Punished (Calavera Hotels #1)

Chapter Thirty-One Mireya

A week flies by as I prepare for final exams. I have all but moved into the penthouse with Adrian. We are lying on the couch, his legs around me as I lean back into him. His arm is draped over my chest, holding my hand, our fingers laced together. I convinced him to let me watch Vampire Diaries. He hates this show, even if, low-key, he knows he’s the Mexican version of Damien.

“Do you think it’s weird we found each other again after all these years?” I have convinced myself it was fate, finding him, but I’m not sure what he thinks about it.

“No. I think if two people are meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other.” I feel his hot breath on me from behind when he speaks, his voice deep and raw, sending tingles throughout my body.

“I can still remember that first day you walked me home. When those assholes were picking on me.”

“Mmmhmm.” His lips move to my neck. I suck in a breath as he kisses me there.

“Adrian! This is serious. Why did you stick up for me that day?” I turn to face him. There is this aching part of me that needs to know where this all started. Like the answer would be enough to understand how it would all end. He stares back at me with that familiar gaze, the darkness that drew me in.

“I saw those boys throwing rocks at you, and it pissed me off, so I did something about it.”

“But you could have left it at that. Why did you keep walking me home after that?”

“Your dad paid me to.” I gasp and move to leave when he pulls me back, so I’m sitting on his lap. He laughs as I pout.

“I’m just kidding, diosa. I kept walking you home because I wanted to figure you out. I always saw you as tempting and beautiful. After I beat the shit out of those boys, I thought you would run off. I thought you would be afraid of me like everyone else. But you smiled and thanked me, and that was the first time anyone made me feel worthy.” His confession pulls me down deeper. That day he made me feel worthy, too. I had consistently dealt with kids poking fun at my weight, and he saw past it. I was surprised that anyone would stick up for me.

“But your dad did thank me for walking you home. I should have asked him to pay me.” I playfully slap his arm and he laughs.

“What did he say?”

“He told me that no matter what anyone said about me, that he would always respect me for protecting you.” I picture my father and a young Adrian. My father was a man of few words, but when he did speak, he was always direct and honest. Just like Adrian. He always challenged me to embrace who I was, despite my mother tearing me down.

“I miss him. I think I would be a more confident woman had he been around to raise me, instead of the insecurities I have now because of my mother.”

“You can’t let what she’s done determine your self worth.” He pulls me closer to him and kisses me softly. His lips are soft as he moves down to my ear and kisses me again.

“Did you like taking control the other night?” I lean back as he moves to my neck and collarbone, the delicate kisses a match to the parts of my soul only he could ignite.

“Yes.” I hadn’t fully taken control, but I had felt alive in the moment. It had turned me on to speak my desires. Suppressing them doesn’t make sense to me anymore. Not when I am with someone so willing to give me the pleasure I crave.

“Tell me what you like, diosa, so I can worship you.” My skin tingles at his breath on my ear. The words fireworks to my core. I’m in big trouble if this man’s voice alone makes me wet. My vagina should be researched like Pavlov’s dog, since apparently Adrian has conditioned it as well.

“Or would you rather I punish you?” His hands roam over my breasts–over the hard peaks forming–begging him to squeeze, suck, and bite them, desperate for him to mark them.

A loud bang at the door puts out the fire building in me. I jump up, and Adrian lets out a sigh as he walks to the door. I sit on the couch and wrap the San Marcos blanket over me.

“WHAT!” he yells as he fixes his erection and grabs his gun off the coffee table, and places it into his waistband.

“Adrian, open up.” I recognize the voice. It’s Thalia, her voice is frantic.

“What do you want, troll?” He looks out the peephole, unwilling to open the door. She keeps knocking until he opens it.

“Really, pendejo?” she starts, then her eyes catch sight of me. Thank the universe, Buddha, Jesus, and whoever else that I’m clothed right now, or else this would have been very awkward.

“We have to go to the compound; there’s an emergency.” A smile draws on her face when she looks at me again.

“Ewww, were you guys trying to get freak nasty under a San Marcos blanket?” My eyes shoot down to the fuzzy tiger blanket I am hiding under. I laugh at her playful tone and Adrian rolls his eyes. I know her well enough to know this is her extended olive branch. We’ll talk about our problems in ten years. She doesn’t do emotional stuff, and I have always respected her for that. It takes the pressure off both of us.

