feel guilt for your part, you hesitate at running back to him. The sense of betrayal Javi clearly felt aside, you can't let your guard down to the fact he thought so poorly of you as to feel you would intentionally hurt him. So, you can't abide opening yourself to him just yet. Not when you don't trust your feelings anymore, or know if you can accept getting hurt any further by him.

"I don't think so."

The dismissive edge to your aloof response hits him hard, threatening to boil resentment up in him, until he sees the blazing look in your eyes.

"So, here are the stats, insofar as your staff's proficiency in the pilot," you forge on, giving him no quarter in attempting to cajole you further as you brush your hair behind your ear and begin briefing him.

Javi half-listens whilst he gazes at you – getting lost in your stoic regard and the gleam of the halo diamond earring, and while you can feel heat rise up to your cheeks in consternated frustration, you keep your features smooth as you detail progress, areas of improvement, and goal deadlines for their completion of the pilot. Javi's wondering if the dazzling diamonds were a gift from Sasha when you hand him a copy of the report that has everything you've detailed summed up, and close your folder before standing.

"Deputy Rose will be in touch if there are any other adjustments needed to the meeting schedule," you tell Javi in a professional tone before turning and striding to the door. "Have a nice day, Agent Peña—"

"We have to talk about this eventually."

You pause at the hard, resolute murmur from him. Anger surges up in you, and Javi can see it in how rigid your shoulders get under your swaying locks of hair before you turn and glare at him.

"If I've given you the impression that there's anything further to discuss here, then that was clearly a lapse on my part. I currently have nothing to say on the matter," you irascibly lob in an even tone before turning and stalking out of his office without a second look.

Javi feels utterly gutted, beside himself in his bewildered upset as he watches you go until you disappear around the corner. "Fuck," he snarls at himself and wrings a hand over his flustered features before he snatches his pack of cigarettes and immediately lights one up in his office, hoping the thing will take the edge off.

While he proceeds to chain smoke through to his next stressful task, you storm into Ellis' office and shut the door before hurling your folder into his sofa with an exasperated hiss.

He stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. "So…the status report didn't go well?"

"Do me a favor: schedule for me to visit the Barranquilla and Cartagena field offices this week, and the others end of next week. I've given it thought, and it would be better to crank that out sooner rather than later," you resolutely direct and rationalize as you pace and absently comb your fingers through your hair. When he doesn't immediately respond, you exhale huffily and rub at the spot between your eyes in frustration. "I need a break from the capital, so might as well do something productive."

"Ok…" he draws out and frowns as he leans forward to detail, "I was looking at flights earlier, and there's one to Barranquilla every day at 8am. You could be at that field office before lunch tomorrow, and it's a 2-hour drive from there to Cartagena's office."

"Good. Fine. Book it," you retort and go collect your chucked folder. "Any hotel with availability is fine—"

"Yeah, I'm gonna make sure to book at the 4-star ones, so…maybe take a bathing suit with you to unwind after work? I could book your flight back for Sunday morning."

Scoffing irreverently and shaking your head, you retort glibly, "Billing is going to question the extra day—"

"And?" he blows a raspberry. "You let me handle that."

With that in motion, you go onto your next task and take Francesca along so she can shadow you. By the end of the day, you are looking forward to leaving so you can make a quick stop at the market for dinner. So you dutifully pack up your laptop and make sure you have everything you'll need while away from the office for a couple of days on-site at the two field offices.

"—Can you make copies of these for me, Fran? I want to make sure I have coverage for any meetings the next couple days since our fearless leader's gonna be away," you overhear Ellis remarking to Francesca at her cubicle as you walk out of your office and lock up.

"Will do!" the friendly intern gets up to do just that, passing you and remaking, "Have a nice trip, boss lady!"

"Thanks," you retort and smile as you shoulder your computer bag and juggle your purse and tote. "All set, then?" is your query to Ellis.

"Yep! Make sure you've got your passport. Charles offered to pick you up from the airport there, and he said he can drive you to Cartagena after since he and his wife are going for a long weekend to visit his in-laws there," Ellis explains as he hands you an itinerary before clearing his throat and asking in a hushed tone, "And, if a certain person asks for you while you're away?"

Scowling, you deadpan, "If that happens, please make sure to tell said person that if it's a work matter, he should have his deputy contact you to schedule an appointment—"

"And if it isn't a work matter?" Ellis chortles, and you glare at him, so he nods. "I got it."

Appeased, you give him a hug and head out to the elevators. A short while later, you're arriving home and starting dinner before you shed your blazer and pack a carry-on suitcase with enough clothes for a few days of travel.

You're setting the table when a series of knocks rap on your door. Flouncing over on your heels, you open it and smile at Sasha. He's dressed casually in a pair of black trousers, penny loafers, and a thin-knit gray sweater with blue collared shirt underneath. In his hand he holds a logo-less bag, and you have to suppress the impulse to admonish him for bringing anything else over. "Oh, I like this look," you compliment instead and kiss him on the cheek hello before ushering him into your abode. "Where's Nikolai?"

"He's reading in the car. You know him," Sasha shrugs as he waltzes in and admires your cozy main room before breathing in the delicious aroma of dinner. "I've been craving this all day!" he exclaims and whirls around to ogle you charmingly. "Damn, that dress looks so good on you," he compliments as he circles the coffee table and sits at the couch, setting the bag aside next to his leg. "What did your hotheaded lover say when he saw you in it?"

Lips twitching into a reluctant frown, you walk into the kitchen to pour him a drink. "He said I looked lovely," you mutter as you round the kitchen island and go over to hand him the drink before sitting on the sofa next to him.

"Hmph," he hums as he sips his vodka tonic, eyeing you. "Has he apologized yet?"

"No. We're not to speak of our relationship while at the embassy—"

"But, he tried to?" Sasha fishes as he crosses his leg and balances his hand with the glass casually on his knee.

"Yes…which infuriated me," you huff and dismissively scoff before standing. "Come, enough about this topic. Dinner's ready. Then you can tell me what's in that bag, bub."

Once at the table, you let Sasha know you'll be gone the next few days for an impromptu work trip, and end up making tentative plans to go out to dinner sometime next week. Dinner is uneventful and pleasant, filled with mirth and amiable banter, until you point over to the bag.

"Well, I was going to give it to you last night, but with the already-emotionally-charged tenor we ended up in, I figured I should wait to gift it to you," Sasha explains as he stands and takes your hand so he can lead you to the sofa. Once sat down together, he reaches into the bag and hands you a leather-bound book with engraved patterns along the borders.

Perplexed, you open the cover and realize it's a photo album. Gasping, you flip reverently through the pages and see a myriad of photos going as far back as the late 70s starring you, Irina and Sasha – as well as the relative who's who of celebrities, musicians, and iconic parties you'd attended around New York City. Pictures of you in Studio54 sitting on Sasha's lap while he leaned over to talk with Andy Warhol, dancing with Irina on the catwalk of an underground club under neon strobe lights – it was a treasure trove of your gilded days of youthful debauchery and delight.

"Oh my god. How did you get all these?!" you exclaim and stare wide-eyed at him as he grins beamingly.

"I knew who to ask around for them. Most of the photographers were associated with the venues, and some of the photos were taken by us anyway," he rumbles warmly and flips through the album to show you photos of you and Irina sunbathing in the Hamptons side-by-side while Sasha had clearly taken the photo straight down on your coolly lounging forms. There's another of you in a dazzling sequined dress in mid-spin at one of his last art gallery showings before you'd graduated college. "This one's my favorite," he remarks and points to a photo booth strip of you and him from Coney Island. It was a sequence of four vertical snapshots where you both where making funny face in each, with the final snapshot being a natural smiling photo of you both cheek-to-cheek.

Happy tears well over in your eyes as you smile and continue to look through the photo album. "Oh my god, I forgot about this!" you point out a photo taken by Irina of you and Sasha, dressed very glamorously, passed out together on a very narrow divan at an after-party during fashion week. "She was so mad at us," is your irreverent giggle as he puts his arm around you and peers down at the photo. "Remember? She wanted to meet up with Aslan, but we convinced her to go to that boring party and then we both snuck into the back bedroom and just fell asleep?"

