The bass thrummed through the floorboards, a relentless heartbeat that vibrated up through the soles of Valentina’s heels and into her bones. The house was a sprawling Spanish-style villa in the hills, all terracotta tiles and arched doorways, and tonight it was filled with the city’s young, ambitious, and beautiful. Valentina, with a drink she hadn’t touched in her hand, felt like a ghost at a feast.
She’d been persuaded to come by her cousin, who had promised a night of dancing and distraction. But an hour in, she was nursing a familiar ache of loneliness in a crowded room. Her eyes scanned the faces, a sea of strangers, until they snagged on a figure across the patio.
Javier.
Her heart gave a single, hard thump against her ribs, a sensation she’d spent the better part of a decade trying to forget. He was leaning against a stone pillar, his profile sharp and familiar against the string lights that crisscrossed the night sky. He was laughing at something a friend said, his head tilted back, the long line of his throat exposed. Ten years had only refined him. The boyish softness she remembered had been replaced by the harder, more deliberate lines of a man. His shoulders were broader, his arms, revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of his linen shirt, were corded with a strength he hadn’t possessed in his twenties.
He was her older brother’s best friend. For as long as she could remember, Javier had been a fixture at family barbecues and holiday dinners. He’d been the one to teach her how to ride a bike, the one who’d threatened to beat up a boy who’d broken her heart in high school. To him, she was always just ‘little Valentina,’ his best friend’s kid sister. But to her, he had been the sun around which her adolescent universe revolved. And the crush, that first, potent, all-consuming crush, had never truly died. It had just been buried under years of distance, of life, of trying to convince herself she was over it.
She hadn’t seen him in person in three years. And now, here he was.
As if sensing her gaze, he turned. Their eyes met across the space, and for a moment, the noise of the party faded into a dull roar. His lips parted in surprise, and then a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. It was a smile that reached the warm brown of his eyes, crinkling the corners. He pushed off the pillar and began to walk towards her, his stride confident and unhurried, parting the crowd like a ship through water.
“Valentina,” he said, his voice a low, smooth baritone that sent a shiver dancing down her spine. It was deeper than she remembered. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He stopped just a foot away, and she had to tilt her head up to look at him. He smelled of sandalwood, clean cotton, and something else, something uniquely him, a scent that bypassed her brain and went straight to a primal, animal part of her.
“Javier,” she managed, her own voice sounding breathy and foreign to her ears. “It’s been a while.”
“Too long,” he agreed, his eyes tracing her face as if memorizing it. “You look… incredible, Vale. All grown up.”
The old nickname, ‘Vale,’ made her stomach flutter. She felt a flush creep up her neck. She’d chosen a simple, deep crimson dress that clung to her curves, the silky fabric a cool second skin. She’d felt confident when she’d left the house. Now, under his intense scrutiny, she felt utterly exposed.
“Thank you. You look… well, too.” Maybe that was the most inadequate thing she could have said, but her brain felt like it was short-circuiting.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “Well, that’s a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one.” He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “I always hated these things. Too loud, too many people.”
“You’re the one who’s friends with my brother. He’s the social butterfly.”
“True. But I came here for you.”
The words hung in the air between them, charged and electric. Valentina’s breath hitched. Her heart was a frantic drum solo against her ribs. “What do you mean?”
“I heard from Carlos you’d be in town,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I wanted to see you. Talk to you. Without the family circus for once.”
He reached out and took her hand. His fingers were warm and rough, and a jolt of pure electricity shot up her arm. He didn’t ask, didn’t hesitate. He simply led her away from the party, through a side door, and down a quiet, shadowed hallway. The music from the main room became a muffled, distant pulse.
He pushed open a heavy wooden door, and they stepped into a small study. The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight filtering through a large window. It smelled of old books and leather. It felt like a world away from the chaotic party.
He closed the door behind them, and the click of the latch sounded with incredible finality. The silence that followed was thick, weighted with a decade of unspoken tension.
“Javier, what are we doing?” Valentina whispered, her back pressed against the cool wood of the door. She could feel the heat of his body radiating towards her, even in the cool, dark room.