Adrian is already grabbing more of his guns from the armoire in his room and looking for his shoes.

“Do you have your medical kit? Some of the men are injured bad; they were attacked crossing the border.”

“No,” Adrian says.

“I’ll grab my medical bag,” I say and smile at her.

“No. I don’t want you at the compound,” he says again.

“Adrian, I’ve gone to the compound plenty of times before you,” I say, hoping to ease his tension, but he only looks more annoyed. I look to Thalia for some help.

“She will be fine. We’ll both be there to keep an eye on her,” she reassures him.

Adrian sighs, but it’s two against one.

I t’s times like these I wish I learned more Spanish. Sure, I can order a taco, sing karaoke, or understand a basic nursery rhyme, but trying to explain care procedures is way out of my comfort zone.

I’m working on setting up an IV for one of the gunned down men, while Gael removes a bullet from another. He’s far from ugly, but I try not to look anymore than I need to with Adrian breathing down my neck. Thalia left with Conejo to figure out the source of the attack. Patricio is doing most of the translating for me, since Adrian refuses to be of any assistance. He stands with his lips tight and his nostrils flaring the entire time. I don’t have the heart to tell him that, as a nurse, I will, in fact, be touching other men. I have a feeling he would start showing up at the hospital every day to monitor me.

The man I’m helping says something to me as I am cleaning up a wound on his leg. I look up to Patricio, but Adrian answers the man instead. The man’s eyes go wide at whatever Adrian says, and I make out the apologies he offers. Patricio’s expression stays neutral as he shakes his head, a small laugh trying to escape, but when I look at Adrian, there is no trace of humor on it. I look back down .

“He said you look like shit and smell like a wet dog. But don’t worry, I told him that was rude, and he apologized immediately.” A smirk is etched on his face.

I arch my brow, then roll my eyes, as I finish bandaging up the now nervous man.

Patricio lets out a laugh.

“Calm down, killer. We still have a few more men to go.” Patricio pats Adrian’s back, earning him a hostile glare.

We walk out of the room so I can give Gael my report.

“What did he say really, Adrian?” I say, crossing my arms.

He grabs me by the arm and slams me against the wall in the hallway.

“It doesn’t matter what he said, because you belong to me and only me.” I roll my eyes, and his hand reaches to my throat. “I don’t like watching you touch other guys. I’d much rather watch them bleed out. I am trying to be merciful, but I am ready to go.” He releases my throat.

“Why don’t you go find Thalia and I’ll finish up here. These men’s lives are important. They are someone’s uncle or brother. How would you feel if it was Patricio who was bleeding out when there was a nurse on hand to save him?”

“Please don’t answer that,” Patricio says, entering the hallway.

“Mireya, finish up, and Adrian, come with me to double check the security of the estate.”

Adrian narrows his eyes at me, and I watch as he silently debates his next move. I release a sigh of relief when he follows Patricio to the front door. I work in peace over the next hour, assisting Gael with a bullet wound and stitches. When Adrian returns, I pack up my bags and head down the stairs to the living room. Adrian is more on edge the longer we stay and wait for Thalia to return, so I suggest we walk down to Don Vicente’s so he can relax.

“Adriano,” the old man says from the porch, and I notice the smile on Adrian’s face.

“Hola, Don Vicente.” He takes me in and smiles.

“Mireya. Mireya, mija, is that you?” He looks to Adrian, and his smile broadens on his face. This man has always been so kind to me. As long as I’ve been friends with Thalia, he has treated me like one of his own grandchildren. Telling me family histories and giving me advice through his own personal life lessons. I adore him for that.

I walk up to the porch, but stop when Adrian grabs my hand. I freeze at the gesture. His hand is warm in mine. We usually stay at the penthouse, so I’m not sure if he wants to openly announce whatever we have going on. I’m not sure if it means to him what it means to me.

“Abuelo, this is my girlfriend.” Butterflies fill me. I don’t know who’s happier in that moment. Me, for being introduced as his girlfriend, or Don Vicente, for being called Abuelo.