Page 65 of Rio

“You care about this work,” he says quietly, nodding at my documents.

“I care passionately about people who get trampled on.For people who can’t fight for themselves.For me, I see law as a weapon for the voiceless.”

He nods.“I like that about you.I admire you for it.”

“Unfortunately, many times, you’re the problem.You and your family and the companies you hide behind.”

“I’m not my father.”

“I don’t believe you are.”

He says it so many times.It’s like he’s afraid he might turn into him.I stand up, and make to move away.Where to, I don’t know.Maybe I’ll go to the washroom.He grabs my arm.

“Don’t.Don’t run away like you always do, Raquel.I don’t bite.”

But this is too close for comfort, and he’s right, I do run.I run because Rio is everything I should walk away from, but can’t.He’s everything I shouldn’t want, and everything I can’t resist.Danger wrapped in charm.Sinful temptation dressed in a perfect T.This man lowers my guard as easily as heat melts ice.I don’t trust myself around him.

“We keep meeting.São Paulo, New York, and now here.Every time I try to forget you, every time I go someplace to empty my mind, you turn up.”His voice is raspy, filled with desperation.

His words reverberate in my chest.I shift from one foot to the next.He’s still perched on the edge of the desk, and I’m standing awkwardly to the side of his thigh.But he hasn’t let go of my arm.

“I wouldn’t read too much into it,” I say.

“Once, sure.Twice, maybe, but three times?”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“Because I didn’t want the first time you were in my room to be about air conditioning and Wi-Fi.”

My breath catches.I stand, but we’re inches apart now, my heart thudding in my ears.His eyes fall to my mouth.

“It’s high time we talked about it, don’t you think?Tell me you’ve never thought about me, and I won’t bring this up again, but last night was special.”His voice is barely a whisper.

I think back to the lagoon, to us swimming around one another.To the streams of neon blue we left in our wake.“It was.”

“I dream about you, Raquel.I think about you.After Miami, I came here wanting to forget all about you, so imagine my shock and surprise to find you here.”

The mood changes.From heavy with unspoken words, to honesty, and lightness.If he kissed me now, I’d let him.He tugs me towards him, guiding me between his thighs.His palm strokes along my arm, before sliding up to cup my face.I lean in, instinctively, and our bodies brushing, breath mingling.

Our first kiss is tentative, like we’re tasting the idea of each other.But when I press closer and feeling the hard length of him through the fabric, something in both of us snaps.His hand drifts down to palm my breast through my vest, stroking the underside with his thumb.He holds me there like he’s weighing me, assessing every curve, memorizing my shape.

A slickness dampens my panties, and we kiss again, deeper now, hungrier.My fingers slide down, slowly, unsure, but when he murmurs against my lips, “Touch me, princesa,” I wrap my fingers around him, tracing his length through his pants.He thickens in my hand, heat surging, and I press flush against him, greedily taking more of that closeness.

His hands roam lower, finding the waistband of my shorts, his thumbs brushing my skin.He fumbles at the button, impatient, while I grind against him, needing friction.We kiss again, deeper, longer, tongues sliding, breathing each other in, until his groan rumbles against my mouth, raw and wanting.

I need more.I need him.Naked, skin to skin.And then, my phone rings.It’s happening again.Just when we’re about to get close, my stupid phone rings.I bet it’s Pierce, again.The man is a parasite, a constant shadow I can’t shake.He drains me, frustrate me, suffocates me.Every interaction which him feels like a chain tightening around me, squeezing the life out of me.I can’t live like this.

I make to move away but Rio pulls me closer.“Let it go.”His thumb circles my nipple, but I force myself to reach for my phone.

“The generator is working now, ma’am.All of the amenities are now available again.”

I say “thank you,” but I doubt he heard me.Excitement shoots through me, thick and heavy, and I know how this night will end, if I let it.With great determination, I pull away from Rio.“I have to go.”It’s automatic, how my words tumble out.Ignoring my heart.My wants.My desire.

His lips brush against mine.“We’re only getting started, princesa.”His hardness pokes me, and I’m reminded of him showering, of the way my name fell from his lips.

“The generator’s working,” I manage to say, as his lips tease mine, and his hand kneads my breast.I want to stroke him again, but it will lead to more.Things I desperately need, but the injunction weighs heavy on me.“I need to finish this.”

“Finish?We haven’t even started, princesa.”