Home > Mr. Garcia(74)

Mr. Garcia(74)
Author: T.L. Swan

He gives a subtle shake of his head. “You’re fucking infuriating, April.”

“And you’re a big baby.” I stand and pick up my plate.

“Where are you going?”

“To eat my dinner in front of the television.” I walk out into the living room and sit down on the couch. I begin to eat my dinner on my lap. “And I might write up a contract up for this, too!” I call out.

If he wants to be a dick, I can be a bigger one.

“Write up a contract that you have to suck my cock every day!” he calls from the kitchen.

“If you check the fine print of the already-written contract, you will see that it is me who gets head on the daily." I call back. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Could have fooled me,” I hear him mutter.

I smile to myself, and I know that he will be smiling, too.

“And you’re washing the dishes,” I call.

“I can’t hear you.”

I smile, knowing our fight is over.

I think that maybe I won.

 

I lie back in the deep, hot water as the steam rises. I think this is the deepest, most luxurious bathtub I’ve ever seen. Sebastian has been fussing around downstairs. He washed up and fed Bentley. God knows what he’s doing now.

It’s the strangest thing. We have these disagreements, but never once do I consider going home, which is weird. Usually, that’s my first response.

He walks into the bathroom and takes off his sweater.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in. What does it look like?”

I smile and scooch over. He slides his track pants down his legs, and I’m gifted with a full frontal from my Adonis.

His skin has a beautiful honey hue. His chest is broad with a scattering of dark hair. His stomach is rippled with muscles. My eyes drop lower to the well-kept, black pubic hair and his large family jewels. No matter how many times I see him naked, I’m always taken aback by his beauty.

He climbs in the opposite end and rearranges us so that I am lying between his legs. He takes the soap and begins to wash my legs. I stay silent as I wait for him to say something. Eventually, he does.

“I have a wedding in the Maldives this weekend.”

Oh no. A weekend without him. “Okay.”

“I leave on Thursday and get back next Tuesday.”

I nod, damn it. He’s going away for work tomorrow for two nights, so that means I won’t see him for a week.

“I’d like you to come and meet my friends.”

“To the wedding?”

“Yes.”

I smile goofily.

He remains straight-faced as he soaps up my feet. “I’m going away for work tomorrow, remember? I won’t see you for an entire week otherwise.”

“Oh, I had forgotten about that,” I lie as I act casual. “I’ll have to see if I can get off work.”

Bang work. If they don’t give me time off, I’ll leave. Not really, but still.

“I have a lot of time in lieu owed to me, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

He nods as his eyes search mine, and I know that he has a million things that he wants to say that will never leave his lips.

“I’m sorry about the contract, but you need to know that I’ll protect you, even if you don’t want me to.” I slide up over his body so that I am lying on top of him.

“I hate that you think this is about money. I don’t care about the money.”

I melt, and kiss his big, beautiful lips, running my hand through his thick, dark hair. “This is about freedom, Seb,” I say softly.

He frowns, not understanding.

“I need to know that we are on the same page. You need to remember that I lost everything to an ex-husband, too. That contract protects both of us.”

He blinks. “You think I would take your money?”

“No, not that I have a lot, anyway.” I pause as I try to get the wording right in my head. “But if there ever came a day when we decided to go further…”

“Define further.”

“Elope or something crazy. This way, the legalities are already taken care of.”

“Elope?” He frowns.

“Well, I’m never having a white wedding again. What a crock of shit that was.”

He smiles softly.

“My next wedding will be just me and my husband. It will be for us and us alone. No witnesses, no bullshit, no lies, and no fear of losing everything again.”

He kisses me as his arms slide up over my back, and I know that he likes that answer.

“I just need you to know that I’m not here for what you have, Seb. I’m here for what you are.”

He pushes the hair back from my face as we stare at each other. “I love you, April Bennet,” he whispers.

I smile. “I know.”

His lips take mine, and I’m lost.

Sebastian Garcia is special, and he’s all mine.

 

 

Sebastian


I’m sitting at the table with two of my colleagues. It’s been a full-on day with press conference after press conference.

We are at a dinner function filled with five hundred people, but all I want to do is go back to my room to call April. I’m over this political shit for the day. I hate staying away from home. I’ve had enough.

Bart appears through the crowd and pulls out a seat at our table. “Seb.”

“Hello.”

“I had a look over that contract you gave me this morning.”

“And?”

“It’s watertight. She did a good job. I say sign away.”

I knew she would have done it right. “Thank you.”

A waiter arrives at the table with a tray of drinks. He places them down one by one. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” I drain my glass and pick up my new one as I glance at my watch. Another hour and I’m out of here.

 

Pound, pound, pound, goes my head.

Searing pain ricochets through my skull.

Fuck.

I drag my eyes open to see the room spinning, and quickly I clench them shut again.

Oh…

My stomach rolls, and I sit up in a rush. Perspiration wets my skin.

What the hell, I feel sick. I stumble to the bathroom and throw up violently. My body is shaking, as though dealing with some kind of fever.

Fuck.

I get into the shower and under the hot water. I lean up against the tiles. I have zero energy. Why am I so hungover?

What did I drink last night? I frown, trying to remember.

Huh?

My mind is blank. The last thing I remember was sitting at the table in the bar.

But…

I frown as I try to clear my brain fog. How did I get back to the hotel?

I get out of the shower and dry myself. I wrap my towel around my waist and walk back into the room to look around for my things.

My phone vibrates on my side table.

April.

I pick it up. “Hi.”

“How’s my man this morning?”

“Good morning, Miss Bennet. Where are you?” I ask.

“In bed.”

I smile as I walk into the wardrobe to retrieve my suit. “I wish I was there. My bed was lonely without you.”

“Mine, too,” she purrs sexily. “What happened to you last night? I thought you were calling me when you got back to the hotel.”

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