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?

35. Chapter 35: Spoil

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral (m+f receiving) and unprotected sex, both vaginal and anal intercourse. Mentions of toxic coping mechanisms, film references and adult situations. Descriptions of raunchy behavior, light dom/sub play, roleplay, cum play, competence kink, size kink, praise kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to self-loathing, regret, and emotional trauma. Some Needy!Javi, Dom! Javi, Soft!Javi.

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Chapter 35: Spoil

So much has happened recently that you almost forget about all the stressful stuff you need to manage at work. Most pressing is the final linkup that will connect state side's network with the one you've established across all the embassy field-offices in Colombia, expanding the capability of data transfers, automating inter-agency intel sharing, and far more.

The rest of your week is a delicate balance of overseeing that work, losing Ellis for a couple days when he travels to San Juan for his interview, and juggling apartment hunting on you and Javi's free time. So far, the three places you've looked at hadn't ticked off all the necessary boxes for either of you. The apartment you were both touring today had been so bad that you'd found yourself admiring Javi's fresh trim – internally lamenting the temporary loss of the cute curls that had begun to brush his forehead no matter how much he combed them back. His profile was lit gorgeously by the waning sunlight coming through the very narrow transom window in the bedroom, and you'd fought the impulse to sigh out wistfully at his ridiculous handsomeness when he'd looked over and caught you staring.

His mustachioed lips quirked into that rugged smile that threatened to unearth the dimple in his cheek, and he'd waltzed over to whisper with syrupy sweetness, "The best thing about this room, is you standing in it, looking at me like that."

Biting your lip wryly, you hum and let him encircle your waist with assertive confidence. "Looking at you like what, pray tell?" you murmur back and caress your palms up his chest, toying your fingers idly around his tie.

"Like you're gonna do something real naughty to me," he purrs in your ear before brushing his lips teasingly alone your cheekbone.

Snickering and swatting him playfully on the bicep, you roll your eyes and grin as you tipped your head in gesture of, 'Let's get outta here,' before towing him along to exit the cramped bedroom.

The realtor had learned to let you both wander the space and whisper to each other, so when you'd come back to the main area, she was pleasantly waiting for your feedback. She didn't seem surprised that it didn't meet all your parameters, and you wondered to yourself if anything would. But, as you'd wrapped up the showing and exited to the lobby, she'd conspiratorially mentioned having a lead on a possible listing that was yet to be referred to for embassy housing that she thought could work for you both.

Eagerly making an appointment to see it early the following week, you and Javi had gone home to his place. And after going through the routine of making dinner, sitting together to eat and then calling your grandmother to check in and fawn internally when she and Javi pleasantly chat for a bit before you tell her you'll gab more Sunday, you'd both moved to the cozy sofa as you looked up the address on the map you'd been using to annotate things.

"—Oh! It's a 20-minute commute to the embassy, but near the café. And look, it's even within walking distance to the market," you gush as you point at the landmarks before resting the map over Javi's lap so you can loop your arms around his shoulders and lean into him on the couch. "Location is perfect," is your dreamy sigh while he smugly hums and peruses the map, encircling his arm around your waist to hold you close.

"Yeah, not bad at all. Looks like there's a drycleaner nearby too," he muses, looking over the routes and thinking it might just be a good candidate. "What time's the showing again?" he murmurs as he noses into the hair just above your ear.

"It's late in the day, because I have the linkup with stateside, but Ellis can handle the tail end of it so I can leave to get there in time," you remark, smiling when he sets the map on the coffee table so he can lounge on the couch and pull you into his side for more cuddling. "You going to be able to make it?"

"Think so. I got my guys back from Cali with the latest. We'll be brainstorming options for operations so I have something ready to present Crosby with," he retorts and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, feeling content after dinner and in no rush to move as you nuzzle his neck and caress kisses along his stubbly jaw. "You haven't told me how things went in San Juan for Ellis. Any word on a decision yet?" is his query as he starts caressing his hand along the curve of your derrière in the tight gray pencil skirt.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. "I think it's a done deal. They loved him, and I suspect they're just trying to triangulate timing on when he can get down there, but obviously he's insisting on Anita and her parents being squared away on their visa applications first," is your reply. "I figure if they can expedite everything, he'll be gone in a month, give or take…"

Javier frowns at how you try to submerge the melancholy from your tone. "Got anyone in mind to take his deputy role?" he asks as he affectionately runs his fingers through the back of your hair now, soothingly massaging your scalp.

You melt into him and visibly relax. "Mmhmm. Jackie Espinosa's going to take his place, and Devon Williams – the guy who's romancing your Noreen – is going to take over for Jackie's projects," you tell him, and then suddenly sit up to straddle his lap, which earns a little grunt from him as he adjusts his sitting stance. "Which reminds me: Devon told Ellis today that he wants to disclose the relationship to HR," is your silky chime as you bounce your brows at him.

Intrigued, he sits up and loops his arms around your waist. "Shit, so does that mean we have to get pulled in on meetings about it now?" he chuckles laconically and smirks when you lovingly brush your fingertips along his forehead with one hand while the other combs into the neatly trimmed hair at the back of his nape.

"Well, it looks like it can be something just our deputies manage directly. We only have to sign off on a form," you retort before teasingly leaning forward to ghost your lips over his as you purr, "But when it comes to us? We'll both have to go personally to HR and Crosby for our disclosure."

"Oh yeah? You actually asked that?" he grouses in that canela-smooth drawl of his as he tugs you close so he can brush his nose along your neck before suckling a kiss over your pulse point.

You hum and now card both your hands into the back of his hair when his mouth latches on that erogenous spot just under your jaw. "N-No. Turns out there's a protocol manual that details all the different scenarios. Ellis read it and let me know," you explain and brazenly undulate your hips over his lap to grind down over the bulge in his pants. Javier groans and kneads his hands to grip your ass. "Looks like we might be in trouble for waiting so long to disclose it—"

"Fuck, you're gonna be in trouble if you keep teasing me like this, atrevida," he rumbles huskily against your jaw, and at your sultry little chuckle, he growls and effortlessly picks you up as he stands from the couch. You squeak in surprise and wrap your arms and legs around him as he rushes with you down the hall to the bedroom. "Alright, mi directora, I think it's time to get you out of your sassy little outfit now," he husks gloatingly before laying you on the bed so he can yank the jade green clasp-buttoned blouse open to reveal your bustier bra.

He gets lost admiring how your tits are pushed up in the blush-toned padded lace, making your bosom look like a bounty just for him, so you take advantage and nimbly pivot to scamper up on the bed, playfully giggling when he scoffs and chases after you.

"Get over here, traviesa," Javier chuckles as he catches your ankle and glides you back over to him, but you rambunctiously grab him by the back of the shoulders and use your momentum to roll him onto his back so you can pin him to the bed and grin triumphantly down at him. With a charming smirk, he starts to drawl derisively, "Tan juguetona—"

"I pinned you down, stud, so you strip for me, and I'll reward you for being such a good sport," you cut in sexily as you reach behind yourself and pull the zipper down on your skirt.

"What kind of reward?" he croons cockily, arching a brow as he rests his hands behind his head to stare up at you goadingly.

"Well, before you got home last night? I put something in your nightstand drawer. If you're a good boy and strip for me – without being all surly about it, I'll let you use what's in the drawer on me however you want," is your sultry proposition before you get off his lap to shed your skirt and blouse, tossing them into the nearby hamper so you can stand in your lingerie before him.

Javi's eyes rove your body, loving how the silk and lace panties you have on hug the contours of your hips.

Amused by his leering attention span, your hands prop to your hips as you lean your weight onto one leg and shoot him a mocking look, and with a provocative lilt, purr, "We have a deal, mi patrón?"

Fuck, Javi groans to himself, loving that raunchy pet name way too much for it to be right.

He can't help be intrigued by your proposition, avid curiosity riled by what could possibly be stored in the nightstand. So, he yields and sits up on his elbows, which makes his white dress shirt with the pale blue graph check pattern strain taught across his broad chest and cling to his biceps. He'd shed his blazer, tie, shoes, belt, and watch before rolling up his shirtsleeves and undoing the top two buttons of his collar, so he looks like an absolute stud come home from work, daring you not to pounce on him.

It makes you internally swoon a little.

"I just need to strip for you?" is his laconic query, clearly expecting there to be a catch.

"Yep," you tut as you strut around the bed towards the leather chair tucked in the corner next to the curtain-drawn windows. "Channel your best impression of Julian Kay for me, maybe?" is your playful singsong as you sit in the chair and toy with your hair coquettishly while batting your lashes at him.

Javier had been following your sultry lope around the room until he was watching you sit in the chair upside down with his head tilted back, so he rolls over onto his stomach now so he can cup his cheek in his hand and give you a curious look before he queries, "Who?"

You sit up in the chair and lamentingly scoff. "Really?! You didn't watch the movie?" you counter with a wily smile when he just gives you that innocent brown-eyed pout. "Seriously? You never saw American Gigolo? With Richard Gere?" you insist and press your hands over your knees so you can tilt forward as you comically balk at him.

"Uh…nope. Never got around to that one," Javi drawls and smirks when you flop back into the leather chair dramatically. Snickering as he maneuvers up on the bed in order to sit astride the edge and sneer teasingly at you, he taunts, "Oh, what – you wanted me to act out some striptease for you, guapita? I'm hardly gigolo material—"

"Hah!" you deridingly laugh and cross your bare legs as you get comfy in the chair and eye him daringly. "You lengüetero. As if you don't have the reputation of being the embassy gigolo!" you tease and naughtily instigate him with your pointed foot waving just out of his reach. "You're dressed so sharp today that it reminded me of the character, so I figured you could do his sexy strip for me, but, oh well—"

Javi reaches and snags your ankle with his cat-like reflexes, which makes your breath hitch out and excitement tingle in your core as he stands to loom over you, with your foot now captured in his warm grasp. He surprises you by kneading his thumbs into the aching tendons and massaging, which tears a delighted little sigh from you as you sink back into the leather chair.

"What happens in the movie?" Javier asks in that low register that has heat skittering across your nerve endings and want thrumming down into your pussy, getting you wet and making you squirm since you can't press your thighs together to ease the yearning he's caused. "Besides a lot of fucking?" is his crass purr.

"Richard Gere plays Julian Kay, a gigolo who escorts well-to-do older women around Beverly Hills, and one of them falls for him around the time he gets framed for murdering a wealthy man's wife," you tell him and watch his brows arch while he eases the tension in the plant of your foot. "The sex scenes are alright, but he just looks so handsome in his suits, and when he starts stripping out of them? It's quite memorable," is your flirty elaboration as you wiggle your toes cheekily.

"Well, as a wicked woman once said, I have gotten around," Javi grumbles sexily and purses his lips at you when you giggle. "I'm sure I can manage a decent striptease for you, malvadita, but I'm hardly Richard Gere—"

"Pfft, you're better than him," you declare with sincere confidence as you smile brilliantly up at him. "Better looking, with a sexier body," you enumerate and take advantage of his grip slackening on your foot to glide your pointed toes sensuously down his chest as you continue, "Smart, charming, and with a knack for always knowing what I need. He's got nothing on you…"

Javi husks a grunt in his chest as your touch teasingly skims down his torso until it pauses to trace the front of the waistband of his navy trousers. He's watching you with dark, smoldering eyes, lashes fluttering when his breath catches as your foot continues its descent by grazing over his hip and down thigh, where you feel his quads tense in exhilarated arousal.

Crossing your leg back over your knee seductively as you dampen your lips and stare up at him, you murmur, "Un papisongo tan guapo. But, it's alright – maybe you'll get the reward some other time, hermoso."

One thing Javi cannot abide is a naughty challenge, no matter how silly it might be. So, he gives you that ridiculously rugged stare and lets his lips soften as he starts slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your gaze is alluring as you watch his strong fingers pluck the buttons undone one by one, before pulling the hem loose from his trousers to then unbuckle his belt. The entire time he does so, his dark brewed eyes are honed in on yours. He feels arousal coil in his belly before tangling hot urge in his apex, and it takes him a moment to rein his impulses in as he slowly pulls the belt loose from his slacks to be tossed aside.

When he sheds his shirt, you uncross your legs and sit up, tempted to reach for his warm skin, but he smirks in a provocative way at you, as if to say, 'No touching. Not yet,' as he starts unfastening the button on his pants. The zipper giving way is the only sound over your soft breaths and the hum of the air-conditioning kicking on, and you swear you can hear your heart racing in your roaring pulse as you control your desire to just pounce on him already.

Shoving the waistband down and letting gravity pull the slacks to pool at his feet, Javier stands in just his white boxer-briefs now. You admire how his muscles flex from him winding his shoulders back as he stands confidently before you, and the outline of his length filling out against the soft cotton has your cunt clenching in anticipation.

You sit up when he smugly tilts his head and hums for you to let him know how he did. Sultrily, you stare at him up through your lashes as you lean forward and brush an open-mouth kiss over his abs while your hands map reverently up his hips to caress his torso. His breath hitches when you stand to brush up against him until you're on your tippy toes and can loop your arms around his shoulders.

"You've totally done that before," you tease, smirking when he scoffs and encircles your waist. With a coquettish trail of kisses that you skim along his jaw, you purr, "Tan bello," brush your lips over his, and add in a flirty lilt, "Well, a deal's a deal. You may claim your reward."

He grins and kisses you, groping his hand over a globe of your ass and squeezing before pivoting for you to sit on the bed so he can flop next to you and hastily kick his pants off his ankles and yank at his socks while you giggle and watch him hurry. Once unobstructed and happy to see you sit to allow him access to his prize, he glides himself across the bed to reach the nightstand and yank the drawer open.

The bottle of strawberry-flavored lube greets him, and the lewd delight that zings up his spine before shooting back down his body to throb in his cock has him feeling heat radiate across his cheeks. You enjoy watching his reaction, and when he turns over to stare at you, you're smiling angelically at him.

"Use it however I want?" he grouses in a velvety baritone as he takes it out of the drawer and sees there's plenty of product left for the kind of debauchery he has in mind.

"Yes," you retort serenely and lounge on your side before him.

"Hmm, so if I just wanted to squirt this all over you and lick you clean, you'd let me?" he husks audaciously and quirks a smug brow at you.

You scoff and hide your wily grin behind your hand as you snicker, "Is that really what you want to do?" Javi gives you a one-shouldered shrug and does that face when he twists his lips and crooks his jaw musingly. Wrinkling your nose cutely at him, you begin to drawl, "Alright, fine, if that's what you wanted, then—"

"I think I need time to think on it, so, while I do, strip for me, preciosa," he cuts in and lies back, toying with the bottle in his hands as he eyes you goadingly.

