“We both know you do. It’s been so much fun seeing you two mutually watching each other. I always thought she’d be the one to talk to you first, but, apparently, you couldn’t take it anymore.”
“You’re talking nonsense. Mutually watching each other? As if I needed that.”
Claudia nods. Her face wears an expression of mockery that annoys me a little.
“Whatever you say, Hidalgo, but asking Apolo for help shows how interested you are.”
“You’re crazy, Claudia. It’s not what you think. I just want to teach her a lesson.”
“Since when do you invest your time and energy into teaching a girl a lesson? Why plan it so carefully?”
“I’m not going to have this conversation with you.”
Claudia bows in mockery.
“As you say, sir.”
And she leaves, still smiling.
I smile at that memory as my eyes land on Raquel again. Maybe it took me so long to talk to her, to confront her, because I knew she would be the one to make me feel this way, the one to hold my heart in her hands. Maybe I knew it from the beginning and that’s why I fought against it so hard. Even while keeping my distance, the bag with her handmade bracelets was always under my bed as a physical reminder that the girl who saw me through her window had smiled because of me, and that smile would be etched in my memory forever.
FIFTY-THREE
The Dance
- RAQUEL -
Ares returns as they’re getting ready to sing my birthday song. It was getting late, so we all moved inside the house, and we’re scattered around the living room. I stand in front of the cake, and he stands on the other side of the table. Everyone starts singing while I awkwardly stare at the candles, not knowing where to look. Finally, I focus on those blue eyes, and the voices fade around me. He looks so beautiful in the dark, with the lights from the candles on my cake illuminating his face.
I love you . . .
I want to say it, but I know there are too many eyes on me.
I blow out the candles, and everyone applauds and congratulates me. Ares takes a step back, disappearing into the crowd. I receive hugs, kisses, and congratulations, while my eyes search for the Greek god without success. Where has he gone? Most of my aunts suffer from cake sickness, which means that when the song is sung and they’ve had a piece of cake, it’s their cue to go to sleep. The party is over for them.
My cousins take advantage of this to put on different music once we’re alone. Whistling and cheering, they start dancing. Camila turns off the rest of the lights, leaving us in almost total darkness, which makes it harder to find Ares.
After checking one side of the “dance floor” without finding him, I pass through the crowd, brushing shoulders and backs. The vibe in this group feels electric, almost sexual. In the middle of them I stop, remembering that night at the club, when Ares watched me from the VIP area like a predator. I remember how I looked for him after that.
I’ve always chased him. I’ve always sought him out. Maybe now it’s his turn to seek me out.
I start dancing, feeling the rhythm, which is soft but so sensual. The lyrics are full of sexual overtures. I don’t normally listen to this kind of music, but it’s fucking catchy and good to dance to.
I feel him before I see him.
His body heat brushes against my back as I keep moving, my hands taking the end of my dress and lifting it up a little, slowly jiggling. The distinctive scent of his cologne reaches me. Even though I know Ares is there behind me, I don’t turn around, I just keep teasing him. His breath caresses the back of my neck, making me bite my lower lip.
His hands fall over mine, pulling my dress up slightly to pull it down again, caressing my thighs in the process, and the brush of his fingers against my skin makes my breathing quicken.
He presses me against him, and I can feel his whole body against mine. He’s the one who always tortures me, and it’s time to give him some of that back. I push my ass against him, rubbing, tempting, up and down, and I’m not surprised at how hard he is. Ares presses his hands over mine, growling into the side of my neck.
He bites my ear gently.
“You’re playing with fire, Witch.”
Well, yes, and I want to burn.
One of his hands leaves my thigh to move up my body, caressing my abdomen. I stop breathing when he reaches my breasts, but he doesn’t touch them, and I’m dying for him to do so. He knows it.
His breathing is heavy in my ear, sending a current of arousal throughout my body. The hand still on my thigh moves up inside my dress, his fingers brush me over my underwear, and I let out a moan.