“I’ve been watching you all night,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. He took a step closer, then another, boxing her in. He braced his hands on the door on either side of her head, his face inches from her own. “I remember you in a sundress and pigtails, running around the backyard. And then I blinked, and you were this stunning woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. It’s a weird, fucked-up thing, Vale, for your best friend’s kid sister to become the one who got away before you even had the chance to try.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “The one who got away?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it,” he said, his voice tight with a decade’s worth of restraint. “All those years. Every time I saw you, it was like a punch in the gut. I stayed away because you were Carlos’s sister. But you’re not a kid anymore.”
His hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were blazing with a fire she’d never seen before. He was looking at her not as a friend’s sister, but as a woman he wanted to devour.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” she echoed, the words a breathless invitation.
That was all the confirmation he needed. He leaned in, and his lips captured hers.
It was not a gentle kiss. It was a claiming. A decade of longing and forbidden desire poured into the way his mouth moved against hers. His lips were firm and demanding, tasting of whiskey and mint. She moaned against his mouth, and her hands, which had been frozen at her sides, flew up to fist in the fine fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
His tongue swept along the seam of her lips, a hot, wet caress that made her knees buckle. She opened for him instantly, and he plunged inside, tasting, exploring, staking his claim. It was a frantic, messy, beautiful kiss, a collision of years of suppressed passion. He tasted like sin and salvation. He tasted like everything she’d ever wanted.
He broke the kiss only to rain a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. She arched her neck, giving him better access, a guttural moan escaping her lips. His teeth grazed her collarbone, and she shivered, her skin erupting in goosebumps.
“Every time I saw you in something low-cut,” he whispered against her skin, his voice a hot, damp breath, “I imagined doing this.” His tongue laved the hollow at the base of her neck, and she cried out, a sharp, involuntary sound. “I imagined tasting you right here.”
His hands moved from the door to her body. They skimmed down her arms, then found the zipper of her dress at the side. With a deliberate, almost agonizing slowness, he pulled it down. The rasp of the zipper was obscenely loud in the quiet room. The silky fabric loosened, and he pushed it down her shoulders.
The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a black lace bra and a matching thong. The cool air hit her overheated skin, and she gasped, but it was not from the cold. It was from the way he was looking at her.
His eyes raked over her body, a slow, deliberate inventory of her curves. He took in the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. His gaze was a physical touch, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
“Dios mío, Vale,” he breathed. “You are a work of art.”
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
The sight of him, this powerful, confident man, kneeling before her, sent a surge of dizzying, heady power through her veins. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with hunger, and then his hands were on her hips, his fingers hooking into the sides of her thong. He pulled it down her legs, and she stepped out of it, her body trembling.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, so close to her core, yet not close enough. She whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sensitive skin. He kissed a path up one thigh and down the other, a slow, torturous exploration that had her on the brink of madness.
“Javier, please,” she begged, her voice a ragged whisper.
“Please what, mi amor?” he murmured, his breath hot against her slick folds. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want… I want your mouth on me.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. His mouth closed over her sex, and a scream tore from her throat. He licked and sucked with a skillful ferocity that stole her breath and her sanity. His tongue traced the length of her slit, swirling around her clit before he drew it into his mouth and suckled gently.
Pleasure, sharp and exquisite, shot through her like lightning. She bucked against his face, her hands flying to his head, her fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair. He groaned against her, the vibration sending another shockwave of pleasure through her. He feasted on her like a starving man, his tongue lapping at her juices, his mouth a hot, wet inferno. He pushed two fingers inside her, curling them upwards to stroke a spot deep within her that made stars explode behind her eyes.
“Oh, God, Javier, yes! Right there!”
The pressure was building, a tight, coiling knot in her lower belly. It was a tidal wave of pleasure, threatening to consume her. He sensed it, and his movements became more urgent, his tongue flicking against her clit in a relentless rhythm while his fingers pumped in and out of her. The dual assault was too much.
“Javier, I’m going to… I’m going to come!” she cried, her voice breaking.
“Come for me, Vale,” he growled against her. “Let go. I want