Shaking your head amusedly, you sit up and shift so you can face him on the bed as you reach behind yourself to unhook the bustier and brazenly toss it at him, chuckling when it lands on his chest and he pouts at you. His gaze appreciatively roves your bare breasts as you slink your panties down and off, tossing them aside so you can crawl over, fling the bustier away and prowl over his body to bossily kiss his full lips before you purr, "Make your decision yet, stud?"

Javi nods and chases your lips before pivoting you onto your back so he can box you in on the bed and kiss down your neck as he strips out of his underwear. You sigh at the warm press of your bodies – relishing the skin-to-skin contact and feeling yourself get tingly with arousal as he nudges to be between your welcoming thighs.

Before long, the heated making out gives way to Javi murmuring what he wants, and you blush, titillated and letting him maneuver you both into the position he wants to try first.

When he's got you on all fours at the edge of the bed while he looms over you, he watches you shiver as he glides his lube-coated fingers between the tight cleft of your ass to zero in on your clenching ring of muscle. You mewl a little sound of yearning after he hitches up behind you and ruts his cock along your pussy while he teases his touch along your hole, making you impulsively bow onto your elbows and seek more friction over your soaked cunt. Javier obliges, rubbing his length in time with your undulating backwards against him.

You moan when the head of his cock grinds against your clit just as he starts fingering your ass, and instinctively find yourself spreading your knees to angle your pelvis up for more, starting to pant and get needy.

The sight of you seeking more has savage delight burning up in his chest.

His cock throbs at feeling your pussy flood with a new wave of arousal, slickening him over as two if his dexterous digits delve in and out of your clenching heat while you gasp and chase that desperate orgasm he's stirring up in you.

He groans when you whimper and try to bury his cock into your pussy by slotting his tip to catch at your dimpled entrance.

"—Ah! Please-please—" you beg out and sob when he instead pulls back to curve his other hand between your thighs and grinds his possessive touch against your clit. It sets you aflame with the devastating pressure you need, and in a flash, your orgasm barrels through you.

You wail his name and come messily all over his cock while his fingers ease your ring of muscle to be ready enough for him to replace his digits with the thick stretch of his arousal.

"Such a good girl, coming for me like that. Now you're all relaxed for me to take my time," he coos whilst he dribbles some lube over his cock as he ruts it along the crevice of your ass. You mewl at his praise and tuck your chin against your shoulder so you can drunkenly look back at him with hooded eyes. "Fuck, you look so sexy, baby," Javi husks gruffly as he takes himself in his hand and coats the comingled slick and lube over the hard length before tentatively pressing the head of his cock against your puckering ring of muscle.

Your reaction when he starts to push in is something that makes a shudder shoot up his spine. The way your breathy panting became a throaty whimper of desire, and your back arched you down into the bed while you automatically reached a hand backwards to clutch at his forearm for support – it was enough to make pleasure pulse in his loins and his breath stutter in his chest. And the tight heat engulfing him inch by aching inch has him feeling lightheaded, so he forces himself to get control and focus on you.

The feeling of being utterly full makes you tremble, but when he pulls his hips back and then pushes back into you? Oh Jesus!

Pleasure bursts incandescently behind your eyes and has you moaning into the bed as you instinctively rock your hips back to meet his next thrust, then the next, and next until a gratifying rhythm is set. Javi groans when your hand slides down for purchase at his wrist as he holds onto you, half-mast gaze riveted at where his cock is disappearing into your tight ass while you mewl at the building heat of another orgasm swirling in the seat of your core.

"Oh god, Javi—I'm getting close," you whimper, sounding embarrassed, which snaps him back to focus on your voice as you hitch out, "So c-close—!"

Your voice cracks when he hunches over you to wrap you up in his arms as he nuzzles into your neck to rasp, "I got you, cariño. Want you to come, so you're gonna let me flip you over so I can make you feel good and watch your pussy come while I fuck this sexy ass."

You warble a breathless sound and nod vigorously, so Javier kisses you reassuringly before he adjusts to maneuver you over onto your back. He gets lost in your dreamy look of pleasure as he grips the backs of your thighs to keep you open to him. The way your eyes are glossy with lust, cheeks blushed and tits rising and falling from your shallow panting – how wet and flushed your pussy is while his cock is halfway in your ass. It overloads him for a minute, making him lean over to kiss you ravenously. Your mewl of hunger reverberates into him as his tongue tangles with yours, and your clumsy arms try to cling to him, but they're heavy with how blitzed out you are – rapt and needy as Javi breaks the kiss and dominantly pulls your hips up to adjust the cant of your pelvis for his next thrust in.

"Ah!" you cry out, hands gripping the bedding as his cock brushes into a new pleasure point that has your thighs trembling. His own hoarse growl catches in his chest as your body grips him greedily when you whimper, "Dios mío, Javi—mmph, please don't stop!"

He doesn't, and before long, you're whimpering sounds he's never gotten out of you before, and your eyes are screwing shut as tears of ecstasy well them and sweat beads at your temples. The sound of his cock squelching through the primed and tight vise of your body is as lascivious as the pleasure that coils in your belly and flares into your cunt. Javi can feel you getting more and more wound up, so he shifts your legs out so he can seat his thumb over the peak of your sex and grind the pad over the hood of your clit as he fucks in and out of you.

That's how you come apart the second time.

Your pussy clenches around nothing and floods with your climax as you go taut on your wail of his name before dissolving into little mewled sobs of rapture, utterly overwhelmed and gone from yourself. He watches you splinter under the riotous pleasure while his cock strains and swells at the stranglehold of your body clamping around him beseechingly.

Before Javi can grip the base of his cock and pull out – trying to keep his climax at bay – you make a luscious sound of need that blasts his control apart.

"Oh fuck—f-fuck! Ungth—" he grits out as he starts to come, mind hazing over as he involuntarily thrusts through his climax until he swears, "Jesus fucking Christ, oh shit-shit!" and regains his wits enough to pull his cock out and shoot the last of his cum over your womb and mound. "Holy fuck. I'm sorry. So sorry, baby—"

He doesn't realize he'd shut his eyes in the throes of his orgasm and hunched forward over you after shooting his load until your arms hook behind his shoulders and cling to him, tugging him close enough for you to blissfully kiss his sweaty neck.

Javi's knees give out just after he manages to collapse over you. The air whooshes out of him before his synapses string back together to yell at him, so he rolls onto his side and protectively pulling you with him to try and ease you into a comfortable position.

You both remain wrecked for an undefined period of time, until you let out a little sigh that inspires Javi to nuzzle the top of your mussed hair.

"Javi?" you mumble tiredly.

"Mmmph?" he grunts lazily.

"I really wish your place had a bathtub right now," you grumble breathlessly and huff into his neck.

Javier exhaustedly chuckles and holds you close so he can nuzzle doting kisses over your dreamily smiling, heated features.

Once you're both able to trust that your joints won't give out on you, he gets a damp washcloth and helps tend to the post-sex mess before helping you get to the bathroom for a hot, soothing shower. And once he's changed the comforter, he tucks you into bed and goes to shut all the lights off in the apartment before coming back and sliding in next to you. It's when he's settling onto his back that he hears the sound of a plastic cap being popped open before you sidle up and dribble the last of the flavored lube onto his chest.

He hisses at the cool substance hitting his still-warm skin. "Hah, what're you—"

"It's all that's left. It would be a shame to let it go to waste," you murmur sultrily and lean over to lick it off his heated, clean skin.

Javi hums and stretches out, focusing on the sensation of your tongue laving like wet velvet over him in the dark, instantly making him hard. "We're gonna have to get more," he huskily mumbles before inhaling in excitement when your tongue flicks teasingly over his nipple.

"Mmhmm," you hum silkily and hand him the empty bottle so he can set it aside on the nightstand for you. "Wonder if they have more flavors. Although…strawberry-flavored Javi is my current favorite," is your affectionate chime as you kiss along his chest to make sure you got all of it off.

Javi beams, stupid grin on his face as he wraps you up to be cuddled against him. Really, he's so content, he can't even think of a smug, charming thing to retort, so he just kisses your forehead and murmurs, "I love you."

You melt into him – eyes fluttering shut as he massages your lower back caringly. "I love you too," is your wistful sigh.

You're on cloud nine the next day at work – albeit sore. The morning is filled with meetings and status reports with your team, and by the time the afternoon comes around, you're already craving going up to see Javi, so you decide to rein the impulse in for at least another hour.

While you're setting another pot of coffee to brew as you talk to Ed from Centra Spike about the book you'd recommended to him, Javi is at his desk, impatiently digging through the clutter for the packet of nicotine gum he swears he left on it that morning, when his desk phone rings.

He picks it up from the cradle and props it between his shoulder and ear as he answers, "Peña."

"Agente Peña. It's Carolina Álvarez."

Javi internally frowns as he shoots a covert glance about the office, making sure no one's eavesdropping as he mutters in Spanish, "Yes, how can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to call you out of the blue, but I am still looking into leads for my article, and well, with all the recent political strife between the embassy and the Samper government—"

Miffed, Javier looks at his watch as he interrupts, "I have some time this afternoon. Meet at that café to discuss further?"

She seems to get his meaning loud and clear – that he's not going to discuss this over the phone with her. So, she agrees to meet him in an hour. When he hangs up the phone, he stews, not interested in giving a statement, but then the idea that perhaps he can use the reporter to help him look into new leads intrigues him when he looks at the stack of bank statements he'd gotten from the Curaçao arrest. Without Franklin, he'd hit a wall on ways to track the financials, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to pass a copy of those over.

He's just finished making said copies and is in the process of grabbing his blazer, and is in the middle of shrugging it on, when a knock at his sidelight startles him. You're standing there with a cup of coffee in hand, looking lovely in your purple nested jacket and skirt combo with the black heels that make your shapely legs look divine.

"Bad time?" you ask when you see the surprise on his face.

Waving you in, he pockets his belongings and picks up the folder from his desk. "Something came up. I have to go off-site for a quick meeting," he says as he rounds his desk and takes the cup from you, smiling before sipping from it. "Mmm, thanks. We still going home to your place tonight?" he murmurs as he leans onto his desk and trains his expression to not give away to any possible onlookers how fucking besotted he is with you.

"Yeah," you answer, but seem pensive, so Javi prompts you with a grunt to go on. "Well, Ellis just told me he got the job in San Juan," is your elaboration, and in your wound up energy, you meander towards his sofa while he frowns and puts everything on the desk so he can cross his arms and thwart the impulse to breeze over and pull you into his embrace. "I told him that to celebrate, I'd make a lasagna and bring it over tomorrow…would you want to go with me? He said we could do a whole movie night out of it too."

"Sure," he answers warmly, and when he sees you nod contemplatively, he exhales a hum and murmurs, "Meet me in the stairwell."

You turn and look at him, confused, but his eyes are assertive, so you nod and head out of his office, loping by Stoddard's empty desk to traverse the DEA department and enter the outer hall. You stroll through the foyer facing the elevators and half-pace staircase, rounding the opposite corner to open the emergency stairwell door and walk down to the secluded landing. After a few minutes, the door opens, and Javi descends the steps quickly towards you. Once on the landing, he pulls you into his arms and hugs you.

It startles you, but then your arms loop around him and you lean gratefully into his embrace, relishing his warm scent.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid—" you begin to lament.

"No, you're not," he assures and kisses the top of your hairline sweetly. "After work, we'll go shopping for everything so you can make the lasagna early tomorrow. That way we can go over and spend the day with them," is his thoughtful suggestion. You lean back to smile up at him, so he adds debonairly, "But tonight? It's takeout, and a date in the bath."

Snickering, you lean up on your tippy toes and kiss him chastely on the lips. "Sounds like a plan, boss man," you retort affectionately.

After he caresses your cheek, you both kiss goodbye and part ways in the stairwell, and while you go down to discuss short-term department plans with Ellis, Javier goes to meet the reporter from El Tiempo. She's sitting in a secluded corner of the café, already stirring her cappuccino and looking elegantly appointed as she scribbles reminders into her little planner. He approaches and greets her, sitting across from her and declining getting a coffee, opting instead to light up a cigarette to take the edge off.

"—I was hoping you could provide me a statement? If not, perhaps, something new on the cartel's dealings that you're willing to share?" she's coaxing now before sipping the espresso drink and wiping the foam from her upper lip.

Pressing his lips together as he glances around tersely, Javi produces the folder with the copies of the bank statements and places it on the table. "Those are financial statements we got when we arrested Franklin Jurado. Now that he's dead, the trail for leads has gone cold, and my attention is on locating Miguel Rodríguez, but without getting some kind of link to the cartel – someone who can testify to their financial dealings in some way, we're going to have a hard time keeping him and his brother in jail even if we catch him," he explains in a hushed tone to her as he smokes, exhaling sidelong puff as he rubs absently at his stubbly jaw. "I can't be on the record right now, but could you use those for your investigation? I'd be grateful for any information you could share my way."

She flips the folder carefully open and peers over some of the statements as she answers, "Absolutely. I'll look into it, and be in touch once we find anything."

Javi grunts and nurses his cigarette while they chat a bit more, specifically about the resistance he's gotten from the Samper government recently. She wonders out loud if perhaps there's a fuente taking information back to the Cartel, but Javi says nothing, deciding to keep that to himself, for now.

By the time it's the end of the day and you both have run the errands needed, you have dinner at your place and take a long soak in your bathtub together.

Enjoying the warm soapy water, you listen as Javier recounts his day of meeting with his agents over Cali. He doesn't tell you about meeting with the reporter. Since it wasn't something he saw panning out to anything, he decides there's no point telling you, since you'll fret about him opening himself up to blowback, so he instead keeps it in the back of his mind while you tell him about the tentative plans you'd discussed with Ellis about transitioning work, his official last day, and how you'd booked an appointment first thing with the ambassador to give him the official news once he was back in-country.

By the time you're both in your bedroom getting ready to slide under the covers to sleep, he wonders how he and his guys are going to manage to nail the cartel and keep them in prison where they belong. You sense the ruminating brooding up in him, so once you shut off the light, you reach for him in the dim and kiss his cheek. His exhale is heavy and relieved, so he pulls you close and kisses down your neck after he rolls to be on top of you. He feels the silk of your nighty ride up when you wrap your legs around him, and before long, you're making love, sensual and slow, as you get lost in the feeling together.

After, when he's spooning you and nuzzling kisses into the back of your neck, you buzz with the content serenity of being like this with him. Feeling safe and loved, with so much to look forward to.

The next morning, Javi helps you with all the prep, and has you gleefully pining while he not so begrudgingly feeds the cat when she scratches at the balcony doors. And while you're stirring the sauce, he's organizing the clutter of spent items from the groceries bought for the lasagna when he notices your little calendar hung up against the wall above the ceramic napkin holder.

