Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Page 8

  He sped past me and then met me again before I completed the lap. I stopped at the far end of the pool and watched him.

  He glided through the water like someone who swam competitively. When he transitioned from free to butterfly, I nearly choked. His upper body came out of the water so fluidly and then crashed back in with nary a splash.

  “You’re a flyer,” I said when he stopped at the wall beside me. “A good one.”

  He scrubbed the water from his face with his hand and laughed. “I’m feeling my age from it.”

  I removed my goggles. “Trying to show off?”

  “Yes.” The heat of his gaze was too much. I pushed off the wall and swam to the other end, but he beat me there.

  “You’re in really good shape.”

  “Part of the job.”

  I smiled and shook my head. I dunked into the water and tightened the band on my hair. I hated wearing swim caps, but without one, I had to put my unruly mess in a tight bun.

  “I saw you this morning,” he said, no longer looking at me.

  “I know.”

  “Why were you there?”

  I turned around, pushed off the wall with my feet, and floated on my back.

  “Kensington?”

  I folded my body in half and put my feet on the bottom of the pool, swishing the water back and forth with my hands.

  His eyes met mine. “She was your age when she died.”

  “Yes.”

  He put his hands on the pool’s deck and climbed out of the water with nothing more than his upper-body strength, and left without another word.

  I couldn’t help myself from watching the way his tight, firm ass, covered in only a Speedo, moved when he walked. Nor could I help wishing he’d turn around so I could see the front of him.

  12

  Rile

  After my swim, I went in search of sustenance.

  I’d given Marta two days off—more that I forbid her to work—but expected she’d left plenty to eat. I wouldn’t cast her out of her home, but I wanted her to spend time with her family.

  When I walked into the kitchen, Casper was sitting at the table.

  “Taking a break?”

  “She’s upstairs with Teagon.”

  I opened the refrigerator and found that Marta had it well-stocked. While I’d planned to take Kensington into the village for a special Christmas Eve dinner, we would not go hungry otherwise in my housekeeper’s absence.

  Sensing Casper wanted to be on her own, I excused myself and rang Decker. “Sorry for the intrusion on a holiday.”

  “Don’t be. I was getting ready to call you.”

  “About?”

  “Konstantine is on the move.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He’s scheduled to fly from JFK to Budapest in a little over an hour. We tracked him from the mother’s residence straight there.”

  “Who do you have on him?”

  “Smoke. Once they land in Hungary, Siren will join him.”

  “Siren? Has she left IMI?” I hadn’t anticipated her retirement from Irish Military Intelligence this soon.

  “Made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

  “Excellent,” I murmured. “Many thanks.”

  “Doin’ my job, Rile. Merry Christmas.”

  I wished him the same and rang off. Things were moving forward quite well for the Invincibles, and I was pleased. The two independent operatives Decker put on this assignment had been near the top of my list of recruits, but I’d never expected they’d come on board before sometime next year.

  I showered and shaved but, since I hadn’t mentioned dinner to Kensington, put on casual clothes. When I came out of my bedroom, I found her sitting on a bench, looking out at the Balearic Sea.

  “I was on my way to look for you.” When she turned toward me, her natural beauty took my breath away, as it always did.

  “Your eyes are the color of the sea,” she said when I sat down beside her. “Why were you looking for me?”

  “I wanted to invite you to join me for dinner tonight.”

  “Just me?”

  I nodded.

  “What about Teagon and Casper? Is that her name? Casper?”

  “Her name is Calla, and dinner would just be you and me.”

  “On Christmas Eve? I’d hate to go without them. Teagon, at least.”

  I smiled. “We wouldn’t be going without them. They’d be with us, but they’d also be working.”

  “Right. I forgot. It’s their job to watch me.” She rolled her eyes, which made me laugh.

  “It is, Kensington. Now, what about dinner? Will you join me?”

  “I would like that.”

  “Good.” I looked at my watch. “We’ll leave in an hour. Will that suffice?”

  “Attire?”

  “Festive.”

  I was standing by the trail that led down to the beach when Kensington came outside. The sun was just setting, and in its glow, I couldn’t imagine anyone ever being more beautiful. She wore a simple black dress and a dark red, beaded, rope-length necklace. When she approached, I touched the strand with my fingertip. “Garnets?”

  “My birthstone.”

  “Ah, yes, you have a birthday soon, don’t you?”

  “Next month.”

  “The fifteenth.” I held out my arm. “Shall we?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Where are…”

  “Close by.”

  I’d had two reasons for paying the owner of the small bistro to close for me tonight. The first was for Kensington’s safety; the second was that I wanted her all to myself without any distractions.

  “It smells fantastic,” she said when we walked in.

  “Señor DeLeón, bienvenido.”

  I shook the man’s hand. “Ponce, please, call me Cortez, and may I present Miss Kensington Whitby.”

  When she extended her hand, he kissed the back of it. “Bienvenida,” he repeated.

  “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Please, follow me.”

  He showed us to the lone table in the center of the room, illuminated both by candles and the lights on the Christmas tree.

