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Mr Garcia: Chapter 20

April

More attitude.

I give up, I throw my hands up in the air in disgust. “Go home, Sebastian.” I turn and storm towards my building.

Wait a minute.

I stop and look around the street before I march back to his car. “Where is your security?”

“Don’t fucking start.”

My eyes widen. “Are you stupid? You snuck away from your security guards?”

“I had to see you.”

“And now you have.” I hold my arms out wide in exasperation. “Go home, you idiot!”

Furious, I turn and march toward my building. This man is the living end. What’s next?

I’m so glad taxpayers’ money is funding his security team.

What an asshole.

I hear his car door slam, and the alarm beep, telling me he’s locked it.

I walk faster but he runs to keep up with me. “Will you wait?”

“No.” I march up the front steps and swipe my key. The doors open, and Sebastian is hot on my heels.

I walk into the elevator and turn toward the front. “If you don’t have anything worthwhile to say, Sebastian, don’t bother.” I’m wet and angry. This man is beyond infuriating.

With his cold eyes locked on mine, he gets into the elevator and turns to face the front, too. We ride to my floor in silence with adrenaline screaming through my veins.

Is my apartment a mess? I don’t even remember how I left it, and he hasn’t been here before.

Great.

I open the door with him standing behind me. I walk in and look around, relieved that it’s not as messy as I imagined it would be.

He remains silent.

If he’s here and wanting to talk, he’d better make it worthwhile.

“Do you have something to say?” I ask.

He stares at me for a moment. “Where were you tonight?”

“I went out for dinner.”

“With who?”

“A friend. Don’t go there, Sebastian. Not after what you’ve done this week. Don’t you dare.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He gasps.

“You deny it?”

“Deny what?”

“Seriously?” I drop my head into my hands. Honestly, this is pointless. “Just go home.”

When I look up, his eyes search mine. He seems unsure what to say. So lost and sad.

“Seb,” I sigh.

His lips twist, like he’s holding something in.

Empathy fills me. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he’s struggling with whatever it is.

“Are you going to say something?” I ask softly.

He looks around the room, unable to make eye contact.

“Sebastian,” I urge. “Look at me.”

His hands are clenched into fists by his sides, and he drags his eyes to meet mine. “Don’t give up on me,” he whispers.

I get a lump in my throat, “You gave up on me.”

We stare at each other.

“I just—”

“Did it work… sleeping with her? Are you over me now?”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

I roll my eyes. “Please,” I mutter under my breath.

“I stayed at another hotel so that I wouldn’t get on my knees and beg you.”

“Beg me for what?”

“For you to feel the same as I do!” he cries as if outraged.

“And how is that?” I scoff. “I’m not a mind reader, Sebastian. Stop talking in riddles.”

“You think I like this?” He throws his arms in the air. “I hate being like this, and I hate that I fucking care about you.”

I frown, surprised. Okay…not what I was expecting him to say. “When you didn’t come back…”

He screws up his face in disgust. “How the hell could I sleep with someone else, April, when you’re all I can fucking think about? I let you assume that because I knew it would make you walk away.”

“Why is this so hard?” I whisper. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”

“I don’t know.”

I step toward him, and he takes a step back as if I’m some wild animal. I know for certain that if I want this to work, I have to step up and help him. He can’t do this alone. He’s broken. Maybe more than I am, and that’s a lot.

I hate his ex-wife for what she’s done to him.

“Seb,” I say softly. “You’re looking into this too much. You need to stop thinking about the past… or the future. There is no pressure or expectation between us.”

He cups my cheek, and his scared eyes hold mine.

“Just think about now, because that’s all we have,” I tell him.

His chest rises and falls.

“If you want us to have a chance, you need to talk to me,” I whisper.

“You don’t want to know the fucked-up shit that’s in my head.”

Emotion overwhelms me, and suddenly, I do. I want to know everything about this beautiful man. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

There’s a feeling between us. A closeness. An understanding.

Fear.

