Mr Garcia (Mr Series)

“You want to come?” He flutters his tongue over my clitoris before he peels my panties down.

My back arches off the bed as I try to get a deeper connection.

Sebastian leans up onto his elbow next to me, and he slides three fingers deep into my sex. His jaw clenches, and my legs fall open enough for my knees to touch the mattress.

“You want to come, Cartier?” he whispers darkly.

My breath catches at the use of my name from the Escape Club. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it. I can’t believe he remembered.

He massages me deep inside, finding that perfect spot. My body begins to quiver. I’m like a puppet in his G-spot-finding hands, obeying his every command.

He jerks me hard with his palm. “Answer me,” he growls.

“Yes,” I whimper as the sound of my wet arousal begins to echo around me.

Fuck, he makes me so wet.

He bends and kisses my sex. His teeth graze my clitoris as his fingers work their magic, and I begin to shudder.

He stops, and his eyes hold mine. “Tell me he’s gone.”

My arousal fades, and I lift my head to look at him. “What?”

He slides his fingers in deep—four this time—and I feel the stretch of his possession.

My head falls back, and my legs rise off the mattress, hanging open in the air.

Ahh, that’s so…

“Tell me!” he barks.

“W-who?”

He sits up abruptly and rolls me over onto my stomach. He lies over me, his full weight pinning me down, his mouth to my ear. I can feel his erection through his suit digging into my behind.

“I don’t fucking share,” he hisses against my ear. Goosebumps scatter over my skin.

And then it all comes back to me.

I remember. I remember everything.

The edge of fear that Sebastian Garcia brings to the bedroom.

You never quite know what’s going to happen, whether he’s angry or if you’ll like it.

Will you make it through to the other side?

The only thing certain is that it’s about to blow your fucking head off.

Grabbing my hips, he pulls me up to my knees and comes into place behind me.

He spreads my legs and rubs the backs of his fingers through my sex. I’m swollen and dripping wet. How could I not be? I push my body back to try and get some much-needed friction. He grabs a handful of my hair and drags my head back. Then, he slaps me hard on the behind, and I cry out, “Ahh!”

The sound is loud. The sting sharp.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls.

I close my eyes, my body throbbing with arousal, adrenaline—a complete out of body experience.

I hear the unzipping of his pants. The tearing open of the condom wrapper.

Oh yes.

He puts his hand on the back of my neck and pushes my face into the mattress with force. I smile, and then I feel his tongue over my back entrance. He moans softly into me, as if losing control. He spreads my cheeks and really begins to eat me. I scrunch the sheets up in my fists as I begin to lose control.

Hell yeah. I’ve missed fucking this man.

He rubs the tip of his cock through the lips of my sex, and then he slaps me hard again. “Answer the fucking question.”

I shudder. “I’m going to come,” I whisper.

He grabs my hair and jerks my head back, bringing his mouth to my ear. “You come, and see what fucking happens to you.”

I turn my head to kiss him, and our eyes lock. Darkness swims between us. An arousal, an emotion, something bigger than what we are.

I’ve never experienced it with anyone else, but I know for certain that it’s something that neither of us can control.

“Kiss me,” I whimper. “Please.”

He bends and licks my open lips. “Tell me.” He twists my nipple hard.

I shudder, and he bites my neck until I cry out. Oh…

“He’s gone,” I breathe. “He’s so gone. There’s only you.”

I feel him smile against my cheek, and then he moves my face toward him and gifts me with a kiss. His tongue dances against mine. His eyes close, and I know that he’s right here with me.

Then, as if regaining control, his hand slides between my shoulder blades, and he pushes me back into the mattress with force. With a hand full of my hair in his grip, he slams inside me, hard and deep.

I cry out. He’s big. Thick and hard. His possession is unforgiving.

The burn is real.

I’m not an inexperienced woman, but hell, Sebastian Garcia makes me feel like an innocent virgin.

His touch is so different to any others’. His ownership is real.

He grabs my hips in his hands and begins to pump me hard. My entire body is jerking as he hits me.

