Chapter 27

“Welcome to São Fernando, Emy. Can I call you that?” he whispered in a sexy tone, or maybe I was imagining it because we were too close. He took a strand of my bangs between his fingers, playing with it before locking eyes with me. “I’d be happy to show you the town,” he said, and I swallowed hard.

Marcos was piercing me with his gaze, his voice growing huskier by the minute.

I needed to pull away. I knew it was wrong in so many ways, but it was like he had a magnetic pull over me, even as my brain screamed to step back. I couldn’t even blink, especially when his hands slid into my hair, gripping the nape of my neck, holding me captive.

His eyes flicked to my lips once and returned to mine, a warning of what he was about to do. Then Marcos pressed our mouths together hard.

My sigh came out loud and desperate. It was like being in heaven again. His experienced mouth knew exactly what to do, his lips attacking mine with a hunger I felt just as intensely. His tongue glided over mine, awakening all my senses, making me moan and want more—want all of him.

As soon as he saw me as consumed as he was, his large hand traced a line of fire down my back, not stopping even when it reached the waistband of my shorts, while the other held my face firmly, as if still afraid I’d run.

He groped and squeezed my ass, pulling me closer to his body, making me tug at his hair desperately for more contact. The heated kiss left me craving more, so much more.

The strong wind that started blowing didn’t stop the madness we were indulging in. It was as if nothing existed beyond our bodies, burning and crazed for each other.

I slid my hands under his shirt, reveling in how his skin prickled at my touch, confirming he was as lost as I was.

I yanked at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel all of him. He pulled back just enough to rip it off, then his warm body enveloped mine, urgent to not stay apart for long.

Hot and strong—that’s how Marcos’ body felt against mine. The scent of his skin invaded my senses, driving me wild, my desire bordering on insanity.

Drops of the summer rain that had been forecast began to fall, wetting us, but never calming our fervor.

His hand, which had slid up my stomach, brushed my breast, making my head spin with anticipation at the thought of him squeezing there. When Marcos did, filling his hand with my breast, a moan escaped before I could hold it back.

He continued to tease my now-sensitive nipple while trailing kisses down my neck, driving me to madness.

“Come on, Joshua!” I heard Bianca shout from a distance.

It was like a snap, pulling me back from Neverland to the adult world, showing how crazy we were for letting this happen.

Marcos had a wife and child, and I had ghosts buried too deep to just throw myself into his arms like this.

I leapt off his lap abruptly, unable to look at him. What the hell would we do now when we saw each other? What would I do after this?

I touched my lips with my back to him, wanting to hold onto that feeling and forget it at the same time.

It was so similar to what I remembered, yet so much more intense and overwhelming.

“Emy…” I heard his voice behind me, close to my ear, his body’s heat almost touching me. I had to resist!

“We can’t do this,” was all I managed to say before Bianca and Joshua reached us.

I got into the truck silently, just stewing over what we’d done. God, if Bianca hadn’t been there, we would’ve had sex on the grass in the rain like two lunatics.

Don’t go there, Emily. Don’t even think about what could’ve happened!

“São Fernando still has that crazy summer weather,” Bianca commented.

“Not worse than São Paulo,” was all I could muster, feeling Marcos’ eyes burning into me, making me turn my face to the window to escape his scrutinizing gaze.

“Emy, want to stop by your place to grab some clothes?” Bianca asked hesitantly.

We’d already passed downtown and were nearing my neighborhood.

Luckily, I knew what I had to do today.

Marcos’ words had enlightened me. My dad clearly didn’t know what had happened to me, and until he did, we’d keep miscommunicating. I needed to tell him everything I’d been through and hear what had happened to him while I was gone. Only then would we be on the same page.

“I’m going home, Bi,” I murmured, gathering courage and facing everyone. “I have a pending conversation with my dad.”

“No, you can’t be alone with him. You’re coming with us, and tomorrow I’ll go with you for the talk!” Marcos protested firmly.

“I need to have this conversation alone with him. I’m sure nothing will happen. He was sober this morning and last night too,” I explained, repeating what I’d said earlier.

My dad had hurt me, and the one time he did, he seemed deeply remorseful.

“Emily… you know I can’t leave you. I told you this morning,” he whispered, sounding confused and lost in his own thoughts.

He had a wife and son to go home to and care for tonight. We’d already crossed every line today.

“I need to talk to him alone,” I continued, trying to be firm. I needed this conversation—there was no other way. “I trust him. Nothing will happen to me. You can relax.”

Marcos huffed and slammed his fist on the steering wheel, ending the futile argument. It was better this way. As well-intentioned as his actions were, we needed to draw a line.

In fact, I needed to draw a line before my head went into a tailspin, especially after today, heading down a path that wouldn’t lead to any happiness.

The minutes that passed felt like an eternity in the deathly silence that settled in the truck.

It didn’t help that he was driving slower than usual, even with the wet streets after the rain. He was slower than a turtle.

“Promise you’ll call me if anything happens, even if everything goes fine,” Marcos said, almost growling. I looked at him, seeing the worry in his eyes, lit only by the truck’s headlights and the dim streetlights. “I won’t sleep if I don’t hear your voice.” This time, his voice was low, just for me.

“Okay,” I murmured, turning to get out before he made another request. “Good night.”

I jumped out of the truck and was grateful for the engine’s roar as I entered the house.

Everything was quiet, but the smell wafting through the house was of food: meat, rice, and I could swear I even smelled cake.

“Dad?” I called, hoping he hadn’t given up on waiting for

me and gone out again. “Dad? We need to talk.”