"Shit! I can't believe I almost forgot," he swears as he rushes to get his phone from the coffee table. You turn to peer curiously at him as he dials a number and then rushes out to stand at the balcony while the line rings. The black cat circles his jean-clad legs before head-butting just above his ankle while Javi idly scratches the back of his hair, causing his gray college shirt to pull taught against his broad back. "Hey, Pops! Happy Birthday. Sorry I didn't call earlier—"

You smile as you cover the pot and mischievously tiptoe to the other side of the kitchen island so you can feign you're wiping down the counter while you eavesdrop.

"Nah, don't worry about that, mijo. You caught me as I was about to head to your tía's. It's great to hear from you. Things all right there?" Chucho retorts and inquires jovially.

"Yeah, really good," Javi responds and spares a glance over his shoulder, noticing you're humming and flouncing back around the kitchen island in your billowy flower-patterned housedress. "I won't keep you. I just wanted to call and wish you a Feliz Cumpleaños—"

"Ah, you rushing off the phone because a certain future nuera of mine is nearby, then?" his father can't help goad in that raspy baritone of his. Javi snickers and shakes his head as he turns to see the cat has given up on him and is following you around the living room as you pick up after him – grabbing the wrapper of his gum packet and the junk he'd fished out of his blazer pockets from the night before to toss it all in the trash. "You're gonna have to bring her home so I can meet her someday soon, sabes?"

"Yeah, I know. Maybe sometime soon," he responds smoothly in Spanish, smirking at you when you return to the couch and catch him staring. "Anyway, Happy Birthday, Pops. Send everyone my love. Tell 'em I actually miss them," Javier chuckles and quirks a brow when you squint goofily at him before plopping down on the sofa, allowing the cat to hop up and sidle against your thigh to seek pets. Once he ends the call and comes back into the living space to place the phone on the coffee table, he drops into the seat next to you and crinkles his soulful eyes at you as he drawls, "What? What's with the face?"

You purse your lips faux-haughtily at him and busy yourself by petting the cat languidly purring against your thigh. "I would've liked to say hello to your dad and wish him a happy birthday too, is all," you say pointedly, submerging your smile when he dramatically exhales and puts his arm around you to tug you close so he can nuzzle puckish kisses into your neck. You giggle at his moustache tickling you and nudge your elbow into his side to push him off as you deride, "Ay, Javi—quit it. When I talk to 'Buela, I let you get on and say hello—"

"Alright, fine – next time I call him, I'll let you two chat and conspire against me," he jokes, tone charmed and rugged as he actually scratches the cat affectionately behind her ear with his index finger. She looks up in awe of the rare gesture, and immediately clambers up on his lap and meows for more. "Ugh, no. C'mon," he grumbles when she puts her front paws up on his chest and mewls, giving him the big green eyes. You grin when he relents and pets her, and appeased, the feline curls up against him. "This is not the gatita I want on my lap right now—"

"Oh, hush, malcriado," you tease, kissing his cheek before bounding up off the couch to return to the kitchen. As you check the items on the stove, you call over your shoulder amusedly, "No use keeping the grumpy façade up now. She's sweet on you, and you like the attention—"

"Yeah right," he drawls just to be contrarian, petting the cat once more when he thinks you're not looking.

It's the cutest thing, and you're tempted to go retrieve the camera, but know he will move the moment he sees you lift it up in order to snap the incriminating photo.

Hours later, when the lasagna is ready and has cooled enough to be transported, you and Javi show up at Ellis and Anita's. The four of you spend the afternoon hanging out together over snack offerings and drinks. In solidarity with Anita not being able to drink, though, you limit yourself to a two-drink maximum, while Javi and Ellis kick into a whiskey tasting stash he'd gotten gifted to him by his in-laws. You love that Javier feels comfortable enough to indulge and unwind, enjoying his contributions to the fun conversations, how he cracks jokes, and the amiable warmth he has with your friends. Eventually, you all sit around the dining table to partake in the first serving of the delicious specialty you made, and afterwards, you all move to the living room to lounge and chat in the post-meal lethargy while you sip your drinks and Anita partakes in the fruit-filled chocolates you gifted her.

"—Aww, that sounds like a really fun wedding," Anita is remarking after you mention all the highlights from your cousin's nuptials, snickering when Ellis steals a chocolate from the box and eats it with gusto. She's about to inquire something, but seems to change her mind last minute, so you grunt for her not to censor herself and ask before you sip from your glass of wine while leaning sidelong into Javi when he drapes his arm along the back of the loveseat. "Well, I was curious if your father went to the wedding?"

"Nope," you retort, idly swirling the Chianti about in the glass as you elaborate aloofly, "Supposedly he's traveling overseas; underway. But, he sent them a registry certificate as a wedding gift. Typical gesture: showering gifts when he doesn't want to bother to show up."

Javier spares a glance at Ellis, and they seem to communicate the same warning to each other: Change the subject.

"So! What're we in the mood to watch genre-wise? Anyone up for a scary movie?" Ellis animatedly proposes before heading to his collection of VHS tapes to peruse for options. "Obviously nothing too scary though. Don't want to have you girls clinging to us in suspense—"

"Hah! You cower into Anita when you get freaked, so don't even play, Rose," you heckle as you slip your flats off and set your glass on the side table so you can curl up against Javi while he chuckles at Ellis glowering indignantly at you. "You do, so pick something that won't give you the willies."

Once Ellis picks a movie and gets it going, Anita shuts the lights off and cuddles with him on the opposite couch while Javi stretches out his long jean-clad legs and crosses them at the ankles. He loves how nice and cozy you get against him, and can't help brush a kiss to the back of your ear that makes you smile and shift to loop your arms around him so you can rest your head on his shoulder. His cotton indigo button-down smells of his warm, spicy scent, made of a mixture of his cologne, soap, and the natural manly heat of his skin – hints of whiskey and the classic-clean whiff of his hair making you internally swoon as you nose into his collar.

Your frond-green batik floral baby doll dress feels soft against his hand as he caresses his palm along your lower back while he breathes in your perfumed scent. As the coming attractions play, he relishes how your lips brush his neck, and once the movie's opening scene progresses, he feels savage pride at how you hold onto him. The suspense thriller has you all riveted, but when a particular jump-scare occurs, you literally jolt from the fright so much that you practically end up in Javi's lap.

He holds fast to your waist and doesn't let you scamper away in embarrassment – instead pulling your legs to be tucked up so your feet are planted into the cushion by his thigh and you can loop your arms around his neck while he cradles you against him with his large hands gliding from hip to thigh, and from shoulder to lower back. Ellis is too busy cuddling Anita after she squeaked in surprise at the same scare, and you take the moment in the dark to look into Javi's brewed-coffee eyes and give him a lopsided, demure smile.

His smirk is handsome and utterly endeared as he kisses you on the temple and whispers puckishly, "You're cute when you're bashful."

You snicker and kiss his jaw, mischievously wiggling your derrière in his lap. His intake of breath and the way his hands tighten warningly on you makes you hum innocently and curl against him to focus back on the movie.

After the movie's credits roll and Anita turns the light back on, you all decide to have another helping of lasagna before deciding on the next movie.

"—What about a suspense thriller?" Ellis calls out from the cabinet he keeps his movie collection as he shuffles a stack of movie tapes before holding one up and whistling, "Something spicy, like this one?"

You see the cover of the movie's sleeve. "Oh! I haven't seen that in ages," you retort and glance at Javi when he hums as if he doesn't recognize it. "Oh c'mon – you've never seen Body Heat either?" is your deriding jeer, giving him a mischievous grin when he purses his lips warningly at you. Feigning aloofness, you prop your elbow on the table and cup your cheek as you wistfully drawl to Anita, "When that came out, I watched it so many times. I was transfixed by Kathleen Turner. I thought she was the epitome of the sultry, powerful woman—"

"She's twisted though!" Ellis calls out in a singsong as he keeps shuffling through his collection. "You telling us Javi better watch his step with you?" is his sarcastic jeer.

Javier is totally clueless, devoid of any references to the film as you scoff at Ellis and snicker, "Not that kind of watching his step! No, I only wanted to emulate her poise and haughty self-assurance," pausing when Javi smirks at you. "I even got that dress – the one she wears at the beginning. I felt so good. Really thought I was hot stuff—"

"You are," Javi murmurs and gives you a smoldering look. At your demure scoff, he squeezes your thigh playfully as he adds, "We might need to watch that one on our own. Especially if I gotta take it as a cautionary tale—"

"Real funny," you wryly razz and pinch his wrist before you slink out of your chair to start helping Anita clear the table. "I'll defer to whatever Anita wants to watch," is your amiable remark.

"Can we watch something romantic this time?" Anita asks and gives her silly beseeching pout over at Ellis when he goofily grins at her. "Something silly-romantic? Like Pretty Woman?" she suggests, as she takes the empty plates to place them in the sink.

You perk up at that, and announce, "Oh! You just reminded me: Can you believe Javi's never seen American Gigolo?" When he huffs wryly and quirks a goading brow at you as he leans back in the chair and crosses his arms bossily, you chime, "I mean, Richard Gere's in Pretty Woman, which is why I'm even mentioning it—"

"You really haven't, Jav?" Ellis asks after setting the stack of tapes back into the cabinet in order to go to the buffet to retrieve the latest bottle of whiskey and tops Javier's glass off before pouring a bit into his own. "We can watch it after, if you want."

The spritely smile you give Javi as you bat your lashes at him from the other side of the table as you push the chairs in dutifully has heat pooling in his gut at the unspoken reminder you're communicating with the sultry wink you shoot his way now. He can hear your scintillating purr from the other night: "He's got nothing on you…"

After you all watch the improbable, almost farcical tale of a hooker and her john falling in love, Ellis puts in the VHS for the seminal movie you believe fueled your little crush on Richard Gere. But as you watch, you find yourself ignoring the screen to instead sneak peeks at Javi, who watches it with interest. Really, he's riveted because he's feeling a wave of nostalgia. He remembers going into record shops and flitting around like he hadn't a real care in the world. It reminded him of his youth, of how much he'd cared about his appearance, his car, how he and his buddies went out on the town every Friday night. Sure, it was in no way similar to the expensive lifestyle, locations, suits and swagger of this Julian Kay character, but still. He found himself wondering if you'd had guys like him trying to pick you up. Sasha was far more dapper and elegant, and you in no way would've ever needed a gigolo to be at your beck and call, but he imagined you turned heads everywhere you went – fantasizes how he would've reacted back then had he been at a club and seen you walk through it in one of those slinky sequin dresses and platform heels.

When the movie got to the main sex scene, he snorted at how goofy it looked, and you derisively leaned into his side, amused when he looks at you and mouths, 'Christ, that's fucking awful. Literally.'

You stifle your giggle into his shoulder. But after the scene concludes with the actor's full-frontal nudity – which you had not mentioned prior, Javi makes you guffaw when he blurts out, "His whole dick is out? Seriously?"

"I know, right?! Like, who stands by a window after sex and lets it all hang out like that?" Ellis seconds, and you and Anita burst into laughter, finding this impromptu consensus on the implausibility of a dude posing naked the way Richard Gere is the funniest thing of the night.

Once the movie concludes, Ellis turns the lights back on and tops Javier's glass off while you all joke about the movie some more, delighting in how Javier insists the ending was totally stupid. "—No way he would've gotten off for killing the pimp," he grouses and shakes his head while you laugh. "I can't believe you raved about that movie," he teases you and pinches your waist playfully while you scoff and roll your eyes. "She owes us a movie night do-over after that—"

"Hah, is that a fact?" you razz, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table so you can sidle up and tug on his collar impishly as you blurt, "Then you'll have to pick the flick for when we host one once we've moved in together."

Javier quirks his brows gloatingly and smirks when you sheepishly tense at Anita exclaiming, "You guys are looking?"

Ellis seconds, "Way to bury the lead! Any apartment prospects?"

You blush and end up telling them about the places you'd toured so far. While you do so, Javier drinks and volunteers commentary good-naturedly, enjoying how you get more and more open as you tell your friends about your shared plans.

You get so engrossed that you don't notice how Ellis and Javier keep topping each other's glasses off while you and Anita prattle on about the apartment amenities, and the conversation veers to the house-hunting she and Ellis are already doing – how they're looking at places within the metropolitan area of San Juan. She leads you to the dining table so she can break out the prospects she already got, and shows you some of the listings after you offer to give your local P.O.V. on the best areas to consider.

When you both come back to rejoin the guys, you're remarking, "—Oh, I can ask some friends back home for a connection at that private school to see if they're hiring," and pause when you see how toasty Javi looks now while Ellis is pouring him a double.

"So, kid, what's the likelihood we'll be dropping two major bombs on Crosby at the same time, then?" Ellis jokes as he bounces his brows over at you when you sit with Javi and squeak cutely at him encircling your waist to pin you to his side puckishly.

"Well, we're looking at a place this coming week. If it's as good as the realtor said, we might have to move on it quick…which would mean putting in for the housing placement," you remark and glance at Javi, feeling a little rush of excitement when he unabashedly smiles at you so broadly that his boyish dimple is revealed. "What?" is your silly snicker.

His brown eyes are dark and molten, crinkling sweetly as he eyes you under hooded lids and drawls in a canela-spiced rumble, "I'm just picturing how cute you're gonna look while Crosby blows his stack."

You scoff and swat Javi's thigh, shaking your head sardonically when Ellis gripes, "Shit, you think so?"

"I'd put money on it. S'why I think we'll wait to tell him together," Javier muses, and you melt when he caresses his thumb along the contour of your hip. He then turns to rumble conspiratorially to you, but still loud enough for Anita and Ellis to hear, "Can't crush the ambassador's heart twice in one day."

His lips are too close and inviting for you to pass up kissing them, so you do, even though you're not one for public displays. You made exceptions for canoodling under the cover of darkness whilst watching the movies, but now find yourself pining as he attempts to deepen the kiss.

"Hm, alright. I think it's time for us to head out," you declare when you break the kiss and Javi chases your lips to continue making out without a qualm about it. Coquettishly, you huff an amused sound and mutter, "C'mon, guapito—"

"Awww, you're blushing, girlie!" Ellis teases, and Anita bops him with a throw pillow while Javier loops his arms around your waist now to pull you cheekily into him and retaliate by suckling kisses into your neck in front of everybody.

"Quit it! You're gonna make Anita nauseous," you giggle, playfully carding your fingers in his hair and squeeze the back of his shoulder with your other hand.

"Only random smells are making me nauseous, so don't stop on my account," Anita can't help goad.