The bed bangs against the wall, and I glance up and see our reflection in the mirror.

He’s still fully dressed in his suit. My innocent white nightgown is twisted up around my breasts. Sebastian tips his head back in ecstasy, and as the dim light reflects off the mirror, I see the shimmer of perspiration across his brow.

“Come inside me,” I pant. “I want to feel it. I want to feel it deep. Give me all of it.”

He screws his face up, as if losing control.

I want him to come first. I want to blow his fucking brain, like he does with mine. Then, I remember how much he likes dirty talk. I push back on his cock and circle my hips in an invitation.

“Fill me up,” I whisper.

He grits his teeth and slams in harder. “Come,” he commands, knowing he’s about to lose it.

“No,” I smirk. I like this game, watching Mr. Garcia coming undone may be my new favorite hobby.

“Fucking come,” he grinds out.

I wiggle my behind against his. “Make me.”

He spits saliva onto my behind, and then he slides his thumb deep into my ass.

I fall still.

Oh, he’s a bad man.

I see stars, and the air leaves my lungs.

He pumps me once, twice, three times, and I cry out as I come in a rush.

“Ah, FUCK!” His moan is guttural as if in pain. He holds himself deep inside me, and I feel the telling jerk of his cock. He continues to slam into me as he empties himself completely into me.

I slump onto the mattress, and he falls beside me. We are both gasping for air.

I smile and run my hand through his dark whiskers as we stare at each other. “You got come on your suit,” I pant.

He leans in to kiss me. “It was totally worth it.”

The door closing stirs my sleep, and I frown into the darkness.

What time is it? Looking around disorientated, I know it must be early.

My arm reaches out to the other side of the bed. It’s empty, and I glance over at the crumpled sheets.

I sit up onto my elbows and look around my room. The connecting door is shut. I get up and turn the handle, only to find that it’s locked from his side.

What?

Is he in there sleeping, or was that him that just left?

I get my phone from the side table and switch it on. It’s 6:40 a.m.

My hand drags down my face. He has a breakfast on in twenty minutes, so it was Sebastian who left.

I slump my shoulders in disappointment. I wanted to see him this morning.

He’s busy, I guess. He works damn hard. Is every day like this for him?

His schedule is back-to-back, but then I guess that’s because Theodore is away, and now Sebastian is doing two jobs instead of one.

I open the curtains to let the light in, and I stare out at the street below. The sun is rising but it looks cold. I see a man walking his dog, and a woman on a yellow pushbike. She has a breadstick in a basket at the front of her bike.

I squirm, still tender from where Sebastian has been.

A smile crosses my face, remembering last night and how wonderful it was—how wonderful he was.

I’ve never slept with a man like Sebastian Garcia before.

Powerful, dominant, and one hundred percent male perfection.

I remember the way he held my legs back in his take no prisoners way, like he owned them. The way he looked at me as he went down on me. The way he whispered in my ear as he gave it to me hard.

I feel myself beginning to throb down below.

Wow.

I stand at the back of the crowd while the formalities take place.

The press is here, and they are all snapping away with their cameras.

After touring three schools this morning, we are now at the university.

Sebastian is opening the new medical wing. The speeches are in full swing, and I puff air into my cheeks as about one hundred people gather around.

Sebastian is standing in line, listening intently. There is a big red ribbon across the entrance doors, waiting to be cut.

Sebastian smiles as he listens to the speaker gushing over the new facility. He’s transfixed on what they are saying, and I have to wonder how he holds his concentration for so long.

Who knew that the political campaign trail was so boring? Question after question about policies and budgets, projected incomes and roads, spendings and blah, blah, fucking blah.

Sebastian hasn’t glanced my way all day. Although I know, realistically, he can’t, I kind of thought he might give me the look at least once.

One night, and I’m feeling like this. Ugh, look at me being all needy.

I’ve been at the back of the crowd, watching all day while he talks in whispers to his advisor, Kellan. She stands beside him, and I don’t know what they talk about but it seems to be a lot.

