CHAPTER EIGHT
Gabe
Anticipation pumps through my body as I take the elevator up to CeCe’s apartment. A smile tugs at my lips, recalling the first time I came here to find her ass up, digging for a purse.
Who would have thought I’d be back here picking her up for a date? I sure as hell didn’t but the pretentious girl I met two weeks ago has gotten under my skin like no other. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her or the night we shared. A night that will forever be ingrained into my memory.
I have a feeling I’ve barely scratched the surface of finding out who she really is but I plan to keep digging until I know every single thing there is to know about her.
It’s become somewhat of an obsession, which is damn scary because I don’t obsess over women. I’m a play-the-field kind of guy. It’s easier that way, especially with my job, but there’s something about Blondie that draws me in. I can’t figure out what the hell it is, because the truth is we are completely different. We were raised differently, come from different ends of the spectrum. Things that matter to her don’t matter to me, yet for a girl I have nothing in common with, I can’t help but imagine her in my world.
Coming to a stop at her apartment, I knock loudly; that rat dog of hers yapping behind the door.
“Easy, Pep. It’s okay, boy.”
The door swings open, revealing the beautiful woman that consumes my every thought. I barely notice the dog she cradles because my focus is only on her and the pink-gold shimmering dress she wears. A dress that shows off her mile-long legs, stopping at the top of her slender thighs and showing off every single curve she possesses. Her long blonde hair cascades down her shoulders, accentuating the low-cut dress that shows just the right amount of cleavage.
My mouth waters, remembering the way those creamy mounds filled my hands and tasted against my tongue.
“Oh, hey there,” she greets, feigning surprise. “What brings you by?”
The biggest smartass I’ve ever met and for some reason I fucking love it. “I’m here to pick up the sassy girl who lives here and take her out for dinner.”
“You mean the dinner I never agreed to?”
“You sure as hell look like you’re ready to go out with me.” The remark is delivered on a growl, my eyes traveling down the length of her again.
“What, this old thing?” She acknowledges the outfit with a flick of her hand. “This is my usual Wednesday night attire. Pep and I have big plans to hang out here tonight.”
My blood heats with the need to claim her feisty mouth. “Get your pretty ass out here, Blondie, and let me take you to dinner.”
She cocks a hip. “Anyone ever tell you how charming you are?”
“Anyone ever tell you what a pain in the ass you are?”
“Nope, but that’s because I save this special attitude just for you.”
I grunt. “Lucky me.”
“I know.”
I smirk, waiting for her to step out into the hallway because we both know she’s going to.
She gives me a dramatic eye roll. “Fine, you win. You can take me out.” Pressing a kiss to her dog’s head, she says her good-bye to him then steps out of the apartment but not without retrieving her monster of a purse. She turns her back on me as she locks the door, revealing the backless dress, her flawless skin calling to me.
The moment she turns around, I pull her into my arms and take her mouth like I’ve been dying to. She melts against me, her arms winding around my neck as she lets out the sexiest noise that has my blood pumping hotter—faster.
I’m about to say to hell with dinner and blow through her apartment door when the sound of muffled chuckles breaks up our heated moment. We look to the left and find two young teenage boys enjoying the show we unintentionally put on.
“Unbelievable,” Cece mutters. “Come on.” Grabbing my hand, she pulls me behind her, shooting a glare at the boys. “Put your eyes back in your heads!” she snaps, stomping into the elevator.
Once the door closes, I glance her way. “A little harsh, Blondie, don’t you think?”
She scoffs. “Hardly, those little jerks are perverts. Every time I turn around they are spying on me. They even had the audacity to try peeking up my dress in this very elevator.”
My body coils tight at the thought. Now I want to go back and slap the hell out of the little shits.
“Anyway,” she says, dismissing the moment with a hand through the air. “Where are we going for dinner?”
I lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest. “To the best Mexican restaurant in the state of Georgia.”
She lifts a brow. “Is that so?”
“Yep, owned by family.”
“You own a restaurant?” she asks, her surprise evident.
“Not me, my aunt and uncle.”
“Huh,” she muses then shrugs. “I’ll try it.”
My eyes hold hers. “Try it? What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve never had authentic Mexican. The closest I’ve ever had to it is Taco Bell when I was on my late night drinking binges back in high school.”
