“Christ,” Hector muttered, interrupting Ralphie, tossing back the last of his third beer and standing. “I’m takin’ Sadie to bed, which room is hers?”
“Top of the stairs, to the right. She has her own bathroom. Are you staying?” Ralphie answered and asked.
“Fuck yeah, I’m stayin’,” Hector replied.
“You need to borrow some pajamas?” Ralphie offered.
“Ralphie,” Buddy said in a low warning
Hector stared at Ralphie a beat then two, finally he said shortly, “No.”
Ralphie flicked out his hand. “Our casa is your casa or however it goes. Make yourself at home.”
Hector’s glance cut across the both of them which Buddy figured was his way of saying “goodnight” and he started to move from the room.
He stopped when Ralphie called, “You know, some of that amazing ‘fuck me’ sex Sadie was going on about while she was freaking out this evening wouldn’t be amiss in this situation. Stress relief.”
Hector’s eyes slashed to Ralphie and Buddy could swear he looked like he didn’t know whether to throw something or laugh out loud.
“Ralphie, shut up,” Buddy said.
“I’m just saying,” Ralphie replied.
“Shut up,” Buddy repeated.
“I’m just saying,” Ralphie repeated too.
Hector gave up and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Ralphie gave Buddy a look and then he tiptoed across the room to the door.
“Get back here,” Buddy hissed and Ralphie put his finger to his lips, carefully pulled open the door an inch and peeked out.
Buddy wanted to be the better person but he couldn’t help himself.
He made it in time to peer out the crack in the door, bending under Ralphie to do it and he saw Hector’s back walking away, Sadie in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, face tucked into his neck, her arms linked around his shoulders.
“Mm, that boy looks good from behind,” Ralphie whispered.
Buddy’s eyes rolled to the ceiling then, since they were there, he said a little prayer.
Chapter Seventeen
It Was Organic
Sadie
I woke up in my bed in Ralphie and Buddy’s guest room.
This was a strange sensation. Firstly, I hadn’t slept there in days. Secondly, I knew immediately Hector was with me. I could feel his heat all down my back and his arm was wrapped around my midriff, elbow cocked, forearm tucked under me, hand at the side of my breast.
Oh my.
Now, how did I get in this predicament?
I didn’t have time to rewind my night. It was too late to try to figure out how I ended up in my bed with Hector. It was time to extricate myself, pronto.
I prayed he was asleep and started to slide forward so I could escape.
His arm went tight.
“You’re awake,” he said into the back of my neck.
Damn and blast!
“Yes,” I replied and wondered if I should have feigned sleep.
“Good,” he muttered, his body pressing closer then his thumb (no kidding!) started to stroke the side of my breast. “Before you get a chance to put your defenses up, mamita, we’re gonna talk.”
This was not good.
I’d been awake five seconds. I could barely think much less talk with Hector with Hector’s heat at my back and Hector’s thumb stroking my breast.
I definitely should have feigned sleep.
It was time to form an upon waking escape plan so I could go somewhere and get my multiple personalities together where we could confer and decide who was going to take on this latest challenge.
“I, um, need to use the bathroom,” I tried.
This failed.
“In a minute,” he responded firmly.
“I’m not sure I want to talk,” I told him, trying again.
This failed too. Miserably.
“That’s good too, because you aren’t gonna be talking.”
Oh no.
A talk without me talking.
That definitely was not good.
“Hector –” I started and tried to turn but his arm got tight, his body fitted itself close to my back and I couldn’t move.
“Sadie, quiet and listen,” he ordered.
I could just not win.
I hadn’t even been awake for two minutes and I had another life trauma on my hands!
Oh well, so be it.
I willed my body to relax but mentally braced for what was to come next.
Hector felt the tension leave me and his thumb went back to stroking (this, I had to admit, felt super nice, but I told myself to ignore it, this didn’t work but at least I tried).
Then Hector started talking.
“I grew up in a house full of family, brothers, sisters, a mother, a father. My Dad was a prosecuting attorney and he worked long hours. Mamá was a part-time guidance counselor at our high school. We weren’t rich but they managed to give us everything we needed even if we didn’t have most of the shit we wanted. They worked but they were around. They were good parents, in our business, in our faces, providing guidance but letting us fuck up enough so we could learn. Some of us took advantage, fucked around, caused them problems. They never gave up hoping we’d eventually do the right thing and made sure we knew that.”
Now, why was he telling me this?
In a perfect world, of course, I would want to know all about Hector’s life.