I’m not an insecure woman; I’m just not. I hold my own and feel like I could take anyone on. But Kellan is next level beautiful and captivating. The worst part is that she’s intelligent, and even I find myself fawning over whatever it is she has to say.

Don’t be a pathetic, insecure bitch, I remind myself. That’s not who you are.

The funny thing is, though, that Mr. Garcia makes me feel more of a female than I’ve ever been before, and maybe that’s not such a good thing when there is another beautiful female thrown into the mix.

My eyes roam over her fitted black dress that shows off her beautiful figure and her high heels and sheer stockings. Her dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She’s just as interested in the speeches as Sebastian is.

I’m just interested in their friendship, that’s all. Nothing untoward here. I’m just doing my job. Crisis management.

Hopefully, it won’t be my fucking crisis I have to manage, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Stop thinking ahead. Maybe last night was a one-off thing. Maybe it will never happen again. But deep down I know that it will. It was too good for it not to. Not that I’m complaining or anything. Earth-shattering sex is totally worth the risk.

I drop my head and smirk. An annoying little voice whispers something deep in my psyche: It’s so much more than sex.

I stand up and straighten my shoulders. It is just sex, April. Don’t even fucking go there.

Bart digs his phone out of his pocket and then walks away to answer it.

The time comes, and Sebastian steps forward with the cameras snapping away. He cuts the red ribbon, we all clap, and he begins his speech.

“Good afternoon.” He smiles gracefully as he looks around at the crowd. “Thank you for the kind invitation. I’m honored to be here.”

My heart swells. He speaks so well in public. He never falters, and he never goes off script. His deep voice captivates everyone in the audience, and I realize it now… I see what they see.

Sebastian Garcia is a born leader. Driven and focused. I’ve listened to him deliver at least fifteen speeches in the last two days, and every single time I’ve been riveted. He’s strong and non-apologetic, but his message is good—always good.

I get why they call him the people’s politician. He really does put the people and their needs first.

Bart comes back to stand beside me. He leans in and whispers, “We’ve got a problem.”

“What’s that?” I keep my eyes on Sebastian.

“Gerhard is at the next venue.”

“Meaning what?”

“It’s being televised.”

I frown, still confused.

“He’s only at press releases when he wants to stir up trouble.”

“You think he’s here about Theodore?”

“Why else would he drive three hours and only attend the televised release? He’s going to blow the story out of the water. We’re fucked.”

I lean in and whisper, “Didn’t you say that we have to enter via the back entrance at the next venue to avoid the protestors who are there about the proposed roadworks?”

“Yes.”

“Then, let the protestors into the press release.”

He frowns.

“If they televise the protestors, there won’t be airtime left for speculation, will there?”

He raises his eyebrow. “Plant a distraction?”

“Attack is the best form of defense, Bart,” I whisper as I stare straight ahead. “And the public already know about the roadworks. With the protestors causing havoc, it’ll be cut short. No time for questions.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face. “I like the way you think, Bennet.”

“If Gerhard wants to play games, we’ll play them harder.”

Bart takes out his phone and walks off to make a phone call in private.

I turn back to Sebastian, and I watch him speak with such conviction and honor. I smile to myself. Maybe I will like this job after all.

Not today, Gerhard.

Not today.

We’re sitting in the bar, watching the televised recap of this afternoon’s press conference.

The protestors clamber along the side of the streets, yelling abuse while holding placards. We watch on as Sebastian gets whisked out and into a waiting black Audi.

We threw Sebastian to the wolves this afternoon. The press release lasted all of eight minutes, and my plan worked like a charm.

As Sebastian is whisked away, our group smile, chatter, and they raise their drinks to the television screen, excited that we held the story. At least for today.

We head back to London tomorrow, back to reality. Who knows what will happen then?

Sebastian is sitting by the fire with three men. He’s pensive this afternoon, and I know that the protestors ruffled his feathers. But we did what we had to do. He still hasn’t looked at me once, and although I hate to admit it, I’m beginning to feel rejected. “I’m going to head to my room,” I say.

“Great work today, April.” Bart smiles. “You did good.”

