𝓔𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷
Pᴀʀᴛɪᴇs ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ. Tʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʜʏ I ᴛʜʀᴇᴡ them. I only did when my mom wasn't at home, though. Like during the days she was so busy at work that she had to a reservation at a hotel so that she could rest and just go back to work the next day.
My mom is a business woman—not rich, but enough—so she doesn't have time for bullshit. Even though she keeps up with mine whenever she's home and I am too. But my mom is the sweetest, and she has been through a lot.
A shitty husband that left her pregnant and kind of fucked with a house to pay on her own without the help of anyone.
My grandparents had cut her off because of the man she had chosen, so when she tried to ask them for help, they a bit literally said to her "I told you so!". I grew up without grandparents and without a father, great.
I mean, I am not the only one in this world with a situation like mine, there are a lot of people actually. It's sad? Probably. But I learned to live with it. I'm a strong ass man now. Even though I kind of only get in trouble.
Habit, I guess.
"Ethan, where do I put this shit?" Brody shouted from the living room. I looked from the doorway and saw him holding my mom's expensive vase.
A heirloom she would have given to her daughter if she had one, but since she didn't, well I was going to have it. So I had to protect it with my whole soul.
I ran out of the kitchen and made my way to him, quickly taking the vase from his hands and inspecting it like a newborn child had fallen off a crib.
"You can't touch this. Neither should I, for now. I'll put it in a cabinet." I said, still eyeing the vase down to make sure no small trace or dirt was in there.
I made my way to back to the kitchen, where I was cleaning everything up, and got to most hidden counter with a cabinet that not many people would think of opening, so I went there, pulled the door open and carefully placed the vase inside.
If I ever broke that vase, my mom would break me instead. Because that vase came all the way down from Puerto Rico before my grandparents stopped talking to my mom, also before knowing who she had chosen to date. So like, during the start of the 2000's.
My mission was to keep it safe until I had a house of my own and a job of my own and a brain of my own with self-consciousness. That would take a long time.
"When are the guests arriving?" Shrimp asked as he walked through the front door with the bottles of two different alcohols in hand.
"In less than an hour, now." I said, wiping my hands with a rag and walked towards him, taking the two bottles off of his hands and walking to the kitchen to and placing them on top of the counter where all the other drinks were.
"Did you invite Miss Latina?" Shrimp asked when he walked into the kitchen after me, placing his elbows on the counter and leaning against it.
"Of course, why wouldn't I? She's good." I added, next thing I knew he was chuckling about something.
"Yeah, she's a good package, face and body." He said.
Normally, I would laugh about it and shake it off, but somehow a weird feeling rolled up my spine and made my jaw clench and my eyes directly go to his.
I was gritting my teeth so hard that my whole face hurt and I was afraid I would break any teeth by now. But that feeling wouldn't go away, so I decided to let out a fake chuckle. No matter how hard I tried to make it real, Shrimp saw something was wrong.
"Something wrong?" He questioned, a confused look on his face.
"Nope, nothing wrong." I replied, giving him a fake smile and turning around towards the sink, taking a cup and washing it, trying to avoid any further conversation.
When he had said that about Isabel, for the first time in the last few years, I felt disgust. Hatred. Anger. That I was hearing something like that. And I had said things more disgusting than that, so why did I feel like this?
Was it because I was starting to get mature?
Was it because I was starting to feel like saying things like that about girls was disgusting?
Was it because he was talking about Isabel?
No idea. But I should know. I always did know the answer.
Right now? I didn't have it.
And it was fucking with my head to a level where it shouldn't. I just met Isabel. If I was feeling all that just because of what Shrimp said while I had said worse things in the past, then there was something really wrong with me.
How could a girl that I had just met make me feel like this? It made no sense, I know. But yet the feeling lingered. More than I wanted it to be by now.
I had to forget it anyway, tonight was about a party that I was hosting. A party where I would have to ice my lips by the end of the night from how much kissing I will be doing with them on so many different girls, maybe that will take my mind off a five foot seven angel with the face of pure innocence, the body of a goddamned stripper and long curly brown hair that I'm sure would look better wrapped around my fist.
Let's not say for what.
I was thrown out of my thoughts when I heard Shrimp walk out of the kitchen and go to the living room, probably going to help the guys set up everything.
Get the party started.
As I ᴡᴀs ᴋɪssɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴡᴀs Eʟᴇᴀɴᴏʀ Wᴏɴɢ, I sᴀᴡ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ and at the same time not familiar through the corner of my eye.
The music was blasting through my ears, and my hands were on the Eleanor's waist as she had her hands on my shoulders, not best position to be in while kissing.
I mean, my hand placement is good, I've been told that by many people. This girl with just her hands on my shoulders could get a good amount of teaching and she would still not get it. I guess we aren't meant to be. Now that I was already planning how our three children would look like...
Irony.
I don't daydream about that shit.