"Oh, c'mon. I was high and you got tipsy and then we decided we needed to isolate from the party since neither of us were gonna be able to watch out for the other," he chuckles and cheekily squeezes your shoulder. "I can't believe my mouth was hanging open like that—"

"What a mess we both were," you cackle derisively and continue to lovingly look through the album.

"We were not a mess! It was all fun," Sasha scolds and shifts so he can pet the back of your hair. "We all became productive members of society…eventually."

You snicker and shut the album before hugging it to your chest. "Thank you," is your serene musing before leaning over and kissing his cheek. "Did Irina see any of these?"

"She helped me put it together!" he tells you glibly and pulls you close so he can kiss the top of your head.

While you both continue to talk merrily and reminisce about the tawdry things you'd done together while running around the city, Javier is getting home from work. Feeling forlorn and upset still, he goes directly for the whiskey bottle, pouring himself a greedy helping as he opens the fridge and stares at the remaining servings of lasagna you'd packed up as a lunch portions. Pulling one out and heating it up in the microwave, he stews as he yanks his tie off.

He wasn't upset by the thought that you probably were out again with Sasha. Nor was he mad that you'd shut him down in his office. But he was getting resentful with the course of his life. As he stood at the counter and ate dinner alone, Javi couldn't help get depressed that he was seemingly rudderless. His career was hanging on by a thread, the Cali cartel was getting away with everything, and now he was watching helplessly as his relationship with you began to dissolve through his fingers. Instead of solidifying things with you like he should've, he kept finding ways to push you away.

The fact that Stechner seemed to make it his pet project to sow doubt between you two also burned him up inside. At the very least, he felt he needed to explain what happened with Christina Jurado and assure you he had no feelings for the woman other than sympathy. And that yes, said sympathy had clearly clouded his judgment. But, most importantly, if you ever gave him the time of day again, he'd grovel for your forgiveness – tell you that he didn't care if you'd been with Sasha. Because the more he thought about it, the clearer it became to him that he really didn't care. He just wanted you back and to make sure you both were happy again.

Javier thinks about it the entire night, and when he wakes up the next morning, he's motivated to do something about it. Regardless of if it incurs your wrath. So, he rushed through his morning routine and makes it to the embassy early in order to get a chance alone with you in your office before the rest of your staff arrived. However, when he strode off the elevator and into your department, he found your door locked; lights in your office off.

Marching over to poke his head in Ellis's office, he finds it empty. Frustrated, Javi idly toys his fingers over his moustache and is about to hightail it out when he hears a pair hard-soled flats click in rapid succession into the work area before pausing.

"Uh, hey. You looking for something?" Francesca asks and peers at him curiously from behind her chic-rimmed glasses, arms occupied with a bunch of print materials of some sort.

"I was," Javi remarks as he fidgets from one foot to the other and digs his hands into the pockets of his brown slacks. "But I guess she hasn't arrived yet—"

"Oh, the director's on a business trip," Francesca offers and blinks at him. "She won't be back until next week." Surprised to see Javi's shoulders slump just a little before he vacantly nods, she wavers awkwardly, and then walks over to her desk. Clearing her throat to get his attention, she places the materials down and covertly slides a printout to the far corner of her desk.

When Javier just furrows his brows in confusion, she rounds her eyes and slides them to the edge of the desk that said-printout is now sitting at.

Taking the silent cue, Javi lopes over and peers down and sees it's an itinerary. More importantly, it's an itinerary with specified locations and contact numbers for the places you'll be at during your trip. Feigning innocence, Francesca whistles a silly tune and wanders away to go to a filing cabinet, leaving Javi to swipe the printout and fold it before exiting like he'd never been there. Smiling to herself, Francesca trots back to her desk and retrieves what she'd intended before moving on to her next task.

Meanwhile, you're at the airport, sitting at the bar and nursing a cappuccino while you wait for your flight. Feeling a bit compulsive, you decide to organize your purse while you wait, so you reach into it and arrange your wallet and passport book before shuffling some things around. The corner of an envelope pokes your fingertip, so you wince and pull it out, realizing it's the note you'd found in your car. Miffed, you exhale impatiently and open it to yank out the note and unfold it, deciding not to put it off any longer.

Querida,

I'm so sorry for hurting you. I was a complete bastard for how I spoke to you. There's absolutely no justification for the way I treated you. You were right: I'm just an insecure fool. You've never given me a reason to doubt you, and I had no right to feel betrayed in any way by your relationship with Sasha. You're the love of my life, and all I do is let my faults influence my callous behavior. You never deserve to be made to feel less than. I know I've only proven time and time again that I don't deserve you, but I hope you at least know that you are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You mean everything to me. I love you so much, and understand if you can't forgive me, but I hope you can.

Tienes mi corazón. Solo te quiero a ti por toda mi vida. Estás en mi alma para siempre.

I love you.

-Javi

Your vision blurs over from how overcome you are once you've read the letter. The heartache you feel has you unable to do anything but sit there and silently weep. It pangs beseeching in you, splintering bone-deep and leaving you buzzing with the gravity of how much you love Javi and regret being so spiteful to him. Shakily, you return the letter to the envelope and store it in your purse as you reach in to retrieve your cell phone. Using the napkin to dab at your eyes and dry the tear tracks from your cheeks and jawline, you're deliberating about calling him on his cell phone when they announce your flight is ready for boarding.

Flustered, you have to shut off your phone and hurriedly collect your things before rushing over to the end of the terminal where your gate is. Mercifully, it's a quiet flight and no one sits next to you, so you can get lost in your thoughts as you pull yourself together. By the time you land in Barranquilla, you don't have a free moment to wallow in your sadness or to fret over Javi once you've been picked up by the department manager and taken to the field office. It's a whirlwind of a day that ends with the successful implementation of the system linkup, so you take the staff out to dinner in celebration and thanks for all their hard work.

As promised, Charles and his wife give you a ride to Cartagena, and you spend the two-hour drive enjoying hearing about some of the spots they recommend you try before entertaining idle chatter about the office.

You're pleasantly surprised by the hotel they kindly drop you off at in the center of the city. The lobby is sprawling and finely decorated, and when you check in, you go up in the elevator and exit onto a freshly vacuumed carpeted hallway to your hotel room. Entering it and finding the bed already turned down, you smile and unload your things before appreciatively touring the tastefully decorated space. It has a nice large bed, and to your delight, the brightly tiled bathroom has a nice soaking tub as well as a shower stall. Smiling, you run a bath and call Ellis to thank him for the fantastic accommodations and to check in with him.

"—I'm glad, girlie! Everything's good here. I started vetting the list of names that Stechner guy gave you. I'll give you the specifics when you get back," he tells you as you undress. "Just make some time to unwind and enjoy the coast, for me."

"Hah, I plan to. If the linkup is as smooth tomorrow as it was today, I might let everyone leave early for the weekend and hit one of the beaches. Maybe even take a stroll and peruse the local shops," you remark as you lay out your pajamas on the bed. "Thanks again, Ellis."

"Anytime, kid. Talk soon!"

The long soak is just what you needed, and by the time you dry off and get ready for bed, you have no energy to call Javier. He's probably busy anyway. I'll just call him tomorrow night…

The next morning as you're sitting at a table having your continental breakfast, you notice the uptick in activity in the hotel lobby. When you pay the bill, you take the chance to ask the waiter if there's some special event occurring over the weekend to account for the increased crowds. He explains that there's a vendor showcase in the convention hall of the hotel.

As you're heading out through the lobby to hail a cab to the Cartagena field office, you pass the convention hall entrance and are intrigued when an event MC calls passersby over to enter a raffle. "—Winner will receive a swag bag with exclusive products from the vendor showcase that have yet to hit the Colombian market!"

When he catches your eye and eagerly waves you over, you can't help relent and walk over, figuring it wouldn't hurt. He explains the winner will be pulled at 5pm inside the hall and the prize can be collected at the customer service table. Placing your raffle ticket in your purse, you set off for the day.

The Cartagena staff ends up being just as industrious, so a task that took most of the day to do only required the morning and part of the afternoon to complete. Congratulating the staff and ordering lunch in for them, you suggest they've earned an early start to their weekend. Most are more than happy to end the workweek early, so by 3pm, you're back at the hotel. You store your tote and laptop in the room and go back down to the lobby, curious to see what the vendor showcase could be. You purchase a ticket, and head into the convention hall, expecting to maybe see a lot of novel products that aren't yet typical for the Colombian consumer.

