Dusk Until Dawn by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

Author:ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER [Christopher, Andie J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Javi waited for Maya in front of the entrance to the Wynwood Walls. He hoped that she would like this place. He liked to walk around the outdoor arts complex. When Maya came back, he’d realized that he liked this spot because it reminded him of her.

The loud splashes of color adorning old warehouses were unexpected. It wasn’t the beach or the main Design District, and it wasn’t swarmed by tourists. It was quirky and fun. He didn’t know if bringing Maya here was trying too hard, but he wanted to bring her out on a date without a way to drag her into a dark corner and take her. She needed to know that he wanted to spend time with her with clothes on. But he was worried that she’d think he was cheaping out by suggesting a free date. He felt stupid.

She walked up to him while he was mid-pace, while he was staring at the ground, second-guessing suggesting this as a date.

“This place is awesome.” Her words snapped him out of it. She was peering through the black gates that indicated where the official section of the neighborhood where the graffiti art was sanctioned. Someone had had the bright idea to make a gallery of street art, to celebrate something that most people scorned.

Her big eyes were filled with delight, and he drank her in, standing on the threshold. She wore all black, as usual. But this time it was curve-hugging sundress. His cock jumped when he thought about having easy access. Ever since the night in the storeroom—just a few days really—he’d been dying without her and half hard every time he thought about rucking up her tiny skirt and bending her over.

Her round ass was completely insane—hard to imagine that it existed in real life. Especially his real life. Karrie’s butt was flat. Like everything about her. There was nothing wrong with flat—shit—he’d thought he wanted flat. But now he wanted Maya’s round curves and bright colors.

Even though she’d grown up in New York, she was Miami—bright colors and loud music. He followed her over the threshold and stopped short when he caught up to her next to a mural by another Puerto Rican artist.

“When you got me up at the crack of dawn, I didn’t expect it to be worth it. But this—this is magnificent.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, stunned. “I wish I’d brought my sketchbook. It’s a stunning interpretation of Guernica.”

“The Picasso?” He looked at the mural closely—he hadn’t been over to see this one. And he saw it. Like Picasso’s mural, which brought the world’s attention to the Spanish Civil War, this artist had painted a black and white depiction of sick children and crying mothers, bombed out hotels.

“Yes, it’s brilliant. The artist is Boricua?”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking brilliant. He’s showing what the U.S. is doing to Puerto Rico by not allowing the commonwealth to dissolve their debts in bankruptcy,” Maya said. Javi’s stomach dropped. He knew that HH Limited had divested itself of its Puerto Rican municipal bonds, but not for the right reasons.

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