"You're all incorrigible!" you chide humorously and comically nudge Javier from continuing to lay on the PDA thick, snickering as he squeezes your knee defiantly and yanks you to sit on his lap, "Alright, it's definitely about that time—"

"Ah, before you head out, girlie, let's have a toast," Ellis boisterously chimes, grinning when Javi dutifully finishes his latest gulp and squints goofily as your buddy pours another double while he drawls, "One for the road."

Javier chuckles and winks at you with a charming, rosy cheeked expression of contentment as he drawls, "To good friends and new exciting horizons," raising his glass once you've sardonically smirked and picked up your wine to toast.

When you all clink your glasses and sip, your gaze locks with Javi's, and you feel your heart skip a beat as he looks at you with open desire.

Needless to say, you are eager to get him home, so once you're saying your farewells at their door, you and Anita exchange knowing looks, silently communicating, 'These two drunk fools are trouble,' before you hug and loop your arms around Javi's right one and lead him down the walkway out to the car.

He is drunk and happy, grunting wryly as you tow him to the passenger's side of his SUV before you purr, "Dame la llave."

With a smiley leer, he digs into his pocket and produces his keychain, handing it over and pulling you close before you open the door for him so he can croon richly, "You're so fucking sexy when you boss me around."

Humming sultrily, you lilt, "And you're a cute flirt when you're drunk—"

"I'm not drunk," he counters as he opens the door and gets in the passenger seat, clucks his tongue, and drawls, "I'm trashed."

You laugh, a soft, melodious timbre that warms his blood and has the heat of his desire zinging into his apex before flaring out in a wanton urge that leaves him swooning. All he can do is put his seatbelt on clumsily and smile dopily at you once you round the car and get into the driver's side to quickly shift the seat forward so you can reach the pedals and adjust the mirror before putting your seatbelt on and starting the car.

"I fucking love you," Javi blurts out in a velvety baritone, rubbing his palm across his jaw with a punch-drunk exhale, grin a bit meek as you look over at him fondly, albeit with a silly smile. "You know that, right?" is his husky whisper as he moves his palm from absently scrubbing his cheek to instead cup yours reverently.

"Yes, you dork," you simper sweetly before leaning over and pecking him on his full, pouty lips. "I love you too. Even though you're a slutty drunk—"

"Oh, I fucking am, for you," he cuts in artfully and steals a few more kisses before growling, "I wanna be your fucking slut tonight—"

"Javier!" you exclaim with shocked delight before laughing when he daringly nuzzles your neck and whines a goofy sound. "I can't take advantage of such a sloshed stud. As a matter of fact? We're going to spend the night at your place since it's closer," you affectionately tut as you gently nudge him to lean heavily back into his seat. He protests lamely, so you caress your touch over his forehead. "We'll take a quick shower, and then I'll tuck you into bed, mi cariñito."

Javi's eyes lull shut and he hums a drowsily content sound at that, so you pat his thigh before putting the car in gear and driving off.

Ten-minute drive later, and you're parking in his spot in the garage, smiling when he dutifully shakes his lethargy clear enough to unbuckle his seatbelt. You hop out of the car and swiftly round to his door to open it and make sure he doesn't stumble out. "C'mon, cutie," you coo, eyes cresting with mirth as he scoffs at you and takes your hand.

Once out of the car, you lock it and delight in how he lets you lead him to the elevator, with his arm covetously around you as he scrubs the heel of his hand along his brow. You dotingly let him lean into you when you ride up to the floor his apartment is on, arms looped around his waist holding him close. You can tell the liquor is really hitting him now, because he's giving you a dreamy look, like he's marinating on a litany of things to say but is too buzzed to settle on one thing. But then he buries a hand in the back of your hair and murmurs suddenly, "You wanna come to Laredo and meet my Pops sometime?"

Cracking an endeared smile, you stare up at him through your lashes while he gives you a heavy-lidded leer. "I would love to," is your charmed retort, lighthearted as you pull him along once the elevator dings its arrival and the doors slide open. "Does he know about me?" you ask conversationally as you lope down the hall with him to the door – one arm around his waist while you dig your other hand in your purse for the apartment keys.

"Of course he does," Javier grumbles, frowning as he grouses, "You think I would've never told him—?"

You get the door unlocked and serenely take his hands and lead him in as you backpedal through the threshold. "I wasn't really sure, chulito," you tell him honestly as you shut the door and set your purse and keys aside on the credenza before giving him a lopsided smirk when he huffs a surly grunt. "You know, when you're all grouchy, your nostrils flare out all cutely—" you begin to jibe warmly, but Javi lassos his forearm around you and swings you up against him, which makes you squeal and admonish in a falsetto, "Ah, bad boy!"

He barks a hearty laugh and manages to whisk you up into his arms to march in a slightly zigzag pattern down to the bedroom, bumping into the doorframe and swaying with you towards the bed while you giggle effervescently and hold on for dear life.

Flopping onto the bed with him, you roll to pin him down and shower affectionate kisses over his heated features and neck before hissing goofily, "Now, you're gonna be a good boy, strip, and come shower with me, aren't yah."

His cheeks flush, but he nods and licks his lips. "Yeah, I am," he rumbles, hands fondling your curves possessively as he mumbles, "Wanna be good for you, gatita."

You smile and brush a kiss over his lips before slinking up and stripping out of your clothes, then undressing him while he lays sprawled out, gazing up at you.

Even drunk, Javier is a man of his word. He behaves while you divest him of his clothes and boots, watches as you pull your hair up into a bun, then takes your hand and follows you to the bathroom where you run the shower and get under the warm water with him. Once you've massaged the suds completely out of his hair for him and rinsed the soap from his shoulders, you step out of the stall first and wrap a towel around yourself before drying him, tucking the towel around his waist, and sitting him down on the toilet after you lowered the lid for him so you can dry his hair while he sighs and holds onto you with his arms looped around your waist.

"Mm, alright, bebito. Let's go to bed," you murmur silkily as you slip the towel to slouch behind his broad shoulders so you can cup his face in your hands. He gives you the most smitten look, eyes dark and warm, flaring an earthy chestnut under the ceiling light, and you feel so weak for him – breath stolen by the molten flutter in your core. And then he tugs you onto his lap, so you scoff and chidingly scrub the towel you used to dry his dense locks over his head and drag the wet material over his face cheekily before tossing it with a laugh when he grunts in complaint. "And you were being such a good boy," is your admonishing tut as you shift from his lap. But then he gives you the most genuinely needy frown, eyes soft and brows furrowing pleadingly. So, you decide to reward him for being so irresistibly sweet.

Javier watches as you step back from the circle of his arms and drop your towel to stand in your dewy glory before him, skin glistening under the warm light. His eyes go from drunken gloss to lustfully scintillating as he leans forward to nuzzle his face into your sternum. "Mi reina amada," he croaks as he embraces you and rests his forehead to the valley of your breasts. You shiver, aching want tingling down between your thighs for him. Your clean, warm skin has Javi getting hot with need. "Can I kiss your pussy?" is his husky petition.

You exhale an excited little huff, staring down at his hungry expression and seeing the pronounced bulge of his arousal tenting the towel wrapped around his hips. "First thing's first, hermoso," you susurrate and guide him to stand and follow you back to the bedroom, where you tug the thick terrycloth material from his trim waist and lovingly pull the covers back before steering him to lay naked on the bed. Javier protests when you don't climb immediately in too, so you lean over him and kiss his pillowy lips, and assure, "I'm going to get you some water and turn the lights off, so I'll be right back, bebito."

With a surly grunt, he nods and stretches out, resting his head on the pillow as he idly scratches the stubble of his cheek. You find drunk Javi to be the cutest thing, so you quickly hang up the towels, retrieve the glass of water from the kitchen and shut all the nights off before returning to place the glass at his nightstand and finding him with his eyes closed and his hands folded over his midriff. You take the opportunity to just gaze at him, admiring his broad frame in its nude glory. His muscles are relaxed, erection thick and straining towards his left hip – legs askew while his belly is taut and his chest is rising and falling from his deep breathing. He looks like a divine sin.

Biting your lip, you go to grab the covers to tuck him in, when he mumbles, "Not asleep. Just resting my eyes."

"You overdid it, papisongo. Just go to sleep," you snicker and climb into bed next to him to attempt appeasing him with your closeness while covertly inching the covers over, but he kicks at them with a sulky grunt. "Javier," is your admonishing giggle. He cracks his eyes open then and lulls his head towards you before he heavily rolls onto his side to manhandle you under him. "Mmm, Javi, you're being a bad boy—"

"Please let me kiss your pussy?" he interrupts, beckoningly kissing along your cheek, down your neck and shoulder while you caress his sides and sigh at the feeling of his warm skin pressed against yours. "Wanna make you come with my mouth so bad—"

"You're liable to fall asleep in the middle of it," you joke airily and kiss his cheek before you pivot to roll him back onto the bed. When he protests with a gruff grumbly huff, you purr, "Malcriado. Behave right now, or I'm going to punish you."

A shiver goes up his spine. Javi grunts appealingly, hands groping to pull you over to lie on top of him. "Punish me by sitting on my face," he petitions, and you gasp at his shamelessness. His cock presses beseechingly against you when you wiggle to maneuver over him, and the way he whines pleadingly while your hands clutch at his pectorals sends a thrill into the seat of your womb, making you drench over with arousal for him.

The needy, wanton way he's staring up at you makes you realize he wants to be dominated, and you decide to see just how far gone with the drunkenly uninhibited desire he is by husking in a smoky murmur, "Ah. Look at you – so pussy-hungry. Is my big, strapping stud just a hard-up slut? Wanting to be treated like the needy, slutty thing you really are?"

Javier moans and nods, blush searing along his cheeks and up to his ears while radiating across his chest. "I'm a dirty fucking slut, mi reina," he throatily whimpers and lights up when you straddle him so you're sitting on his thighs in order to rake your nails lightly down his chest and stomach to the base of his cock. "Fuck, baby—"

"You're not a dirty fucking slut. You, are my filthy fucking slut," you correct imperiously as you wrap your hands around his throbbing cock and give it a squeeze. "Isn't that right, you puto beyako?"

The way Javier reacts has a wave of need thrumming from your core, clit throbbing when he husks a hoarse whimper from deep in his chest and clutches at your thighs while he moans, "Yes! I'm your filthy fucking slut, mi patrona."

"Mmm, yes, you are. Eres todo mío," you alluringly coo at him as you start stroking him with one hand and curve the other to give him a show – rubbing your clit and dipping your fingers into your drenched cunt. Javi groans a yearning sound, eyes riveted on your fingers plunging in and out of your slickened center before you pull them out with a lewd, slick sound and lean forward to trace the sullied digits along his lips. His feral growl as he sucks your fingers into his mouth makes your pussy clench, and the delight it stokes in you is addictive, so you swivel your thumb over his weeping tip and press it over the slit as you lilt, "This is the only taste of my pussy you're gonna get, sweet boy. You're too spoiled—"

His cock twitches in your grasp and his stomach tenses with excitement as an exhilarated huff catches in his chest when you retract your fingers from his mouth and cup his jaw to stop him from bucking up. His lust-glazed eyes clear enough for him to breathily hold your gaze as he repeats obediently, "I'm fucking spoiled."

"Yes, you are. So, this sinful mouth of yours isn't getting any more pussy," you chastise provocatively, and the genuine distress you see cross his wrecked features makes you soften as you lean forward and caress his cheek while you shift to straddle his crotch, lining his cock up to part your folds. "Aww, I only meant for tonight, bello. Don't worry," you soothe and kiss his lips tenderly, smiling when he exhales with palpable relief and pulls you close. "You got me so turned on. I've been tingling all night, you know that?" you purr and kiss him, loving how he groans with pride. "Only you have this effect on me. You know that, right, mi rey?" is your sultry murmur as you rub your pussy over him so he can feel how warm and wet you are.

He can only nod vigorously in the affirmative because you're stealing his breath with how your silken pussy slots him with tortuously slow undulations to press inch by inch into your addictive heat. When he's buried to the hilt in you, though, and you start to clench your floor muscles around him, Javi hitches out in a flustered grovel, "Querida—"

"I know, sweet boy. Don't hold back. I want you to feel good," you assure as you squeeze and grind around his throbbing cock while rutting down on him in a scintillating way that has you aching, but nowhere near how close to the edge Javier is.

He tosses his head back in frustration with himself as he grips your hips and starts bucking up into you, chasing his pleasure – teeth bared as he grits his jaw and his brow furrows in concentration while his eyes screw shut from the onslaught of pent-up need flaring out in impending release.

The sight of him like this is decadence, and knowing you're the cause has you beaming with delight as you brace a hand to his chest for balance while the other rubs your clit in time with how Javi's barreling up into you now.

"Oh fuck-fuck-fuck-fuuuuck—!" Javier's swearing with rapturous need as he pounds up into you and feels your walls rippling around his swelling cock, and when he opens his eyes and sees you bouncing above him with your mouth fallen open on a cry of luscious pleasure, fingers grinding over your clit, he's seared through with ecstasy at the sight, warning on a gruff groan, "I'm gonna come—gonna come!"

You're alight with how he's swept you up so tempestuously in the throes of carnal need, having not expected to get there with him. But the sound of his voice breaking under the ruinous havoc of watching you ride his cock is a shattering aphrodisiac that pushes you over the edge to wail in shocked ecstasy as you climax. It coincides with Javi losing himself to the haze of pleasure as he grips your ass and hammers his orgasm up into you after his balls pull up and tight, filling you with shudder after shudder of his release while your pussy ripples and clamps down around his cock. Your sheath contracts, slotting him deep into that devastating part of you that trembles with accomplishment at being claimed by him so completely as the warm bloom of his seed diffuses through your core. It's euphoric, toe-curling bliss, leaving you ravished and fawning.

"Oh Javi," you sigh out in spent elation as you come down from the high and gaze rapturously at him before curling down to cuddle him lovingly. He is dazed and smiley, arms clumsily embracing you as you caress his damp hair and kiss on him. "That was amazing," is your wistful exaltation after you nuzzle the spot under his jaw and relax heavily against his chest.

He just beams, melting under you into sated exhaustion, so you force yourself to shift off of him and roll onto your back so you can cool down and enjoy the tranquil calm that ebbs up in you. The tingle in your tummy has you sighing wistfully as you press your thighs together and continue to relax in the post-bliss afterglow, soothed by his warm, masculine scent and presence.

By the time you're able to move again, Javier is snoring, so you pull the covers over you both and smile when he rolls onto his side in his sleep and instinctively spoons you.

You wake up still in his arms the next morning, and you smile to yourself, content to lie there like this with him forever.

