Page 29 of El Diablo (The Devil 1)

  I was alone.

  “Alejandro!” I shouted, thinking maybe he was nearby, showering or watching me sleep.

  Silence.

  My eyes went to the bedside table, hoping to find a note. He didn’t leave one. I took a deep breath, laying back into the mattress, craving to feel him in any way I could. Needing his touch. I didn't want the feel of his hands all over me, and everything that happened between us the night before, to go away. Finally, being able to lay in his arms. I instinctively reached for my neck, softly touching the tender flesh lying beneath my fingers.

  Letting my mind wander to the erotic images of last night. Each and every touch, every moan was engrained into my soul. I never let anyone close to me, not like I did with him. Nothing Alejandro did to me in bed brought back the memories of the monster I’d lived with all those years.

  I smiled.

  My stomach fluttering, my pussy throbbing just at the mere thought of his hands and mouth on me. I reached for my lips, softly brushing my fingers over them, remembering the way he claimed my mouth. Making me taste my sweet arousal. It was the most surreal, erotic, experience of all my life. I couldn’t wait to do it again.

  With him.

  I knew he probably needed some space with all of the conflicting emotions tearing into him. This was all new for him as well. I didn’t care that he had left me here alone, I had made my way into his cold heart, and dark soul. I was embedded in there, whether he wanted me to be or not.

  Only his.

  As much as I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed, his room, his space, I knew I had no choice. The Head Master of ABT wanted to talk to me. I’d been in such a hurry to get home to him on Friday that I promised I would come in Sunday for a meeting. I reluctantly got up, going straight into my room to get ready. It was no longer a space I felt comfortable in, already wanting to go back to his room where I felt his energy all around me. It didn’t take long to get ready, throwing on some clothes, foregoing a shower.

  I didn’t want to wash off his scent, just yet.

  The limo drove me to the academy with my usual brigade of bodyguards surrounding me. I didn’t mind, it was another way of Martinez showing feelings, keeping me safe at all costs. I spent the entire ride looking out the tinted windows, thinking about him.

  What he was doing? What he was thinking? How he felt after last night? What would change between us now? I had more questions than I ever did before with less answers.

  This didn’t change just one thing.

  It changed everything.

  Exactly how I hoped it would.

  “Come in,” I heard the Head Master call out from her office, breaking me away from my thoughts.

  Her assistant led me in, shutting the door behind me.

  “Lexi, I was wondering when you would make it in,” Michelle greeted, nodding for me to take a seat in front of her desk.

  “I’m sorry, I got held up this morning,” I apologized, trying like hell to control the flush of my skin. Thinking of the reason why I was late. Martinez’s tongue working its magic, the kissing, the nipping… I shook my head, clearing my throat. Willing the visions to stop playing in my head. Now was not the time to be fantasizing about him.

  “No worries. You’re here now.”

  I smiled, taking a seat, crossing one leg over the other.

  “So, I’m just going to get right to the point.”

  “Okay.”

  “There’s a job opening at The Royal Ballet in England. And it’s pretty much yours, if you want it.”

  I lowered my eyebrows, stunned. “What?” I nervously laughed. “How?”

  “Lexi, I’ve never seen talent like yours. You were born to dance. It’s in your blood. It’s who you are. I don’t want to hold you back, you need to soar, honey. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. One that I think you would regret not accepting.”

  I didn’t say anything. I honestly didn’t know what to say. Or even where to start. I just sat there staring at her dumbfounded, in awe of the news. I never expected this, not in a million years. I never thought studying or working abroad would be an option for me.

  “You’ve told me yourself, you don’t have anyone. You have no reason to stay here, nothing to hold you back from this extraordinary opportunity. Can you imagine what it would be like to live in England, Lexi? Dancing? Living the dream that other ballerinas would kill for. Out of every dancer in the U.S…they want you, Lexi.”

  “Right…” my voice cracked. I was in shock, unable to form a coherent thought.

