Page 7 of The Lies Always Told

“Promise,” she replies. Her eyes dance playfully while she awaits my reply.

Who am I kidding? As if there was ever another answer than yes. I shake my head and give her my hand. “You’re so much trouble.”

“The best kind.” She drags me out of the VIP booth, her hand tangled with mine, and walks us to a dark corner far away from our friends and the ounce of clarity I may have had before this moment.

THREE

TROUBLE

Lollipop by Lil Wayne&Tarot by Bad Bunny & JHAYCO

Nellie

This club has been playing reallyupbeat songs all night but then switched drastically to a slow and soulful song I adore. I had to stand up and dance. I’m thankful Gus decided to join me, because this song is better with a partner. I took dance lessons growing up, but as I got older and my academics took precedence, I found a new relationship with music and dancing. I used to dance for an audience in a studio. Little girl, big tutu, glitter all over my face and hair, perfectly polished and put together—that was my life. As the years went by, I lost interest in being the perfect ballerina. I found that my connection to music is more of an outlet than a skilled performance. It’s a way for me to give my brain the dopamine it’s seeking while moving my body and creating art, even if it’s just for me. Now, when I’m lonely, sad, happy, emotional, excited, or evenangry, dancing is what my brain and my body both rely on for me to settle. That, and swimming.

This song was made for slow dancing in the corner of a crowded room, so that’s exactly where I lead us. The last person I was expecting to see in this club was Gus Zabana. It even took me a good while to realize who he was. It’s been years since I last saw him. He was always around while I was growing up, but my interest in romance didn’t start until I was eighteen, and I don’t think I saw him around then or after. I really don’t remember noticing he was this hot. I was too focused on school and all the shit I was going through in my teens to look at anyone with desire, but when I finally did, when I finally noticed how good it felt, there was no stopping it. I’m kind of glad I never noticed this man before, because I don’t think I would have been able to keep my hands off him, damn the consequences.

We move together to the beat, my hands wrapped around his neck and his hands solidly on my hips. The height difference between us means he has to bend to place his head by mine. And he does, burying his nose in my neck, my nipples pebbling against his chest. He stops moving as soon as he feels my body’s reaction; I’m sure he can because of the goosebumps on his neck, right under my fingertips.

I bring my mouth to the shell of his ear and say, “No thinking, just feeling.”

I turn around, grinding my ass against him and tilting my head back to rest in the crook of his neck. His face is still so close to mine, and when I drag my hand up to cup his cheek the subtle stubble on his chin scrapes my hands. I couldn’t tell before with his brown skin, but there’s a faint line where his beard would be. He smells like something citrusy and woodsy, like sandalwood and ginger. Mysterious and fresh. Dangerous and exciting. Forbidden and spicy.

I wonder what his strong hands could do if he had the chance, or what his lips would feel like on mine. I wonder howhis hard dick would feel buried deep within me. As if he can hear my thoughts, he groans at every roll of my hips. What would it take to get him to show me what those hands can do?

The beat never changes. It’s slow, sensual, seductive, and dirty all at once, and I take advantage of the moment to let him feel every inch of me. His hands don’t move from my hips, even though with every brush of my ass against his dick, he grows harder, his fingers digging into my hip bones, his breath hitching. His pulse quickens under my touch, and I take everything as indication that he’s as turned on as I am. I glide my fingers down his arms and peel his hands from my hips, intertwining my fingers with his. I hold tight and slowly drag his hands up my body.

If I thought he was breathing hard before, I didn’t actually know what he could sound like on the edge. His breathing deepens the higher I drag his hands, and I don’t stop. I slow down. I want to feel his fingertips climbing every inch of my abdomen. I want to move against him painfully slow. If he won’t take me back to his hotel room tonight, at least we’ll both leave here hot and bothered. I’ll make sure of it.

Our hands brush dangerously close to my breast, but I guide his thumb over my sternum, touching the bare skin revealed by the deep-V of my dress. He hisses as I trace small circles, guiding his index finger down my chest and under my breasts.

