Punished (Calavera Hotels #1)

Chapter Fourteen Adrian

I can’t sleep. I thought I would be able to once I knew my mom was safe, but I hadn’t realized how stressful the process would be. Images from that farm where they kept her appear every time I close my eyes. Young girls drugged and disoriented. Even in prison, if we found out grown men were hurting children, we would cut their fucking heads off and all play basketball with them. Even criminals like us loathe pedophiles.

But I know my mother is safe now. Patricio refused to leave, and she seems more content to see him than me, so I didn’t fight him on it. The same way I didn’t fight him over the busty brunette sleeping on my couch. When she looked at me tonight, I could see the pity in her eyes. Poor Adrian . I don’t want her pity. Not when she played a part in my incarceration. To be honest, my anger has no landing point right now. I am pissed at everyone who had been in that room. I am mad at Patricio for not protecting my mother from his brother, mad at Mireya for letting Bryan use her as an alibi, and mad at myself for being born. I hated the way that doctor stood up for Mireya, and I had wanted to reach out and rip his heart out of his chest. He was the exact person I had envisioned her with when I let her go. The type who could offer her the world, and yet I still can’t see her with anyone but me. I hate myself for that, too.

Watching her with my mom made me want to stop this push and pull game with her. They are the only two women I have ever cared about. I can see why Patricio asked her to stay. I know she cares about my mom, and not just because she’s a nurse, but because she cares about this family. My family.

I look at the clock on my end table and I see it’s 4AM. I throw the blankets off me. Trying to sleep at this point is useless. The penthouse is quiet, and I need a cigarette and something to eat.

I’m mouth deep into some corn flakes, trying to stay quiet, when I hear footsteps coming from the living room. I reach for the gun in the back of my pants but stop when I see her. Mireya is walking around the living room in her bra and panties .

What the fuck?

This is exactly why I didn’t want her to stay. I knew it would be awkward, but I didn’t think in a million years she would be stripping down and walking around my penthouse half naked. She bumps into the couch but keeps walking towards me. I’m already prepared to ask her what the fuck she’s trying to do when I notice the deranged look on her face. As if she is a zombie, mumbling but detached.

Holy shit. She’s not… sleepwalking, is she?

One of my old cell mates would strip down to his whitey tighties and wander the halls. He had been locked up most of his life, and the senior guards were aware of the behavior. They would warn us not to wake him. He would get violent if we tried, but as long as nobody woke him up, he would eventually wander back to the cell on his own. Other times, they would gently guide him back to his bed. He was already prone to violence in his waking state; no one wanted to see what a disoriented version of him looked like.

Mireya walks past me with her eyes open, but barely acknowledges my existence. I check down the hall to see my mom’s room is closed. Patricio is in there, and I don’t want him to see her like this. She walks to the patio, and I am right behind her as she makes her way to the pool. She sits on a patio chair, and when I move to face the front of her, I have to do a double take to make sure I am seeing this clearly. She is sitting on the edge of the chair and her legs are spread wide. She’s mumbling something, but I can’t make out what she’s saying, so I move in closer.

“Adrian.”

“Adrian.”

“Fuck me, Adrian.”

My spine straightens.

Hijo de su chingada madre. Motherfucker.

Did she say what I think she said?

My dick sure as hell heard that as it grows beneath my sweats.

I don’t have time to tell it to calm down when I see her striding in a seductive way right towards my pool. I run my hand over my face as I watch her plump breasts bounce. She’s walking on her tiptoes, like she’s walking a runway in heels. I can’t help but laugh. If I had my cellphone, I would record this shit. Blackmail her with it. I step in front of her. She stops, like she can see me, but her eyes are glazed over. She’s still stuck in whatever erotic dream she’s in. I gently turn her around, so she is facing the penthouse. The touch of her skin doing nothing for my hard on, and I pray Patricio stays in that room. I doubt any of this looks innocent. Her half dressed and my hard on. She barely registers my touch and stands still. I move to the front of her to see if she is finally gaining consciousness. My eyes roam over her red lace bra and the see-through panties, her cunt glistening under the Texas moon light. We are only a few inches away when she runs her hand over her breasts. It’s seductive, and it only gets better when she runs that same hand into her underwear and begins to massage herself. Her hand palming her shaved pussy as her middle and ring finger slide in and out. My eyes are glued to the movement. The moon continues to shine on her, the brisk air hardening her brown nipples under the thin material. She looks like a goddess, and sounds like one, when she begins to moan. The sound is low and sweet. The long syllables ringing out, an invitation to join her. I grab my erect dick and begin to pump it at the same speed. Back and forth, back and forth. I can hear her wetness as she moves her fingers quicker. What kind of sex demon comes out of her at night if she’s masturbating while she sleepwalks? Does she do this every night?

I start pumping my cock faster, my strokes matching hers. I pull up my shorts just in time to catch my cum shooting out. She’s breathing deeply as she tries to catch her breath from her own self-induced orgasm. Then, like nothing happened, she walks back into the penthouse. I follow behind her but guide her back to my room. There’s no fucking way I’m going to chance her walking around like that with Patricio in the other room. I guide her into my bed and whisper for her to lie down as she continues to mumble. She lies down effortlessly as she returns to sleep, but not before I hear her murmur again. “Fuck me, Adrian.”