You did not expect to walk by vendor kiosks promoting everything from benign things as surfer lifestyle brands pushing trendy polaroid cameras that were supposedly beach-proof, to adult offerings. Shocked, you walk through the crowds and stifle gasping at the obscene fair. Sure, you'd been to real kinky places like Hellfire Club in your wild days, but it's a whole other thing to see someone explaining nipple clamps to a possible distributor. You are scandalized, but also amazed, so you wander the naughty section of the convention hall and see all sorts of things you're sure would even have Sasha blushing.

Before you've even realized it, they're making the raffle winner announcement, and when they call out the numbers, you dimly reach into your purse for the stub and are dumbstruck when the numbers match. Blushing profusely, you discreetly make your way to the customer service table and hand over the ticket. The woman grins brightly as she pulls out the prize and slides it over to you with a coy wink before warmly congratulating you. Having enough sense as to not peek into the swag bag in public, you decide to hustle at a brisk pace out of the convention hall and across the lobby towards the elevator of your wing of the hotel.

Deciding it's still early to try and have a lounge at the pool at least, you enter the elevator with a tourist couple and another gentleman, and plan to get to your room, change into a bikini and cover up, and head back down. Just as the doors begin to slide shut, someone calls out for them to hold the elevator. The man standing closest to the panel presses the button to close the doors, which you're internally scoffing over when a large hand with a silver-watch-clad wrist breaches the threshold and causes the doors to automatically slide back open.

You glance up from adjusting the bulky swag bag in your arms and lock eyes with Javier.

He looks just as surprised to see you, but steps in and shoulders into the spot the not-so-gentleman has just vacated to slink to the back corner of the elevator. Neither of you say anything as the doors shut and the cab ascends. Your face is burning with a flustered blush, completely frazzled and doing everything in your power to keep your features stoic and body language relaxed. He's dressed in blue jeans and a khaki-colored button shirt with a breast pocket he's currently slipping his amber Aviator sunglasses into as he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

When the elevator arrives at your floor with a ding, you exit before the doors have even completely slid open.

Exasperated, Javi shoots a dirty look over at the man who'd obviously tried to shut the door on him before he stalks out and bounds down the hall, following the sign indicating the direction your room's number fell under. He's rounding the corner to the hall when you startle him by standing there waiting for him. Before he can hazard a stammered word, you swing your purse at him and smack him on the upper arm with it.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" you snap in an accusatory tone.

Exhaling a huff, he gravels out, "I had business at the DEA office here—"

"Bullshit."

"…I did visit the team here," he amends glibly and puts his hands on his hips as he eyes you. "And, sure, I decided to check in on you—"

"How the hell did you know I was here?" you snipe and shoulder the bulky swag bag so you can lean your weight onto one hip.

Javi gives you an appraising leer, loving how tight your navy skirt is and how the cotton blouse clings to your torso. "I might've seen an itinerary left on a desk that had this hotel listed on it…" he rumbles, brown eyes softening when you roll yours and turn to stomp down to your hotel room door. Intrepidly, he follows, remarking, "I was hoping we could talk—"

Whirling on him before opening your door, you glare at him. "You really came all the way here to just ask me that?" when he blinks at you and hesitates, you scoff, "Just talk?"

"Yes," he responds before haltingly suggesting, "Let me take you out to dinner? Or we could just walk and talk? Anything you want, querida—"

"I had plans, you know," you say to get him riled. When his shoulders just slump and he diverts his gaze in disappointment, you find yourself softening, so you relent, "Wait here."

He looks back just in time to see you breeze into your hotel room and shut the door. A few minutes later, you open the door, stepping out in a pair of strappy chancletas, a cherry-colored crotchet cover-up dress with a matching bikini underneath, and your purse at your shoulder as you brush your hair around to dangle over the opposite side. Javi turns from where he'd been leaning in the hall and stares, internally drooling at how chic and sexy you look.

"Where were you going dressed like that?" he husks, right hand doing that nervous tick at his side while he idly brushes his left hand over his jaw.

"I was going to lounge at the pool," you tell him as you lope over and aloofly shrug whilst you pass him to head down to the elevator. "It's warm out, and I saw plenty of tourists strolling around wearing less," is your musing as you go.

Javi watches your hips sway and follows, smirking. Once in the elevator together, you glance over at him when he states carefully, "We could walk along the wharf."

You nod, getting pensive. This is a lot sooner than you'd been anticipating having to hash things out with him. You let him escort you through the lobby out to the carport. The valet spots him and pulls up the rented yellow jeep, having not had an opportunity to park it off-site yet. Javi opens the passenger door for you and you hop in. He gets in and drives you both to the side of town closer to the old Spanish fortified walls and overlooks, parking near a park and getting out to round the jeep and help you exit. You're about to start walking in direction of the wharf when Javi threads your arm in his and leads you down a different path.

"I thought we're going to el muelle—"

"I know a better way where we can walk and be alone," he assures and continues to lead the way.

Pursing your lips and eyeing your surroundings as you stroll, you admire how the path leads down a cobblestone walkway towards the trim and rocky coastline skirting the circumference of the wharf. The sea is blue and placid under the waning afternoon sun, and you can't help spare a fawning stare at how serenely the waves ebb up the rocks and fill the air with a light spray that mists down comfortably over your warm skin.

"This is so nice," you remark wistfully as you gaze out at the bay over yonder and admire the picturesque cityscape of old and new edifices intermingled along the horizon.

Javi leans close to your ear and murmurs, "See that white estate on the shore across the way?" You nod and stare over at it as the sea breeze toys with your hair and the hem of your cover-up. "That's Gacha's old place. That night, before the Tolu operation? We'd raided that place, but it was empty. It'd been…really stressful, and after Search Bloc cleared it, I sat over there to clear my head," Javi tells you and points to a cliff that overlooked the bay, just off from the property. "I looked out at the waves, and called you. I remember feeling a weird sense of calm when I talked to you and looked out at the water. I meant it, when I said I wished I'd been there with you," Javi tells you in a canela-brined tone as he turns to face you, cupping your cheek after he brushes your hair behind your ear.

"I read your letter," you confess, voice cracking at the look in his dark brewed eyes. His expression is tense, anticipating rejection, and your heart hurts all over again. "I never meant to hurt you, Javi. I've been so ashamed…"

"You have nothing to be ashamed for," he grouses, frowning when you shake your head at that. "Baby—"

"No, listen. I felt so ashamed, because I was so selfish that the thought never even occurred to me to mention any of it to you. I didn't even think about how upsetting or hurtful finding out like that could be," you rush out, resolute in telling him what's plagued you all week. "I got defensive and was so spiteful," you pause, feeling your bottom lip start to quiver from how your repressed feelings are bubbling up in you now. "I j-just, I got so overwhelmed by your reaction…that you'd think I did it on purpose. I'd never want to hurt you, and the realization that you'd thought that, it scared me…" He wipes the tear that escapes your eye and rolled down your cheek. Your exhale stutters out of you as you murmur, "I'm so sorry, Javi—"

Unable to bear seeing you so upset, Javier pulls you into his arms and soothingly hums into your hair, letting out his pent up worry as you encircle your arms around him and hug him tight. "I'm sorry too, querida. I shouldn't have reacted that way," he hitches out roughly, growling, "I regret the fucking disgusting way I spoke to you—"

You curl up into him and pull him down to meet your lips. His breath catches in his chest as you both kiss your apologies and regrets away to instead get lost in the love and relief of being reunited. The tranquil sounds around you help anchor you back into the moment of calm respite, where you lean into Javi and melt into his strong, broad frame. He holds you and nuzzles your hair, having missed your scent and the feel of you in his embrace.

"I really need you to understand that Sasha and I are just friends, Javi—"

"I know, corazón," he murmurs and kisses your forehead. "I understand now. You don't have to explain," Javi assures before putting his arm around your shoulders and guiding you both to resume your stroll. You're still tense, so he tentatively muses, "Unless you want to tell me more?"

You lean into his side as you walk along the breezy path, comforted by his reasonableness. "I recognize now what you'd noticed," you begin, glancing up at him when he grunts. "What you'd said, about the sculpture? I didn't notice its resemblance until the other night when Sasha showed me some photographs a magazine had taken. One of them was like, an aerial shot down at the piece. I asked Sasha if it was supposed to look like me, and he said yes," you parcel out, gripping your purse strap nervously as you add, "He and I have just always been there for each other. We love each other, but we're not in love with each other, you know?"