“Nellie,” he whispers, his warm breath against my ear, but this time, his voice is raspy, with a hint of agony, as if it pains him to touch me.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, moving my hips at the same time I guide his finger to brush the edge of my breasts, sliding up slowly, under the fabric of my dress, barely touching my skin, just enough to make myself moan at the welcomed touch.

I wait for his reply, holding both our fingers merely an inch away from my nipple, and when he doesn’t, I continue. “I’ll stop if you want me to stop, Gus, but if you close your eyes and forget for a minute that our parents are friends, that you’re older than me, that our sisters are practically sisters, you can let yourself feel good. If you just close your eyes and breathe, give yourself permission to feel…what would you want me to do?” I move my hips, following the beat of the song. My hands betray the confidence in my voice as they shake slightly keeping his hands in place. All I want is to let his big hands cover my small breasts.

“What’s it going to be, Augusto? Are you going to let yourself feel, or am I stopping right now and walking away?”

He shakes his head against mine as he whispers, “Don’t call me that.” His voice is gruff and raspy, and I think I lost the battle. I won’t do something he doesn’t want to do, no matter how much I want it. But then he moves his hands up, dragging mine along, touching my needy nipples.

“How much trouble do you want to get into tonight?” I manage to say between a moan and a gasp. People aren’t paying attention to what anyone else is doing, but it still feels a little salacious.

“Fuck, Nellie. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” The brush of his lips against the skin between my ear and my neck makes me shiver. “I want all the trouble you’re willing to get into with me.”

I press myself harder against him, feeling the heat of his breath against my neck. He walks us back until he hits a wall, never moving his fingers away from my nipples or his mouth from my neck. He nips into my neck at first, then opens his mouth and sucks while he pinches my nipples, forcing the tips of my fingers to rub against my breasts too.

“Oh,” I let out, breathy, on the verge of snapping. It’s taking every ounce of control and self-preservation I have not to turn around and ask him to fuck me right here. I’m also enjoying every single minute, every single second of his hands and mouth on me.

The song shifts, and instead of throwing cold water on this situation, it only intensifies the feelings. This song is even sexier. I don’t know this one, but when Gus starts singing in my ear, I realize why. It’s a song in Spanish, and this man is singing every lyric as his dick presses against my ass, his fingers relentlessly pinching my nipples. I’m so turned on, if he were to slide those delicious fingers under my skirt, he would find me soaked, and I contemplate telling him exactly that. But if I’m going to get Gus to forget about the complications back home, I need him all to myself, not in this crowded room.

I squeeze his hands, signaling for him to stop, and he does immediately. He tenses against me, waiting for my consent to keep touching me. I don’t give it to him, though. I just turn around slowly, look him in the eyes, and lower my gaze to his full lips. I rest my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast, noticing the small droplets of sweat forming around the collar of his black shirt.

I lift to the tip of my toes, bring my mouth next to his ear, and whisper, “You could keep touching me, Gus, but soon, I’m going to need your hands in places that could land us in jail for public indecency. So I need you to make a decision, right now.” I bring my teeth to his ear lobe and bite gently before saying, “If you touch me again, I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to kiss you and take every bit you’re willing to give me. If I kiss you, I’m going to need you to tell your friends not to go to your hotel room tonight—or better yet, take me somewhere new. If you do that, I’m going to need you to fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

I let my words hang in the air and wait for his reply. He doesn’t give any. He also doesn’t settle his hands back on my body. He just stands there, not dancing, not moving, not touching. I use the last weapon in my arsenal and smooth my hand down his chest to grab his dick over his jeans. He’s hard, I can feel it. He’s been hard, and I know he must be aching forrelief, just as I am. I bite his earlobe again, earning me a shudder.

“Are you going to touch me, Gus? Or am I going to have to go home alone and touch myself? Tick, tock, tick, tock,” I say slowly against his ear, and that’s when I feel his control snap. His hands dig into my hips and around my ass, slamming my pelvis against his and squeezing tight.

---