Tug (23 page)

Tug gets out of the car. A second later he opens my door and reaches for my hand. I step out, and he places a sweater over my shoulders. I smile and slip my arms in the holes.

“Are you okay? You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“You might have wanted to ask before we drove out here, but no, I’m not afraid of heights.”

“Good, because Del Mar from the air at sunset is gorgeous.”

I have mixed emotions as we approach the balloon, which is already inflated. I’m not afraid of heights, although I wouldn’t say I was thrilled by them, either. It’s the lack of control that concerns me about floating through the air in a balloon.

An older gentlemen in khakis and a polo shirt engraved with a rainbow balloon on the left pec approaches Tug with his hand out.

“Mr. Hunter, I’m Greg, and I’ll be piloting your balloon for you this evening.”
His balloon?
I look up and notice the bold lettering on the side of the balloon, spelling out
Gibson Capital
. “She’s all ready to go.”

“Thank you, Greg. This is my girlfriend, Maria Santiago.”

I shake Greg’s hand firmly. Maybe a little too firmly, because he puts his other hand over the outside of mine and says, “It’s going to be fine, Miss Santiago. I have thousands of flights under my belt.” He smiles and releases my hand.

I relax a little when Tug takes my hand and walks me to the balloon. His strong arms slip around my waist and he hoists me into the rickety basket. A rush of warm air sweeps over my face, blowing my hair back. Tug climbs over the side and stands next to me. Greg follows Tug and effortlessly leaps over the side of the balloon.

Greg moves to the back of the balloon to prepare for the flight. I stand in the front middle of the basket, and Tug moves in behind me, bracing his hands on either side of me. “Breathe. You’re going to love this.”

My heart rate kicks up in anticipation. The excitement coursing through my veins makes me smile. Several people begin unsecuring the ropes that anchor the balloon to the ground. Once the final rope is free, the balloon rises slowly into the air. I hear Greg mumbling and turn to see him talking into a headset.

As the balloon continues to rise, I feel weightless, as though we’re drifting in the breeze. The breathtaking view stretches for miles out over the Pacific Ocean. Pink and orange streaks paint the sky, and the sun appears over the horizon in a brilliant glowing ball.

“This is beautiful.”

Tug rests his chin on my shoulder from behind. His hand skims my thigh, moving under my sundress. “And so are you. I like this dress,” he whispers, his fingers inching higher.

“What are you doing?’ I ask, peeking at Greg over my shoulder. He’s oblivious to our presence.

“Watching the sunset,” Tug replies. The smug tone of his voice makes me giggle. “Relax.”

I sigh and lean my head back against his chest. My breath hitches when his fingers slide under my panties. I open my mouth to protest, but hear Tug whisper in my ear.

“Shhh … breathe … just watch the sunset.”

The view, the warm air, the adrenaline pumping through my heart toy with my desire. Clearly I have a lack of modesty or I’m some kind of exhibitionist, because I move my feet slightly farther apart. Tug smiles against my cheek.

His fingers slide through my sex. “You’re so wet.”

I bite my lip to keep from moaning. He slips two fingers inside me, the stretching divine, and though I know Greg could be watching, my body can’t deny his touch.

“You letting me do this makes me so hard. I’m going to fuck you the moment this balloon lands.”

His promise causes a quiet moan to escape my throat, and I cover my mouth with my hand. My eyebrows crease in agony. His fingers are still buried inside me, and I move my hips, trying to alleviate the ache.

“You want me to make you come?”

“Please.”

“Please what?” he asks, his voice full of cocky confidence.

“Please make me come,” I say loudly, eagerly, not concerned whether Greg can hear me. My only concern is Tug bringing me relief.

“Enjoy the sunset, and don’t close your eyes,” he commands softly in my ear, twisting his fingers inside me before slowly removing them. They slide over my sensitive flesh. I fight to keep my eyes open, as my only focus is on the sensual feeling of his fingers working over my sex. With each stroke, the pressure mounts in my core, and the sun dips lower into the ocean.

His fingers push back inside me and work at a torturous rhythm. I taste blood from the grip my teeth have on my lip, but I don’t want to make a sound. I feel the exhalations of Tug’s hot breath increasing the closer I get to exploding. His teeth graze along my neck just as his thumb presses firmly into my clit. I can’t contain the small whimper.

Suddenly he removes his fingers and works them over my clit fast and aggressively. Spasms jolt through my sex, and I throw my head back against his chest, lifting one leg and bracing my foot on the weave of the basket, writhing against his hand.

“Let go, baby,” he exhales into my ear, his voice deep and sinful.

With one last stroke of Tug’s fingers, the orgasm ripples through my body in a wave so strong I nearly collapse. Through my blurry vision, I see a burst of green as the sun disappears behind the black sea. Tug removes his hand from my panties and spins me around. I glance quickly at Greg, who is talking into the ear piece but doesn’t seem to notice me. My cheeks burn with fervor as I peer up at Tug.

He caresses my cheek. “I love your cheeks this shade of red, but don’t be embarrassed. He heard nothing.” Tug leans over. “I’ve fantasized about that happening since I booked the flight, and you making it come true delights me.”

“I’m delightful?”

He smirks. “Very, and sexy as hell.”

