Chapter Twelve

Something shifted in Javier's brain after that day on the beach. Something heavy and detrimental, life-altering in a way that seemed to throw the world off its axis. He felt like his chest had been ripped open, a gaping wound carved out of his sternum, too exposed to heal.

If he thought he had been desperate before, he was sorely mistaken. The savage, brutal undoing of the cold, steel cage that his heart and soul had been locked behind left him fumbling for cover, a violent, fervent yearning deep in the marrow of his bones that he could not shake. Not with logic or bourbon or forced distance.

It hurt, a low, dull ache, perpetual and unrelenting. He felt like a man on fire. The crackling heat that surged through that gaping wound in his chest had engulfed his entire body. It did not burn out, it did not relieve him of its plundering by killing him off, it was just there, like some blasphemous eternal flame.

Javier did not believe in a God, not the one that his father prayed to every Sunday, a beaded rosary woven through his blistered fingers, not any of the deities that were personified figures of the Sun or the Moon or the Tides that his ancestors worshiped. If any of those beings did exist, he surely would have been cast out by them, sentenced to a fiery damnation, perhaps not unlike the one he was currently experiencing. But even still, he had found himself praying as of late, to the universe, or fate, or the Abrahamic God that his father promised was proud of him. He prayed for it all to just stop.

His prayers were not answered, just like they hadn't been back when he was ten and his dog had gotten sick, or when he was eighteen and his mother had gotten sick. Now he was the one who was sick, sick in the head and in his heart and for fuck's sake there had to be a remedy that wasn't just her.

The truth of the matter was the only time he didn't feel like he was going to be scorched alive was when he had her wrapped up in his arms, or on his cock, but even then, he could feel the flames nearby, knew they were still there, waiting, biding their time. Soon, he knew, they would engulf him even when he was with her, if he didn't come to terms with the matchbox that had lit the flame, the crippling, burrowing realization that had initiated his undoing.

He had two choices: acceptance or abandonment.

Both were impossible, but he knew he couldn't stay like this, live in this aflame limbo forever. He knew what the right choice was, he always had. He was supposed to leave her, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that the right thing to do was remove himself. He wasn't good for her, wasn't good in any sense of the word. But each morning he woke up and convinced himself that one more day wouldn't change anything. Every day he either ignored the incessant calls from the team down in Mexico, or he answered and told them some version of the same thing-- I'll think about it. I'll let you know. I'm busy right now, can I let you know later on?

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months and one more day remained a constant promise with no equity behind it. Javier was a man living on borrowed time. He had been since he first stepped off that plane in Columbia nearly ten years ago. But it had never been more apparent to him than it was now.

__________

Emma was standing outside smoking a cigarette when Javier got to the bar. He'd tried to wait until the end of her shift, but succumbed to the burning as he did more often than not.

She smiled when she saw him cross the street, the force of it pushing the apples of her cheeks up, the vision immediately dousing the crackling fire in his chest.

"Chiquita." He hummed, low in his throat as he tugged her to him by a strong hold on her waist, fusing his lips to hers and causing a whimper to echo out of her and into his mouth.

He'd missed her, even though he'd been in her bed less than twelve hours prior. He missed her whenever she wasn't within his line of sight, dreaded the day (tomorrow, though if he was being honest with himself, he knew that wasn't true) when he would never get to see those dark, blue eyes light up ever again.

She tried to push him away, but her hands betrayed her by grasping at his arms, tugging at the front of his shirt instead.

"Javi- there's- someone inside is going to see us." She managed to spit out between rough, ardent kisses that were making her head feel light and dizzy.

"Fuck 'em." He muttered, his right hand clasping her jaw, his wide, hot tongue pushing possessively past her lips so he could steal that intoxicating taste of strawberry from her mouth.

