Tex-Mex Sex Hex by Maggie Montgomery

Author:Maggie Montgomery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
Published: 2013-10-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

The hex remained unbroken. For what seemed like the hundredth time, I’d fallen short of orgasm. For the first time, I didn’t care.

That isn’t strictly accurate. I actually cared quite a bit. But not in my normal, frustrated, why-the-fuck-can’t-I-get-there way. I was curious, intrigued. Even a little scared. Because although I hadn’t come, I’d felt more deeply touched and more completely spent than I ever had before.

I lay in bed and pondered. More than once during the prior day’s encounter with Javier, I’d tottered on the brink of a sensation I could barely identify, glimpsed a shattering light that went far beyond the orgasms I remembered. It had beckoned to me, promised me unspeakable bliss if only I would… Would what? Get over Tonio? Forgive myself for his death? Risk feeling something real for a man again?

All of the above, I suspected. And none were going to be easy. But when I thought about the expression in Javier’s eyes when he said he’d always wanted me—that odd mix of fiery desire and fear of rejection—my heart flipped over and a lump rose to my throat. Flashes of long-forgotten memory began to crystallize in my mind. A college-age Javier patiently aiming a blindfolded young niece back toward the piñata, proudly showing his first semester grades to his mother, gently helping a great-great-uncle down the stairs. He’d been a good man, even when he was young. As far as I could tell, he’d only improved with time. Putting the past behind me was going to hurt but I’d never met a man more worth the pain.

I bathed and dressed, lost in thought, then walked slowly down the steps to the sunroom.

“Mama, do you still have my high school yearbooks?”

She glanced at me over her coffee cup, one perfect eyebrow arched in surprise. “Of course I do, dear. You don’t think I’d throw out a thing like that?”

Actually, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had, though I didn’t want to say it out loud.

Apparently she knew me better than I’d ever realized. Hurt flared in her eyes and her lips tightened for a moment. “I see. Well, I didn’t. They’re in the library where they’ve always been.”

I started to speak, but she waved me away. I went, partly because I didn’t know what to say and partly because I didn’t want to get in a fight when we were doing so well. I had enough to take on without battling my mother too. My bare feet sank into the thick plush of the library carpet and I was reminded, as always, of my father. I could almost see him in his big leather chair, his glasses low on his nose and some giant tome resting open on his lap. But he was always glad to set his book aside and pull me onto his knee for a story instead, even in the midst of his most important cases. And he was always willing to let me sit on the floor while he worked.

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