Page 66

Chapter sixty-five

Samara

A note from the author: Please click the hyperlink at the end of this message. It contains a Spotify link for all four songs included in this chapter, in the order they should be played. I’ve done this so you’re able to play the music and fully immerse yourselves without leaving to click on each hyperlink. These were written with the average reading rate and the distraction the music would cause in mind. Readers are intended to listen to the music in the background as they imagine this scene. I hope you enjoy reading it! 3 1

This day has been a complete whirlwind. I’m not sure what to make of it, and while I was expecting to be ready to get home by now, I’m not.

We are having a fairly late dinner, and by the time we finish up, it’s already getting dark out.

There’s a band setting up under the large wooden pergola, and the palm trees are all lit with warm, twinkling lights.

“Ooh, we should join the party for our last night!” my mom tells us, and I’m not sure what’s shifted, but I actually want to.

Luca leans in closer to me, bringing his lips to my ear, and whispers, “Come on, princess. Let’s show them our new moves. It is Sunday.” He presses a kiss to the skin just below my ear, and a shiver races through me.

I nod. “Sure.”

His hand settles on my thigh. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

He squeezes my leg, and my thighs clench, accidentally trapping his hand there. He chuckles against my ear. “That’s okay, princess. You can keep my hand. I didn’t need it for anything but you anyway.”

I grab his wrist, moving it back to my thigh as my family starts to get up, making their way over to the dance floor in front of the band.

Luca pushes out of his chair, the metal feet scraping across the ground, but his hand never leaves my lap. As he hovers over me, he drags his hand up my body from my thigh to my soft tummy and over the side of my breast before making his descent down my arm to grasp my hand.

He helps me out of my chair, gathering me into his strong arms and warm embrace. I tell myself this is all for show. That we’re just giving my family the final push to really sell this fake relationship, but somewhere buried deep inside, I know that’s not true.

I like Luca.

I like Luca a lot.

And it might be the scariest thing I'll ever do.

He nuzzles his face into my neck, not having to bend much thanks to my nearly six-foot height and the added boost from my heels. I slide my hands up his firm chest and feel the heat radiating off him through his thin light-blue shirt. He looks insanely good in linen fabric, and I’m a little jealous that he can pull off white shorts.

“You smell so damn good, baby.” He moans, and the sound goes straight to my clit.

I nip the side of his neck, and I’m rewarded with a low rumble that vibrates through his chest and into my own.

He unwraps himself from me but maintains his hold on my hand, walking me over to the dance floor.

We catch the end of a song, and my parents finish in the center of the floor, with my dad spinning my mom dramatically before pulling her back into him.

Everyone cheers, and the huge smile lighting her face brings one to mine too. “Alright, princess, I’ll follow your lead,” Luca says to me, keeping his voice low. A giggle slips from my lips, and I smack my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide from the sound coming from my own mouth.

“Did you just—“ Luca lifts a hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but…”—he checks my cheeks too, and I squirm under him—“you just giggled .”

I roll my eyes playfully, dropping my hand back to my side.

He gathers my hands in his, dragging me to the center of the dance floor. “Have you ever danced bachata?” I ask him, and he nods.

“I have, but not often or recently.”

“Just let the music take you where you wanna go,” I tell him as the band starts playing a new song. 2

The beat is slow, and the male lead begins singing as Luca pulls our arms to our sides. His molten gaze singes me as our feet mingle together, and he slides his hand behind my back, maintaining his grip on my right hand.

The song has a fast buildup, but it’s long enough to allow us the time we need to adjust to one another’s movements.

The singer’s voice has trailed off, but returns quickly, the man’s deep baritone fills the space around us. The song hits a peak, and that’s the moment I realize what I’m really in for tonight.

What started as quick foot movements and swaying hips has very quickly turned into so much more.

Luca slides his hand down to the base of my spine, keeping our hips tucked together as my hand travels up his arm and around his neck. I grip the hair at the base of his skull, doing my best to stay in his grasp. Though something tells me, he’d never let me go.

“Yo no sé manana,” the man sings, and as if the moment couldn’t be any more telling, it’s a song about not knowing what tomorrow holds.

There’s a push and pull in the song, so that’s exactly what our bodies do. My hand trails down to his chest, and he maneuvers his body so our legs are staggered. I push off his chest as he maintains his grip on me, pulling himself into me. Our pelvises line up with one another, but I push off him as he drags me back in.

The song talks about living in the moment and not waiting for tomorrow to show affection to the people you love.

I turn my face away from his as he twirls me out before winding me back up into his arms. My low back extends, and he plants his hands firmly above my ass, providing the stability I need to dip backward. My gaze lands on the smiling faces of my family, and my chest fills with warmth.

My tense muscles relax, and I feel myself finally ready to let go. Just for tonight.

Luca spins us so our backs are pressed to one another, and we sway our hips, our asses touching as we do, and our hands are intertwined overhead.

He twirls us back together, and this time, his hands are covering my ass, grinding me into him. There’s a feral glint in his eyes, and my breaths become shallow.