Javi takes that in and hums thoughtfully as you approach an incline that wraps up along the wharf and will lead back along the conventional walkway that overlooks the sea view. "So, it was just sex, like…for comfort?" he asks without any judgment.

You nod. "We've always just gotten each other. Never judged what either of us were going through, and were always there whenever we'd need support," is your elaboration, caressing your hand from his back to around his waist. "I promise, he's not trying to vie to steal me away or challenge you," you quip and glance up at him through your lashes as he scoffs, smiling when he moves his arm from your shoulders to encircle you and tug you close so he can possessively nuzzle your temple.

"He's protective of you, though," Javi grouses and kisses your cheek before taking your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.

"And I am of him," you reply and squeeze his hand. "We've only wanted the best for each other. And we try being objective whenever it's needed. He helped me figure out things, the other night," is your musing retort as you let Javi lead you up the incline and wander over the stone and metal banister overlooking the sea and the now setting sun as it begins to dip down into the horizon line.

"Oh?" Javi queries as he leans his elbow on the railing and cups the small of your back. "He didn't tell you to dump me for being an asshole? Because I'd have deserved it," he not so deprecatingly huffs.

You give him a rueful pout. "No. He did tease me about caring so much. Said he was fascinated by it," you jibe offhandedly and kiss his throat before resting your head on his shoulder.

The breeze tousles your hair about and filters through his brushed curls, setting them wave about as he sighs and embraces you affectionately. "Fascinated because you'd put up with it?" he asks pensively.

"That, and because I told him I love you," is your matter-of-fact retort. "I've never talked about anyone like that with him."

Javi feels pride expand his chest. "I know I don't deserve it—"

"Yes, you do. I love you, Javi," you insist and shift to look at him, to cup his cheek and smile dotingly at him. "Stop thinking that you don't. I deserve you, so, how about that?"

He can't help the smirk that quirks his lips as he kisses the inside of your palm and drawls, "You must've been quite bad to deserve me—"

"I'm going to smack you if you keep that up," you snicker and shove him playfully so you can flounce away and shoot a coquettish wink over your shoulder at him.

Chuckling warmly, he easily gains on you and puts his arm around you again, continuing the leisurely stroll towards the manicured plaza with the cast-iron lampposts that are just starting to flicker on. Pretty soon, you've both traversed along the dusky city in romantic and rapt discussion before you spot a rustic cabana overlooking the bay. The closer you get, the more intrigued you are by the music, the easygoing vibe, and the jovial energy among the patrons who are dancing and chatting convivially under the lanterns that sway docilely from the breeze coming off of the sea.

It's a no-brainer, so Javi escorts you down and you both settle at the bar. It looks like more locals than tourists patronize the establishment, so you both settle in comfortably as you place your orders in Spanish and socialize warmly.

Before long, you're nice and toasty after a few drinks, and Javi's taking you out to the dance floor, where he's spinning and dipping you while you both laugh and have a good time. Looping your hands around his neck and anchoring to him, you press your nose to his chest and close your eyes, feeling at home and safe with him as he holds you and slow dances you to a quiet corner where just the two of you fill the void.

Your lips trail up to his jaw. "I love you," Javi whispers and nudges you affectionately to meet his kiss, so you coyly lean back and defy him. "Dame un beso, hermosa."

"Te quiero dar más que un beso, galán," you purr and brush your fingertips over his brow before ruffling his hair.

Javi groans enticingly and gives you a smoldering look. "It's still early, cariño. I have one last place I want to take you," he murmurs in your ear.

Intrigued, you nod and take his hand after you grab your purse and start en route back to the jeep. Javi drives you towards the older Cartagena de Indias district, and when you seem to go farther out, you look over at him and callout, "Is this where you're finally going to do away with me?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, querida," he exclaims and shakes his head at your acerbic humor. "We've long established that you're more likely to do away with me, if it ever came down to it," is his sarcastic huff, to which you giggle. A few minutes later, he pulls up in front of a rocky promontory and parks the car. After divesting of his sunglasses, badge and wallet, Javi hops out and rounds the car. "Come with me," he husks and takes your hand to lead you around a marked off path that winds around the rocks.

Confused, you let him lead the way under the dimming natural light before you spot the white house he'd pointed out to you earlier. It looks abandoned, and even though there are caution barricades mounted at several junctures about the property, Javi is leading you straight for it. "Are we allowed to be here?" you whisper and cling to his arm now.

"The government repossessed it, but hasn't done shit with the place," he remarks, which isn't really an answer to your question, but before you can follow up, he takes you down alongside a carved stone staircase that descends and opens up to a man-made beach, complete with a sandy shallow lagoon filled by the cresting waves of the sea cascading into the pool. When you gasp and gaze at the wonder, Javi smirks and pulls you over to a stone bench so you can sit on his lap and look out at your very own private oasis. "Does this make up for not getting to hang out by the pool?" he purrs in your ear.

You lean into him and kiss his cheek. "Yes. I can't believe this is here and no one takes advantage, with how crowded the beaches can get around here."

He caresses your lower back and nuzzles you, relishing your soft perfume. "It's too out of the way, and you can't even see it from across the bay, so most people don't know about it," Javi remarks and kisses you under your ear. "Just a hidden gem, albeit one made by a pinche asesino…" he drawls, and you snicker and bury your hand in the back of his hair to massage his scalp.

"Que le distes plomo," you laconically murmur and shift to gaze into his eyes. He pouts, so, with a teasing grin, you rub your palm into the open collar of his shirt and caress his chest flirtatiously as you purr, "Wanna take a dip?"

His eyes crinkle with mischief as you hop off his lap and start to kick off your sandals and shimmy your cover up over your head before tossing it down on the bench next to him. Not to be outdone, Javi kicks his boots off, sheds his socks, and unbuttons his shirt open. "I don't have swim trunks underneath my clothes, atrevida," he chuckles as you wade closer to the water and kick at it when it laps at your toes.

"Just take your clothes off and come over here already," you order playfully, smiling when he sheds his shirt and unfastens his belt before working his jeans undone and off. He's in those dark boxer-briefs you love so much on him, and even though the sunlight is pretty much gone, the moonlight and appearing stars illuminate the water around you and the stud before you as he struts down to the shore. You bite your lip and wade further in the water, keeping your reaction from him as you shout, "Come on in, Mr. Centerfold!"

Javier chuckles at your audacity and decides to rush down and just dive in after you—

And instantly regrets it when the chilly seawater hits his skin from head to toe. "Holy shit, it's freezing!" he bellows and thrashes back over to the shallow area.

"Ave María, of course it's freezing, you dork," you laugh and waddle back towards the shore. "This ain't no warm, Gulf of Mexico water, or even the warmer water from back home," you tease, pausing when he starts marching towards you. "No, don't do it—"

"Come here!" Javier chases you along the shallow shore and catches you as you shriek in protest and flail in his arms whilst he runs back into the water and plunges you both under.

You burst to the surface squealing and splash him wildly in retaliation. "Javier!" you yell and laugh out in silly peels as he encircles you and yanks you to wrap your legs and arms around him. "You're so going to get it!"

"Oh yeah? What am I gonna get, malvadita?" he taunts and squeezes your ass in his big hands, and suppresses a full-body shiver. "Fucking hell, I think my balls went back up inside me from how cold this water is!"

Your laugh hysterically and hook your arms around his shoulders, so you can anchor to him while he treads water for you both. "Is that even a thing?" you cackle into his jaw, and he grouses an amused sound before pinching your ass. You squeak and whine, "I'm just asking!" He snorts and suckles a kiss into your neck, so you encircle your legs until you're flush with his crotch and grind into him. "Mmm, well that doesn't feel like it's suffering any shrinkage," is your saucy purr.

"Fuck, mmph, you loquita. You can't tease me like that," he groans huskily and brushes his mouth over yours, voice becoming velvet over steel, as he purrs, "I was right. You look lovely under the moonlight."