I gape at her, unbelieving the shit she’s spewing. “First of all, Taco Bell is not fucking Mexican. So get that out of your head now. And secondly, you got authentic the other night and loved it so I’m sure you will again.”
She gives me that famous eye roll of hers but I don’t miss the heat embedded in them. “Whatever, Romeo, quit flattering yourself.” Flicking her hair, she walks off the elevator, each dip of her hips in that dress taunting me.
It’s going to be a long fucking dinner.
We make small talk on the drive over to the restaurant, mainly discussing the fire that took place at her apartment. Turns out it was started by someone falling asleep with a cigarette in their hand, one of the most common causes for house fires. That and people leaving on their curling irons. So much destruction caused by something easily avoidable.
CeCe’s easy demeanor changes when I pull into the restaurant’s parking lot, her eyes scanning the older run-down area the building resides in. Probably because she has never stepped foot in this part of town.
“Is it safe here?” she asks, a sliver of unease in her voice.
“You’re always safe with me.”
Her head turns, eyes softening, but there’s still uncertainty in them.
“Poor people live around here, CeCe. Not criminals.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispers.
She did but it’s something I’m used to and she’s not the only person to think like this. Many do. I wonder what she would think if she knew I grew up in this area.
Shoving the thought aside, I climb out of my truck and stride around to let her out. My fingers curl around hers as we walk into the restaurant, and I can’t deny how right it feels to do something as simple as holding her hand.
Jesus, I’m fucking losing it.
The place is packed as usual. Music pours from the speakers and colorful lights are strung across the ceiling, bringing the place to a glow. The atmosphere is loud and friendly.
My uncle Hector spots us right away and comes striding over. “If it isn’t my favorite boy,” he bellows, pulling me into a firm hug. He’s always been more of a father to me than an uncle, mainly because mine is a piece of shit.
“Hey, Tio, good to see you.”
“You too.” His beefy hand gives my shoulder a few hard slaps before releasing me. “And who’s this?” he asks, his gaze shifting to CeCe.
My arm curls around her waist as I introduce her. “This is CeCe, the girl I told you I was bringing for dinner.”
CeCe extends her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
My uncle waves away the gesture. “To hell with that. We hug in this family.” He yanks her into the same hard embrace he gave me, squeezing the breath out of her.
I chuckle at the way she pats his back awkwardly.
Uncle Hector steps back, looking her over. “What the hell is someone as pretty as you doin’ with the likes of him?” he asks, jerking his head in my direction.
“I’m still trying to figure that out myself.” Her eyes dart to mine, a saucy smile teasing her lips.
He finds her as funny as she finds herself, his boisterous laugh echoing through the whole damn restaurant. “I like her. Beautiful and sassy.”
He’s got that right.
A moment later my aunt Camila rounds the corner, her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. “My handsome mijo.” Boy. She flings herself at me, kissing each cheek. No doubt leaving her bright red lipstick for the world to see.
“Hey, Tia.”
She dismisses me quickly and moves for CeCe, cradling her face between her hands. “Oh you are gorgeous. Look how beautiful she is, Hector.”
“She’s a beaut all right,” my uncle agrees.
CeCe gives the best smile she can manage with her face squished between two hands.
“Beautiful but skinny.”
“Tia,” I growl, not bothering to hide my irritation.
She throws her hands up innocently. “What? She is.” Her attention returns to CeCe as she pats her shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. By the time you leave here you’ll have a few more pounds on ya.”
I dart a look at my uncle for help.
“All right, leave the girl be, Camila. Come,” he says, gesturing for us to follow. “I saved you a table in the back corner.”
Grabbing CeCe’s hand, I drop a kiss on my aunt’s cheek then follow my uncle. “Sorry about that. People in my family speak without thinking,” I say, feeling the need to apologize.
She shrugs, not seeming all that offended. “Could have been worse. She could have told me I needed to lose a few pounds.”
I grunt. “Trust me, that is not something you’ll ever hear from the women in my family, but either way, you’re perfect the way you are.”
The smile that dances across her lips tells me it was the right thing to say.
My uncle pulls out her chair before I can. “What can I get you to drink?” he asks. “Camila makes a mean margarita.”