God, he’s gorgeous.

“You’re fucking stunning, princess,” he mutters, twining one of his hands into my hair, pulling my face into his shoulder as we dance in place, our hips continuing to sway with the beat, but we’re both working to catch our breath.

“We can’t let your parents show us up, sweetheart.” He breathes into my ear before pushing me away from him, only to draw me back in. We maintain about a foot of space between us as he holds one of my hands and presses his other to my lower belly. Luca leans his top half forward, and I mirror him, shimmying our shoulders and pressing our foreheads together for a beat before he spins me so my back is pressed to his front.

We press ourselves tightly together, grinding against each other as we sway our hips, and I slide down his body and back up. Luca drags his hands up my sides and pulls my arms up and over our heads, as he rests his cheek against the side of my head.

My pulse is racing, and my thighs burn with the effort it takes to stay upright while this gorgeous man has me in his arms, and I feel like I could shatter in his embrace.

When the song begins to speed up for the last time, Luca must be able to tell because he widens his stance, lowering himself into a squat, and positions me over his right leg, settling me down onto him. I jump off his leg, smiling brightly as he pulls me back onto his thigh, my legs swinging backward and then to the front to straddle him as I grind against his knee. He bucks his leg up, pulling me into him, and as the song comes to a close, he twirls me out, my left arm and his right fully extended before he rolls me back into his chest, tugging me tightly to him. Everyone claps loudly, whistling at the couples still left on the dance floor, and of course, my parents are included.

They have such wide smiles as they look dreamily into each other’s eyes, and I can’t help the pang I feel in my chest.

I want that.

The next song is “Mi Corazoncito.” 3 Frustration flares through me at just how annoyingly perfect these songs are for describing the feelings even I don’t fully understand. It’s a song about heartache, regret, desire for reconciliation, and the rollercoaster of emotions that can be felt during the back and forth of a relationship you aren’t sure is meant to be but can’t seem to keep fighting.

Luca and I maintain eye contact as he walks backward, very dramatically might I add. He keeps about two yards between us, and as the music speeds up, he starts to mirror my movements, bending his elbows and shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

We close the distance between us, and he reaches out for my hands, drawing them into his chest and holding them there as we bounce around one another with quick steps. Luca’s smoldering gaze shifts to a small grin, making that dimple I hate to love pop out from the corner of his mouth. “How do you do that with your hips?” he asks.

I look down between us, trying to figure out what he means because he looked like he was doing fine all on his own.

I drag my hands down his chest, reveling in the way his muscles ripple under my touch, before removing them and taking a step back, standing in front of his on flat feet. “I think the heels help a bit because it has the balls of my feet already in the right position for it, but”—I point to either side of my hips—“you kind of shift your weight between one foot to the next, moving your hips like a washing machine.”

He smirks. “A washing machine?”

A loud laugh escapes me, but I rest my hands on his hips. “Mirror my movements, hip up, roll your abdomen into the movement, and bend this knee”—I point to the opposite one—“and end on the ball of this foot.”

He does as I say, and no surprise to anyone, he executes it perfectly. “Yep, just like that. Now do it again but on the other side.”

“Like this?” he asks, snaking his hands out to grab my hands, twining his fingers through them.

I nod, my breath caught in my throat as he runs his lips over my knuckles. “Thanks, principessa, ” he murmurs, dragging my body back into his.

Something tells me this man knew exactly what he was doing the whole time.

He moves us around the center of the dance floor, spinning me out and twirling me back into his body. When the song hits a high point, we pull away from one another, our hands still interlocked as I twist, and we drop to the floor with my legs straight and core tight like a plank. Luca keeps me hovering a foot off the ground before dragging me back up against his hard chest. My hands rest on his chest, and he runs a thumb over my cheek, tucking my hair back behind my ear.

He pulls me in close, rolling his hips against mine. He groans low in my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “Fuck, princess. This wasn’t supposed to get me so hard, especially not in public,” he whines.

I love the sound of this man, desperate and always so needy. He makes sure I know exactly what he’s thinking all the time, and I appreciate it as someone who has to rely on my own perception of a situation all the time. Sometimes it’s nice just to have someone tell me what they’re thinking instead of making me guess. It gets exhausting.

“Sounds like a personal problem,” I whisper, not bothering to hide the laughter from my voice.

“We are a couple, Samara. We could tackle it together,” he says, sliding his hands down my sides and cupping my ass so my front is pressed against him.

By divine intervention, the song changes again. 4 It gives me the opportunity to swing out of his grasp, a playful smile turning my lips as I dance around him. I don’t miss the loud groan he releases before shaking his limbs out and positioning himself in front of me.

I also don’t miss the massive bulge in his dress slacks that he’s got tucked into the waistband.

Damn this man and his perfect dick.

Luca places his hands on my hips, dropping down low and spinning me around before he pops back up, taking my hands in his and staggering us so my knee is between his.

This song is a lot more upbeat; our movements are faster, and when he spins me out, he winks over at my dad, who swaps with him. Suddenly, my dad and I are dancing, and my mom is in Luca’s arms. She has her head thrown back, laughing loudly at something he’s said.