"Mmmph," Javier slurs in his sleep before nuzzling the back of your neck when he starts to stir.

You smile and cup your hand to the back of his head so you can comb your fingers through his hair soothingly. "You feeling ok, chulito?" you murmur before shifting to peer at him over your shoulder.

"…my head's spinning," he admits in a hoarse deadpan, so you roll over and watch him rub at his temples. "Jesus Christ…did I beg to kiss your pussy?"

You laugh, and he groans as he labors to roll onto his back with a grunt. "You did a lot more than just beg for that, tough guy," you tease, kissing his cheek before you climb out of bed. "I'll get you something to stave off the headache," is your remark as you grab your robe and slink into it.

After he's downed the pills and two glasses of water, you make him some tea for the nausea, of which he sips sourly while you pack some of your clothes to take to your place in order to bring a new archive of outfits back with you later. By the time you're both in the shower, Javier's feeling a bit better, and at your suggestion of getting breakfast at the café, he's eager to oblige. He skips shaving and just brushes his teeth while you put on moisturizer and comb your hair out in front of the vanity mirror with him, catching his sexy glances in the reflection.

"What're you leering at, chavón," you snicker as he pats his face dry and hangs up the towel.

"I'm getting flashbacks of last night. You standing over me all naked and wet…" he purrs as he turns and crowds in behind you to guide you out to the bedroom, pressing his towel-clad hips into your robe-covered ass as he growls in your ear, "How I'm your filthy fucking slut."

"Yeah, you are," you drawl in a smoky snicker and turn in his arms so you can loop yours around his neck. "I think you remember everything and are just feigning otherwise," you quip, grinning when he scoffs and picks you up by the backs of your thighs to take you to bed.

"I remember bits and pieces. Then there's fuzzy parts that could've been real or a dream," he admits as he tosses you onto the bed, smirking as you yelp in surprise while you bounce. "Did you tell me I wouldn't get anymore pussy?" he asks haughtily as he discards his towel from his hips and snatches his gray boxer-briefs off the bed to yank them on.

Your giggle is seductive as you sit up on your elbows. "Yeah, I did. And you got all flustered thinking I meant you'd never get it again," is your impish retort as he grabs for his dark-wash jeans, smiling when he pauses in getting dressed to eye you challengingly. "It was cute—"

Javi tosses his jeans aside and climbs onto the bed, prowling along it to loom over you before he yanks you down to be sprawled on your back. You gasp in surprise when he flings your robe open, then dissolve into a hearty cry of excitement after he crawls between your open thighs and bows between them, burying his face in your pussy with a possessive growl.

The apples of your cheeks burn with licentious glee the rest of the morning after that, even while you sit at the café and recap to him in a hushed tone everything from the night before, to his unabashed delight. He tells you the things he definitely remembers and balks at the things he thought were a dream.

Afterwards, you enjoy listening to him recap things from the day and evening prior, and by the time you're entering your apartment with your bag of clothes for swapping out, you're breathless from laughing at his current line of heckling.

"—I'm serious! You really played up that movie, and it was ridiculous. His whole dick was out for no reason," Javi's deriding as he closes the door after himself and you continue to guffaw down the hall. He puts his keys on the side table and follows you, tossing himself down on your bed while you empty out your bag of clothes and start sorting through it, simpering snickers the entire time, so he goads, "I can't believe you like that movie so much—"

"Oh my god, I liked it because I had a crush on Richard Gere! And, it's called suspension of disbelief for a reason, you jodón," you laugh and yank his boot off for him before he's able to kick to fling it off. He chuckles and stretches out while you yank the other off too to be set down on the floor. Smugly, he rests his hands behind his head and smiles when you drop his foot unceremoniously to the bed so you can toe off your leather flats in order to prowl over him and straddle his jean-clad lap in your flirty paisley ruffle skirt. "And, it has a nostalgia factor for me. The fashion, the music, the outings – it was quintessentially the best period, when I was running around having fun, back then," you tell him while you toy with the open collar of his light purple button down.

"Yeah, I get it," he concedes, full lips cresting with mirth when he tugs on the string of your white keyhole blouse, exposing your cleavage to him and earning a scoff from you as you slap his hands away playfully. "I don't remember seeing him in any of the photos in the album, so I take it you never got to meet your crush?"

Precocious smirk fighting the purse of your lips, you hum noncommittally and go to slink off his lap, but he riles and sits up to lasso you back and arches his brows in inquiry. "I didn't get to meet him, per se, but I saw him once in the club. He was with Diana Ross and like, a giant entourage of people. I didn't have the guts to go up to him," you divulge and pout demurely when he looks surprised by that. "I also was alone because Sasha had disappeared into one of the rooms with some guy, and I was worried so I ended up going to look for him—"

"Would you have hooked up with him if you had the chance?" Javi asks mischievously, pursing his mustachioed upper lip goofily at you. "Not that I would've loved the idea of having to measure up to a movie star—"

"Hah! I don't know, honestly," you chortle and wrinkle your nose when he grunts, as if unconvinced. "I mean, I never hooked up with a celebrity. I flirted with a few, but it was harmless fun. I think if he'd approached me, I would've been too flustered to go through with anything," is your retort as you lean down and nuzzle his neck. "What would you have done if I'd said yes?" you chime amusedly now that he encircles your waist to pin you against him.

"I would've never watched another Richard Gere movie ever again," he jibes dryly.

You laugh, kissing his cheek and cuddling him with silly delight. "Not even Pretty Woman?" you chime derisively and wink at him.

"Nope. Don't need it. You're hotter than any hooker with a heart of gold," he chuckles, and you cackle and swat his chest.

Flirtatiously glowering, you snicker, "Oh jeez, what a compliment—"

"That isn't to say that I'd turn down the chance at having you roleplay one some time," he drawls ruggedly and bounces his eyebrows wickedly.

"I'm sure, you beyaquito," you snicker and cheekily nibble on his earlobe, earning a stuttered breath from him and a swat on your derrière as well as a nudge of his temple to yours while you both just canoodle amorously on your bed for a bit.

"You got that dress still?" he queries in a honeyed baritone as he noses into your hairline by your ear. When you hum curiously, he elaborates, "That killer dress you mentioned, the one you got after seeing that movie?"

"Oh. I do, but not here. I have it in storage," you answer and smile when he grunts faux-admonishingly. "What? It was a stunning look in 1981! It fell out of fashion, so I stored it," is your snickered justification, letting your hands wander teasingly down his sides as you goad, "Not all of us insist on wearing outdated fashions like someone I know—"

"Oh, yeah? Outdated, am I?" Javi grouses acerbically as he playfully pins you down and leans back to narrow his eyes with fake umbrage. "I wear what looks good—"

"That is undeniable, but you are not on trend, chulito," you tease, grinning when he gives you a sardonic 'Oh, really now?' look as you squeeze the insides of your knees at his hips for emphasis, and deride, "Your jeans alone are one step away from being skinny bell bottoms – giving Barry Gibb a run for his money—"

Your razzing dissolves into a squeal of laughter when Javi starts tickling you relentlessly and suckling nippy kisses into your neck. The fit of giggles and the way you squirm to buck him off has him grinning so wide that his handsome dimple appears in his cheek when he lets you roll him onto his back and flatten out over his sprawled-out frame.

"Such a criticona," he gravels out and smiles up at you when you huff rogue strands out of your face and scrunch your nose defiantly at him. "Always putting down my style—"

"Not putting it down! I'm only teasing," you counter and smile with genuine delight. "I like your style, no matter how out of style it is," is your lilt, loving how he rolls his eyes and grumbles snootily, so you cuddle him and coo, "Only a handsome, swagger-rich stud like you can pull it off effortlessly."

He grunts warmly at the compliment and nuzzles into the top of your hair. "I wouldn't be caught dead in bell bottoms anyway…"

You chuckle and give him an affectionate squeeze, gleefully picturing him dressed like a disco stud – tight bell bottoms, open-collared satin shirt, Cuban heeled boots, and gleaming gold medallion necklace. You internally fawn at the mental image. He would've been such a hunk at Studio54…

After some more time cuddling, he gets up to go use the bathroom, so you take advantage and store the clothes you brought before picking out new odds and ends to take back to his place. You're in the middle of folding a bunch of blouses to be stored in the bag when your house phone rings. You can hear Javi washing his hands in the bathroom sink when you get the wireless phone from the mount and answer.

"—Hey, ketsele!" Sasha is boisterously greeting over the sound of a scoffing voice who then cuts in.

"Get off the phone, Sasha!"

You snicker as you hear the Ivanov siblings bicker a bit before you're able to intercept as you sit sidelong on the bed, chiming in, "Hey, you two! What a treat to get you both on the phone at the same time."

"Oh my god, he's so annoying!"

"What?! I told you I wanted to be on to hear her reaction—"

"But you're literally screaming in my ear, Sasha. Just come here and I'll put it on speakerphone—"

Javier is exiting the bathroom and coming in from the hall while your friends continue to bicker loud enough for him to hear them. He raises a brow at you and mouths, 'Who is that?'

"Alright, you two. What is the special occasion? Everything ok?" you ask before mouthing to Javi, 'It's Sasha and his sister, Irina.'

He nods and drops down to lounge next to you on the bed as he grabs for his cigarettes and finally caves to the urge for a smoke.

"Ok I'm here, so put it on the speaker thing," you hear Sasha order his sister, who scoffs and presses a button that indicates the audio going to speakerphone mode. "Hey, mon chéri. I miss you—"

"Oh, stow the flirting, would you?" Irina huffs wryly and you hear her swat his shoulder. "I wanna tell her the news and you're just hijacking me, as always."

"Blessed hell, fucking tell her then and quit dragging it out—"

"Shut up then!"

As they sniped back and forth, you took the opportunity to press the speaker button on the handset so Javi can hear how ridiculous the Ivanov siblings are, and he grins while you stifle your giggles into his shoulder.

"—I don't even know why you can't just let me have a moment with my friend without trying to schmooze her."

"Oy vey, you pain in the ass. She's my friend too—"

"Guys! Enough snapping at each other," you finally bark at them, having to switch into mediator mode. "Now, as fun as it's been to hear you bitch at each other like old times, I am beyond curious as to why you're both together on a Sunday, let alone calling me," is your musing remark while Javi puffs on his cigarette and skims his fingers languidly along your thigh.

"Well, we actually are about to go visit with our father. He's come to New York for some tests with a couple of oncologists. And, uh, well, I wanted to call to tell you Aslan and I set a date, and I want you to be my maid of honor!" Irina rambles until she exclaims the happy news.

You beam, merrily retorting, "I'd love to!"

"I told her you would. As if you'd ever say no," Sasha drawls in a rasp, and you hear a swat, and you can easily picture Irina smacking his brawny bicep with her petite little hand as she glowers murderously at him. "When I go back down there, I'll bring the official wedding invite—"

"Oh, and way to omit being madly in love! I can't believe you told Sasha and not me—" Irina is bossily scathing, which makes you blush while Javi chuckles at your expense.

"Which reminds me: I'm going to be Aslan's best man, so Javi darling is gonna have to deal with you and I walking down the aisle arm-in-arm, krasivaya—"

"I don't have a problem with it at all," Javier remarks coolly, and you gasp and swat his shoulder. "What? I don't."

"Hah! You got us on speaker for Javi's amusement, eh, ketsele?!" Sasha razzes charmingly.

"Hi, Javi! You better treat my friend right or I will have my brother beat you up," Irina threatens with a wily timbre, and you face palm. "He's done it before—!"

"Technically I only punched the guy. I'd hardly call it a beating—"

"Yeah, well, you will beat him up, because if you don't, I'll kick your ass—"

"Would you two dorks stop," you cut in, and manage to get the conversation back on track long enough to find out the date of the wedding, the intended location, and make sure to assure, "—I will put in for the time off, so email me all the details so I can start planning bachelorette festivities!"

"Will do. And Javi – you're invited," Irina charms in her falsetto lilt before giggling, "We'll make sure to get adjoining suites in the hotel so my brother can keep an eye on you—"

"Oh, ketsele refuses to share, so no naughty fun is happening, you prude—"

Javi is giving you a scandalized smile as your friends keep speculating raunchily over the lewd possibilities of you three carrying on during the wedding, all while you gape at the phone. "Alright, that's enough of you two trying to scare Javi off! Now, I'll talk to you later to dish more about the arrangements, Irina. And Sasha – call me when you're fitting to come back down, ok?" you order sassily and grin when Javier stubs his cigarette out and lounges more comfortably back against the headboard with a smug look quirking his handsome features.

"Will do!" the siblings retort in unison, and you snicker as you all say your goodbyes before you end the call.

"Another wedding to go to," Javi drawls aloofly as you lean sidelong into him and rest your head on his shoulder with a soft sigh.

"I know you're super busy, so a trip to New York is out of the question," you remark neutrally.

Shifting to loop his arms around you, he drawls in a honeyed baritone, "You never know. I figure my window for nailing Cali is closing, and with what my guys have in the works, if everything pans out, I could be shutting the case on the entire thing very soon. Just put me down as your plus one, corazón."

You melt at that, slinking up to cup his jaw and kiss him tenderly.

After you finish packing the new rotation of clothes – making sure to covertly sneak a certain ensemble for some naughty mischief you intend to surprise him with at some point, you and Javi head back to his place, where you do laundry, iron, and cook dinner together while the radio plays some romantic oldies.

It's uncanny how much you enjoy this tranquil domesticity with him, but you can't bear to think of a time without this feeling of belonging. Your heart is full and serene, and while you're on the phone catching up with your grandmother, Javi washes the dishes and listens to your pleasant side of the conversation until you pass the phone over dutifully and let them chat for a bit.

Later on, when you both are freshly showered and getting ready for bed, you are sans robe, rubbing lotion on your arms after having finished with your legs and tucked them under the bedding away from the air-conditioned chill. Javi sheds his towel and scrubs it to catch the wayward beads of water clinging to tendrils of his hair before hanging it back up on the rack, padding back into the bedroom after shutting the lights off in the hall. He looks delectable in his nude glory as he lopes over to his side of bed, tugs the covers back and slides under them with a yawn.

"Need a hand?" he purrs when you try to reach backwards to get a spot between your shoulder blades.

Smiling, you hand him the bottle and pivot to present your back to him. He sits up and massages a dollop of the lotion into his warm palms before working it into your supple skin. He takes the chance to worshipfully kiss a trail from your nape to the back of your ear before nuzzling into your hairline there. "Don't get frisky now," you tut silkily and lean back into him when his hands work around from your back to your sides and cup your breasts.

"Too late," Javi rumbles against your jaw before nudging you in a show of dominance, getting you to turn your head so he can capture your lips with his own.

