Page 25 of Seven Days

“I didn’t realize you were fluent in Spanish.” I lead her through a small crowd gathered around a street performer.

“Yes, it was honestly harder than I thought it would be to learn in college. Mom spoke Portuguese to me as much as Dad spoke English so I grew up bilingual. But the two languages are surprisingly different. No offense, but I’m surprised at how fluent you are.”

I shrug. “Growing up in southern California will do that to you.”

“I grew up in the same place and plenty of people around me never cared to learn another language.” She raises her eyebrows at me.

“My childhood best friend’s parents were migrant workers. I spent as much time with him and his family as I did my own. It rubs off when you’re getting yelled at in a different language.”

“Where are you from?” she asks with a frown. “I never thought to ask before.”

“Outside of San Diego.” I lean in to whisper in her ear. “And you never thought to ask because we were never fucking before.”

She playfully shoves me away as we keep walking along the marina and chatting. She points out a little restaurant with a deck overlooking the water and suggests dinner there. We end up at a perfect table, overlooking the water and watching sailboats and yachts go by.

“That seems fun.” She points at a catamaran cutting through the water. “I've always wanted to spend a day laying on the deck of one of those.”

We chat for a few more minutes before the server comes to take our drinks order. When Bri excuses her to use the restroom I call the server back over and ask for the best catamaran tour company. She rattles off a few names and I call the first I see with a high rating. Before Bri is even back from the restroom, I’ve reserved a private tour for tomorrow. It probably cost three times what it normally would have, being so last minute, but a black card talks more than a hundred gold cards do.

“I think it’s going to be hard to walk away from this,” Bri says as we’re finishing our after dinner drinks.

“Mexico?”

“No.” She gives me a sassy side eye. “Us.”

“Do we have to walk away?” I ask cautiously.

“Yes. Dad would flip his shit and you know it.”

She’s not wrong. But this feels so right.

“What if we extended the terms? Maybe the entire summer until you go back to school?”

“I can’t live in your house for the summer.”

“Maybe not my Palos Verdes house, but you could live in my Venice Beach house. If you just accept the gift, I could spend the weekends with you.”

Visions of us together in that house fill my head. Taking walks up and down the boardwalk. Finding all the little hidden gems tucked in the neighborhood. Saturday mornings at the farmers market and lazy Sunday mornings in bed.

“Thomas.” She sighs. “I can’t. I can’t be your kept woman.”

“Fine. I’ll have a rental contract drawn up and you can pay me rent.” I’ll make it one dollar, but it’ll still be contractually sound.

“I’m sure you’d have me underpaying.”

“Absolutely I would. But guess what? I have more money than I’ll ever be able to spend on my own. I could quit working today and still afford my current lifestyle. Money isn’t an issue for me so why don’t you let me take care of you in whatever way I can?”

“Because you’re not my boyfriend. You’re not my fiancé or husband. Even then, I wouldn’t feel right just spending all your money frivolously.” She tosses back the rest of her margarita and stands, dropping her napkin on the table. “We’re just a fling.”

We both stew in anger on the way back to the house. As soon as the front door closes behind us, I push her against the wall with my body. Her eyes flash with anger even as her pelvis rubs against mine, seeking some way to ease the ache I know she feels without me inside her.

“Since we’re just a fling, you won’t mind me fucking you like one, will you?” I challenge her.

Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine as she grits out, “Do your worst.”

I push her down to her knees before she even finishes. My cock throbs against the metal bite of the zipper holding it back from the warmth of her mouth. She tears my pants open and yanks me out, roughly running her fist over my length.

I push past her lips as soon as they part, wincing at the dark pleasure of her teeth scraping against me. If my siren wants it rough, I’ll fucking give it to her rough. I stop her movements around me by gripping both sides of her face.

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