She already felt that heavy pool of desire crowding her lower belly, trickling down her pelvis and flooding her panties in hot, wet arousal. She wanted him to hoist her up, carry her home, and fuck her until long after the sun went down. But neither time nor luck was on her side because she still had an hour left of her shift and just as Javier pulled away to latch his hot mouth to the side of her neck, a voice erupted behind them.

"Ever think about sharing, hombre?"

Emma pulled back, her cheeks hot and tingly as her attention snapped over to Nick, who was hobbling his way out of the bar.

Javier did not let her go though, instead locked his arm around her waist, holding her tight against his chest as his eyebrows pinched together in irritation.

"Wasn't something I'd considered, no." He muttered, jaw twitching as Nick's eyes wandered from Javier's face down to Emma, who was still crushed to his chest, her lips all swollen from abuse.

"You know where to find me, sweetheart." Nick winked, his chapped lips cracking up into a sly grin.

Emma rolled her eyes, but quickly turned her attention up to Javier as she felt his body tense around her, his dark eyes narrowing as the hand that was heavy on her back curled into a fist.

Mine. The word rumbled around in his chest, swirled through his mind like a mantra. Mine, mine, mine.

"Javi." Her voice was soft, warm, honey coating his tongue. His gaze drifted down to her. Those dark, blue eyes glittering as they met his brown ones. "It's Nick. I'm actually a bit offended that you think I would take him up on that offer." Her voice was a tad lower than normal as Nick wobbled his way down the street.

"I know you wouldn't, bonita." He exhaled, the muscles in his arms and back slowly starting to lose tension as she fiddled with one of the buttons on his shirt, her soft fingers brushing the bare skin of his chest as she did. "Just don't like him looking at you like that."

When you're mine.

It was unspoken, but it hung in the air between them.

She continued to gaze up at him from under the thick fan of her lashes. She was so pretty it made his core ache.

"You going to rip off the head of every man in this bar who looks at me?" It came out mocking, but Javier considered it, his eyebrows perking up as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You're ridiculous." She uttered through a roll of her eyes, tugging herself out of his arms and beginning to walk back into the bar.

He caught her before she crossed the threshold, whirling her around and bringing her back against his chest with one gasping breath and a set of wide, surprised eyes.

"Wasn't done with you yet, chiquita." His low baritone rumbled, then he was devouring her mouth, one hand locked on the delicate curve of her shoulder, the other holding her waist tight against him so he could lean her back, crowd her tiny form and eat her mouth the way he wanted to.

"Javi!" She yelped, her muscles feeling like they'd been replaced with a substance similar to gelatin, her mind clouded with heavy, thick desire. "I-- I have to work-- and you can't-- I'm going to-- you're making me wet, I-- I'm not going to be able to focus."

"Good." He grunted, leaving her lips to nip at her neck. "Mine." His voice vibrated against her neck as he sucked the sensitive skin just above her collarbone in between his teeth.

The word had exited his lips without any cognition, but he relished in the shaky moan that trembled out of Emma in response.

"I re-ally have to-- have to go back inside." She warbled, clinging onto his arms so she wouldn't end up on the ground.

He groaned in protest, but obliged, removing his mouth from her neck, taking a moment to stare down at her, her pretty blue eyes slightly dazed, her lips puffy and still parted, her chest heaving slightly as she clung to his forearms.

He was looking down at her with an unfamiliar emotion behind his eyes, staring at her so intensely she felt herself shrink down a bit, slightly overwhelmed by the severity of his gaze.

"Why are you-- why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, her voice just a decibel above a whisper.

"Like what?" He spoke without thought, the only thing that could possibly be on his mind was her.

Her little shoulders rose up in a shrug, she didn't really have an answer. She just knew that he had never looked at her that unabashedly before, so unguarded, his brown eyes so light she could see little specks of gold glistening in his irises.

A smile tugged at his lips, wide enough that the little dimple burrowed itself into his right cheek, the vision making her chest flutter lightly. Then he leaned forward, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his mustache tickling her skin as he pulled away.