You end up making love, slow and tender, with murmured sweet nothings shared between heady mewls and husky groans.

It's sheer bliss, and you're on cloud nine when you're nestled in his arms after, pining with delight while he caresses his touch languidly along your back in the dark. Javier feels the most content when you're peacefully cuddled against him, sated and warm – drifting off into slumber. It makes him feel worthy – deserving of having you love him, fulfilled that you'd feel so serene in his embrace. That you would trust him so completely after everything you've both been through.

As he starts to drift off himself, the ambitious part of him weaves a tapestry of possibilities for the future. He envisions moving into an apartment with you. Sees you both holding hands as you walk through the lobby of the embassy. Manifests meeting your father – in some way – and asking him for your hand in marriage. Getting a ring and showing your grandmother, to get her blessing. And just as he dozes off, he dreams about getting down on one knee with a ring as dazzling as your smile as he asks you to be his forever.

The next morning while you both get dressed, Javi remembers that last part, and is watching you reverently as you brush your hair and twist it up in an elegant hair clasp before you straighten out your flouncy periwinkle blouse.

"You got any plans for lunch?" he asks as he feigns like he was concentrating on straightening the knot of his filigree-patterned blue and green tie when you sit on the bed to slip your heels on.

"Yeah. It's been a while since I've had lunch with the girls, so we made plans on Friday to have lunch by the fountain today," you tell him amiably as you stand and smoothen out your sleek black pencil skirt. "Wanna meet after for coffee in my office?" you ask as you slip into your chic blazer, admiring how he shrugs into his own light gray suit jacket with graceful swagger before turning back to catch you staring, so you wink at him and lilt, "We can close the door and make out on my couch."

Javi's lips purse audaciously at the suggestion as he lopes over and sexily pulls you into his chest before dipping down to steal a kiss, then cockily husking, "That'd be quite daring, director. You sure you wanna risk getting caught with the embassy slut?"

You laugh out and affectionately wrap your hands behind his neck in order to fiddle with the back of his collar as you slink up against him. "You're no longer the embassy slut. You, mi beyaquito, are my filthy, naughty, sweet boy – who I occasionally let be a slut for me," you amend with prim authority before kissing him on his awed lips. "Now, I have a meeting to run to, so pórtate bien until I see you in my office?" is your bossy purr as you slink your hands from around his shoulders down to his collarbones before they glide to trace his tie, giving it a light tug before receding to loop in his waistband cheekily.

The savage pride that radiates in the center of his chest for you has his soulful eyes going molten with want as he nods and leans in for one last peck, tapping your ass and making you squeak cutely before strutting off to grab your purse and tote whilst you blow him a kiss as you breeze out the door.

"Fuck me…" he grouses wistfully to himself as he grabs his watch from the dresser and fastens it to his wrist, charmed smile cresting his lips as he thinks about whether he can find a way to talk with your grandmother privately in order to ask her for your father's contact information. One thing at a time. You got jack-shit on taking out Cali the way you'd need to in order to be able to take things to the next level, is the admonishing voice, cautioning him as he grabs his things from the credenza and heads out the door.

Said voice is only further validated by the latest update he's getting from Feistl and Van Ness once they're debriefing him in the conference room, passing surveillance photos and detailing how hard it would be to siege the current location Miguel Rodríguez is holed up in.

"—Salcedo has people in the telephone company tapping lines for Rodríguez. He said he's super paranoid that his brother may be swaying the other two Cali godfathers against him. But at the very least, they're all backing Miguel against the North Valley shit," Chris is detailing while Dan broodingly chews on the end of the straw from his coffee cup.

"Any more talk about the leak?" Javier asks as he crosses his arms tightly and resists the urge to go for his pack of cigarettes.

"Other than knowing there is one? No. Salcedo's really worried, boss. His close call has him on edge, and with Miguel spiraling into mistrust like he is, we don't think there's a lot of time left before we need to get him and his family out of here," Dan lobbies.

While Javier is stuck stewing with the unsustainably fraught scenarios before him, you're catching up with the girls over lunch. Afterwards, you chat with Marisol, who has kept your confidence and relationship with Javier a secret, so you smile and confirm things are still going with the dashing man that she affectionately proclaims, "Is absolutely in love with you, and was about time you made an honest man out of," while patting you genially on the shoulder.

She's also helped you with a few other things you are thanking her for now, and once you both make a standing date to all have lunch again sometime soon, you head up to your department. You're eager to put on a fresh pot of coffee and have your secret date with Javi, idly fishing from your blazer pocket a tinted balm stick to apply to your lips; pressing them together as you fuss with the machine.

When he rounds the corner towards your little coffee nook a few minutes later, you can see how moody he is, and how he's trying to mask it. But his soulful eyes being crinkled at the corners and the little furrow between his brows will always give him away to you. So, you pour him a cup and hand it to him before confidently taking your own mug and leading him down to your office. Once he's crossed the threshold, you click the door closed, silently lock it, and tug the sidelight blinds shut before putting your mug down on the side table and going to him.

Javier puts his cup aside when you approach, thinking you're going to playfully shake him by the shoulders like you do when you see him all wound up. He doesn't expect you to shove him down onto the couch so that you can hike your skirt up and straddle his lap in order to wrap your arms around him in fierce, doting hug. His stunned reaction melts instantly, and he leans into it, embracing you with a relieved exhale. How you can know him so well as to sense what he needs? It floors him, and he is thankful for your loving grace as he pulls you close and kisses you with fervor.

Eventually, you both rein in your desires, and you scoff at yourself as you devotedly scrub the lip balm evidence from his mouth while he snorts and chuckles, "I like this version of a coffee date."

"I'm sure you do, fresco," you giggle and grab your mug to sip your coffee as you wiggle your brows at him.

He doesn't unburden himself with what he was moodily brooding about. And you don't ask, sensing it's something he didn't want to discuss onsite.

Still, you decide then and there that tonight might be the night to spring the little surprise you'd cooked up in your head.

Javier is none the wiser as he kisses you one more time before you stealthily unlock your door. "See you later tonight," you whisper before opening the door and letting your cool demeanor conceal how smitten with him you are.

"Thanks again for the coffee," he muses smoothly, tipping his cup appreciatively at you before shooting you a quick wink and sauntering off out through your department's workspace.

You internally fawn for him as you watch him go.

Javi feels better too. So much so, he puts up with the bullshit conference calls and tedious work Stoddard lays out on his desk for the rest of the day, and even though his call with stateside at the end of the day doesn't go great, he figures it could've been worse. The deputy ambassador was not interested in rocking the boat, so at the very least he figured he could keep avoiding the local government's pressure until he was forced to once Crosby was back in-country. He's thinking about his prospects for successfully thwarting any more sabotage when he leaves the embassy and drives home that evening.

He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out before heading up in the elevator, preoccupied with his thoughts over the C.I., Salcedo. The idea that corruption could go as far up as the Minister of Defense is something he's toyed with, but without any definitive proof, he knows it'd be career suicide to allege it. He's stewing about it as he walks down the hall and keys into his apartment.

The lamp is on in the living room, and he notices there's a light on in the bedroom, but the bathroom door is closed, so he locks the door behind himself and unloads his belongings to the credenza as he calls out, "I'm home, querida."

"Be right out!" is your muffled retort from behind the bathroom door, so he goes to the kitchen and pours himself a drink while he loosens his tie and pops the next two buttons of his collar open. He notices the takeout containers from the tapas place, and smirks, looking forward to lounging on the couch with you after such a long day.

Loping into the bedroom to remove his shoes, blazer, belt, and watch, Javi wonders if you would rather listen to music, or watch TV with dinner, as he sits on the bed and set his drink aside so he can reset the alarm clock for an early meeting he has the next day.

The bathroom door opens, and he hears the subtle click of heels approach before pausing at the doorway.

"You look like you could use some company, hot stuff," you chime in a sultry timbre as you strike a pose and enjoy how he turns to look at you before gaping in awe.

He's dumbstruck. Completely floored by you looking like a sexy vixen in the black pumps and ridiculously short mini dress. It's a bright tangerine color with a halter top neck and side cutouts that reveal the exquisite hourglass shape of your figure. The material is so slinky and tight that Javi can easily make out that you're not wearing a bra – mouthwatering at the sight of your tits defying gravity in the bust of the top while your nipples dent the fabric. Your hair has volume and is undulating sultrily around your face and down your shoulders, and the way your cherry-red lips smile at him while you bat your lashes has lewd urge tangling ardently in his belly.

"…What is—I don't-I mean…company?" Javier stammers as he takes you in, jaw dropped as his brain continues to trip over itself.

Pleased, you strut into the room and stand to loom over him while he just stares with those big, brown puppy eyes off his. "That's right. Company," you draw out with syrupy charm before placing your hands on your hips – fingernails a glossy red that gleams in the lamplight. With a saucy cant of your stance that balances your weight onto one hip, you wink at him as you lilt, "I'm your beck and call girl for the night, stud."

The gob-smacked wonder blooms over his handsome face before his eyes twinkle with the dawning of realization. "Oh…oh. Is that a fact?" Javi husks and leans back on his splayed hands, lips plush and pursing out with raunchy charisma as he ogles your curves.

"It is. Now, for the ground rules: I don't do 'daddy kink', I don't put up with rough tricks, and," you pause your flirty listing for dramatic emphasis as you lean forward and enunciate imperiously, "I don't kiss on the mouth."

Javi internally groans at how ridiculously hot this is, and lets a slow smile tug his lips. "Fucking hell…what if I really want to kiss you?" is his musing rumble, eyes warm with mirth as he watches you try to stifle your teasing grin.

"Well, you can kiss me...just not on the mouth," you sinfully purr and fold your arms behind yourself with feigned chastity.

The arousal that roils down into his apex and heats his skin has him grunting a low sound of enticement. "Well then…" he grouses as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, sitting up to shrug it off and stare hungrily at you as he orders in a velvety drawl, "How 'bout a striptease, you sexy little minx."

You've been tingling with excitement since you heard the key slip into the lock. And now, with him looking riled and deliciously into this tawdry roleplay as he sits in just his trousers, looking good enough to pounce on? It has you incredibly turned on and eager to drive him wild. So, you make to do a slow, sensual spin in order to show him how low cut the dress is in the back before you toss your hair over a shoulder so you can reach for the clasp of the halter top. Undoing it, you then tug on the spaghetti strap that keeps the gravity-defying mini dress cinched to your torso.

With a coquettish glance back over your shoulder at Javi, you slowly shimmy the tangerine material down your figure. His eyes are drinking in the salacious spectacle while he traces the inner rim of his upper lip and wars with the impulse to just take you to bed and ravish you. When you get the material to your hips, you turn to face him before pushing the dress to pool at your heeled feet.

His cock throbs in his pants at the sight of the red lace thong panties you'd vetoed wearing for him a week prior, and he doesn't even care to stifle the husky hum that emanates from his pent-up urge pulsing raucously in him.

Kicking the dress aside, you do your best impression of Julia Roberts as you preen coltishly in just the black heels and red panties, tossing your hair sexily behind your shoulders as you fold your arms behind yourself again and chime blithely, "What next, sweetheart?"

Grazing his bottom lip with his teeth, he stands from the bed and leaves only inches between you both as he surveys your perky tits and enjoys the little excited hitch in your breath while you stare up at him demurely before tracing your gaze down his body. You can plainly make out the outline of his ramrod erection hidden in his trousers, and your mouth waters at the thought of getting on your knees in front of him. It's what you expect him to order, after all – that you go down on him until he buries his cock into the back of your throat and spills his cum. But then you remind yourself that Javi's not a selfish lover, and how you practically have to manhandle him into letting you get him off with oral.

Your gaze must be licentiously provoking him, because you see his expression smoothen before his eyes soften with a gloating smile.

Then, with a commanding calm, Javier looks you in the eyes, cupping his palm to caress your cheek, and tells you in a bass-rich baritone, "Take those fucking panties off."

The way your breath catches in your chest and your pussy clenches around nothing hazes your mind over for a split second before you go to do as you were told, hooking your fingers to peel your panties down from your hips. Javi stays right where he is, so you blush at how you lean forward and bump your rouged lips into his abs and end up leaving a lipstick print on his skin.

He loves how airy you've gotten from the order, so, he showily unbuttons his slacks and unzips the fly as he croons in a low register, "So, what should I call you? You can call me 'sir' when you need to beg," then pushes his pants down before stepping out of them, smirking at how you blink in disarmed pause at him. "Or, you'd rather I decide?" he prompts as he takes your hands and guides them down his body towards the waistband of his underwear.

Hearing his unspoken command, you undress him of his boxer-briefs, loving how his cock springs forth from the soft cotton and strains up. Cheekily, you crouch down to guide the garment's descent, and once they're off and you've dutifully removed his socks one by one, you skim your hands up his thighs and lewdly fondle his warm sac and palm his cock. His breath stutters out as a heady grunt and his hand cups your shoulder.

"You can decide, sir," you murmur alluringly before kissing the head of his cock, leaving a red kiss print on it.

Gruffly groaning, Javi tilts your face up with his warm fingers and coaxes you to stand so he can caress your cheek while the pad of his thumb swipes possessively over the plush pillow of your glossy and rouged bottom lip.

With a molasses thick purr, Javi continues to trace his thumb along the plump flesh as he hums, "You're gonna be Cherry for tonight. Goes with this cherry-red mouth. Does that work for you, mi cerecita?"

You brazenly answer in the affirmative by sucking his thumb into your mouth and humming, 'Mmhmm' around it, getting a deviant little thrill at how Javi's eyes smolder and his lips part breathily. Freeing his digit with a silky hum, you murmur, "What d'you wanna do first, stud?"

The endless possibilities of the depraved filth you could be thrown into has your core thrumming, so when Javier brings you both back to the side of the bed, where he sits at the edge of the mattress and makes you straddle his right thigh – leaving you balanced precariously on it and the tippy toes of your pump heels while he fondles your tits and mouths greedily on your taut-yet-delicate nipples? You feel frayed with lust and out of your depth in this salacious little game. But then you realize what he's doing when he grazes his teeth over your left nipple and suckles hard on it, earning a strangled mewl from you as you impulsively grip his shoulders and grind your pussy down on his warm, flexing thigh.

He's working you into a carnal tizzy and milking heady cries of pleasure from you in order to see how long you'll go before you break your rule and kiss him. After all, when he gets you really worked up, you tend to stifle your sounds of pleasure by burying them in his mouth, or muffling them into his neck. But the way he's got you balanced, with his hands at your hips as he licks and sucks possessively on your nipples in turn, you can't do much more than grip his shoulders or biceps imploringly while you ride his thigh. It's raunchy and lascivious, and you know he's loving every minute of it.

