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furious-rogue-stuff · 3 years ago

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Heat Chapter 9: Passion

This is a supersized chapter teeming with angst, and bursting with gratuitous filth, so strap in! I know my chapters are obnoxiously long, so I apologize in advance.

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, please let me know~!

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 21,000+

Summary: When confronted in the most unexpected place, you and Javi find yourselves confronting the turmoil of being without each other. Can you both find your way back to what you once had?

Warnings: Javier Peña being an angsty-yet-still-sexy dish, graphic depictions and salacious descriptions of sex, mentions of: angst, depression, frustration, jealousy, toxic behavior, some hurt/comfort, vulnerable emotional states, and birth control. Detailed descriptions of salacious oral sex (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex 🤭 Some Sad!Javi, Soft!Javi, Possessive!Javi, and yes, some emotional turmoil-addled Reader. Slight trigger warning for mentions of ‘not wanting to wake up’ dejection and pregnancy scare anxiety. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Taglist: @redsilentwolf28 @just-here-for-the-moment @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @mandosmistress @sarahjkl82-blog @omgreally @knittingqueen13 @mamacitapascal @chronic-nosebleed @hnt-escape @eri16 @gracie7209 @casssiopeia @athalien @qwertymx

Chapter 9: Passion

If there's one thing you've learned in your life, it is to be resilient in the face of devastation.

The morning you woke up in your bed alone, you'd been devastated, left raw until like a wound, you sealed up and became what you are now – an unfeeling thing. But you know that beneath that layer of thicker skin, you are still writhing and arcing, so you guard yourself and rule over your emotions with an iron fist. The first few days are easy, because your outrage stokes your conviction, but it eventually wanes, and you are left teetering between the gauntlet of emotions warring to take you over when by the end of the week, you dimly realize a problem.

You stare down at it now, and the anxiety wells like cold ice in your chest.

The birth control packet indicates you should be on your second day of your period, which hadn't come. You're late.

You. Are. Late.

The stifling panic fills you for days while you wait for your appointment, and even when you're waiting in the exam room for the doctor to come back with your results, the feeling like every atom in your body is going to combust wells inside you. What the hell are you gonna do?! What if they come back and tell you you're pregnant?

You are a bundle of roiling dread when the doctor comes in with a placid smile. She looks over your chart one last time before blithely declaring you're healthy and not pregnant, but should consider a new form of birth control pill, and she talks you through the options.

By the time you're walking into the office, you feel like a zombie, strung out from the anxiety and admonishing yourself over and over as you drop into your desk chair, and hold your head in your hands for a beat.

"Jesus, who died?" Ellis chortles when he comes back from his meeting and sees you gloomily huddled at your desk.

"…I think I need a vacation. Would you hate me for taking a week, sometime soon?" you deadpan, lifting your head only enough to peer at him through the canopy of your flopped hair.

"Of course not! You literally never take time. You're overdo, kid, so have at it," Ellis assures and pats your shoulder. "Anita and I are gonna have a movie night Friday. You're welcome to join! She's been asking about you a lot. Think she misses her shopping partner-in-crime," he muses as he sits and starts twirling his pen idly.

"Sure, I'd like that. Want me to bring anything over?" you chime, feeling a bit better for the distraction.

"Nah," he drawls before glancing over and musing haltingly, "Although…would you be open to me inviting a buddy…platonically, of course?"

You narrow your gaze judgmentally. "Who?"

"…Samson…" he mumbles softly and meekly looks at you with his version of puppy eyes.

Appalled, you snipe, "Why are you still angling to fix us up?! You promised you'd cut that shit out—"

"I'm not! I just like the guy and I like hanging out with the both of you, and hey – you said your talk went well, right?! So why can't we all hang out socially?" Ellis lobbies, emphatic as he adds, "What would it hurt? You're both adults who enjoy each other's company, albeit platonically, so why can't you hang out with the guy?"

Sighing, you whirl back to your laptop and mutter dryly, "…Fine. But I mean it, Ellis. No prodding or hassling us."

"Scout's honor!" he muses, and holds up the wrong hand sign, so you roll your eyes and shake your head as you go back to work.

What's the point, anyway? You're single and have loads of free time since Javi dropped off the face of the earth. He hasn't called you, and you haven't called him. Your indignant rage would not allow you to call him after he just came into your place like a tempest of angst and despair only to sneak out like a bandit in the night.

Yes, you'd both told each other you loved each other in Spanish countless times now, but something about speaking it into existence in your main language wields a different level of authority. Susurrating sweet nothings in Spanish, while delicious and titillating, doesn't hold a candle to being told in English by him that he loves you – then for you to profess you love him after all that's happened? It's different. It was like speaking your weakness for each other into existence where any of the major players in your lives would know its meaning, and it upped the danger factor for you, and you felt so right telling him, only to end up a vulnerable heap at his perceived rejection.

Part of you – a small, lame part – tells you maybe he was ashamed and needed to put space between you because he broke down in front of you. You were open to listening to that little voice, until the cacophony of other louder more brash voices sneered viciously, You told him you LOVE him and he LEFT. Do you need anymore of an indication on where he stands?! You pushed him away for a reason – and this is it! Because he was going to revel in what he could get from you for as long as you were worth the effort. You are a challenge no one can put up with for long…

Rescind, you let your anger simmer, and it kept you clear-headed and poised on the outside while you spent your nights tangled up in regret and self-recrimination.

Movie night at Ellis' is fine. You watch some atrocious Patrick Swayze action movie that is so insane you laugh out loud and tease Ellis, who vouches that the movie is amazing. Luke, for his part, just grins and waits for the arguing to stop so he can snicker in agreement with you, all the while Anita is giggling at her husband's expense.