Her stomach erupted with butterflies, heavy winged and manic.

Why was he being so sweet?

He let her go but kept one heavy hand on the small of her back as they walked into the bar, only letting it slip off when she walked back behind the counter.

"Thirsty?" She asked, hand already reaching for the bourbon.

"Certainly, but not for that." He voiced, low, nearly a whisper, winking at her when she glanced up at him, her cheeks a delightful shade of pink.

"You're sick." She grunted, grabbing a rag from the counter, and swatting at him with it.

He laughed, full and unabashedly, his head tilted back slightly, his eyes pinched into a squint, that dimple entirely visible on his cheek. She didn't think she'd ever heard him laugh like that before, it was refreshing, mesmerizing really. Tough, grumpy Javier folded over in a belly laugh.

Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest.

What in the world had gotten into him?

The excruciating burning he'd felt consuming his chest all day was gone, though he could feel the flames licking out at him if he concentrated on it, but he wasn't really concentrating on anything that wasn't her. Her presence had brought a crashing wave of relief over his body, and he was giddy with it.

Javier Peña was giddy.

How ludicrous.

"No bourbon for you, then." Emma asserted, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and strutting down the bar toward Ethan who had just walked in and sat down at one of the stools near the door.

Javier watched her intently as she grabbed the Jameson and poured it into a low-ball glass with ice.

"How's Becca doing?" Emma asked Ethan as she placed the glass in front of him.

"She's doing alright, she's got the kids during the week, and he's got them on the weekends for now." Ethan's voice was gruff, Javier didn't think he'd ever actually heard him speak.

"She's got a good lawyer, right? Her friend from college?" Emma asked, taking a ten from Ethan and shoving her hip into the ancient cash register. She had a perpetual bruise on her left hip from that thing, Javier had noticed it the second time she had gotten naked in front of him. He made a mental note to check the drawer next time he was alone with her after closing, maybe he could unjam it, get it loose enough so she wouldn't have to injure herself every time someone paid in cash.

He thought about next time like he wouldn't lie down tonight and convince himself to leave her just like he did every night prior.

"Yeah, he's decent, thinks she's got a good case for full custody." Ethan nodded, then brought his glass to his lips with one shaky hand.

She knew so much about everyone at the bar. Asked the questions and listened to their stories and complaints like she was a therapist rather than a bartender. Of course that came with the job, but the altruistic manner in which she did it made it seem like it was less out of obligation and more because she cared.

Good, too good for me.

"I'll be thinking about her." Emma said, flashing Ethan a warm smile then turning back toward Javier, her head tilting slightly to the side when she found him watching her.

"You have a staring problem today." She announced once she was closer to him.

Was he actually staring more than he usually did? That couldn't be true. He was always looking at her, where else would he look?

"Gonna kick me out, chiquita?"

"I should." She retorted with a quick roll of her eyes. "Should've a long time ago, actually."

"Who would you castigate all day if I wasn't here, pretty girl?" He inquired with a smirk, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and sticking one between his lips.

"I'd make do." She shrugged, a sly smile on her face as she reached forward and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, sticking it between her own lips, leaning forward and propping her chin up on her fists, her elbows resting against the counter.

"You're a menace." He chuckled, reaching into his pocket for his lighter, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he lit the cigarette.

"Takes one to know one, old man." She said through a mouthful of smoke, blowing it out into his face and placing the cigarette between his fingers.

He smoked the remainder of his cigarette, watched her prepare kegs and little slices of limes for the next shift. When the closing bartender arrived, a tall, gangly man Javier had never bothered to get the name of, Emma already had her bag on her shoulder, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt as she marched around the counter.

He liked that it was expected that he was to leave with her, he liked it far too much.

He caught the belt loop of her jeans with one, large, hooked finger, tugging her to his side as soon as they were outside.

