Page 18 of Sombra
Top priority after getting out of this car is to find a secret place to finish myself off before I explode.
But as I sit here, my face heats. I’m turned on, not to mention embarrassed. Does Tavo know I’ve just had the female equivalent of a wet dream?
Goodness.
With more crusty eye-blinks, I wake up further. The seatbeltpops undone, but Tavo doesn’t move. Those dancing eyes light on mine, and I try to figure out what he’s thinking—an impossible task.
Even if I knew what he was thinking, does he think in a different language?
Likely.
Would I understand?
Likely not.
I wonder if language gets in the way of true communication?
I’m getting really scared that he knows I’m aroused.Having him this close is throbbingly painful. His lower lip is right there. Is it bad that the first thought I have about his lip is that it’s juicy? I want to bite it. I could just kiss him.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey,” he whispers back. “You’re home.”
Home. I like the idea of Spain being my new home, and my eyes open wider. I tense up my shoulders.
A shake of his headmakes him straighten up, then he pulls back and rights his body outside the car—and I come to my senses.
No.
Hell to the absolute no.Oh my stars, I’m starting to swear.
My brain jangles around while he strides to the back of the car. I’ve forgotten who I am. What I am.
My promise.
Myboyfriend.
I’ve forgotten everything. One plane ride, and I’m suddenlya vamp.
I’m so stupid.
Nausea bubbles up inside my belly. Heat tingles on my face. The ring on my finger now burns with shame.
This isn’t how I behave. I’ve never considered datinganyoneexcept Shane. I’ve only ever been with him.
And I’ve promised to come back to him. Sort of. I guess I never actually said it. But I didn’t deny it.
I hunch down in my seat.Time to forget my sex dream. For once, I’m wishing for the normal kind of naked dreams—the stressed-out, nightmare, pre-finals variety. Like, where I have to give a speech to the whole auditorium, but I’ve forgotten my notes, and I’m standing there trying to remember what to say. No clothes on means no pockets for my outline.
Moving on.
I suppress a yawn, not wanting to be rude,and step out of the car, then observe my surroundings.
This place is incredible!
The golden afternoon sunshine bathes the property in appealing light. We’re parked in front of a set of ancient buildings surrounded by silvery-gray olive trees. A door opens on the closest building, a rambling two-story stone house, and a hundred million people emerge. More or less, anyway.
Will they like me?