I sit down onto the couch, not sure what to say, and he sits opposite me. He places his elbows on his knees and drops his head as he wrings his hands together. He’s clearly stressed out.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask.

He nods.

I get up and look in the fridge. “I only have wine.”

“That’ll do.”

I pour two glasses and pass him one. I drop back into my seat, and we both take a sip in silence.

“Where do you want this to go?” I ask. “In a perfect world, what happens in this story, Sebastian?”

“We work it out.”

“That’s what you want? To work it out?” I repeat to make sure I heard him right.

He nods as he swallows.

Progress.

“That’s what I want, too, Seb.”

A frown creases his brow, as if he’s surprised by my answer.

I think back over my history and all the therapists I’ve seen over the years. None of their advice ever seemed to help me. One particular therapist comes to mind. He always wanted me to abstain from having sex because he thought it was counter-productive to me building any form of intimacy.

“You know what’s wrong with us?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.” He mutters dryly.

“We skipped a step. We went from cute flirting in a coffee shop one day, to you choking me and fucking my brains out in a brothel the next.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face. He likes that memory.

“We missed the dating stage, Seb. We never built that friendship, or the trust that goes with it.”

He frowns, processing my words.

Yes, this is it.

“Think about it,” I say with renewed purpose. “We are so good together physically, but emotionally, we’re useless. We’re either fucking hard or fighting harder. There’s nothing in between. No light and shade. No relationship can endure that no matter how much we want this to work out.”

“We can’t change the past, April. I wish that I could.”

I smile softly, hopeful for the first time all week. “But we can.”

He frowns.

“What if we went back?”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Your hang up is based around sex, am I right? You only respond to one-night stands and paid sex, and then in the morning, you freak out because you think you owe me more.”

He exhales heavily as if disgusted and I know that I’m right.

“So, let’s take it off the table completely.”

“What?” He screws up his face.

“Let’s be together and not have sex.”

“An attraction like ours can’t be tamed, April. It’s not that simple.”

“We could try.”

“Why would you want to do that? Sex is the only fucking thing that does work between us.”

I stand and walk over to sit on his lap. I brush the dark hair back from his forehead, and I kiss him softly. “Because I know we are better than this.”

I look up into his big, beautiful brown eyes, so tortured and flawed, and I kiss him again, our lips linger over each other’s.

“I can’t be with you and not…” His voice trails off. “I wouldn’t be able to…”

“Baby, listen to me.” I take his face in my hands. “We have something, and it’s far from perfect, but it’s worth trying for. From the moment we met, I knew it was special, and sure, we’ve both made monumental mistakes, and you’ve been a real fucking asshole at times.”

He twists his lips to stop a smile.

“But in the end, it’s how we navigate things from here that matters, isn’t it?”

He runs his hand tenderly down my back as he listens.

“And besides, Rome wasn’t built in a day,” I say hopefully.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with my bullshit,” he murmurs.

My heart constricts, and I push his hair back from his face. “This isn’t your fault. Never, ever apologize to me for being honest. I know better than anyone that the mind can be a dark place and that we have no control over the things that shape us. To be honest, Sebastian, I don’t even know how I’m being so normal right now. It’s usually me who’s the fucked-up one.”

He smiles as his tongue slowly slides through my parted lips. I open my eyes to see that his are firmly shut.

The tenderness dancing between us like a song.

Maybe we do have a chance.

We kiss again and again, and arousal rolls in as we hold each other.

No sex!

Short term pain for long term gain. Ah, what am I doing? I pull back from him.

“No sex, remember?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Come on, you have to be joking. There is no way we won’t have sex. The attraction between us is way too strong.”

“I want to try. If not for you, for me.”

He frowns.

“You’re not the only damaged one here, Seb, and I know this is it for me. I need to sort my shit out now or give up on relationships all together. I’m thirty-one.”

He gives me his first genuine smile of the day, and my heart melts. “You have plenty of time.”

“Ha, you just say that because you’re old.”