"Why are you in such a rush, bonita?" He teased; one side of his mouth curved up into a knowing, half-smile. He still had his finger locked around her belt loop, keeping her pace at an agonizing stroll.

"Javi." She whined, high-pitched and pleading, trying to tug away from his grip and pick up the pace. He'd had her desperate and needy for the past hour and she needed a release otherwise she was going to lose her mind.

He chuckled, a low, menacing noise that made her scrunch her cute, little nose up at him.

"Patience, chiquita." He warned, like he wasn't planning on ripping her clothes off the minute they got inside.

"You're mean." She spat out, with no real conviction behind her statement as she shivered, the wind nipping at her exposed skin before Javier tugged her closer by her belt loop, locking his arm around her narrow shoulders and bringing her in against his side.

"Freezing little mocosa." He hummed the insult like it was a term of endearment, pressing his face into the top of her head and inhaling deeply, the scent of honeysuckle pushing those impending flames further away.

He could drown in her, he already was, neck deep in that warm, serene water, the flames couldn't get him here.

When they reached her building, he let his arm slip from around her, his hand once again residing heavily on her lower back as she dug her keys out and unlocked the front door.

As soon as they were inside, shoes were being kicked off, his hands locked on her waist, mouth fusing to hers as he dragged her down the hallway toward the bedroom.

He didn't waste any time once they were there, ripping his shirt off in haste, pulling hers off over her head, lips latching to each other in fumbled, messy kisses between each discarded article of clothing.

"Pretty, pretty girl." He crooned, dark eyes ablaze as he lowered her onto the bed, the two of them now only in their underwear.

He crawled over her, propping himself up with two large hands on either side of her head, one knee between her parted thighs, the other caging her left hip in. She was a fucking vision, cheeks slightly pink, lips swollen, pupils blown out, perky, little tits heaving as she sucked in anticipatory breaths.

"Mírate, mi niña bonita." He hummed, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss into the delicate skin that hung over her clavicle, hot, wet tongue sweeping out to lick at that hollow space. "No puedo tener suficiente de ti."

Her brain scrambled to translate his musings while his lips peppered kisses down her sternum. He was making it hard to think, and the three years of Spanish she'd taken in high school were not at the forefront of her mind at that moment.

"Javi." She mewled, trembling underneath him as his mouth latched to her left nipple, circling that sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, the sensation sending shock waves down through her core. "What're-- what are you saying? I can't-- can't think."

"Don't think, baby." He whispered, lips still sweeping over that puckered bud while his calloused thumb toyed with the other one. "Relájate, déjame cuidarte." His low baritone rumbled, and she squirmed, bearing down and trying to grind against his knee to relieve the aching pressure between her thighs.

"Mala." He grunted, grabbing her waist, and pushing her further up the length of the bed.

She whined, high-pitched and desperate as her fingers dug into the taut skin of his biceps. Her cunt hurt, and if he didn't ease that pain soon with his mouth or his fingers or his cock she was going to scream.

"I'll give you what you need, honey. Just let me take my time with you." He cooed softly, big, rough hands caressing the curve of her waist, dark eyes drinking in each inch of soft, milky skin. She was perfect, Javier was convinced, perfect and sweet and created just to drive him insane.

He leaned back a bit, the wide, golden expanse of his torso towering over her as his eyes delved between her legs, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he took in the quivering state of her thighs, the wet, clinging fabric of her rose-colored panties.

A low grown echoed out of his chest as she writhed, trying to buck her hips up closer to his face.

"Mmm." He pushed her hips down with one large hand splayed flat against her belly. "You want Papi to eat this pretty, little pussy don't you, baby?"

"Yesyesyesyes." She cried, trying to thrust her hips up again but the pressure on her pelvis from his hand making her eyes roll into the back of her head.

"Say yes Papi." He ordered, big hands gripping her thighs and tugging them further apart.

"Yes Papi, please, please. I need, need it please." She babbled, neck craned so she could look down at him while he just knelt there, dark eyes darting back and forth from her face to her pussy.