“Thanks.” I look around at the people I’m sitting with. “Goodnight.”

I take the elevator and head back to my room, where I pour myself a glass of wine and run a hot bath.

I hear a knock at the connecting door, and I smile when I open it. Big, brown eyes meet mine, and Sebastian steps forward to take me in his arms.

“Finally.” He kisses me. It’s tender and loving, with just the right amount of suction.

“Hi,” I smile.

Hi,” he breathes against my lips. His hand slides beneath my robe, and he cups my behind.

He’s different tonight.

Sated.

Last night he was here because he had to be. Tonight, he’s here because he wants to be.

“I need a shower,” he whispers.

“Okay.” I try to step back but he pulls me closer and kisses me again. “Let me rephrase that. We need a shower.”

I lie in the darkness and listen to Sebastian’s regulated breathing. He’s fast asleep, and like the creeper I am, I’m lying on my side, watching him. His dark hair and skin are a contrast to the white bedlinen. His big, red lips are slightly parted. His black, thick lashes fan across his face.

Breathe him in.

He was right: there is nothing more intoxicating than the scent of the person you want.

Just like last night, we fed on each other for hours until our bodies couldn’t take or give anymore.

Every time with him just gets better. Every time, I find something new. A deeper connection.

It scares me.

Because, right now, I’m taken back to the twenty-five-year-old who was besotted with the man she’s currently staying in a hotel with. The man she hardly knows.

The man she has every reason to despise.

I’m unsure if this is a good thing, but what I do know is that I couldn’t stop it even if I tried.

“I’ll have a double latte and a cappuccino, please,” I tell the server behind the cash register. “And two turkey, Swiss cheese, and cranberry sauce toasted sandwiches, please.”

“Sure thing.” She smiles and puts my order into the computer.

It’s 3:00 p.m. on Friday afternoon. Bart and I haven’t had lunch yet. We are across town. He’s dealing with a client who is in tears back at her apartment. Her husband, who is currently touring as a drummer in an iconic rock band, has just been arrested in Denmark on pornography charges. Bart is trying to figure out a plan of action and posting bail. How serious the charges are is unclear at this stage.

It’s a fucking mess. Who knew celebrities were such nightmares?

This job is exhausting. I’ve been away all week, and now this. I had to duck out and get us something to eat before we both fainted.

I pay my bill and take a seat as I wait for my order.

I’m not sure what’s going on this weekend, or what’s going on with Sebastian.

After he kissed me goodbye yesterday morning, I haven’t seen or heard from him. And I’m not asking or calling him. The ball is now in his court. If he wants this, he has to pursue it.

I’ve made it quite clear where I stand. Maybe a little too well.

At the tender age of thirty-one, I’m done with playing games.

Sebastian Garcia lights me up more than any other man ever has… even my ex-husband, and that’s saying something because at the time, I thought he was the bee’s knees. I’ve been going over Sebastian’s excuse over what happened all those years ago, and looking back at it from his side, I get it.

He had to stand by Brandon. He did the right thing. Even though I got stomped on in the process, what kind of father would he have been if he put a woman before his son? Someone he had known for all of two weeks.

The fact that he put his son—not even his son, but another man’s child that he took on—before himself says a lot about his character. There’s a lot to like about Sebastian Garcia.

His work ethic, his stance on policies, his intelligence.

His body.

His words come back to me:

There’s nothing more intoxicating than the scent of the woman you want.

The woman he wants. Wouldn’t that be something? I smile to myself, feeling bashful over how intense our lovemaking was. To say it was incredible would be an understatement.

“Your order is up,” the waitress calls to me.

“Thanks.” I stand and glance across the restaurant, stopping dead in my tracks.

I sit down immediately so that I’m not seen.

Helena is sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant with Gerhard.

Two of Sebastian’s biggest threats… together.

Fuck.

What are they doing?

I lift my phone and pretend to take a selfie. Instead, I snap a picture of the two of them together.

I find Sebastian and Bart’s names in my phone and send the picture to them, with the caption:

We have a problem.