He chuckles. “Perhaps.”

I know if I keep sitting on his lap and kissing like this, I’ll be bent over the couch in two minutes flat. I stand, and he swiftly pulls me back down onto his lap.

“Not yet,” he says. “I haven’t held you for four days, April. I need more time.” He holds me tightly with his head to my chest, and I smile as hope blooms.

Sweet Mr. Garcia is in a league of his own.

I don’t get him often. It makes me cherish it more when I do.

His lips drop to my nipple, and he gently tugs it with his teeth.

“Hey.” I pull back from him. “Remember: no sex.”

“It was a nibble. My cock was nowhere near the Motherload.”

I giggle. “The Motherload. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Maybe.” He smiles. “It has a ring to it.” He bites my nipple again.

“Stop.” I laugh.

I refill our glasses and pass him his. He holds it up in the air, and I clink mine to his.

“What are we toasting?” I ask.

“To the most ridiculous social experiment of all time,” he mutters dryly. “Motherload abstinence.”

I burst out laughing, and he laughs, too. We fall silent as we stare at each other, the air circling with something new.

Hope.

He looks around my apartment. “So, what do we do now?”

I haven’t hung out with anyone on a platonic level for a really long time. It’s always been sex driven. “I have no idea.” I shrug. “Watch porn?”

“Works for me.”

I giggle. “You’re a sex maniac, Mr. Garcia.”

‘And you’re excellent in bed, we’re perfectly suited.’

‘No, you’re next level.’

“You can talk. I’ve never met a woman like you. You’re more sexually charged than I am.”

My mouth falls open as I fake horror, “I am not.”

He raises an eyebrow.

I pinch my fingers together. “Little bit.”

“I’ll last longer than you will.” He smirks.

I smile goofily over at him, I like this game. And, of course, he’ll last longer than me. He doesn’t have to look at his beautiful body like I do.

“Let’s place a bet on it.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Hmm.” I think for a moment…what’s something that he would never want me to do…okay. “If you cave before me, you have to let me fuck you with a strap on dildo.”

He snorts wine up his nose. “What the fuck?” he splutters as he launches into a full-blown coughing fit. He slaps his chest, mortified. “That’s not fucking happening.”

“Well, then, keep your cock away from the Motherload.”

He throws his head back and laughs, and I do, too. It feels so good to laugh together.

He falls serious. “What do I get if I win? Which I will, by the way.”

“What do you want?”

“Hmm, the possibilities are endless.” He narrows his eyes. “Let me get back to you on that.”

“Or not. We both know I’m going to win, anyway.”

His eyes darken, and the energy is there again between us.

It’s atomic.

I need to change the subject. “We have to go back to your house,” I say.

His face falls. “Why?”

“Because, as your legal representative, we both know you being here isn’t a wise move. Especially with Theodore missing. If something were to go wrong and it came out that you’d snuck away…”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’ll pack a bag and come to your house.”

He opens his mouth to say something and then swiftly shuts it again.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Say it.”

“I’m playing in a golf tournament tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I have to leave ridiculously early.”

“Sebastian, I’m more than capable of amusing myself for a few hours.”

His dark eyes drop down my body as if imagining something. “Doing what?”

“Not that.” I widen my eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Apparently, my body isn’t allowed in it, so…” He shrugs. “Come on, let’s go.”

I walk into my bedroom and take out my overnight bag from the closet. Sebastian walks into my room and looks around. He walks to my shelves and carefully studies my photo frames. “Who’s this?”

“That’s my sister Eliza, and that’s Nathan.”

He picks it up. “She looks like you.”

I smile. “She does.”

“And the guy?”

“That’s her partner. He’s a surgeon.”

He nods and places the frame back on the shelf. “Who’s this?”

“My parents.”

He places it back on the shelf, and then he picks up a rock. “What’s this?”

“My lucky rock.”

He smirks. “You have a lucky rock?”

I smile, feeling bashful. “Uh-huh.”