"So polite, such a good girl." He praised, kneading at the inside of her thighs with his thumbs, pressing that supple skin up so it put pressure on her weeping pussy.

"Oh God, Javi-- I can't-- puh-lease." She croaked, her cunt clenching around nothing, leaking obscenely, her underwear wet and cold against the heat of her center.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, slowly tugging them down the length of her legs, grasping each delicate ankle to help pull them the rest of the way off.

Yes, yes, yes, finally.

He situated himself between her thighs, making a home for himself there as he pushed her knees up. Then gently, a feather of a touch, ran his tongue, wide and flat, over the length of her swollen cunt.

She wailed, trying to press her hips up, to increase the pressure, but he pushed her down, keeping her flat on the mattress with two large hands latched on her hips. He was going to take his time, he wanted to hear her beg and cry and plead for him to let her come.

"Taste so good, baby." He groaned, his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers. "Sweet, sweet pussy." He crooned, the vibration of it against her made her mewl.

He stayed like that for what felt like ages, lapping at her, soft and so void of pressure. It was driving her insane. She was sweating, a light gleam on her brow, and across her chest. Each stroke of his tongue sent a crashing wave of buzzing pleasure through her core, building her up, up, up, until she felt tears streaming down the sides of her face, collecting in the hair behind her temples.

"More, please Javi, moremoremore."

"Shh." He hushed her, "Let me enjoy my meal."

He was practicing as much restraint as he could possibly muster. He wanted to eat her, devour her cunt, and make her scream, the insatiable hunger in his core nearly impossible to suppress as he continued to gently lap at her swollen, aching little clit.

"Mía." He growled against her weeping entrance, sticking his tongue up into her, eliciting a cry deep from her throat as she gripped the sheets with white knuckles.

"Yours, yours Javi, just p-please. I can't-- I can't fucking take it anymore."

The confirmation out of her mouth, yours, was all he could take. That thin thread of restraint snapped, and he latched his mouth to her clit and sucked.

She came immediately, crying, wailing his name like a prayer, over and over again as her cunt clenched around nothing before he thrust two fingers up into her, pressing up into that soft, devastating spot that only he could reach while he continued to circle her clit with his tongue.

Never enough, will never get enough.

As she started coming down from the peak of her orgasm, she tried to push away from him, her pussy far too overstimulated from how long he'd teased her, that sensitive skin throbbing against his mouth.

"Too much, it's too much." She spat out, sniffling back more tears as he tugged her closer by the grip he'd taken of her hips, continuing to eat at her with reckless abandon.

"One more before I give you my cock." He commanded, thrusting his fingers back up into her and latching his mouth to that sensitive little bud.

And like he'd summoned it from the heavens, she felt her pelvis shudder, pulsing down and throwing her over the edge.

"That's it, that's my good girl." He sang out, gently kissing her pussy once more before he was crawling back over her, lapping the salty tears off her face, fusing his mouth to hers so she could taste herself on his tongue, feel her arousal wet on his mustache.

She was spent, physically exhausted, her body quivering violently underneath him. But as he turned, and she heard the rustling of fabric, her eyes snapped open. He'd never fully taken his underwear off, always just tugged the waistband down enough to release the thick length of his cock, the heavy weight of his balls.

He was back over her before she could fully dissect the change, taking his cock in his fist, the red-hot head of him leaking with need. Her cunt somehow, despite the fact that she'd already come twice, ached at the sight.

"You want this, baby?" He asked through a grunt, rubbing the bulbous head up and down her drenched folds.

"Yes please, please Papi." She whined, already looking fucked-out as she clawed at his arms.

"Cock hungry little girl." He groaned, barely pushing at her entrance, his eyes fluttering as he felt her warmth begin to surround the tip of his dick. "Always wet for me, pretty pussy always crying for my cock."