You melt against him at that and kiss him with all the yearning you'd bottled up for days. When he deepens the kiss by sweeping his tongue into your mouth, you moan and keep rubbing your bikini-clad crotch over his, not getting over how his rock-hard cock feels against your throbbing clit in the chilly water. "Javi," you sigh out when he takes you both back to shore and gets tangled with you in the sand. Mewling, you arch and grab onto the forearm he's propped next to your shoulder before realizing there's something shiny on his wrist. Jolting back, you gasp and exclaim, "Oh shit, your watch!"

He shifts onto his shins and grimaces as he shakes his wrist out and sees water seep out of the casing. Tapping at the face and seeing no movement, he deadpans laconically, "Well, fuck." You frown, and Javi shakes the water out of his curls before standing and offering his hands to pull you up. "It's not a big deal, but we probably should get out of here, preciosa," he murmurs and helps you to your feet before helping you navigate back to the bench with your things.

Hurrying to get dressed, you both retrace your steps back up to the promontory and rush to the car. "Oh god, do you even have clothes to change into?" you fret as he turns the car around and drives back to the city. "Where are you even staying?"

"Technically I was gonna fly back tonight, so I got on standby," he answers unconcernedly and tilts his head to the back seat. "My duffle is back there, so I have something to change in—"

"I'm flying back Sunday morning, so you're gonna stay in the hotel room with me," you declare, tone leaving no option for argument, as you comb your fingers through his damp hair.

The more than pleased twinkle in his eye and purse of his lips has you smiling the whole way back to your hotel. Once he's parked, you enter the lobby and try not to look too obviously like you both took a dip in freezing water and are rushing to get in a hot shower. As soon as you're in your hotel room, you take Javi's watch off his wrist for him and set the caseback side down on the top of one of the lamps, strategically over the bulb, so the heat can help evaporate any water inside of it.

"Strip out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold," you tell him as you skip into the bathroom and prep the shower to run hot water. You hear him toss his duffle down out of the way, his boots getting kicked off, and the sound of wet clothes being peeled and shucked off while you shed your cherry cover-up and toss your sandy sandals aside on the tiled floor. You've just swept your hair out of the way so you can untie the spaghetti straps of your bikini top behind your neck when you feel Javi yank the straps around your torso loose.

"Fuck, I'd love to see this on you under a warm, sunny beach day," Javi rumbles as he hooks his fingers teasingly into the hip straps of your bikini bottoms and starts pulling them down for you.

"And in this scenario, is there a chance of me seeing you in a speedo?" you chime deviously as you reach your arms behind yourself to hook around his nape.

"Jesus Christ, no," he derisively blows a raspberry before caressing his hands down your hourglass shape and nudging his nude body into yours. "Get in the shower already, coqueta."

Snickering, you do so and pull him in with you. Once the hot water has chased the chill away from your bones, and the salt and sand are scrubbed away, you both revel in some foreplay before you stop Javi from slinking down your body in attempt to bury his face between your warm, wet thighs. When he grunts in disapproval, you card your fingers through his wet hair and pull him close. "Uh-uh, we have to do dinner first, and I don't know how late room service is open until," you tut.

Begrudgingly agreeing, Javi shuts the shower off and exits to grab a towel for each of you. After you've dried off and slipped into a fluffy bathrobe each, you wrap your wet hair in a towel and go to get the room service menu.

"Oh, they're open for only one more hour," you remark as you sit on the bed so you can recline against the headboard and fold your legs under you, tucking the robe snugly shut. Javi digs into his wet jeans and frowns, but finds his cigarettes dry in the slightly damp pack. With a flat grunt, he plops it on the nightstand and tosses himself sidelong on the bed so he can lounge in his robe while you peruse the menu. "What do you feel like eating?"

"You."

Slapping your hand down on the bound menu and giving him a narrow stare, you deride, "I'm not on the menu right now, fresco."

"What a terrible establishment, then," he ribs and folds his hands behind his head to stretch out fully on the bed. "I'll have whatever you're having," is his cool answer when you roll your eyes and hum at him.

Humorously grunting, you pick up the phone and press the button for room service. Ordering a sandwich, a plate of fries, and two sodas, you thank them before hanging up and setting the menu aside. "Ok, while we wait, I must also apologize for one more thing that's bothering me," you remark to Javi as you maneuver to lounge sidelong next to him. He raises his brows in surprise, but nods, so you continue evenly, "What I said about you and that woman – Jurado's wife. That was uncalled for."

Sitting up on his elbow, Javier encircles your waist and tugs you close. "It wasn't. I stupidly miscalculated that whole thing. I'd tracked her to the bar and hoped she'd mention her husband's location over drinks, but it backfired and I ended up having do disclose I was DEA," he explains and looks openly into your eyes. "She got pissy and stormed off, but I knew I couldn't stop pushing, so I went over to their condo and hammered home how fucked they'd be if Franklin didn't cooperate. But as soon as we learned his location, I should've immediately put her ass into protective custody. By the time Stoddard bungled over there, she'd freaked out and ran off…"

You caress his hair before tenderly tracing his cheekbone. "You think Cali had her snatched up?"

"I know they did, but I just don't know where and who is holding her," he grumbles and exhales noisily through his nose. "That fucker Stechner told you I was flirting her up at the bar," Javier grits out, and when you nod, he rests his head moodily on your shoulder. "It didn't mean anything, mi amor—"

"I know," you ensure and kiss the top of his head. "I'm gonna dry my hair quick before the food gets here. Answer the door if they knock?"

"Fine by me. Can I smoke?" he queries, and you nod, asking that he at least open the balcony door so it doesn't linger in the air-conditioned room.

After you've finished blow-drying your hair, you lope back in just as there's a knock on the door, but Javi beats you to answering it. He takes the serving tray from the porter and tips him before closing the door and placing it on the foot of the bed. He ends up walking by the swag bag you've left tucked aside for a third time now when he stubs his cigarette outside and shuts the slider.

"What's in the bag?" he asks curiously as you uncover the plates and open the sodas.

"Oh, there was a vendor showcase downstairs in the convention hall. I entered the raffle and won that. I haven't looked inside to see what items they stuffed in it, though," you remark as you go over to your tote and pull out a gift bag filled with an assortment of mini nips the Cartagena team lead had given you as a thank you gift. "Ah, yes! I thought I saw a few whiskey ones," you triumphantly muse as you pull out a mini whiskey bottle and toss it over to him.

He chuckles and pours himself a jack and coke. "You spoil me," he croons and sits to eat before patting the spot next to him for you to join him. You happily do so and sidle close as you fix yourself a rum and coke before reaching for the fries first. "No ketchup?" Javi asks as he grabs the miniature bottle and uncaps it.

"Blegh, no thanks. Have at it," you retort and grab the small bottle of local hot sauce instead before uncapping it and pouring a little dab on the corner of the plate closest to you.

Javier watches you dip your fries in it, and gawks. "You're such a weirdo," he teases as he puts a glob of ketchup on his side.

"Quiet, gringo," you counter sassily and bite into your half of the sandwich.

The meal is exactly what you both needed, and after imbibing more nips between you two before you've set the empty tray out in the hall and put the 'Do not disturb' sign on the doorknob, you lock the door and shut the curtain over the balcony slider, then prowl onto the bed and shove Javi down onto the pillows so you can kiss his neck.

"Wait a minute," he chuckles and squeezes your robe-clad-waist before gesturing with the tilt of his head to the swag bag. "Aren't you gonna look in there? What if it's more nips?"

You snort and scamper off the bed to grab the bag. "I'm kind of afraid to look inside," you admit as you plunk it onto the bed and slink back up next to him. "Some of the vendors were wild. I was shocked that they're gonna attempt to break into the market down here, considering some of the products. It's definitely going to be some interesting swag, I'm sure," you drawl and wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him.

Wildly curious now, Javi grabs the bag and unzips it before dumping the contents out on the bed. His eyes round and jaw drops at some of the boxed-up items. "Virgen Santa…" he gapes and picks up something labeled 'vibrating cock ring' before staring wide-eyed at you. "What kind of showcase was it?!"

You giggle and rifle through the items, organizing them so you both can marvel at the offerings. "It was all sorts of raunchy and kinky stuff, but then there were regular lifestyle stuff too," you tell him as you pickup the box with the fancy Polaroid camera and hold it up. "Like this. Supposedly it's water and sand resistant."

