Page 54 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

LORENA

I can’t remember the last time I woke up with a smile on my face.

I hate to admit it, but most days when I wake up, the gratefulness I’m supposed to feel for being blessed with another day is overshadowed by all the burdens that come with that supposed gift.

My to-do list is usually the first thing that creeps into my mind, mentally organizing what needs to get done right away, and what can wait until I drown myself in coffee.

It's always my inner monologue going “yay, woke up this morning, can’t wait to adult non-stop and work myself to death, all so I can maybe have a sliver of time at the end of the day I feel awake enough to possibly get a few pages read of whatever book I have downloaded on my kindle.”

But right now, that usual grumpiness is gone, and the smile I woke up with remains plastered on my face. And it has everything to do with Tino.

From him coming with me to my mom’s and taking care of me last night when my emotions got the better of me.

To this morning when he woke me up to work my body so good that combined with whatever strain of weed I smoked from his vape, I fell back asleep.

He’s become responsible for the reason I don’t dread my day to day like I used to.

How could I when he’s so attentive, and already so in tune with my body — and soul’s — cues. Picking up on each and every one, becoming relentless in his pursuit to make me happy.

Something I didn’t think I’d truly be capable of feeling. Sure, we say ‘I’m so happy’, but sometimes, it feel hollow, obligatory. But with him, I feel a happiness that feels as strange as it does comforting.

My hand moves to my lips. I close my eyes and for a brief moment, I’m transported back to how his mouth felt on mine.

I feel so ridiculous for reminiscing about a damn kiss.

It’s literally just that…a kiss. But it was the way he pulled me in with such confidence, desire oozing from his pores, spreading its electric current onto my skin that felt so intoxicating.

That kiss from last night, in this very bed, felt more erotic than his barbells scratching my tonsils or my insides, or how the one through his tongue feels on my clit.

It’s been an embarrassing amount of time since I’ve allowed someone to kiss me. I wasn’t lying when I told Tino when we first agreed on our hook-up arrangement that I don’t kiss.

It’s always felt so intimate, and intimacy, although seeing a healthy example of it from my parents when my father was still alive, scares me.

There’s a vulnerability that comes with it that sets us up for pain.

Whether it’s by our own accord or another factor.

It all leads to hurt. Though somehow, when Tino kisses me, all that noise in my head lessens, and I actually feel capable for a fleeting second of being able to let him in.

I roll over expecting — and excited — to see Tino, assuming he went back to sleep after our smoke and fuck session, but he’s nowhere to be found. The side of the bed he slept on is already made, and the door is cracked open, letting in the noise from what sounds like the kitchen downstairs.

Familiar voices, all jumbled together, some speaking louder than others, with some laughter thrown in the mix, fill my ears.

But seeing that I haven’t had any coffee yet, my brain isn’t computing who’s who.

However, with the door ajar, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts its way in, urging me to get up and get some.

Just as I’m about to get out of bed, I glance down at myself, noticing that my naked body is free from the honey Tino used on me. He must’ve cleaned me up after I dozed back off to sleep.

Sitting up in bed, I see the silk pajama set I had on before tossed on the floor.

If it were just me and Tino, I’d happily head downstairs with nothing on, but seeing that we aren’t at the hotel like we had planned, and we’re at my mom’s, that’s probably not the wisest idea.

Especially if Tomás has arrived back in New York and will be here soon.

I grab the black pencil skirt from my luggage and opt for the black short sleeve bodysuit and put that on, finishing it with one of my favorite leather harnesses.

While I head to the attached guest bathroom to brush my teeth, I take a look at myself in the mirror and decide to spruce up my hair a bit and well, one second blurs into the next and before I know it, I have a full face of makeup on, complete with a fuchsia lip. Tino’s favorite.

Walking back into the bedroom, I reach for my phone on the nightstand, though the second I press the side button, I realize it’s not my phone, it’s Tino’s.

Mine is on the charger next to it. I’m about to put his phone down, but there’s a text message from a number he doesn’t have saved that catches my attention.

Tino doesn’t have the hidden preview option on his phone, so I can see the messages.