  I recognized his son, PJ—Ponce Junior—when he brought the bottle of wine I’d chosen to the table, followed by a simple appetizer of Manchego cheese, olives, and chorizo with fresh, warm bread.

  “Por La Noche Buena,” I said, raising my glass.

  “Happy Christmas Eve,” she replied so sweetly.

  PJ brought our next course of Escudella—the rich, traditional soup made from pasta, white beans, and winter vegetables—and we chatted about Christmases she spent with her grandparents at the Queen’s country estate in Norfolk.

  “What about your parents? You haven’t mentioned either of them.”

  “Once they divorced and Kiki tried her best to take my father for everything he was worth, she wasn’t welcome. As far as my dad was concerned, I don’t remember a Christmas when he was around. Perhaps when I was very little. He travels almost non-stop. When I last spoke to him, he was in Chile.”

  “When was that?”

  “Right before we left London for America.”

  “I wasn’t able to reach him.” I hoped she would believe I’d tried.

  “He said it was a miracle I did, given he was in the desert where there was no signal.”

  “Your grandparents loved you very much.”

  She cocked her head. “They did, but what makes you say that now?”

  “Because you are the daughter of people who cared a great deal for you. It is evident in all that you do. All that you are.”

  “I will take that as a compliment.”

  “As it was intended.”

  Our main course consisted of Cordero Asado—roast lamb—and my favorite, Caldereta de Langosta. The lobster stew originated on Mallorca. As we ate, I told her about Christmas at Palacio de la Zarzuela with my aunt and uncle, Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand.

  We
rested before our dessert arrived; I stood and walked over to the Christmas tree.

  “I have a gift for you,” I said, handing her the package I’d had delivered here earlier.

  She put her hand on her heart. “Cortez, I—”

  “Allow me, Kensington. It would bring me great pleasure for you to have this.” Her eyes lit up.

  She carefully unwrapped the heavy paper and gasped when she saw the image that lay beneath. “Miró’s Petit Univers.” Kensington looked up at me in awe. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  I watched as she studied the painting, turning her head to take in the vibrant colors. “Miró once said that he tried to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music.”

  Her fingers traced the shapes depicted in the painting without touching it. To me, it represented the woman sitting across from me, her thin form by the sea, with the moon and stars shining on her, and the creatures from the ocean that frolicked with her.

  She raised her head suddenly. “Cortez…”

  I smiled. “Yes?”

  “It can’t be.”

  “It is.”

  “The original?” Her eyes filled with tears when I nodded. “It’s the nicest gift anyone has ever given me.” She looked down at the painting and up at me again. “I’ve nothing for you,” she murmured.

  Ah, but she had given me so much already. Her smile and the way her eyes met mine. Her laughter in times of uncertainty. Her mouth, her tongue, the nipples that hardened from my gaze alone. Her wetness, and above all, the gift of falling apart from my hands and mouth.

  “Cortez,” she murmured, her cheeks flush.

  I reached across the table and held my hand out. She placed her palm on mine. “Can you feel what I’m thinking, Kensington?”

  She lowered her eyes.

  “Look at me, sweetheart. Can you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Now?”

  “I think so.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m never shy, Cortez. I never have been, but with you…”

  “Shall I tell you, then?”

  “Please,” she murmured.

  “I liked having your body next to mine last night. Very much, in fact.”

  Her eyes closed, and I watched as a shudder coursed through her. I closed my eyes too, remembering her legs spread for me, the taste of her on my lips, my tongue. She squeezed my hand tightly, and I knew she was remembering too.

  Our dessert of almond candy and cookies and Spanish crumble cakes arrived along with two glasses of Moscatel. As I sipped the smoky, sweet wine, I knew what I had to do.

  I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. “There is something we must talk about, Kensington.”

  “Celestina?” she whispered.

  I continued to hold her hand, needing the connection as I told her about the day my heart broke.

  “I was on a mission in Iraq in advance of the Battle of Mosul, as part of a team made up of allied militias and international forces along with the Iraqi Government.” I took a deep breath. It had been a long time since I told anyone this story. In fact, when I last had, I vowed I never would again.

  Kensington weaved her fingers with mine.

  “We were in the final planning stages of the attack intended to recapture the city from the Islamic State.”

  She waited patiently while I gathered my thoughts. I looked into her eyes and saw everything I needed to go on.

  “I knew the instant it happened. My chest felt as though a grenade had exploded from inside me. A call came in a few minutes later, confirming what I already knew. My beloved wife died…”

  Kensington rested her other hand on top of where ours were entwined. “It’s okay, Cortez, please don’t feel as though you have to say anything more. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

  “It was an automobile accident here in the village. A car sped out from one of the side streets, ignoring the stop sign, and hit hers. They told me later she died on impact. I already knew.”

  When I looked back at Kensington’s beautiful face, her cheeks were stained with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “She was your age when she died. We’d been married two years. We were ready to start a family.”

  Her grip on my hand tightened as tears streamed down her face.