Javi picks up a narrow box that says 'edible lube' in glossy lettering. "A little bit for everyone, then?" he jokes and grabs for the clear package that has a set of pink nipple clamps. "Wow," he chuckles and holds them up like they're the weirdest novelty item he's ever seen.

"Oh, you can try those, if you want. Keep 'em away from mine," you giggle, before reaching for a scary-looking item. "Yikes, look at this thing!"

He balks when you hold up the box labeled 'butt-plug' and toss it over to him. "Jesus Christ. That can't fit up someone's ass—"

"Butt, sir. It says 'butt-plug' for a reason," you correct impishly and laugh out when he irreverently squeezes your side. "I'm sure Sasha would know if it's an exaggerated size or not," is your offhanded snicker as you set it aside and start to unbox the Polaroid camera.

"So, he's gay, right?" he asks, and leans back on his splayed hands, which allow for his robe to dip open a little at his chest.

"Yes, he identifies as gay, but he's dated women in the past," you reply and meekly smile when he grunts laconically at your answer. "I've asked if he could be bisexual, but he insists he's always been attracted physically and emotionally to men—"

"But you two have fooled around, so, attraction had to be involved," he queries dubiously.

"Well, yeah. We always had an attraction. He says I was his hetero exception, and while he liked what we'd do, he wasn't turned on by it when he'd hooked up with other women," you explain as you place the camera cartridge in and look through the viewfinder at him. You see how he eyes you, and it makes you concerned suddenly that you're skirting a line he's not looking to cross. "Is this making you uncomfortable?" you suddenly ask and place the camera down in your lap.

"No…I'm curious, is all. I saw how he was eye-fucking that guy," he remarks and grabs his drink in order to finish it in a final guzzle before adding, "I just find it interesting that he could be into it with you but not with other women."

"I mean…sex is sex. It feels good with most, regardless of sexual attraction, but I think attraction is boundless. You can be turned on by someone and not have it be about whether they're your 'type,' necessarily," you remark and lean on your side, which skews your robe to fall off your shoulder and expose a vast swath of your chest and collarbone. When his eyes flick from your revealed skin back up to your eyes, he grunts a curious sound, so you smile and chime, "What?"

"Just interesting, the way you said that," he retorts and sets his empty glass aside to sit up and pick up the camera to look into the eyepiece and act like he's roving it up slowly from your toes to your smiling face. "Not all sex is the same—"

"But sex with a girl is not that different from sex with a guy if you're just looking to get off," you tell him unselfconsciously.

He pauses and lowers the camera. "You've had sex…with other women?"

Pressing your lips together and sitting up, you deliberate about answering, but then when you don't feel him recoil or tense up, just stare with avid curiosity in his dark brown eyes, you decide you feel comfortable telling him.

"When I was at a boarding school in Westchester, I roomed with a girl I had a lot of fun with that semester. Then, over one long weekend when we were snowed in, we got drunk off of peach schnapps. We were being silly, and she suddenly asked if she could kiss me," you reminisce and idly fiddle with your hair as you elaborate, "I laughed and said yes, and she did, and it was nice, albeit different. It got a little hot and heavy, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the bed and she's kissing my pussy—"

Javi can envision it, and rather than get jealous, he's getting aroused by the idea, so he sets the camera down on the nightstand so he can lean close to you and rub his hand along the curve of your side.

"—It felt better than touching myself, and even though I wasn't really attracted to women, I found her beautiful and sexy, and she was making me feel so good," you tell him, eyes getting heavy lidded as you think back and describe it to him while he's getting you tingly from caressing your side and staring with heated desire in his eyes. "She made me come, and then we got naked and just, sort of…fooled around. Afterwards, when I was a little more sober, I asked her if she was a lesbian, or if it was just something to do and I was the only one around to do it with," you snicker into your shoulder, feeling silly all of a sudden for telling him.

"What'd she say?" Javi asks in that low register that rakes excitement up your already titillated senses.

"She said she was a lesbian. I told her I wasn't, but that I liked fooling around. So, whenever the mood struck us both and we were so inclined, we'd have sex," you answer and scoff at yourself, hiding your face behind your hand as you fluster, "I've not told anyone about that, except for Sasha. Not even Irina."

He reassuringly nuzzles kisses into your neck before lounging next to you. "Give me your hand."

Huffing girlishly, you lower your hand from your face to place it in his. Javi then takes it, and guides it beyond his robe so you can feel how hard he is from just listening to your story. "I'm going to admit something that I've never told anyone," he confides in a hushed tone and looks up at you through his lashes. Nodding, you touch him, and he closes his eyes, taking a shaky breath, as he tells you in a whispered murmur, "It wasn't something I meant to keep secret, but…never thought I could tell either. I-I—It's just not the thing you'd tell your buddies. Nothing to brag about, so, I just never…"

You hum, hand palming his hard length and rubbing your thumb along the head before drawing it ever so gently over his frenulum. "Tell me, hermoso," you whisper and kiss his cheek.

Javier bites back a groan and licks his lips before mustering the courage to peer over at you. "I was at a frat house party. They kept hounding me and a couple of my buddies on the football team to join, so I-I went, and this guy I knew from around was there getting hassled," he pauses and licks his lips. "So, we ended up grabbing all the good liquor they'd hid in case the party got crashed by campus police, and we snuck up to the attic and just got drunk off our asses," he pauses as he thinks of the kind of deriding, even malicious things that would've been lobbed at him had he ever told this story to his peers. "My memory's a little fuzzy, but at some point we were sitting on the floor under the window, side-by-side, and we were joking around – tossing a nudie mag he'd found in an open box back and forth before we started looking through it," Javi hesitates when you hum and swivel your thumb over the head of his cock. He groans and blushes, cheeks almost pink now as he confesses, "Next thing I remember is touching myself over my jeans and looking over and he's doing it too, and I think about stopping, but then he unzips my fly and pulls my cock out."

His cheeks are burning as he clenches his eyes bashfully. You kiss his temple and coo, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Javi—"

He stills your hand and looks up at you. "He started jacking me off, and I-I was so fucking horny, I just let him, and then right when I was panicking on whether I should reach over and touch him too, he shifted and sucked the head of my cock into his mouth," Javi confesses in a frazzled stream of consciousness to you. "I was so turned on that I just closed my eyes and got off, and covered my mouth when I came so I wouldn't moan loud. I was so fucking worried someone would hear and come up and catch us…"

Rubbing his inner thigh soothingly, you murmur, "That's not a strange worry to have had at the time, chulito. I was just as nervous that anyone would walk in on Beatrice and me. Did it end ok?"

"Sort of. I was trying to wrap my head around it when he suddenly started apologizing and swore he wouldn't tell anyone," Javier mutters bashfully and curls onto his side to hide his flushed features into your shoulder. "I just remember being like, 'yeah sure, uh, that's cool,' and I put my dick back in my pants and sort of stumbled out of there and back to my dorm."

You run your fingers through the back of his hair and kiss the top of his head. "Want to hear something funny?" When he nods and grunts in the affirmative, you reveal, "Until I'd met Sasha? I thought cunnilingus was something only girls did with each other—"

"Pffft, no you didn't!" Javi cracks up and leans up on his elbow to gape at you.

"I did! I mean, no guy had done it up until then, and then Sasha asked if he could try it, since he'd never wanted to with his previous dates, and I was like, 'But, that's what girls do during sex – eat each other out,' and he just stared at me like I'd said something so naively cute," you confess and give him a crooked smile when he pets his hand over your hair lovingly and snickers. "Don't get mad, but, picturing you with another guy turned me on," you silkily murmur and brush your nose teasingly along his. "But, I never want to share you with anyone else."

Javi grunts and pulls you close, slipping his hand to nudge your robe open so he can touch your skin as he kisses along your jaw. "I don't want to share you with anyone else either. Even though thinking of you having sex with another woman is fucking hot," he purrs and rubs his hand along the plump curve of your ass. "Did you stay in touch with her?"

"With Beatrice?" you ask distractedly, since he started kissing that spot on your neck that makes you weak after he asked you. When he grunts in the affirmative, you reply, "Yeah. She works at the United Nations. She's been dating the same woman for a few years now." After he slips a hand up between your thighs, you curl into him and ask, "Did you ever see that guy again?"

