Through My Window(Hidalgos #1)(40)

Ares didn’t say much after we left the pool. He let me use his bathroom, saying he would use the one down the hall. For some strange reason I know he’s already back, waiting for me in his room.

You can do it, Raquel. He promised not to touch you. If you don’t want him to . . .

That’s the problem, I do want him to. I want to kiss him again, to feel him against me again, and I know I shouldn’t. Why does knowing we shouldn’t do something always make us want to do it more? Why did I say yes? Now I’m in the lion’s den. Determined to get on with it, I open the bathroom door and step out.

The room is illuminated by a single small lamp. It’s large and surprisingly tidy. Ares is sitting on the bed, shirtless, with his back against the headboard and a bottle of tequila in his hand. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles at me. “You look good in my shirt.”

Don’t smile like that! Can’t you see you’re melting my heart?

I smile back at him and stand there in the semidarkness, not knowing what to do.

“Are you going to stand there all night? Come.” He points to a spot next to him. I hesitate, and he notices. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course, of course, come here.”

I obey him by sitting on the edge of the bed, putting as much distance as I can between us. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

“How about we keep playing?” He lifts the bottle, turning his body toward me.

“The pool game?” He just nods. “It’s late, don’t you think?”

“Are you afraid to play with me?”

“I told you, I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then why are you about to fall out of the bed? You don’t have to sit so far away, I made a promise, didn’t I?”

Yes, you said you wouldn’t touch me if I didn’t want you to. The problem is that I do want you to.

“Just a precaution.”

“If you say so.” He sits cross-legged, and I do the same. We face each other with the bottle between us.

“You start.”

I think for a while and decide on something simple. “Never have I ever slept with someone of the opposite sex in the same bed without doing anything.” And I drink.

I watch him hesitate, but finally he drinks. He clears his throat. “Never have I ever been interested in my crush’s best friend.” He doesn’t drink.

I look at him in surprise. Is he indirectly asking if I like Marco? Marco is very attractive, but I wouldn’t say I’m interested, so I don’t drink. His relief is evident on his face.

“Never have I ever had feelings for my best friend,” I say and watch sadly as he takes a drink. Does he have feelings for Samy? It hurts me and for some reason I want him to be hurt, too, so I drink as well.

He looks surprised, and runs his hands through his messy, damp hair. “I think I want you to drink.” He sounds victorious. “Never have I ever fallen in love one-sidedly.”

Ouch! That burns.

That characteristic smirk of his appears, and I try to calm my stupid heart. Silently, I drink.

I raise my gaze to him and there’s an edge to my voice. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm during sex.”

His mouth opens, and he watches me drink. His ego is hurt. I can see it in the anger in his eyes. I know I’m lying, but I don’t care about anything anymore. Ares takes the bottle, thinking for a moment, and I’m prepared for him to destroy me. I know after what I said, he’ll only try to hurt me even more.

He looks at me. “Never have I ever lied when I said I don’t like someone.”

I frown. Did he . . . ?

Ares plays with the piercing in his lower lip and drinks.

I’m petrified, looking at him—is he telling me that he does like me, and that he lied when he said he didn’t? Or am I overthinking things? Or has the tequila taken effect and made me even more drunk? He smiles at me and puts the bottle in between us. I take it, and I don’t know what to say.

“You look surprised.” He puts his hands behind him, leaning back, letting me see those abs and his tattoo. I can clearly see the one on his lower abdomen, which is something tribal and small, and very delicate-looking.

“No, it’s just that . . .” I pause, playing with the bottle. “I’m thinking about my turn,” I lie.

“Let’s see, surprise me.” He leans forward again and moves closer to me, and now only the bottle separates our bodies.

“I think I’ve had enough,” I say nervously. I excuse myself, handing him the bottle. “It’s late, we should sleep.”

“Leave me the last turn, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ares looks me straight in the eye as he says, “Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone as much as I do now.”

The air leaves my lungs as he drinks. His eyes are fixed on my mouth, and he hands me the bottle. I don’t hesitate as I take a swig. In the blink of an eye, Ares is on top of me. His mouth finds mine and throws my fears out the window. His kiss is not tender; it’s rough, passionate, and I love it. His soft lips lick, suck. I can’t help but moan into his mouth and his tongue enters mine, tempting, provoking me. He tastes like tequila and strawberry gum. I grab his hair, kissing him with everything I have. I’ve missed him so much, and it’s only been a week. He could easily become my addiction.