  She frowned, cocking her head to the side. “I was expecting a much more elated response. I mean—”

  “No, I’m just… it’s just… wow…” I stuttered, unable to find the words. “I guess I’m just taken by surprise. They want me?”

  “Honey, you work your ass off. There have been nights I don’t think you even went home and slept. You live and breathe ballet. That is the dedication these places look for. You’re in your prime, sweetheart. This shouldn’t be a surprise. It should be an honor.”

  “Oh no! I know. I am. I can’t even begin to thank you. It’s just been an overwhelming weekend. That’s all.”

  “With Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome?” she questioned, wiggling her eyebrows. I smiled and let out a little laugh.

  I never asked Michelle why I was permitted to take so much time off. What the academy was told. Letting it slide, just in case they changed their minds if I brought it up.

  “He’s definitely easy on the eyes,” she added.

  “You have no idea,” I scoffed, bowing my head, finding the heat spreading across my cheeks.

  “When he came to see me about your job—”

  “Wait, he came and saw you? Personally, talked to you?” I interrupted.

  “Yes, I assumed you knew. The morning after your big performance, I got a phone call from Mr. Martinez, wanting a meeting in regards to you. It sounded urgent, so I met with him that evening. He let me know you’d been hurt, and needed some time off to recover. He was very concerned for you, Lexi. I didn’t think twice about it, I told him you could take as much time as you needed. I’ve never seen you with him, I assume whatever you had is over?”

  My hand instinctively went to my throat. “Yeah… I mean it’s complicated,” I stated. My mind trying to wrap around what Michelle had just informed.

  “Is it going somewhere? Your relationship with him?”

  “I am not sure, as I said it’s complicated.” I shrugged in response.

  She leaned over her desk with her hands out in front of her. “Well, then, honey. I would make damn sure because an opportunity like this,” she paused, eyeing me, “won’t come again.”

  “Thank you so much for everything, Michelle. Can you give me a few days?”

  “I can give you until the end of the week. They need someone over there effective immediately.”

  “Okay.” I stood, opening the door to leave.

  “And, Lexi?”

  I turned.

  “Sometimes your heart can be wrong.”

  I nodded, leaving. Whispering to myself, “I hope not.”

  It was like one thing after another. I went from having nothing, to possibly having everything I had ever wanted, in the matter of a few days. If she would have asked me this months ago, before Martinez… I wouldn’t have thought twice about accepting the offer, I would have jumped on the next plane. It was what I’d been working so hard for all my life. Pushing my body to the limits, sacrificing so much.

  “I wanted this, right?” I whispered to myself. My thoughts raged a war with my heart. In less than twenty-four hours this man had me questioning everything.

  My thoughts didn’t let up on the way back home.

  Home…

  I actually thought of it as my home.

  He was home to me.

  I waited for him all day on the couch, anxious to see his handsome face. To breathe him in, to feel his arms wrapped around me. He never showed up. I woke up in the middl

e of the night still on the couch, jolting awake, feeling his presence watching over me. When my eyes fluttered open, I was alone. Nothing but the darkness of the penthouse surrounded me. My inner turmoil made me believe in an illusion, a figment of my imagination. What wasn’t there and maybe had never been.

  I refused to think that.

  I stayed on the couch, waiting. Falling in and out of sleep, secretly praying he would walk in, scoop me up into his strong arms and take me to bed. His bed. No such luck. Sleep finally took me under, rewarding me with dreams of his skilled hands and tongue. Of his body all over me. The next morning there was still no sign of him. No traces he’d ever come home. I got dressed and went to work, once again distracted by thoughts of him all day. It went on like this for four days.

  Four days I didn’t see him.

  I didn’t talk to him.

  I didn’t feel him.

  It was as if he had disappeared.

  No one told me where he was when I asked, I tried calling his cell several times to no avail. By the fifth day I was beyond restless, thinking maybe I’d never see him again. Feeling devastated that he took the choice away from me, vanishing from my life as if he was never there to begin with. Racking my brain, I tried to think back to that night.