Javi's hand kneads your inner thigh idly as he tilts his face up to nose your jaw sensually. "Yeah. He avoided me like the plague, though. I think he was scared of being outed. I found out a while later that he'd come out after he'd graduated, and had a hard time during school because he'd gotten bullied by some of the jocks," he tells you and huffs. You cup the back of his head and guide him up so you can kiss his lips and gaze alluringly into his eyes. His hand goes back to caressing you as he husks, "What's that look?"

"Just curious," you murmur and melt when he suckles a kiss into your neck. "H-Have you ever had a threesome?" you breathily ask as he rolls you onto your back so he can unwrap the robe off of you and kiss further down your neck now.

"A few, yeah," he answers, smiling when you wiggle your arms free of the robe and then pivot him onto his back so you can suckle kisses into his neck while you tug his robe open in order to press flush against him. "Have you?"

"Yeah. Only with Sasha, though. They were not that fun—"

Javi stills under you and looks at you to make sure you're not just saying so to placate him. "Really. Not fun? Two guys on you?"

"Yes! It's not fun when all of a sudden you get nudged to the side of the bed and the guys are in the throes of passion without you," you giggle and then crack up completely when he gapes comically at you. "I ended up sitting on the side wrapped in a blanket to watch them while I nibbled on strawberries they were supposedly going to use on me, so..." is your derisive elaboration.

"Well, fuck me," Javi chuckles and rolls over onto you so he can rub his hard cock along your mound cheekily as he drawls, "I only did it with girls. Most of the time though I'd watch them go at it; end up fucking one who'd go down on the other. Most threesomes are work—"

"Would you ever want to have one with me and Sasha?" you deviously inquire and grin when he literally pouts and flares his nostrils crossly. "I'm kidding!"

"You better be," he growls and sits up enough so he can pinch your nipple and roll it between his forefinger and thumb. You squeak and swat his hand away before wrestling him onto his back so you can nip at his nipple in retaliation. "Cristo amado, woman!" he exclaims and squirms before grappling playfully to yank you down and flat over his chest while you laugh effervescently and let him. "Contrary to what I confided earlier, I just don't swing that way—"

"But it's not about swinging either way. Just being in the mood and open to getting turned on and letting someone make you feel good," you challenge wryly and kiss his chin. "Have you ever done any butt-stuff?"

"I am not letting you use that giant butt-plug on me!"

You laugh hysterically. "Of course not! But I am pretty sure you've done anal with your putas—"

"Yeah, but them receiving, not me," he grumbles huffily and wrinkles his nose at you. "I love you, but there's no way I'm letting that dude fuck me—"

You're now laughing so hard from his cranky stance on the subject that you roll off of him to lay on your back. Javi turns his head to look at you snootily, but his smile is pulling at his mustachioed lips. He loves seeing you guffaw so heartily, and in the nude? Well, it's a treat to watch your breasts jiggle as you laugh until you're short of breath and your tummy flexes.

"We've never done it."

You grin at his suggestive tone and sit up on your elbow, letting out an amusedly charged exhale before smiling coquettishly at him. "We almost did, that one time—"

"I was not going to fuck you like that when you were all banged up," he scoffs and brushes the hair dangling to frame your face behind your ear.

"I appreciate your consideration," you tease, snickering when he snorts and cups the small of your back so he can pin you in place at his hip. "So…have you ever been curious to try something, but didn't think you should?"

"You mean something bi-curious?" he laconically asks and arches a brow at you.

"Oh my god, it's not about gay, straight, or bi! I'm just asking if you've wanted to do anything naughty that you thought you'd like, but never did," you pose haughtily before walking your fingers down his sternum to his stomach goofily.

"Like what?" he asks in a honeyed gravel, eyes staring intriguingly at you.

"Well, like, for me? I'd always been curious what it'd feel like to have someone put their mouth where the sun don't shine," you joke bawdily in a silly faux-southern accent and bat your lashes at him while he chuckles irreverently. "But, I never tried it, until this beyako I know turned me into a fruit platter—"

Javi rolls to pin you down on the bed and loom over you provocatively. "We've got all these aids we could play with and see what else you'd like me to do to you," is his thick baritone purr as he slides your arms up and pins them together with one hand while he reaches over and grabs the bottle of lube. "Hmm, strawberry-flavor," he chuckles and bounces his brows at you.

You giggle and hook your legs around his hips to tug him closer. "Tell me one thing you've never done but wanted to try, and I'll let you put anything you coat in that stuff wherever you want," you seductively propose and dampen your lower lip as you stare sultrily up at him.

Exhaling boisterously, Javi leans down and kisses you while his hand releases your wrists so he can sling it under you and sweep you up to lounge against him and the propped up pillows at the headboard. "I guess…whenever I'm getting great head, I've been curious about how it'd feel for it to trail lower…" is his mumbled grouse, and from how his cheeks flush and the heat flares up to the tops of his ears, you know exactly what he's referring to. But before you can seduce him over it, Javi sits up and nudges you to recline fully back into the pillows by tugging your hips up and balancing you precariously. "Now, I'm gonna get you nice and ready, then we'll see how much you can take," his honeyed growl sends a pulse of desire so exhilarating that your already wet pussy gets drenched with more dewy arousal.

Without any ceremony, Javi leans back on his heels and hooks your legs over his shoulders before burying his face in your tingling cunt and licking into you. You gasp and arch, one hand gripping the bedding beneath you while the other clings to his wrist as he angles the cradle of your pelvis up to his greedy ministrations. He suckles hard over your clit before nuzzling into your pussy and eating you out with aplomb, like a man who knows your every desire and erogenous delight. The breathy mewls become heady cries of his name the closer he strums your pleasure to the point of shattering within you.

It happens when he plunges his tongue into your fluttering cunt and moans at your walls clutching around the wicked appendage as you writhe and fall apart, climaxing fiercely in his embrace.

You feel like melted sinew when he lays you width-wise on the bed and rolls you onto your tummy so he can reach for the lube and unbox it.

"Prop your knees up for me, baby," he murmurs and caresses his hand down your lower back. "Show my that tight little hole."

You shiver and make a raspy sound of anticipation as you nudge yourself up so your warm and smooth derrière is high and right for him. He groans in approval and fondles a globe of your ass when you whimper, "J-Javi, please—"

"Tell me it's mine, guapita. That no one else can have it but me," he intensely husks and lightly slaps your ass, marveling when your pussy clenches and weeps with need.

"It's yours—only yours, mi patrón," you whine and blush.

Pleased and incredibly turned on by your reaction – as well as the lewd pet name, he rewards you by trailing open-mouth kisses down the line of your spine before pushing a guiding hand to arch your back more just as he swipes the flat of his tongue from your dripping pussy all the way up through succulent valley of your ass and along your asshole. You keen out and bury your face into the bed as your mind hazes over with pleasure. "Mmm, D-Dios mío," you whimper out when he flicks his tongue over your tight little ring of muscle. "Oh Javi—"

Your plea becomes a moan when Javi teases your ass, laving and curling his tongue into you and humming against your now eager flesh. "Such a good girl," he hoarsely rumbles and adjusts so he can rut his cock through your folds from behind. "Wanna make you f-feel so good. Do you trust me, tiernita?"

You nod vigorously and mewl, "Yes, yes—trust you with everything, Javi."

Rubbing his warm palm appreciatively over your ass, he grunts puckishly as he buffets his fingers down for a light tap. "You're gonna tell me if it's too much – if you want me to stop," Javier instructs gently, voice more a croon before he grouses commandingly, "And you're gonna tell me what feels good."

"Yes, Javi. P-Promise," you stammer breathily and writhe, as his rutting becomes the press of his cock entering your pussy from behind. "Nngth! Oh god—" He guides his cock to stroke into your clenching sheath, getting you enthralled on the feel of him working you over as the hand gripping your hip fondles over to grip your ass cheek before he swipes his thumb languidly over your tight ring and circles the pad teasingly around it. Your fingers grip the bedding as you light up and buck back into him, moaning, "Mmm, please do that again!"

Javi groans and thrusts his cock as he repeats the trace of his touch before pressing into your flexing opening. You cry out and tense. "Too much?" he asks over you through clenched jaw. Shaking your head, you bite your lip and practically buckle under him when he loops his other hand around your hip to dip between your thighs and rub your clit. "Use your words, preciosa," he husks against the shell of your ear, as he teases your pleasure point and gives a deep slam of his cock into you.