“Cyaan kip yuh yeye dem offa ’im cyaah you?” 5 my dad asks, smirking at me.

A small grin forms on my lips, and I shake my head, turning my attention fully on him.

“Hard not to,” I admit.

“Yuh difrent wid ’im. Mi hav neva si yuh like dis bifuor wid nobady else. Mi like ih,” he says. 6

Heat creeps over my cheeks, and I avert my gaze, but Dad swings me out, and he and Luca execute a perfect swap. I’m now back in Luca’s arms, and his warmth is radiating into me like a furnace.

“Your mom wants us to get married and have your babies. She recognizes the error of her ways and now sees that Jasiel isn't the better man,” he tells me with a confident smile.

“Mhmm, I’m sure. And what’d you tell her?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

He pulls me into his chest, winding an arm up and twining his fingers through my hair as his other hand rests just above my ass over the bare skin of my backless dress. “I gave her the PG version of what I’m really thinking,” he murmurs.

“And what’s the R-rated version?”

“I’ll give you anything you want, princess. I’d gladly fill you up and leave you begging for more of me.”

My thighs clench, and I can’t muster up any words for him because right now, I couldn’t think of a better idea.

We continue dancing for the next hour, the sun setting on the horizon, lighting the sky up with beautiful shades of pink and purple. Luca takes turns dancing with Mom, Vea, and even my dad. When I’m beyond exhausted, and my feet are swollen, he sets me up with a chair to rest my feet on before going back out on the dance floor for one last dance with my nieces and nephews after the previous thirty minutes of them begging for a dance with him.

It’s adorable, and I sincerely hate to admit that.

The palms of my hands sting from clapping so much by the time he’s done, and the band announces they’ve got one more song for the night.

Luca approaches me with his arm extended. “May I have this dance, princess?” he asks, and Vea whistles at us, shooting me a suggestive wink.

Reluctantly, I stand, taking his hand in mine as the band finishes getting ready for the last song of the night.

“You ready to do it up big?” Luca asks me with a sly grin.

I shake my head, but my smile gives me away. “Only because it’s the last one,” I tell him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, smirking.

His multicolored eyes glitter under the soft lights around us, and my heart tightens in my chest, my pulse speeding up as the band begins to play the last song. 7

This band and their impeccable music selection is gonna do me in. This is my all-time favorite bachata song. It’s about love, vulnerability, and self-acceptance.

By this point, Luca has totally mastered this dance style. We start off easy, working around one another, shifting to stay in-line with each other while staying as close as possible.

He’s not only rolling his hips but his shoulders now too. He drags the back of his knuckles over my cheek and runs his palm over my side. A shiver runs down my spine from where his fingertips settle over the exposed flesh along my back.

We pull away from one another, but he grips my hands, and I roll my neck into the movement, my hair cascading in an arch around me.

When I right myself, Luca’s lips are parted slightly and his eyes are glassy. He blinks rapidly, swallowing hard and sucking in a strained breath through his nose.

He snaps out of his daze, bringing my back to his front and winding our right arms over my head and our left arms in front of my abdomen. He turns me again to face him, breaking the connection between our hands but dragging his over my hair and down my body.

Our bodies move in sync as if perfectly created for one another.

My mind feels foggy as I take in this perfect moment.

This man is more than I could’ve ever anticipated, and the way my body lights up for him leaves me in a daze. I don’t feel like myself at all, and I’m not even sure I don’t like it. What disturbs me most is that I think I do.

He makes me feel alive and wanted. My body is on fire, and my heart is about to explode as my pulse skyrockets. Luca drags me into him, winding his arms tightly around my midsection and upper back as he extends his back, dragging our bodies in a circle. He swings me out, pulling me back into his firm grip before spinning me with an arm over my head. As the end of the song approaches, he rolls his hips into mine again, matching my steps and stepping farther into my space.

He runs the tip of his nose along the side of my neck, nipping at the skin. He whispers huskily, “Ready, principessa? ”

I nod stupidly because I don’t have a clue for what.

Next thing I know, I’m being spun out, twirled back into his arms and dipped so low I feel my hair graze the floor before he pulls me back up and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, swaying us side to side. My heartbeat hammers violently against my chest.

We’re panting, and everyone is cheering loudly. My whole family is clapping and whistling at us, and as much as Luca’s stolen the breath straight from my lungs, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt better.

Fireworks crackle through the sky, turning everyone’s attention away from us and back to the bright colors erupting over the glass-like water. It’s beautiful, but nothing could be as stunning as the look on Luca’s face as he smiles down at me.

1. Chapter 65 Playlist

2. Yo No Sé Manana – Luis Enrique

3. Mi Corazoncito – Aventura

4. Tengo Un Amor – Toby Love

5. Jamaican Patois: "Can’t keep your eyes off of him, can you?"

6. Jamaican Patois: "You’re different with him. I’ve never seen you like this before with anyone else. I like it."

7. Corazón Sin Cara – Prince Royce