Unknown: I don’t know when you’ll learn Amato

Unknown: But I’m fucking glad you haven’t

Unknown: Your endless fuck ups are forever my gain

I read the message again. I should bring it downstairs and say something to him, because this message has red flags written all over it, and as his publicist, things like this are quite literally my job.

However, as his…woman he fucks? It makes me look like I was snooping.

Which I wasn’t. I only accidentally picked up his phone and then chose to be nosy when I saw the message.

Conflicted but deciding to leave it be, I put his phone down, grabbing mine instead. I’ll wait until he sees it, and when he does, I’ll casually ask what he’s reading. Then I can finagle my way into finding out who and what it is, and we can deal with it from there.

Aware of the time as I stare at my phone, realizing that we don’t have a lot of it, I head downstairs to where everyone is hanging out in the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, and so I can let Tino know it’s time to go.

“Ah, look who is finally awake.” My mom greets me.

It makes me so happy to hear her usual vigor in her voice this morning as compared to last night.

“And I stand corrected!” She waves her finger at me with a wink as she looks over to Tino standing in front of the stove, slouched in…

none other than gray fucking sweatpants — god damn it, this man — and a coffee in hand.

“What am I missing?” I ask, acutely aware that I’m missing something.

“I was just telling Tino how grumpy you are in the morning, but I stand corrected. Look at you, walking down here all dolled up with a smile plastered on that face. I wonder what has gotten into you.”

Tino. That’s who.

“I wonder,” Tino singsongs, looking proud of himself, and not helping matters at all.

I lock eyes with him. “Yes, I wonder.” Silently signaling him to behave himself, which only makes him grin harder.

I walk over to kiss my mom on the cheek good morning, and as I do, I’m met with a tsk. “Yes?” I ask, truly curious because the grin that Tino had from seconds before has widened tenfold.

She waves her fingers at me, clicking her tongue, and everyone but me bursts out into laughter, as the reason why my mom is being like this clicks.

I roll my eyes, giving her another hug as I say bendición . It’s customary in Puerto Rican culture to say bendición to our elders. It’s essentially asking for god’s blessing. It’s not so much a religious thing, which no one in my family, including myself is, it’s more out of respect.

My mother claps her hands excitedly as she returns the customary response to me asking for the blessing. “Que Dios te bendiga.”

Immediately, I’m pulled back to when I was a teenager, and I started becoming a tad rebellious as teenagers have a tendency of doing, and I wouldn’t say it to her in the mornings or whenever I saw my grandparents.

There’s no defiance in the reason I didn’t say it this morning, but having Tino here, as nice as it is, makes me feel off.

Nervous, if I’m being honest, and I don’t feel like I’m fully thinking straight.

“Was that so difficult?” My mom shakes her head, taking a sip of her coffee, and then points at Tino. “Santino said it unprompted when we came downstairs to him already in the kitchen brewing coffee.”

I look to him. “Suck up.” I stick my tongue out at him, reminiscent of the way I used to when we were having our playful bickering matches back in the day in my mom’s apartment in Co-op City.

He moves from the stove over to the kitchen table, walking next to me until he stops at my side. Brushing his hand at my lower back to bring me in for a side hug that feels more intimate, especially in front of my mom, than anything else we’ve done in private.

Feeling the need to play off his advance, I break his hold on me, opting to sit down at the kitchen table. “See what I mean, total suck up.” I attempt to keep an even tone, but I don’t think there’s any denying the shakiness of my voice or the look on my mom’s observant face.

Luckily, Tino doesn’t engage in any defending himself banter, and he goes to the coffee machine to pour me a cup.

And he does it exactly how I like it. Even down to the specific dairy-free creamer I use.

I notice the small carton on the counter, surprised my mom has it in the house.

She’s always been a milk and sugar type for her coffee.

“You use coconut creamer?” I ask my mom, nodding over to the carton on the counter.

My mom makes eye contact with Tino as he places my coffee in front of me, and I take a sip, craving the caffeine rush.

“No, I like the real deal in my coffee. But Tino apparently knows how you like things.” The insinuation in her voice makes me damn near choke on the piping hot coffee, and I cough in the process. “He went to the grocery store around the corner when they opened.”