She didn't have time to respond, because he thrusted up into her the minute the words left his lips, tandem moans echoing out of both of their mouths as he hit the very end of her, kissing her womb with his cock, thick fingers digging into the supple skin of her hips.

"Feel so fucking good, cariño." He muttered, teeth bared, molars grinding as her pussy clamped tight around him. "My perfect girl. I need you to cum one more time on my cock, okay baby?" He leaned down and caught her lips with his, kissing her hard and short, his thrusts growing more desperate.

"Ke-ep talking to me and I'll come." She blurted out.

"That's all you need, honey? Just need Papi to talk you through it?" He grunted, nipping at her neck, his balls already tight, so close to pushing his spend up into her obscenely stretched cunt. "This pussy is mine, mine, do you understand? My pretty girl takes my cock so well. Such a good fucking girl for me, querida."

She moaned, loud and pathetic sounding as she felt her walls begin to flutter around him.

"Th-at's it, pretty girl. Cum with me, cum around my cock."

And she did, her back arching, her eyes spilling tears into her hair again as he moaned, sharp and guttural against her ear as the pressure within her increased as he pushed his seed up into her already crowded pussy.

And as he collapsed on top of her, rolling slightly to the side so he wouldn't crush her delicate form, he felt the fire that had been consuming his chest, that horrific, gaping wound explode. The thread holding him together caught aflame, sizzled and snapped as he became consumed by the crippling, heart-clenching realization that would bind him to her forever.

He loved her.

He was desperately, intrinsically, entirely in love with her.

It was either leave or accept.

And he had no choice but to accept because there was no other option. His gravitation to her, the hold she had on him, the love overflowing every inch of his physical form was too much to cope with.

Oh, he loved her.

Javier Peña was in love.

How absurd.

"I'll be right back, chiquita." He voiced through a groan as he pulled himself out of her.

And like she could somehow feel the switch that had just consumed him she whined, tugging at his arm and trying to keep him there.

Don't go, don't go, don't go.

"Hey, I'll be right back." He whispered, placing a kiss into the soft skin of her temple as she gazed up at him with a desperate expression that made his heart clench painfully in his chest.

I love her, I love her, I love her.

He quickly padded his way over to the bathroom, yanking on the hot water and grabbing a washcloth from the cupboard under the sink.

When he returned, she was curled up around a pillow, her pretty face hidden in the fabric, her legs still shaking.

"Come here, baby." He whispered, grasping her little ankle, and tugging her flat so he could crawl over her, swiping that warm washcloth over the sore, aching space between her legs.

He's being so sweet.

Her chest fluttered as she forced her eyes open to gaze down at him as he cleaned her up, his calloused thumb gently rubbing her inner thigh, his eyes soft and warm, dark hair plastered to his damp forehead.

He deposited the cloth into her dirty clothes hamper then crawled back into bed next to her, tugging her to his chest, placing a deep kiss onto the top of her head.

He didn't want to leave. He didn't think he could. Not after that realization had consumed him. How long had he loved her? Had it been from that very first moment?

She curled into his warm chest, the light patterns he was tracing up and down her spine making it impossible for her to open her eyes again.

"Sleep cariño." He hummed, feeling her already beginning to slip away against him, her little body twitching, content hums escaping her parted lips. "I'm right here."

He was right there, could never be anywhere else he realized with a kind of worrying cramp deep in his chest.

He wasn't good for her, could never be good for her. But he could not leave, not now, not after he had let her entirely consume him.

There was only one option left.

He had to tell her.

That way she could leave, cast him away in disgust. He deserved that, but oh it would hurt, like nothing before, like nothing ever could.

He tried to push the thought away, bask in her soft, warm presence as she succumbed to sleep curled up against his chest.

I love you, please forgive me.

He slipped into a deep slumber before he could mull over what he would have to do tomorrow, her perfect form wrapped up against him, a sleep void of nightmares for the first time since he landed back on US soil.