T
he balloon landing is not nearly as graceful as takeoff. It’s actually quite a bumpy affair, and I’m grateful Tug is pressed up against me for it. Several people grab onto the basket it, steadying it as we come to a stop. Once a few ropes are secured, Tug hops out and then helps me climb over the side. His hand grips mine firmly, and he starts walking. I nearly trip, keeping up with him.

“Where are we going?”

He stops and spins to face me. “To the office.” My gaze darts over his shoulder to a small tan building. There’s no sign on the front and no one appears to be inside.

“What is it?”

“It’s a small office for entertaining clients when we bring them out for balloon rides.”

I feel nervous about meeting anyone, especially after what we just did in the balloon. I’m sure my skin is a nice shade of flush-fucked-red. “If you need to speak with a client, I can wait in the car.”

“We aren’t meeting anyone. The building is empty.” He grips my wrist and brings my hand to his erection. “We’re going inside so you can deal with this.” His words come out in a painful growl.

A
fter
taking care of
Tug at the office, we end up at his loft and engage in a marathon of sex. His stamina is astounding. I’m starting to wonder if he’s human, or derived from some divine force in the universe. Only a man touched by the gods can both look and perform as he does.

I’m suddenly too tired to tell him everything I wanted to about my past. I decide it’s better to wait until the morning when I’m coherent. As I lie next to him, I’m so conflicted. I think about Queen Crazy threatening to go to the press. They would print my name, which would not only destroy Tug’s career, but insure that Eduardo was able to find me. Javier’s father is a dangerous man. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to Tug because of me. I know the press will photograph us eventually.

We don’t spend a lot of time in San Diego outside of Tug’s loft. I’ve been careful and have tried to hide my face the couple of times a photographer approached us. Tug usually ignores their pleas for my name.

My only hope is dealing with my problems before Eduardo finds me. I should pick up more shifts at work. Even then, it will take years to raise the money I need. I’m walking a very dangerous tightrope, and sooner or later, I’m going to fall. Maybe I can convince Tug to move to Mexico with us. Still unsure of what to do, I finally drift asleep.

The following morning, Tug’s in the kitchen drinking coffee. His suit is always intimidating, especially this morning. He throws me an adorable smile, and my will to be truthful with him disappears. I have to find a way to free myself from Eduardo first. I can’t risk anything happening to Tug.

“Good morning, sweet girl. Did you sleep well?”

I say, “Yes.” But honestly, I hardly slept at all.

“I love waking up next to you.”

“You do?”

His smile reaches his eyes. Happiness shines from the amber rings around his pupils. “I want to wake up to you every morning.”

My mouth opens, and I stare at him for several seconds in stunned silence.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I got a bit distracted last night, and we didn’t get a chance to talk, but I’ve wanted to say something for a while now.”

I shake my head furiously, uncertainty snaking its way into my thoughts. “Tug … my papa, Javier … it’s a lot.”

He grabs my arms. “I want all of it. Do you know why?”

I stare at him blankly.

“Because I love you, Maria. I want you to move in with me. You, Franco, and Javier. I want us to be a family.”

I shake my head again, trying to clear the fog. I must still be asleep. I have to be dreaming. He just said he loved me. He loves me. I love him, too, and I want to tell him, but the worries in my mind outweigh my love.

“Here?” I ask, glancing around his loft. There’s plenty of room, but it’s in the States.

“Here, or we can buy a house in the suburbs.” His smile is so hopeful I want to cry. “Whatever you want.”

Suddenly everything between us feels like it’s happening too fast. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. Moving in together is a big commitment.”

And living in the States is out of the question until I deal with my past.

“I’m ready for this, but take as long as you need. My love is endless.”

We exit Tug’s building; my heart is still racing. Moving in with Tug feels like a risk worth taking, and I’m just about to turn around and tell him I’m ready to take the jump when clicking invades my ears. Voices shout at Tug, asking him who I am and if we’re serious. To my horror, Tug tells them my name and professes his love for me. I panic and pull him back into the building. He follows me to the elevator and back to his loft. I’m freaking out, pacing the floor frantically, my hands flying through the air as I mumble to myself.

Tug rests against the back of the couch, watching me for several minutes before he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Those pictures are going to hit the Internet any second. You told them my name. They know who I am.”

He stands tall and smiles. I know he thinks the photos and revealing who I am aren’t a big deal. But it’s life-altering.

“So what? I told them your name because I don’t care if they know who you are.”

“Right? You’re okay with your clients, the people you work with, knowing the girl you’re in love with used to be a prostitute?”

He grabs my arms to stop me from pacing. “Yes. I don’t give a shit. My publicists will smooth it over in a day.”

My mind drifts to my responsibilities. “Oh, my God. Javier and Papa. I have to go to them. I need to get back to Mexico, now.”

I text Davey that I won’t be in today and toss my phone in my purse.

“What is going on?” Tug asks, trying to pull me against his chest. I resist and take a step back. “You’re scaring me.”

Calmly, I say, “You should be scared.”

“It’s Javier’s father, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Is he looking for you?”

“Yes.”

“He wants Javier? Why are you keeping him from him?”

“He doesn’t want Javier. I need to go to Mexico, please.”

“No. You aren’t leaving. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on!”

His arms get around me, and I thrash against him.

“This will never work. I can’t be with you. I’m going to Mexico to get Javier and my papa, and then we’re moving far away. I’m sorry.”