"N-No, not too much, j-just new," you gasp out and start to pant. "Please, Javi. Give me more—"

He nudges his head against yours in a show of approval and then pulls out of your silken heat before slamming all the way back in and pressing more of his digit into your ass until you've contracted and taken him to the knuckle. Your cry is heady and scintillating as you shudder forward and slicken his cock with a gush of arousal.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight," he hums licentiously and pulls his thumb out slowly to watch the puckering flesh flex for more. "Gotta open you up more," Javi hoarsely murmurs and groans when you rock your hips back and keep fucking yourself on his cock. It's so good that he contemplates just fucking you like this, but you suddenly bow forward and look alluringly back at him over your shoulder.

"W-Wanna feel you split me open, Javi," you whisper tenderly and shiver when you feel his cock throb in response.

Punch-drunk on that, Javier pulls his dick out of your cloying heat and strokes it to spread your slick arousal all over it before hitching up behind you and skimming his cock along your puckering entrance. He knows he needs to stretch your tight hole out more, so while he ruts his cock, he grabs for the lube and flips the cap open in order to coat his fingers with it before dribbling some of the cool substance over your ass. You gasp in surprise at the new sensation, so he kisses the back of your shoulder reassuringly.

"I need to get this tight little hole ready for me, baby," he ruggedly coos and sweeps your hair into his hand so he can see your flushed and hesitant features. "Don't want it to hurt—" You mewl and nod in understanding, not trusting your panting to keep your voice from cracking.

Rubbing his slick index and middle fingers over your entrance, Javi plays with your ass while his cock edges through your folds to grind your clit. The pleasure has you feeling like you're becoming liquid – a pliant thing wanting to be happily pulled apart like clay in order to be sculpted anew. He's able to work one finger into you, and quickly adds a second. You moan and relax when his fingers plunge in, slow and careful as they pump in and out while you hump his cock and feel another orgasm building in your burning core. Javi can feel your thighs trembling, so he lets you rub your pussy over him while he finger-fucks your ass and avidly watches you whimper and mewl from the decadent effort of not becoming the wild, hungry little minx that wants to take her pleasure.

Just when you feel his talented digits scissor apart in you, you cry out, "Oh god, Javi—" and come undone, climaxing on his cock and mindlessly arching down into the bed. It's a shaky rapture-addled few seconds until you realize Javi's hand is clutching your waist from how you clamped your thighs shut and trapped his throbbing cock between them when he buried his two fingers inside your ass.

Hoarsely, Javi croaks, "Mmmph, t-think you're ready, mi amor."

The reedy exhale you let out as you wilt face-first into the bed is delirious with pleasure, so you're unashamed when you affectionately hiss, "Just put your big dick in me already, chavón!"

He snickers and taps your ass in unspoken order for you to pry him loose. Your thighs are slick and warm, but to be sure he's more than coated to provide the right amount of smooth give, Javi recedes his fingers from your tight entrance and lubes his cock up with the cool gel before guiding you to press your front flush on the bed while he hitches up against your ass and starts the ruinously exhilarating plunge into your puckering heat.

"Mmm, f-fuck," he grunts and concentrates on not losing his composure when the head of his cock barely fits inside your tight ass while you let out a shrill sob. "Need me to s-stop—?"

"No. Please don't stop, Javi," you gasp out and squirm for more.

So, with careful regard, Javi pushes his cock into you more until he's completely penetrated your tight asshole and earthed a devastating hunger to take root in both of you. He's never done this without a condom, so the sensation has punched the breath out of him as you moan and try to acclimate to him filling you so. Javi hunches over you and groans behind your ear as he experimentally angles back and thrusts forward.

"Oh fuck!' he swears gutturally as you clench up and curl into the bed, which is protesting under the motion of Javi's plunging strokes into your impossible vice-like heat building momentum. You're dimly aware of boxed items falling off the edge of the mattress as he picks up the pace of his thrusts while you reach a hand behind yourself to cling onto his forearm, moaning when he thickly groans, "Feel fucking amazing – never f-felt this fucking good before!"

The pressure is novel and overwhelming, causing you to feel stretched but throbbing for more. "Ay, Javi—feel so full! So good, please-please, fuck me more—!"

Javi lets out a strangled sound of floored arousal and quickens his piston-like thrusts into you. He grips to pin you in place since you're writhing and moaning wantonly, becoming wild from the euphoria of pleasure when he jams his hand between your thighs and fills your cunt with his fingers – plunging them in and out of you while his cock plunders your ass.

It's all too much, and before you can articulate the onslaught of bliss, you're shouting wordlessly as you come. You quiver and wail in a pitched cry of ecstasy when Javi rushes to pull out of you so he can jerk his cock against the tight cleft of your ass before he erupts with a guttural moan of your name as he finishes and paints his cum over your lower back and the swell of your ass. Shakily, he swears, "Dios mío misericordioso," before wavering and propping himself up on his arms to box you in. He looms over you, but is utterly wrecked when your body gives out and you finally flatten on the bed with a shakily exhaled sound. Nuzzling your sweaty neck and nosing into your hair, he rasps, "You alright, mi vida?"

You melt and let out a blissful sigh. "Yes," is your satiated, breathily drawn out lilt, smiling over your shoulder and looking alluring, albeit exhausted. "That was…"

He nods in comprehension when you can't finish the thought. Once he's sure his legs aren't going to give out, Javi ambles off the bed and gets a washcloth from the bathroom, returning quickly to give you doting aftercare. The cool terrycloth wipes down your back before sweeping between your buttocks, and gently cleans your puffy, still tingling pussy. After you're taken care of, he flips it around and cleans himself of the lube and comingled fluids. Tossing the robes aside and picking you up in his arms, Javi tenderly slips you under the covers before curling up behind you to spoon and caress you lovingly.

Even though he's left the lamp on, you can't muster keeping your eyes open after he railed you so perfectly.

"Why didn't you come inside?"

He shifts at your mumbled, breathy query before kissing behind your ear and nuzzling you sweetly. "I've never done it, so…I figured we could save it for next time," he murmurs in a soft bass and holds you close.

You smile dreamily and reach your hand backwards to bury it in the back of his hair. "When I'm not made of jelly anymore, I want to taste that lube on you," you purr in a smoky lilt, earning a warm, rich chuckle from him.

"Nap, then more fun trying out the rest of your swag?" he proposes smugly.

"I saw a warming massage oil in the pile," you chuckle suggestively and tilt your face back so you can kiss him under his jaw. "And the nipple clamps—"

"Ha-ha, yeah fucking right," he snickers and nuzzles a cheeky kiss into the back of your neck, relishing your tranquil sigh as you relax in his arms.

Burying his nose in your mussed hair, Javi dozes off soon after you drift into a serene slumber.

Nothing could ever pull you apart again after such an intimate, poignant evening together. At least that's what you both intuitively feel between each other, feeling protective and secure in the strength you both share now along with the unconditional love that gravitates you together. So, you both rest, content and hopeful after a week of heartache.

Heartache that will rear back during a tumultuous period to come, but for now, goes dormant – waiting patiently for its opportunity to try and wedge you apart once again.

---

Spanish-English Glossary:

Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Tienes mi corazón. Solo te quiero a ti por toda mi vida. Estás en mi alma para siempre = You have my heart. I only want you for the rest of life. You are in my soul forever

Chancletas = Sandals

El muelle = The wharf

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

Dame un beso, hermosa = Give me a kiss, beautiful

Te quiero dar más que un beso, galán = I want to give you more than just a kiss, handsome

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Pinche asesino = Fucking killer

Que le distes plomo = That you you gave lead (references to "Dale plomo" when Javi gave the order to shoot Gacha)

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Ave María = Hail Mary

Malvadita = Little wicked girl

Loquita = Crazy little girl

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Coqueta = Tease (female)

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

Mi amor = My love

Virgen Santa = Virgen Mary

Hermosa/hermoso = beautiful (female); beautiful (male)

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Cristo amado = Christ beloved

Putas = Whores; prostitutes

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

Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady

Mi patrón = My master/boss

Dios mío = My god

Tiernita = Tender little girl

Chavón = a man that's pestering you

Dios mío misericordioso = Dear merciful God

Mi vida = My life; signifies how deeply you love someone and consider them to be your whole world

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