He turns it over and looks at the bottom. “What luck has it brought?”

“I found you.”

His eyes rise to meet mine, and he smiles softly. “You did.” He places it back on the shelf. “But I found you the first time.”

I think back to him coming to the coffee house for my bad coffee, day after day. “You know, there’s been a lot of weird coincidences between the two of us,” I say.

“Such as?”

I bite my lip to hide my smile. “You said that exact line the day we met.”

“I did?” he asks surprised.

I nod.

“What were the coincidences?”

“I saw you in the street the morning we met. You gave money to a homeless man on the street. After that, you came into my café.”

He smiles softly as if remembering. “Then I met this gorgeous blonde with a hot tight ass.”

“Who made great coffee—”

“Horrible coffee,” he cuts me off.

“You kept coming back because it was so good.”

“I was trying to warn people away. Duty of care to humanity.”

I giggle. “And at the same time, I was broke and looking for another job.”

He doesn’t like this part of the story. “Don’t remind me.”

I hesitate, unsure if I should go on, but I want to go over this with him. We haven’t discussed it all. “And you came to the club.”

He pulls my hips toward his. “And I choked you out.”

“You did more than that. You blew my mind.”

The air between us crackles with electricity.

“And we spent a wonderful two weeks together… until.”

He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Enough of the train wreck. I don’t want to talk about it,” he murmurs against my lips as he kisses me softly.

“I fell for you then, and you threw me to the side.”

He stiffens and pulls back from me. “Why are we going over this shit?”

“Don’t you ever think about these things?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Why not?”

“Because all I see is a whole lot of reasons why we don’t work.”

I hold my hands out wide. “And yet, here we are.”

Our eyes are locked.

I take my overnight bag down and begin to throw my clothes into it. I pack my toiletry bag, a few clothes for tomorrow, and even some work clothes for Monday. I don’t know why I feel the urge to lay it all out on the table for him, but I do.

“This is our last chance, Seb. If we don’t get it right this time, I’m going home to America, and I’ll never see you again.”

“Is that a warning?”

“No.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“I want you to know why this is important to me. I’m not being over-dramatic but I need to strip us back and try again for real this time.”

He exhales heavily. “Why would you even think of this crap? It won’t work. Sex has nothing to do with our problems.”

Maybe he’s right and this is totally ridiculous. “My therapist told me to do this for years, and I never wanted to. But tonight, I’ve been thinking maybe it was just the person I was with at the time.”

“Oh.” He fakes a smile. “That makes me feel so much better. You couldn’t stop having sex with him, but you’re more than happy to stop it with me.” He walks toward my bedroom door. “I don’t want to hear your fucking bullshit, April. Are you coming to my house or not?”

“Having a conversation is not bullshit, Sebastian,” I call after him.

“Listen.” He puts his head back around the doorframe. “I like having sex. If I wanted a platonic therapy session, I would go to an exuberantly expensive therapist for useless advice.”

I roll my eyes.

“And don’t roll your eyes at me,” he snaps.

Seriously, this man is an idiot. Can’t he at least understand where I’m coming from?

“Well, I’m doing this for me,” I huff.

“That’s great. You do your little thing for you, and I’ll be jerking off beside you for me.”

I roll my eyes again.

“And don’t be surprised if some of my semen finds its way into your virginal mouth.”

I smirk.

“I’m just saying.” He holds his hands up. “The term choked out may have just found a new meaning.”

“Why are you such a sex maniac? All you think about is coming.”

“Because you’re insanely hot. Now, hurry the fuck up or I’m leaving without you.” He walks out of the bedroom, and I hear him grab his keys and head for the door.

I smile after him. My deep and meaningful Mr. Garcia wasn’t exactly sweet and understanding but it’s a start.

And that’s all I’m asking for.

“April!” he groans.

I pick up my bag and head for the door. “Coming, dear.”

I hear the shower turn off as I lie in bed, and my stomach flutters. Sebastian and I have made out in the garage before we even got inside, in the kitchen, made out in the hallway, halfway up the stairs, and it is crystal clear that I didn’t think this plan through at all.