The only thing I was focused on other than who I was kissing right now was the familiar presence whose look did not look familiar at all.
So acting like I was out of air and pulling back with a gasp, simulating a heaving chest and wide open mouth begging for air, I took the time to look to who it was. Now I could actually let my jaw drop.
Skirt the size of the palm of my hand at a low raise on her flat stomach, a hint of her hip bones and a belly piercing stabbing through her belly button, the rhinestone shining with the light that reflected on it. Thin strap top with a mid-cleavage, enough to see the side outline of her tits. Hair perfectly curled in tight waves and white sneakers.
Well, Isabel proved that she was not a shy, introvert little girl. But, fuck. That outfit is complete torture if not straight up a death machine.
"I'm going to get a drink. See you around?" Eleanor's high pitched voice drowned me in the reality right in front of me.
"I guess." She nodded at me, before I loosened my grasp on her waist and let her go, something I should have done at least a good two minutes ago instead of keeping my mouth on hers. Eleanor was nice, but she was not my type. God, and I know she has a crush on me. I mean, who doesn't?
Pushing through the crowd and finally getting to where I wanted, I decided to make a small talk
"You're here." I sighed in relief, a smile drawing itself on my lips.
"You're relieved that I'm here, do I make you that excited, Morales?" Yes. Definitely, but let's not say that.
"It's another type of story, cariño. I'm worried that I'll have to get a gun. In the worst of cases, a machine gun." I retorted back, my smile slowly turning into her smirk at the look she had in her eyes.
"Why is that, Morales? Are you planning on killing me?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
The smile she had slowly faded the closer I got. I couldn't tower over her, but I was still taller than her. It seemed to intimidate her and I liked it. Loved it, sorry.
"If I ever planned on killing you, it was because I went psycho. But the only people I'm planning on killing right now are the guys that will try to take sneak peeks under your skirt, cariño. I don't want pictures of your panties to end up online." My voice went below a whisper, but it was enough for her to hear through all the loud music around her. Around us.
"What if they did end up online?" She asked, her voice as soft as honey gliding down a smooth surface. The only type of voice you heard in romance movies. Worse than that, porn.
"I'll hunt the bastard that posted them down and make him regret to ever put them there." The answer I gave was too much, I know, especially since I only knew this girl for a few weeks now. Even though we only met just recently, I was drawn to her. To a limit I never think I could surpass.
God, how much I wanted to put my hands on her. How much I wanted to drag her out of here and into my room. To yank that tiny little skirt up and fuck her like no one ever had before. If she kept looking at me like that I wouldn't hesitate, not even a tiny bit.
But I can't.
Not tonight.
"Go get some drinks, Isabel. And party with your friends. I hosted this for that to happen." I finally said, breaking the silence.
I looked away and walked away, going to the bathroom to try to get my cock to stop straining against my fucking jeans. Maybe cold air would help me. I just hoped that Isabel didn't see any of it. But even though I was between four cold tile walls, Isabel's look burned through them, because I knew she was confused that I had stopped our interaction so suddenly. Probably gave her blue oves by the way her cheeks were flushed, her lips were parted, her breath was heavy and her chest was heaving, the cross on her neck moving in tandem with it.
I made Isabel fucking Belmonte get aroused.
Where is my trophy?
Getting out of the bathroom, I expected to see her dancing with her friends and drinking the night away, and even that would turn me on. What I saw instead had me get aroused once again. To the same level I was earlier.
Barefooted, she was dancing on top of the coffee table with her hands on her hips as she rolled them around, standing at the tip of her toes and her hair all messy. A smile on her lips as Devi and the rest of the girls who she hung out with were cheering her. But they weren't the only ones, even my friends were cheering for her to continue. Everyone was. Also, they all had their phones out.
So I shook the smirk off of my face and pushed through the crowd, grabbing her by the wrist and taking her off of her new dance platform. She almost fell on me, but I quickly grasped her by her rib while she looked at me with a sudden hatred in her eyes.
"Alright, everyone! Time to wrap it up!" I shouted, my eyes locked on hers as everyone around me stopped their recordings in a heartbeat and started leaving. With only a few words, people were leaving. At my command. Great.
"Why the fuck would you do that?" She hissed, the alcohol in her breath filling my senses. And the way she gave me an attitude just made me angry.
I clenched my jaw and squeezed her ribs with one hand and her wrist with the other, a whimper escaping her mouth.
"Don't talk to me like that, is the first thing I need to say,"—another squeeze, another whimper—"two, you're drunk. And you're acting like a little girl,"—another squeeze, and once again, another whimper, more high-pitched this time—"three, do not give me that fucking attitude."
"Fuck you. I'm just trying to have fun for once instead of focusing on the problems I have at home and you're—" She started, but quickly cut herself off for some reason. She shook it off even though my face contorted in confusion.
What the fuck is she talking about?