  “Forgive me for ruining—”

  She shook her head. “Please don’t apologize for anything, Cortez. I beg you.”

  “Kensington, I…” I shook my head, unable to continue. She had to know, had to understand, that a part of me died that day. I would never be able to be what I was to Celestina to another woman. No woman could replace her.

  My eyes remained on the woman who sat across from me as I felt the warmth of a hand on my shoulder.

  “Love her, Cortez. You can love her the way you loved me. Let her in.”

  I shook my head. “We should return to the house.”

  “Okay,” she said, wiping her tears. “Excuse me?”

  “Of course,” I said, standing to help with her chair. I watched her walk to the ladies’ room, her shoulders heaving.

  I thanked our host and his son for the wonderful evening they’d allowed us, and rang Angel to let her know we were ready to leave.

  When Kensington came out, I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her outside.

  Neither of us spoke on the ride to the house. When we walked inside, she turned and faced me.

  “Blessed Christmas, Cortez.” She kissed my cheek. “I will never forget all that you have given me.”

  I watched as she got on the lift, but I didn’t join her. I poured a glass of brandy and looked out at the moonlight reflected on the sea.

  I cannot, my beloved.

  “You must, my love. It’s time.”

  13

  Kensington

  I pressed the button for the fourth floor, and it illuminated. Yet when the lift stopped and the doors opened, I was on the fifth. I walked to where I’d slept beside Cortez last night as though I was in a trance.

  I removed my dress and then my underthings, folded them, and put them on the chair. Naked, I walked over to the fireplace and lit it before crawling into his bed.

  I wasn’t nervous about him finding me here. I knew in my heart that this was where I was supposed to be. I closed my eyes and waited until I felt his presence.

  I opened them and saw him standing in the doorway. He was as naked as I, his beautiful body illuminated by the fire’s glow. I sat up and held my hand out to him.

  He took it and came to lie beside me. “Kensington,” he murmured. “You are in my bed.”

  He was smiling so I did too. “It seemed the lift had a mind of its own.”

  The chill that had been in the room was gone. Between the warmth from the fire and the intense heat between our bodies, I felt covered in a sheen of dew. I threw off the bedclothes and trailed my fingertips down from Cortez’s lips to his neck, the center of his sternum, to where the trail of salt-and-pepper hair led to his hardness.

  He sucked in a breath when I wrapped my hand around his girth. He grabbed my face and held me still while his mouth ravaged mine, and I continued stroking him.

  The vibrations from his moans spread from my mouth to my nipples and then my clit. I licked my lips as I imagined licking my way down the trail my fingers had journeyed.

  Cortez moved my hand from his cock to his hip, making me pout, but the hunger etched on his face ignited my longing into a fast-burning flame. “Please,” I whispered.

  “Say it again. Louder.”

  “Please, Cortez.”

  He ran his hand down my body like I had his, searing my skin wherever he touched. His focus stayed on my pebbled nipples. When he finally moved to spread my legs open, I couldn’t stop myself from writhing.

  He moved and settled his body between my thighs.

  “Tell me what you want, Kensington.”

  “You. Inside me,” I pleaded.

  �
��I do not have protection, my gorgeous girl.”

  He lowered his mouth and licked through my folds.

  “I’m on birth control,” I cried, knowing that he could bring me to an orgasm with his mouth and fingers, but I wanted more.

  He stopped and stared into my eyes. “I have not been with another woman…”

  I cupped his face with my palm. “Nor I a man, without protection.”

  He moved his body up and caught my tight nipple between his teeth while his hardness rested at my yearning pussy. His push was slow at first.

  “Tell me you want me,” he demanded.

  “I’ll die if I don’t have you.”

  “Say my name.”

  “Cortez, please,” I begged, and with it, he thrust inside.

  “You are so tight, so warm,” he said, stilling as my body grew accustomed to his size. I wrapped my legs around his waist and grabbed his arse, wanting him to move again.

  He thrust slowly, teasing me, and rolled his hips in a circular motion. “So wet for me.”

  I bit my lip as I felt an orgasm hovering, knowing that when it hit, I would dissolve. Cortez thrust harder and put the tip of his finger on my clit.

  “Give me your pleasure, Kensington. I want it.”

  It felt as though steaming liquid coursed through my veins. I was so close.

  “Let go, my darling. I’ve got you.”

  He covered my mouth with his, swallowing my scream. As I rode out my own climax, I clenched his cock, making him thrust harder. I could feel the groan building in his chest and kissed him harder as he let it out into my mouth like I had with him.

  Cortez licked the perspiration from my neck. “I’m not finished with you, Kensington.” He put his hand on my left leg and brought it up so it rested on his shoulder. He thrust again, and I almost came just from the change in angle.

  “God, Cortez,” I moaned, loving his slow movement as he went deeper than I thought possible.

  “Look into my eyes. Match your breathing with mine.”

  I focused on his demand. When his breathing slowed, mine did too.

  “Feel how I move inside you, Kensington.” He rolled his hips like he had earlier, but this time, it felt so different. It was as though I could feel every ridge of his hard cock.