“A margarita sounds great. Thank you.”
He shifts his attention to me next. “The usual?”
I nod.
“One Modelo and one margarita coming up.”
Once he walks away, CeCe opens her menu, scanning over the several pages. I don’t bother to open mine because I always get the same thing.
“I have no idea what any of this is.”
I shake my head, still having a hard time comprehending that. “How have you lived in this city your whole life and never eaten Mexican food?”
She shrugs. “We didn’t eat out much as a family and if we did it was at the country club.”
Figures. She probably grew up eating meals that cost more than my whole month’s salary.
“What do you recommend?” she asks.
“Flautas,” my aunt answers, coming up to our table. She places our drinks down in front of us along with a basket of chips and salsa. “You can never go wrong with flautas.”
“All right then, I’ll have that,” CeCe says, closing the menu.
My aunt takes both booklets, slipping them under her arm. “And I already know mi mijo will have his favorite. Tostadas de tinga.” She gives my cheek a hard love tap before walking off.
CeCe leans over the table and gives me a slap on the other cheek. “Mi mijo.” She doesn’t even pronounce the words right but laughs her ass off anyway.
I grunt, not the least bit amused.
Her sexy lips close around her straw while she takes a sip of her drink. My cock hardens behind my zipper as I imagine those lips wrapped around my—
“Do you have a big family?” she asks.
Clearing my throat, I sit up in my chair, needing to alleviate the pressure within my jeans. “Four brothers, nine aunts and uncles, and don’t even ask how many cousins.”
“Four brothers?” she squeaks.
I nod.
“No sisters?”
“None.”
Thank god. I had to grow up around hormonal female cousins, that was enough for me.
“Your poor mother, especially if they are anything like you,” she throws out the jab with a teasing tone.
“I’m her favorite.”
She rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her. “How old are your brothers?”
“Twenty-four, twenty-one, eighteen, and sixteen.”
“You’re the oldest?”
“And the wisest.”
It earns me one of her pretty smiles. “What does your mother do?”
“Cleans houses and helps out here from time to time. She’s also in the middle of getting her degree to be a teacher.”
“Wow,” she says, impressed. “She sounds like the definition of supermom.”
“She is.”
I respect no one more than my mother, and I’m glad that after all she sacrificed for us that I am able to put her through school so she can do what she has always wanted to do.
“What about your father?”
My muscles tense, hate boiling in my blood.
She winces, her expression softening. “Sore subject?”
“More like off limits,” I say, managing to keep the bite out of my tone.
“Got it.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Any siblings?”
“Nope. Only child.”
The information doesn’t surprise me one bit.
“Most of the time it was great. I got my parents’ love and affection all to myself, especially my father’s,” she tells me, a wistful smile claiming her lips. “But I grew up with my best friend, Emily, who’s an only child too and we’ve always been more like sisters. So I wasn’t completely alone.”
“And what about your boutique?”
“What about it?”
“How long have you owned it?”
“Almost three years, and it’s doing better than I ever imagined,” she says, beaming with pride.
She should be proud. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this restaurant, it’s that owning your own business isn’t easy. To be so young and successful is admirable but it doesn’t surprise me, not when it comes to her. You can tell she’s driven in every aspect of her life.
“I’m actually in the middle of trying to expand. I have a meeting with the bank early tomorrow morning for a loan to start a men’s line. If you’re nice, maybe I’ll let you model for me.”
“No fucking thank you.”
My less than enthused response has her cracking into laughter, the beautiful melody making me feel things, foreign things.
“What about the name?” I ask. “Why Kensington Palace?”
Her expression softens, a pain darkening her light irises. “My father always called me princess and said our home was my palace.” She shrugs but I don’t miss the hard swallow she takes. “It’s my way of having a piece of him in the store. He died before he was able to see it.”
The memory of us in front of the flower shop surfaces as I recall the way she practically flinched when I called her a princess. Now I feel like the biggest dick ever.
“How did he die?”
I regret asking the question when the pain in her eyes deepens.
“How about both fathers are off limits tonight?” she says.
I lift my beer, tilting the bottle toward her. “Fair enough, Bella.”