We are hot together and maybe he’s right.

I just want to fuck him already.

No.

He walks out of the en-suite bathroom with a white towel around his waist. My eyes drop down his thick, rippled torso, and my breath catches.

Sebastian Garcia is one hell of a beautiful man.

His eyes find mine, and he unwraps his towel and lets it fall to the floor.

Fucking hell…perfection.

He’s tall, dark, rippled with muscles, and has the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. This man is the epitome of sexuality.

His thick, hard cock hangs heavily between his legs, and he climbs into bed beside me. He lies on his back and puts his hands behind his head.

Arousal begins to flood through my body.

“Anything you want to do?” he asks casually.

I swallow the lump in my throat as my eyes linger over his engorged cock. Thick veins are coursing up the length of it. “Nope.”

“Okay.” He sits up and takes a bottle of lube from his bedside. He clicks it open and holds it up. “Last chance.”

I begin to throb.

“Knock yourself out,” I whisper as I turn on my side toward him. I rest my hand on my elbow to get in position to watch the show.

He lies back against his headboard and spreads his legs wide. I watch on as he squirts lube onto his hard cock and gives himself a long, strong stroke.

Fuck.

He runs his hand up over his end and then back hard to the base. His hooded eyes find mine. “You going to kiss me while I do this, baby?” he whispers.

I shake my head. I know if I touch him anywhere, it’s all over.

The sound of his voice all husky and hushed… it’s the sound of the devil.

His strokes get harder, and the muscles in his arm and chest flex as he works himself.

Oh hell…this is the dumbest plan in all of history.

What was I thinking?

He widens his legs as his breathing picks up. I sit up, unable to act uninterested.

Fuck me.

He tips his head back and moans, and I swear, I feel it between my legs. I’ve never met a man so sexual. Harder and harder, the bed begins to move beneath me to the sound of his moans. I sit still, transfixed to the best porn I’ve ever watched.

The lube is loud, slurping and cracking.

Driving me wild.

“April, fuck, baby, get on me,” he whispers.

Oh God, I want to.

“Keep going,” I pant.

With his eyes locked on mine, he clenches his teeth and really lets himself have it. I can tell by his breathing that he’s close.

I hold my breath, and he moans, deep and guttural, as white, hot semen spurts across his stomach.

I stare at him in awe, and then without thinking, I drop my head and drag my tongue through his arousal.

Our eyes are locked.

I lick again and again, until his hand goes to the back of my head as he watches on.

I want him so bad.

His grip on my hair tightens, and he clenches his fist, dragging my face to his. “Kiss me.” His lips take mine, and he moans when he tastes himself.

We kiss as if we have all the time in the world.

Oh, I’m lost.

This beautiful man does things to me.

“You taste good,” I murmur against his lips. He pulls me over to lie on top of him, his arousal wet beneath me. I’m throbbing with want, wet and swollen.

Our heartbeats soar together as one.

“I need to sort you out,” he breathes as he holds me close.

“No, baby.” I kiss him again. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For more.”

His eyes search mine. An undercurrent of emotion runs between us.

I don’t know how I made it through that without touching him.

I know what I want.

I’ll try anything to get it.

“April.” I feel a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m going, sweetheart. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

My eyes flutter open. “Okay.” I wrap my arms around his neck. Sebastian is freshly showered and decked out in golf clothes. He smells delicious.

“What time is it?” I frown.

“Early. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” I smile, and with another soft kiss, he leaves me.

I hear the garage opening and closing before he drives away.

I’m not sure how long I doze for after he leaves, but I don’t fall back into a deep sleep. Once awake, I pick up my phone and scroll through aimlessly. I hear a click in the distance.

Bentley sits up as if hearing something, too. He walks to the door, his ears pricked.

I hear something downstairs.

Is somebody in the house?

I’m heading toward the door when I hear another sound. Fuck… what is that?