  Had I done or said something wrong?

  I was going stir crazy, sitting on that couch every night just to wake up disappointed in the morning. That evening, after eating dinner alone again, I went into his room. My body and mind yearned for a part of him. A fix, like he was my favorite kind of drug I couldn’t live without. Walking around the massive space, I took a real good look around for the first time. His room oozed masculinity and dominance, adding to its intimidating feel. A huge, black armoire was positioned on the left wall, almost taking up the entire space. The vast sliding glass doors on my right led out to the balcony, overlooking the city lights of Manhattan.

  An array of colors blurred in the distance.

  His bedroom suite was four times larger than mine, and mine was quite large. The walls were painted a dark shade of gray with expensive black and white art spread evenly around the walls. Two black end tables on each side of his bed, embedded with detailed woodcarvings along the edges, which matched his canopy bed frame. My toes immediately curled into the soft, shag, black accent rug that laid directly underneath his bed, as I ran my fingertips along the polished wood. Everything about his room was dark, and immense.

  Just like him.

  I couldn’t help but wander toward his walk-in closet. It was immaculate. Hundreds of collared shirts lining multiple racks on one side, dress pants and suit jackets on another. Ties of all colors and patterns hung on the far wall. Dress shoes of every kind lined the floor. The man didn’t own one piece of casual attire. Not one t-shirt, pair of jeans, sneakers or even sandals.

  My fingers skimmed over the collared shirts, running the tips along the soft fabrics. I don’t know what got into me, but I found myself pulling off one of his white collared shirts from the hanger. Bringing it up to my nose, clutching it tight against my chest. Inhaling deep. Before I knew it, I was taking off my clothes. Only leaving on my panties, sliding the cool dress shirt on. I was drowning in it, but I didn’t care. It made me feel close to him, and at that moment, that was all that mattered to me.

  I made my way over to his bed, running my hand up and down the post, remembering our night together. Which now seemed like years ago. I couldn’t help myself, I pulled back the covers, sinking deeply into his sheets. Lying in the exact spot he did, nights before. Aching to feel him any way I could. Sighing in contentment when my skin hit the silky linens, the aroma of our ravenous bodies still lingered in the space. I hatefully kicked off the covers, cursing at myself for being so fucking weak.

  He left me.

  And there I was still waiting for him.

  More so now than ever before.

  I sat up, bringing my knees to my chest, debating if I should leave. Go back to my room, and drown my sorrows. But the mirror on the wall across from his bed caught my attention. It was parallel to the mirror behind me that I just noticed, too. I peered around the room, realizing they were the only mirrors, both angled toward the bed.

  I saw my reflection staring back at me, feeling as though it had changed in the last few days. Like I looked older or something I couldn’t place my finger on. It could have been his shirt, but I felt…

  Sexy.

  Enticing.

  Beautiful.

  Is this who he saw when he looked at me?

  My fingers moved on their own accord, unbuttoning his white collared shirt, desperately wanting to see what he did. My nipples were hard, calling out for me to touch them. Roll them between my fingers, like he had. Flicking and pinching the small pebble just enough to set my body on fire. I had played with myself before, but the sensation was nothing like I’d felt at that moment. The desire to feel the way he made me feel was so overwhelming, so consuming, and so fucking real…

  My fingers hooked the lace band of my panties, sliding them down my freshly shaved legs. Throwing them beside me on the floor, and leaving his unbuttoned shirt on. Taking in the image of my body through the glass, trying to imagine what he saw when he looked at me with his hypnotic eyes.

  The eyes I couldn’t get enough of.

  I stared at my naked body, pulling my hair away from my face. My fingers started to trace the outline of my pouty lips, remembering the way he looked at my mouth when I talked, with such hunger. The tip of my tongue glided against my fingertips, tracing from my neck to my collarbones, leaving a trail of my saliva in its wake. I repeated the same process with my other hand, except this time I touched my hard nipple, lightly at first. Then, I pulled on it, remembering the way his teeth felt when he lightly bit me. I rubbed my breast, while my other hand slowly treaded toward my belly button. Using the tips of my fingers, I circled it. Tugging at the diamond stud dangling, remembering how captivated he was with my belly button ring the first time he saw it. My hand moved toward the top of my pussy, caressing the lining of my soft, bare folds.