Her eyes narrow in annoyance. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Call me by the wrong name? Are you wanting a chip to fly at your face?”
Smirking, I rub my jaw and decide to take pity on her lack of knowledge. “When I call you Bella it’s another way of calling you beautiful, in Spanish.”
“Oh.” She clears her throat and peers back at me sheepishly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I flunked Spanish.”
I chuckle and refrain from saying that I more than noticed.
“Wait a second,” she speaks again, her eyes narrowing. “You called me Bella that day outside of the flower shop when we were fighting.”
“So?”
“So that means you thought I was beautiful even then.”
I grunt. “I thought you were beautiful that first night when I found your half naked ass pointed up in the air while you were saving that damn purse. Ridiculous but beautiful.”
An emotion passes over her face, one that has her smile vanishing. “All right, Fireboy. It’s time for the moment of truth.”
I cock a brow.
“That damn purse was the last gift my father gave me,” she says. “It’s engraved with his love, and I wasn’t going to leave it behind.”
Guilt twists my stomach into a vicious knot as I realize how wrong I’ve been about her.
Holding her gaze, I rest back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Okay. I admit it. I’m an asshole. I misjudged you and the situation.”
She lifts her chin. “Yes, you did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“But…”
Her back straightens. “What do you mean, ‘but?’ You can’t end an apology with a but.”
My elbows rest on the table as I lean in closer. “I get why you didn’t want to leave that purse behind. But that item means nothing if you’re dead.”
The thought of what could have happened to her if the fire were more serious makes me physically sick. I’ve seen what a charred body looks like and it’s something I hope to never see again, especially hers.
“Promise me, you won’t ever do that again, CeCe. There is nothing more important than your life, and I have a feeling your father would say the same thing to you if he were here.”
“He would,” she admits on a whisper.
“Does that mean I have your word?”
“Do I still have your apology for being a judgmental ass?”
I smirk. “Of course.”
“Good, because you were. But since you gave me seven orgasms the other night, you’re forgiven.”
I have every intention of breaking that damn record. I’d love nothing more than to eat her pussy all night just to see her fall apart repeatedly.
“Tell me, Blondie. How the hell are you still single?”
It’s something I’ve been wondering about a lot. She’s beautiful, successful, and has a mouth that could make any man hard.
“Why are you still single?” she asks, insulted by the question.
“Because I wasn’t looking to settle down.”
“And now?” she asks, quirking a brow.
“I’m not opposed to the idea if I met the right woman.”
“Same,” she says.
I shake my head. “That’s my excuse, what’s yours?”
Long seconds pass before she gives in and answers. “Because most of the time I don’t put myself out there. The boutique keeps me busy and whenever I have been set up I’ve been stuck listening to guys talk about themselves while staring at my boobs all night.” She shrugs but it’s obviously a sore subject. “Not quite the fairytale I’m looking for.”
“You do have great boobs though,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Keep your eyes on my face, Fireboy, and tonight will go just fine.”
“Trust me, that’s not hard to do with a face like yours.”
A shy smile steals her lips. “That was smooth.”
“I’m half Puerto Rican and half Mexican, baby. We’re smooth motherfuckers.”
Her beautiful laughter fills the air but it fades quickly. “I’m not surprised to hear that. After our night together, I figured you were.”
A frown pulls at my face. “What does that mean?”
She shrugs. “I’m just saying by our night together I assume it’s a regular occurrence for you.”
I stare back at her, not liking where this is going. “Are you really wanting to know how many girls I’ve been with, CeCe?” The thought makes me cringe. Not because I can’t keep track but that isn’t a topic of conversation I care to have with her, especially while on a date.
Sighing, she shakes her head, almost seeming frustrated with herself. “No. I don’t. I’m sorry; I’m not saying this right. This is about me. I feel the need to clarify something.”
“By all means. Just say it.”
Her attention remains on her drink as she stirs it with her straw. “I just wanted you to know that, regardless of my actions the other night, I don’t sleep around.”
“I never thought for a second that you did.”
“Good. I just wanted to be clear about that.” She continues to avoid eye contact as she takes another sip of her drink.
“CeCe, look at me.”
Her lashes sweep up, eyes meeting mine, and the insecurity there is not something I’m used to seeing when it comes to her.