I see a small security screen iPad attached to the wall near the door of Sebastian’s bedroom. I’ve never noticed it before. There are little pictures of each room in the house and right on the bottom left screen I see movement.

What?

I lean into get a better look. I watch the figure—they’re dressed in full black with a balaclava on—walking down the hall before they go into the office.

I hold my breath as the person pulls off the balaclava, and my eyes widen in horror.

Helena, Sebastian’s ex-wife is in the house.

What the fuck is she doing here?

My heart races as I watch the screen. What the hell is she doing?

She opens the top drawer of his desk and rattles around it, obviously looking for something.

Fuck.

I grab my phone and dial Sebastian’s number, but it just rings and rings.

“Pick up,” I whisper.

The call ends, and I dial the number again. It rings out again.

I watch on as Helena begins to go through the drawers.

I can’t even go down there because I don’t want her to see me.

I imagine her face when she finds me here, and the assumptions she’d make.

Oh shit.

“What the hell is she looking for?” I grip my head in a panic.

She moves to the filing cabinet and pulls on the drawers. They’re all locked.

She searches through the desk drawers, eventually pulling out a small set of keys.

Oh, no, you don’t. I don’t know what you’re looking for but you’re not fucking getting it. Especially not on my watch.

That’s it!

After I tiptoe over to the double doors and sneak out onto the balcony, I dial 999.

“Hello, what service do you require? Fire, ambulance, or police.”

“Hi,” I whisper. “Police.”

“Putting you through.”

The phone rings, and someone picks up, “Hello Police.”

“Hi, there is an intruder in my house,” I whisper.

“Where are you?” the man asks calmly.

“I’m outside on the upstairs balcony, and the intruder is downstairs. I’m watching them on the security cameras.”

“Do they know you’re there?”

“No, I don’t think so. Please send someone quickly. I have no idea what they are doing.”

“What’s your address?”

I quickly tell him the address.

“A car will be there shortly. Stay where you are. Is anyone else in the house?”

“No.” My heart is hammering in my chest. “The house belongs to Sebastian Garcia but he isn’t home.”

“The politician?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

A thought comes to me. What if Sebastian comes home and he finds her in his office looking through his things? He’ll go mental, and who knows what she is capable of.

“Oh my God, please hurry,” I whisper.

“Stay on the line.”

“No, I’ve got to watch her on the security cameras inside. Hurry!” I hang up and turn my phone on silent. I quietly open the doors and sneak back inside, just in time to see her wrestle with the keys. She turns back to the desk, and Bentley walks in. She kicks her foot out to get rid of him, and I see red.

Don’t mess with the dog, bitch.

He approaches her again and she kicks him. Something snaps inside me.

Fury is running through my veins, and before I know it, I’m standing at the office door.

“What are you doing?” I snap.

She’s now going through the filing cabinet. She looks up and falters.

“Who are you?” she asks,

I’m your worst fucking nightmare.

“Wait.” She frowns, trying to work out where she knows me from.

“I’m the cleaner. Get out.”

She narrows her eyes, not believing me for a moment.

Shit, I don’t actually want her to get out. I need to keep her here until the police turn up.

“I asked you what you were doing,” I growl.

“Who are you?” She sneers.

I cross my arms over my chest. “It doesn’t matter who I am. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I came to visit my dog.” She pushes something behind her back.

“Liar.”

Uneasiness falls over me. What does she have in her hand? Is it a letter opener?

She wouldn’t…

Is she dangerous?

Shit.

“What’s behind your back?” I demand to know.

“Nothing.”

The sound of sirens roaring up the street takes over, and as I look toward the window to see the police, she makes a run for it. I chase her at full speed, out of the office and up the hall. As we run into the kitchen, my toe catches on the rug and I fly headfirst into the granite countertop.

Searing pain tears through my skull. My vision blurs, and I fall to the floor. I hear the front door bust open in the distance.

Muffled voices.

Panic.

Pain.

Darkness.


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