Whimpering, you bite down your lip and blush at the drenched heat of your wet pussy grinding against him, gasping at how good it feels when he purses his mouth over your right nipple and moans. Arching your lower back to be able to loop your arms around his neck, you mewl before stuttering, "Pl-Please, sir—let me ride you for real."

Javier releases your nipple with a lewd pop of his full lips and mocks, "Cock-hungry little thing, eh?" You stifle a breathy protest and writhe when he rolls the nipple he was just sucking on between thumb and forefinger before pinching it. "I wanna get your pussy nice and juicy for me first, Cherry. Now, be a good girl and get yourself off for me," is his molten growl before he leans back on his propped arms and forces you to have to balance yourself on his thigh.

The apples of your cheeks burn with scandalized shame as you tingle with a new wave of arousal at his burning stare, watching you work yourself over. But when he smirks smugly at you, that defiant flare bounds up in you from your simmering core, so you daringly slink yourself forward and reach to wrap your hand deviously around his cock.

Javier anticipated you pulling such a stunt, however, so before you can stroke him into a firm hold, he's caught your wrist and swept you flush against him – maneuvering agilely to hike your legs open and flung over his spreading knees. You end up being precariously teetered backwards over his lap, with his hold on your wrist and lower back keeping you from toppling head over heels backwards.

Just as you're gasping and trying to get your lust-addled bearings, free hand gripping the hinge of his arm, Javi pivots to sweep you up against him and maneuver to switch positions – laying you out on the bed on your back while he takes your legs and hikes them up and pinned open against his shoulders before he leans over you and presses your knees to your chest.

"Did I say you could touch me, Cherry?" he gravels menacingly in a low octave, eyes honing into you and earning a deviant thrill to skitter down into the clutch of your pussy.

You can't help but play along to see what he'll do.

"I'm sorry, sir. I just couldn't help myself," is your kittenish whine as you grip the bedding and give him a killer doe-eyed pout that shouldn't be as sexy as it is, but you see the effect it has when he grunts appealingly and stares hungrily down at you, so, you decide to milk it further by begging, "Please, please, fuck me as hard as you can?"

That is something that strikes Javi like a bolt of lightning and electrifies him with salacious desire, letting the baser side of his urges loose. You end up gasping when he practically mounts you – planting his knees onto the bed and snapping his hips forward to plunge his cock into your fluttering silken sheath and pinning your legs over his shoulders as he bottoms out before baring his teeth from the effort to not just rail you roughly. The sound that tangles in your throat when he starts fucking you, is reedy and desperate as you lose yourself to the bruising pace Javi's thrusts set, is that of wrecked delight, deliriously enthralled by how deep he's going while his balls slap against your drenched perineum.

But it's the delectable, pure filth that he growls huskily when he starts hammering his cock up into that devastatingly incinerating pleasure point nestled deep in you that disassembles you bit by bit towards the edge of bliss.

"Goddamn, this pussy's the best I've ever had—fucking taking me like this, clenching all needy and hard around my cock," he husks, piston-like strokes into your drenched cunt relentless with his dominance, amplifying the slick squelching sounds of him fucking into you over the slapping of flesh colliding warmly against flesh. You blush and moan, tossing your hair and writhing at how the obscenely lurid sounds combined with his lewd praise make you gush with more arousal. "Mmm, you like that?" Javi croons wolfishly, and shuffles to lean back on his haunches, manhandling you to be arched into the bed while he loops his grip to the backs of your legs before shifting them off his shoulders to hold them open at your ankles in order to pound into you now. "F-Feel so good when your pussy gets molten-wet for me," he grouses before cockily cooing, "Look at you, baby. Drunk on my cock and getting off in these sexy heels and nothing else – letting me rail the fuck out of you—"

"Oh god," you exhale as a shallow whimper, feeling yourself pulsing with the sinuous fire of an impending climax and utterly riled by his naughty taunts, hands wringing in the bedding while your tits bounce from his merciless pounding pace into your rippling, yearning cunt.

"You gonna let me shoot my load in this juicy little pussy?" he hoarsely rasps, panting breaths catching in his chest when you clench and flutter around him with a meek keen and bite your lip. "Oh fuck, you like that," Javier tells you huskily before growling assertively, "Yeah, are you my dirty girl? Want me to fuck my cum deep so it drips out of you? Have me inside you for days?"

The sinful depravity of his dirty talk unearths a fiery jolt from the seat of your core before it cloys ravenous pleasure to flood you over and has you crying out as your orgasm sears through you and gushes wet warmth all over Javier's apex and crotch as he keeps fucking through your rippling heat. You're so lost in your ecstasy that you cry out, "Javi!" in a drawn-out exclamation of delirious pleasure – completely breaking character.

It's a glorious thing for Javi to witness – an accomplishment he revels in gloatingly as he lets you ride the bliss out and prolongs your gratification by rocking in and out of you. You moan and arch off the bed, surprising him by reaching for him and becoming needy for his embrace.

Javi carefully shifts your legs down to remove your heels and toss them to the floor before he bends them to comfortably butterfly out on the bed while he props himself over you, leaning forward to kiss you—

You turn your face away and tut airily, "Uh-uh, n-no rule-breaking—"

Huffily, he deplores, "Oh c'mon—"

"Weren't you gonna fuck your cum deep inside me, sir?" you husk mockingly and wrap your legs around him as you grip the backs of his shoulders and angle your pelvis up to nestle his cock deep into your still-rippling pussy.

"Dios mío misericordioso," Javier hitches roughly, and you relish how his cock jerks inside you intently before he steals your breath by pulling out and slamming back into you to the hilt in a ferocious sequence he frantically quickens his pace to while he buries his burning features into the crook of your neck as he swears and hisses, "F-Fuck, tell me you want it—say you want me to wreck you, you dirty girl—"

Your clit throbs, cunt honeying over with a new wave of squelching arousal that has your cheeks scalding as you mewl heartily, "Want it! Wanna feel you inside me and ache with you—will only take your cock. I need it—want you to wreck and ruin me, fill me with your cum, make me belong to you—"

He moans and chases his orgasm, so close to the edge, and you feel spun up in your own heady pleasure by how desperately he's fucking you. When he slams into you over and over at the right angle and with the rutting pressure of his pubic bone and coarse curls grinding into your clit, you come undone again. In your mindless pleasure, you curl up into him and graze your teeth along the juncture linking shoulder to neck before nipping him hard to stifle your whimpers of rapture.

The feral arousal that untethers in him from your primal reaction has him barreling his orgasm into you on a hoarse moan that dissolves into groans he muffles into your neck as he hunches over you after his hips stutter in his desperate pace. Your molten sheath flutters as he slots himself home after spilling his release deep.

You swear dazedly that he's so deep that you can feel the fill of his climax thrumming a warm flutter up into your womb as your hungry walls cling to keep every drop of him inside you.

Spent and ragged, Javier collapses on top of you with a sated grunt, and you hum in delight as you wrap your arms and legs around him to anchor his warm weight. You're both sweaty, skin supple and overheated, and positively teeming with the post-sex aftereffects of such a wild romp. His heady scent, and suppliant kisses along your neck make you smile dreamily.

So, you turn your face to nudge him in a bossy show of dominance and silent order for him to look at you. He does so with a lazy grunt, dark chocolate eyes gleaming under his heavy lids. You card your hand into the back of his hair and pull him into a doting, albeit passionate kiss.

Javi hums approvingly and deepens the kiss, cupping the back of your neck with his strong fingers pressing to arch your mouth up to his so he can entwine his tongue with yours.

Breaking the kiss to rest his forehead to yours, he indulges in how you sigh out and smile sexily at him, leaning back with a charmed hum as you pet your fingers from the back of his hair to glide around to brush the sweat off his brow. Tracing your touch along his countenance with fondness, you murmur breathlessly, "Well? What did you think of Cherry?"

He exhales through his nose and fights the flutter of his eyes, along with the deviant shudder that skitters up his spine before he husks on a gravelly drawl, "I think you're fucking amazing for spoiling me like that." You smile and caress his cheek, and his eyes get soulful as he gazes at you lovingly. "Fuck, that was really fucking hot," he admits, giving you a lopsided smirk before nuzzling kisses into your neck and mumbling infatuatedly, "Tan chingona."

After you cuddle him and internally beam at his praise, you and Javi shower, and then eat reheated tapas together in bed, satiating a different hunger now and reveling in the calm and comfort of the gravitation between you.

"—Ok, I'm dying to know: Where the hell have you been hiding that dress?" Javier rumbles once he comes back from stowing the dirty dishes and turning the lights out, sliding rambunctiously into bed next to you and slinking against your nude form before tucking his arm around your hip to pin you to him.

"Hah, honestly? I bought it on a lark years ago when I first moved here. My cousin cajoled me into getting it for our first night out clubbing together," you tell him and smile when he grunts and pouts at the thought of you being danced up on or felt up by anyone else other than him while in that dress.

"Well, it's now strictly to be worn when Cherry wants to come out and play," is his cockily haughty proclamation, to which you scoff and shove him playfully to lie back in bed so you can drape yourself over his chest.

"Alright, beyako. Before you make such a demand, when are you gonna roleplay for me, hmm?" you can't help jibe sassily as you trace your forefinger's nail provocatively along his bottom lip before tapping it to the center of the plush morsel for emphasis.

"I'll be your American gigolo whenever you want, baby," he charms on a honeyed purr, and you snicker before impishly rubbing his left nipple and giving it a pinch, which causes him to irreverently growl and squeeze you before suckling retaliatory kisses into your neck while you giggle.

You're thinking of how naughty and fun last night was now as you come back from your early meeting to sit at your desk, and after fawning some more, you remember that you hadn't chatted with your abuela the night before. You get up to shut your door before retrieving your cell phone and dialing her.

"—Ah, busy night, lindita?" she's teasing after you greet her.

"Yeah, I lost track of time! It was much too late to call—"

"Ah-hah, I'm sure," she chuckles knowingly, and you snicker. "How're things? Any luck with the apartment-hunting? And how is Javier?"

"Things are hectic, but great. We're still looking. The first place we saw was very small and didn't include parking, and the second apartment was a fourth-floor walkup, doesn't allow pets, and it wasn't in a secure building, so Javi didn't like it. And the third place was cramped and didn't have a bathtub. We're actually seeing one later tonight after work," you're regaling her as you sit at your sofa and stretch your legs out. "Javi's a bit stressed at work, but overall, he's good. Oh! And, the other night? He asked if I'd ever want to go to Texas to meet his father," you find yourself divulging in a hushed tone, but it does nothing to conceal your elated glee.

"Oh, that is wonderful! Did you say yes? When will you be going—?"

You giggle, "Whoa, there's nothing actually planned yet. He kind of blurted it out while he was a bit tipsy, so…I'm not sure he even remembers it. But I told him I'd love to."

"Good. I'm so glad things are going well between you two, mija," she sighs softly, and you can hear a bit of fatigue seep into her tone as she remarks, "He's a sweet man. I don't think he would've said it and not meant it—"

"You sound exhausted. Have they been running you ragged with all the post-wedding stuff?" you ask now as you sit up in your seat.

"Ah, not really. I'm just a bit tired, is all. Oh, so your prima is getting ready for Miguel to leave for his training. She moved into his flat until he comes back. They're going to wait on getting a house. Your tía insists that she should start looking. Tomorrow we're going to go to the big department store and do some shopping from the registry gift she received," she tells you, and you both chat a bit more until you check the time to see that you have to start heading down to the linkup with stateside.

"—All right. I'll call you tomorrow night, 'Buela. Have fun shopping," you're telling her warmly as you get up from the sofa to collect your laptop.

"I'm sure I will. Love you, lindita!"

"I love you too. Adios," you chime as you get to the door and end the call, merrily balancing your belongings in one arm and hand while you open the door and strut out to traipse hurriedly down to the server room.

While you make it through to the afternoon with Ellis and the team executing the linkup, Javier is utterly miserable and disarmed, reeling as he sits in the small conference room he's in, and feeling like the walls are closing in on him.

He'd been pulled into an emergency meeting – a conference call between the Colombian government, the deputy ambassador, and Crosby in which a lot of demands were being made, and he felt that they were begrudgingly kowtowing to, so he was left to be the main opponent in pushing back on the Samper officials. Just when the deputy ambassador shot him a forlorn look across from the conference table they both were sat at, Crosby cleared his throat over the phone, and leveled him.

"—We'll take this offline, Agent Peña. However, in regards to the request from our Colombian partners on the call: We will fully cooperate with the Minister of Defense's petition. I only ask that you allow us until I'm back in-country to make the necessary arrangements and coordinate handoff of investigative materials," the ambassador remarks in a steely tone.

Seething, Javier is clenching his jaw tightly to keep his objections to himself, and Stoddard eyes him warily when the call begins to wrap up. But after the tepid pleasantries closing out the call are completed, the ambassador orders his administrative assistant, Dotty, to patch another call through to him directly.

"Ambassador, I really wish you'd pushed back on these demands—" Javi is grumbling evenly once the impromptu call is initiated, but Crosby is having none of it.

"Frankly, Peña? With everything I've been hearing, I had no interest in stepping in anymore of your bullshit. As far as I'm concerned, you've got nothing to justify stonewalling Botero, and fuck-all to show for the trouble. Pardon my French, Dotty."

Feeling the umbrage crest up in him and heat the back of his neck with consternation, Javier resists the urge to air his grievances out, especially with everyone else in the conference room present, so he asks firmly, "Sir, I'd appreciate the chance to talk one-on-one before you make a final decision here."

The tension in the room is palpable as the ambassador's line crackles with his deliberating silence. Then, the man gravels, "Go ahead and give us some privacy, everyone."

Dotty gives Javier a sympathetic look as she collects her meeting notes while the deputy ambassador holds the door open for her while Stoddard mouths, 'I'll be right outside, boss.'

Once they've left the room and the door has clicked shut, Javi reaches over and takes the call off speakerphone, already tugging at the knot of his navy and white-dotted-patterned tie to loosen it. "Sir, I know this thing with Miguel Rodríguez hasn't gone to plan, but I swear, there are extenuating factors I have to brief you on once you're back—"

"Goddammit, Peña. It's always 'extenuating factors' with your ass. I don't have to tell you how badly you've burned bridges with the Colombians, so unless you have actual results to shut them up and keep your team on the hunt, the game is pretty much over for you," Crosby chastises. "When I'm back next week, you can give me your latest litany of excuses and stall tactics. But I'm telling you now: You might spend the time between now and then getting ready to wrap things up there."