  I was wet.

  For him.

  “You’re so fucking wet.” His voice rang through my head.

  I touched my clit, circling it, just like he had. Manipulating the bundle of nerves, harder, faster with more urgency. I moaned, leaning back, supporting my weight with one hand, still sitting up. My head fell back, and I closed my eyes imagining he was the one touching me. I moved my fingers from my clit to the opening of my pussy, and pushed my middle finger in, adding my index finger. Easing in and out of my tight hole, beginning to breathe heavier the closer I got to my climax. I glided my fingers back to my clit, riding my hand with the sway of my hips. Imagining I was riding his cock.

  “Oh, God,” I panted, picturing his face in between my legs. “Alejandro…” I clenched, about to come undone. I opened my eyes, wanting to see myself in the mirror.

  Coming face to face with Martinez.

  Through the reflection in the glass.

  I gasped, jumping out of my skin. Grabbing for the blankets, trying to cover myself.

  “Don’t,” he ordered in an authoritative tone. The same one he used the night I came running to him, after he surprised me with my dance studio.

  “I’m sorr—”

  “Don’t,” he repeated in the same dominant voice, leaning into the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Fully dressed in a suit. Not one hair out of place.

  How long had he been there? Watching me?

  I slid from the bed, wanting to close the distance between us. “You haven’t been here. I… just… I don’t know… I’m so—”

  “Don’t,” he snapped one last time, pushing off the doorframe. His dark, cold, soulless eyes never wavered from my face. I retreated back to the bed. I couldn’t remember the last time he looked at me like that.

  My stomach fluttered.

  My heart dropped.

  The closer he got to me.

  He stood at th

e foot of the bed, directly in front of me. Cocking his head to the side, he narrowed his eyes at me. “By all means, keep going, Lexi,” he spoke with conviction.

  “I—”

  He leaned forward, placing his tight grip onto the footboard. “That wasn’t a suggestion. Fuck your tight little cunt for me.” Slowly eyeing me up and down with a look I’d never seen before. “Spread your legs. Now!” he roared, in a primal tone.

  I jumped, overwhelmed by the turn of events. Seeing this side of him emerge, once again was unsettling. I looked into his vacant eyes, silently pleading for the man I was with days ago to come back to me.

  “Why can't you listen for once in your fucking life? You came into my room, rummaged through my closet, and started fucking yourself. Now finish.” He glanced down at my heat before quickly moving his calculated gaze back to my eyes. “Touch your pretty, little pussy. I want to watch you come, carino.”

  “Can you—”

  “No.” He didn’t waver. Bright green, tantalizing eyes eagerly waiting for the show.

  I swallowed hard and took a deep, steady breath. Wanting to please him, I leaned back onto my hand. Spreading my legs slowly, hoping he would let his guard down with me again. Moving my jittery hand where he ordered me to touch, I hissed upon contact on my clit. The nub was still sensitive from my assault, before he interrupted.

  He arched a demanding eyebrow, waiting. “I’m not a patient man,” he growled. White knuckling the bed.

  I reluctantly went right back to what I was doing. Except this time, I didn’t have to fantasize about him. He was standing right in front of me, watching me with an expression I couldn’t read, once again a blank canvas, a mystery.

  “That’s right, Lexi. Just like that.” His sultry voice setting my nerves on fire. It didn’t take long for my body to respond, working my clit harder and more demanding.

  My eyes half closed, my legs trembling the closer I got to giving him what he wanted. I couldn’t hold back any longer. As much as I wanted to stare into his eyes, my body betrayed me. My back fell against the mattress, my lips moaning his name, “Alejandro…” as I shattered from the orgasm.