“I asked you out tonight because I want to have dinner with you. Not for any other reason.” I hold her gaze, willing her to see the truth. “I want your company, and I want to get to know you. Got it?”
“Got it,” she says, giving a hard nod. “But for the record, we can totally fuck after this. Just throwing that out there.”
My chuckle trails into a pained groan.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
Leaning in, I keep my voice low. “As much as I’d love to bury myself inside of you again, Bella, after we leave here I’m going to drive you home, kiss that tempting mouth of yours goodnight, then ask you out on another date. That’s it.”
I’d be lying if I hadn’t hoped for our night to end with us in bed but I refuse to now. As much as I love touching her, I also respect the hell out of her, and I will make sure she knows it before I ever touch her again.
“You’re starting to make me not hate you so much,” she says, her expression soft.
“Good, because as much as I love the way we hate each other, I’m starting to like you.”
The smile I’m rewarded with is worth the pain my cock will feel tonight when I leave her.
The moment is interrupted when my aunt brings our meals. We waste no time digging in, and satisfaction fills me over the way CeCe moans with every bite she takes, but it also wreaks havoc on my good intentions.
Our conversation continues over dinner. She talks a bit about her mom and all the traveling she does then tells me more about the aspirations she has for the men’s line while I talk about my job and how much I love firefighting. It’s easy—comfortable even—and before we know it, three hours pass and there are only a few customers remaining. That’s when we decide to call it a night, even though the last thing I want to do is say good-bye to her.
Before leaving, we bid my aunt and uncle good-bye then step outside into the humid night.
“Okay, I’ll admit it, that was some of the best food I’ve ever had. My margaritas were a—maz—ing,” she sings.
A chuckle escapes me as I watch her wobble in the fuck-me heels she wears.
She tosses me a look over her shoulder, her eyes slightly glazed from the drinks she had. “Something funny, Fireboy?”
The sassy remark puts me in motion. Curling an arm around her waist, I pull her in for a kiss, needing to touch her…
Taste her.
Her hands move to the edge of my shirt, slipping beneath the material. The skin-on-skin contact rocks me to the fucking core.
“You sure you don’t want to rethink this no sex thing?” she murmurs against my mouth.
“You’re fucking with my good intentions, Blondie.”
“Good, because I like it when you’re bad.”
Groaning, I reluctantly pull my mouth away, my gaze transfixed on her swollen, parted lips. My eyes close, forehead resting against hers while I try to find my control. Once I open them, her hazel irises punch me in the chest.
“I want you more than you’ll ever know, but I’m going to keep my word and end it here.”
“Fine, be a gentleman,” she grumbles.
My hands move to the side of her face, holding her in place. “Make no mistake, CeCe. I have every intention of losing myself in your warm body again… Just not tonight.”
“I guess that means I’ll be seeing you?” She voices it as a statement but it comes out more like a question.
“Yeah, Bella. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other,” I promise.
“Cool, I’ll have a chat with Pep and see about fitting you into our busy schedule,” she says, with a teasing smile.
Shaking my head, I deliver a slap on her bottom. “Get in the truck, smart ass, so I can kiss you again at your door.”
She complies to my demand, her giggle floating through the air as I open the door for her.
On the drive back to her apartment I have a hard time keeping my eyes off her, especially her long toned legs that are crossed over in my direction. The memory of what they felt like wrapped around my hips is absolute torture.
Once we arrive at her complex, I walk her up to her door just like I promised and do my best to keep myself in check. Something she challenges by the sultry look she shoots me. “Did you change your mind by chance and want to come in?”
Taking a step forward, I press her against the door. “No, but I think I might fuck this mouth instead.”
Dipping my head, I take her lips possessively, making them mine, laying a claim I don’t intend to let go of any time soon. She clamors to get closer, our tongues tangling, fighting for dominance, but in the end, I win.
My stiff cock presses into her stomach, showing her just how hard it will be to walk away from her tonight. Miraculously, I summon enough control to pull away, but not before dropping a final kiss to her cheek.
“Night, Bella.”
By the time I make it on the elevator, I see she’s still standing at her door, her mouth parted, needy breaths making her chest rise and fall. Just before the door closes, I flash her a smirk, the promise of more to come very soon.