It's like a punch to the gut. Javier wrings his hand tensely down his stressed features before grousing, "I don't have any intention of leaving my post until Rodríguez and the rest of the Cali godfathers are rotting in prison—"

"That's decidedly becoming more and more of a pipedream. So, start trying to salvage what you have left of your reputation while you're still able to, and be prepared to grit your teeth and bear it," Crosby dismisses with a hard tone. "I expect a meeting first thing once I'm back in my office. Understood?"

Clenching his jaw and exhaling through his nose, Javi agrees curtly, "Yes. Understood."

The ride down in the elevator with Stoddard is the most exasperated Javier has ever been. He bottles it up, though, and manages to conceal his acrimony over the call while his deputy details more DEA business he needs to be debriefed on. But really, he's too preoccupied with Crosby's threat.

So preoccupied that he loses track of time and grimaces when he finally looks at his watch. Swearing, he dismissed Stoddard with a testy order to run the rest by him in the morning as he grabbed his belongings and pocketed them in his dark slate gray blazer before he hustled out of his office and rushed down to the garage.

As he drives over to the apartment listing, you're already there, walking through the secure gate of the Spanish-styled boutique apartment complex with the realtor, who's detailing all the amenities as she leads the way. Your heels click along the wide terracotta tiles that line the expansive entry before it opens up to an interior courtyard. It has lovely baskets and desert sand concrete planters filled with vibrant flowers and lovely vined plants around a babbling circular water fountain in the center of the communal space.

You admire the timeless mosaic tiles that line the bottom of the fountain and gleam under the dusky sky above before she directs you to the apartment in question. It's a ground-floor corner unit, but when she opens the front door, you're surprised to see it's really a townhouse. The foyer faces a staircase up to the main living space, and off to your right is a small guest bedroom with adjoining bathroom, and a short hall that opens up to a cozy seating area and a nice open-concept kitchen, with a dining space separating the living space from the kitchen island. The apartment was designed in a Spanish colonial revival style, so the walls were sparse and white, while the floor was a vibrant glossy terracotta tile.

She's telling you about the appliances in the kitchen, detailing how the unit is partially-furnished while you take in the comfortable space, already feeling at home and going on a flight of fancy by envisioning you and Javi living there before you turn and see the patio doors and have to keep your glee at bay behind your poker face.

About twenty minutes later, Javier has just parked at the corner of the street and is stalking up the sidewalk en route for the building he thinks it is. He spots your car parked in front of it and bounds up the walkway to the secure access entryway gate. He sees the buzzard board and presses the call button for the unit number you'd detailed in the directions you'd written for him that morning before you'd both headed out to work. The gate is buzzed open, and he gains access, walking through and into the courtyard with the picturesque fountain and chic timelessness of the flower arrangements, the cement benches tucked around the space.

However, he's on autopilot and unable to really pay the details any mind. Not with how wrapped up his brooding thoughts are.

"Ah, this way, agente," he looks over and spots the realtor waving him down from the open doorway of the unit. He strides over and nods in greeting, but before he can ask a thing, she's volunteering in a hurry as she holds the door open and side-steps to begin exiting, "Go on in and take a look around! I'm running a bit late to pick up my child from the sitter, so just lock up and place the key back in the lockbox. Key's on the counter next to her purse. We'll chat soon!"

Javi's bemused as she departs in a hasty exit, and just grunts as he enters the space. Finally, he snaps out of his gruff mood to admire the warm and welcoming abode. He goes down the hall to find you, but when he rounds the living space on the ground level and finds it empty – save for the aforementioned purse and key, he retraces his steps back to the foyer and heads up the stairs. Walking around the corner of the landing down the hallway towards the main bedroom, Javi finds you at the open balcony doors gazing out at the dimly lit and lush patio below. The soft breeze coming through from the balcony undulates your hair and flutters the soft charmeuse of your pastel yellow blouse that's tucked into the sleek black pencil skirt you're donning.

You turn when you hear his footfalls come through the doorway, and Javi's breath catches in his chest at how obviously excited you are, even as you try to restrain it. "Querida…" he husks, and you're unable to contain it any longer.

Exuberantly, you smile brightly and rush towards him, kissing him on the lips and pulling him along into the large empty bedroom as you gush, "Oh my god, can you believe this place? I've been ready to burst since I walked in! Downstairs is perfect. And this room is so big! There's a walk-in closet that can more than fit our combined wardrobes."

As you're towing him to the veranda of the balcony, Javier feels a sharp pang of guilt crest through his chest.

"And look, we'd have our own little yard! See? The wood lattice trellises wall off the space, and there's a non-scalable fence in the far back, so you don't have to worry about security. And since it's a corner unit there aren't any other yards next to us, so, it's very private, guapito," you're chiming appealingly as you turn to gaze dazzlingly up at him.

His eyes are looking down at the space below, so you don't immediately pick up his distant expression before you nimbly scamper over to the bathroom and wave him along as you lilt, "And look! A shower and a soaking tub. I know, the tile might be a bit kookier than you're used to, but it's a Spanish colonial revival, with a Moroccan influence," you're telling him as you admire the quartrefoil ogee pattern of the ocean green tiles on the floor that mesh with the Moroccan white antique star and cross mosaic of the tiled walls around the tub and in the shower stall.

When you look at Javier then, you finally see it.

He's standing in the bathroom's doorway ruminating – brooding with something and muddled by it. His dark brewed eyes are tense – flaring a warm brown thanks to the bright lighting from the vanity mirror, jaw clenched with unspoken worries, and you sober in your giddiness.

"You don't like it?" you airily breathe out and wilt, shoulders slumping as you push off from the sink's counter you'd been leaning against, and go to approach him.

With a frustrated huff, Javier combs his hand tensely through his hair before fisting the tufts at his crown testily. "No, that's not it, mi amor. I'm sorry—" he begins to grouse before he forces himself to stop simmering with his intentions and assure you it isn't him rejecting your excitement. With a self-admonishing huff, Javier cups his palms around your shoulders, lightly squeezing, as he rumbles, "This, well, this is a really nice place. I just…I just don't know if we can get it right now."

Your brows furrow woefully before knitting together with concern, eyes creasing as you try to suppress your frown. "What? Why? Is something wrong?"

He doesn't know how much to tell you. Really, he's at a loss himself for what his prospects are now after what Crosby told him he needed to get ready for. And while he was definitely not going to let shit be yanked away from him without taking another run at the cartel, he wasn't sure how that would fare in the long run, which meant any and all plans you two had been making for a life here could be implausible now.

Javier didn't know how to tell you that. So, he obfuscates with, "Nothing's wrong. I just—I'm not sure we should move forward with getting a place right now."

Bewildered, you step back and look at him sharply, arms folding protectively over your stomach as you war with your rash impulses. "What's going on, Javier?"

It's then he puts his walls up; shields you from the wrathful, loathsome part of him he's wrestling with. His expression becomes flinty, trained into the stoic mask he puts up to hide what he really feels. "Querida, I'm sorry. I know we've been making plans, but things are just not in a place where I can commit to something like this—"

Your heart drops. "Something like this?" you repeat in a deadpan murmur and stare dubiously at him. His eyes flicker ambivalently, but his expression hardens, so you drop your arms to your sides and question cagily, "After everything, you've changed your mind?"

Exhaling noisily and turning away to rein his aggravation in – to keep his stoic façade up, Javi mutters, "No, I haven't. That's not what I was saying—"

Unable to stand there and get twisted up with your hurt and umbrage anymore, you scoff and round him to storm out of the bathroom as you dismiss, "Oh just forget it."

"Dammit," Javier swears through clenched teeth as he chases after you. "Would you just wait a minute?!" he calls after you when you angrily shut the balcony doors, lock them, and avoid him as you make to exit the bedroom out to the hallway. "Don't be like this—"

In that moment, with your heart feeling tangled up with uncertainty and reproachful doubt, that was the wrong thing to say to you.

Stopping, you whirl around and look the most furious he's seen you. "Are you serious?! 'Don't be like this'?! Like what?! Upset? Irate? Fucking thrown off?" you snipe at him and throw up your hands as you accuse, "You're keeping something from me, right? That's why you're pulling this shit on me now? Instead of just telling me what's going on, you're shutting down and doing that flippant shit I fucking hate – that makes me feel crazy for ever thinking we're on the same page; for wishing and wanting this, just for you to pull the rug out from under me."

"I fucking swear, I'm not trying to do any of that," he huffs and curls his hands into fists at his sides, clenching them hard as he tries to center himself to attempt to diffuse this. Haltingly, he insists, "I'm just saying that with the things going on right now, I don't think we need to rush into this—"

"There's always 'things going on right now' with your job. Hell, whatever this is? It'll probably be in perpetual limbo because you will never be not chasing some puto cabrón cartel, so what's changed today?" you demand, heat rising to your face and the bite of tears cresting in the backs of your eyes. "Just be honest and tell me where this is suddenly coming from after you've been the one harping on getting more serious this whole time – getting sulky whenever I said we needed to be careful and wait. And now you're putting it on me wanting to rush you into a place—"

"Jesus Christ—I can't deal with this right now! I can't make you believe me and keep trying to convince you all the goddamned time about how I feel. Right now, I just don't think I can do this—" Javi exclaims with pent-up exasperation, losing his patience as he snaps his hands up in an imploringly frustrated manner while he rails his unfiltered stream of consciousness. But then his aggravated glare falters when he sees how your face falls, all anger zapped out and replaced with conflicted hurt. "Shit—no. Querida, I-I didn't mean it like that—"

"Yes, you did," you murmur tightly, and hold your hand up when he tries to approach. "Stop, I heard enough. You don't have to say another word. I don't want to hear any more fucking bullshit lies and omissions from you," is your wounded, hushed sneer, expression wavering into raw hurt for a split second before you train it into a scowl and level icily, "I can't keep doing this, so save your excuses and just forget about it, Javier."

He withers at that, and the sight of it is like a stone settling over your chest. You can feel your heart wrenching, signaling your hitting critical mass of emotional distress, so you turn and stalk out of the doorway and rush down the hallway to make a desperate exit before you fall apart.

Javier calls out your name as he gets to the door and watches you bound out of sight and down the steps with your clicking heels pounding down on the tiles and echoing about downstairs. He sprints down to the landing to try and catch you, but you've already made it through the foyer, snatched up your purse from the kitchen counter, and stormed out of the front door, slamming it behind yourself. Gutted, he reels with the impotent rage and stultifying guilt until that loathsome, lowly part of him admonishes him for thinking he wouldn't fuck things up eventually with you. It's all you ever do…

Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and letting out a frustrated snarl, Javi stalks down the hall to shut the lights, and goes on autopilot as he hurries down the stairs to grab the key from the kitchen counter and snap the light switches off in succession before he stalks to the door and exits, locking it and shoving the key into the attached lockbox. He hurries out of the building's courtyard and exits to get to his car, hoping against logic that you would've gone home to his place – that you would've reconsidered and decided to hear him out; to hash things out rather than let his callous remarks be the end of it.

But, of course, when he parks in the garage, your car isn't there, and his apartment is cold and empty. Frustrated with himself, he sheds his blazer and tie before snatching his phone from where he put it down on the counter to call you.

Your cell phone starts ringing in your purse as you get out of your car and lock it, and continues to chime as you hustle across the street to the entryway of your complex and across the courtyard to the stairs. It stops ringing when you get into your apartment, only for the house phone to start ringing. Angrily, you toss your things on the side table and stalk down the hall to the bedroom in order to shed your shoes and clothes, wiping intermittently at your tear-streaked cheeks. You're intent on ignoring his calls and putting needed distance between you and him after that spectacle tonight, unable to believe how quickly it escalated. It leaces you needing to cool down and think.

When Javi gets your answering machine, he hangs up, not wanting to say what he needs to say to a fucking recorder. No, he's resolved to do exactly what he should've done originally: tell you the exact truth and decide together what it would mean for your relationship.

"You fucking moron," he hisses at himself as he drops down onto the couch and buries his face in his hands. "Every fucking time. You just have to keep fucking things up…"

Deciding to drown his sorrows, Javi pours himself a double neat, and impulsively lights a cigarette, drinking and smoking in his self-loathingly preoccupied stewing while you're emerging from the shower a while later, and dejectedly eyeing the answering machine. There are no new messages, so you trudge down to bed, pull on an oversized shirt, and unceremoniously crawl under the quilt, feeling morose and miserable.

How you manage to doze off is a mystery, but you do, and are awoken by something you swear is your alarm clock, but when you groggily shuffle to the side of the bed to turn the alarm off, you realize you'd never set it. Then your hearing sharpens and you realize it's the house phone ringing. Groaning, you get up and go to the hall to get the handset from the mount, deciding to just relent and tell Javier you don't want to talk to him and need some time until you're ready to hear him out.

You answer the phone curtly.

The voice on the other line is not Javi.

Your mind is trying to process why she would call so early.

And then, she tells you, and everything in you comes apart, loses ground, and untethers.

You fall to your knees and choke on a sob and lose yourself, seeing and hearing nothing but the devastation of your heart being torn asunder and the world falling apart around you.

---

Spanish-English Glossary:

Canela = Cinnamon

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Mi directora = My director (female)

Traviesa = Naughty/Mischievous girl

Tan juguetona = So playful (female)

Mi patrón = My master/boss

Guapita = sassy/foxy/daring/testy (female)

Lengüetero = garrulous, silver-tongued daring and witty talker (male)

Malvadita = Wicked little girl

Un papisongo tan guapo = Such a handsome sexy stud

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

Tan bello = So beautiful/lovely (male)

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Dios mío = My god

Fuente = A source [of information]; a leak

Mijo = short for "mi hijo", a term of endearment akin to "my son/sonny"

Tía = Aunt

Feliz Cumpleaños = Happy Birthday

Nuera = Daughter-in-law

Sabes? = You know?

'Buela = short for 'abuela', aka grandmother

Gatita = Little kitten

Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled

Guapito = Handsome (said in an affectionate diminutive)

Dame la llave = Give me the key

Mi cariñito = My sweet little darling

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Bebito = Little baby (male)

Mi reina amada = My beloved queen

Puto beyako = shameless fucking guy

Mi patrona = My master/boss (female)

Eres todo mío = You're all mine

Mi rey = My king

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

Chavón = a man that's pestering you

Jodón = pain in the ass

Beyaquito = Little naughty perv

Criticona = critical woman; hypercritical; nit-picker

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

Pórtate bien = Be good/Behave

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

Dios mío misericordioso = Dear merciful God

Tan chingona = Such a badass lady

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

Lindita = little cutie; pretty little girl

Mija = Short for mi hija, aka my daughter; my girl

Prima = Cousin (female)

Puto cabrón = Fucking asshole

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