You get your period a week late, but the ridiculous relief you feel at the monthly visitor only proves to you that you have no right to pine over a man that you'd literally been terrified at the prospect of having to tell you were knocked up. It makes it easy for you to compartmentalize further and wall yourself off to the longing loneliness, and once you've put in for you time off and traveled out of the city, you're dead-set on enjoying the break – without yearning for Javier or letting the pangs of hurt wrack you in your moments of weakness.

For his part, Javier is absolutely miserable.

He'd only left in the dead of night after you'd consoled and soothed him lovingly because he felt embarrassed – filled with mortified self-loathing and shame for unloading his grief onto you after you'd rejected him. Javier had sought you out by instinct – viscerally compelled to seek your grace in the moment of wretched weakness, and instead of you turning him away, you had pulled him close and held him from shattering like a feeble, lily-livered failure.

You'd shared your bed, given yourself to him, and had professed your love.

Javi couldn't accept it. Not when he'd hurt you and had given you no real option but to take him in. After all, what could you have done otherwise? You wouldn't have turned him away, and you're empathy for others? It's a glowing ember in your grace that he knows is hardwired and blazing with compassion in you. There was no way you'd turn someone away who was suffering, and he knew you didn't pity him, but the idea that you'd opened yourself up to him when he'd shown you his woeful, furious dark side was something he couldn't bare.

He didn't think he could hold your gaze ever again after that, so…he'd left.

But for days, he hated himself for it. Javier had been wrathful, bristling at every obstacle at work, and the more their operations were foiled, the worse his anger became – leaving him open to pushing the envelope on things more and more to achieve the new goal: Take down Escobar before Gaviria agreed to his surrender terms. This overzealous aim had him going all-in with Carrillo and his methods while Steve resisted.

His rancor only grew after Diana Turbay's spectacular death at the hands of Search Bloc and Gaviria's crumbling under pressure had left DEA sidelined yet again and Carrillo officially out of commission. Noonan's complete capitulation to the turn of events only exacerbated his hostility to his work, and when he and Steve had been relegated to rushing out to the coordinates they'd gotten and watched from afar as Escobar got a helicopter lift to his luxury prison, Javier had been flinty and unfeeling.

It was only when he was toasted and on his fifth drink after Carrillo ditched him and saddled him with the check that his thoughts dipped to his regrets, and fucking things up with you was at the top of the list, below not putting a bullet in Escobar's head. That realization punched him, leaving him reeling as he nursed his whiskey and scoffed at himself.

He had no right to call you. That's what he keeps barking at himself as he stumbles into his room at the crash house and sits on his bed, drunk and sentimental as he wrings his hand over his face and swears at himself.

"Fuckin' idiot. Can't ever look at her without wanting to kick your own ass, fuckin' worthless—"

His satellite phone rings, and Javi groans, too drunk to go back out, so he ignores it, kicks his boots off, and sprawls out on his bed, burying his head under the pillow and hoping he doesn't wake up – before a small voice mumbles appealingly, But you'd want to see her one last time…

It isn't until the next morning that he's meeting Steve at Carrillo's office that he finds out who they went after the night before. He gets a sick satisfaction knowing Sureshot got blasted with a shotgun round after the trauma that fucker branded in him in Campo Valdez, and Poison getting killed running away like a bitch was poetic justice.

When Carrillo makes it clear a select cadre of his men are going to be conducting a few more sweeps and raids before he has to completely disband, Javi volunteers to ride along with Trujillo while Steve heads back to spend some needed quality time with Connie and the baby. It's on the third outing that week that he's irascible with frustration, sitting in the passenger seat of the unmarked vehicle with Trujillo while they stake out a popular nightlife hub in Medellín's Zona Rosa – only a few blocks from La Dispensaria, when he deliberates about calling it quits on the tagging along and heading back to Bogotá in the morning – to breaking down and going to see you to apologize.

He knows you're liable to skin him alive for having the audacity, but after the last few weeks he's had, he'd actually enjoy getting verbally murdered by you at this point. Whether you'd not kick his ass too is still up for debate, so he's deliberating that while Trujillo is chatting over the CB radio to some of the other men stationed across the opposite avenue, keeping an eye out for known sicarios who'd yet to surrender for transfer to La Catedral for their bullshit prison sentence with their boss.

"—No, but the honeys are stellar tonight," the voice over the radio drawls in Spanish, and Javi snickers while Trujillo grins.

"It's really hopping, even for a Friday night. Tons of mamacitas," another voice chimes in, and Javi at least feels solace knowing he isn't the only one hard up for sex right now.

"Oh yeah? Describe the hottest one you see, then. Spare no details, Ramirez," Trujillo dares, and Javi rolls his eyes as he lights a cigarette.

"Oh, that's easy. In front of El Coyote right now? There's a beautiful honey…" Ramirez answers and goes into detailed description, sizing up the woman's height, weight, the color of her hair, the hourglass shape of her figure, how she has the kind of ass you'd fall to your knees and pray to, fantastic tits in the killer purple halter-top mini dress—

And when he describes how plush her lips are, and the steely, exacting glint of her eyes as she rebuffs a guy trying to flirt her up while she waits in the queue to get into the club with her friends, Javier winds up with a foreboding, teeming anxiety.

"Damn, she sounds like a stunner—!" Trujillo begins when Javier flicks his cigarette out of the window and signals for him to cut off the radio. "What's up?"

"Do me a favor and tell them I'm going in to do a visual sweep—" Javier begins to instruct as he starts yanking off the green tactical bullet-proof vest he has on and tosses it to the backseat before grabbing his leather jacket and shrugs it on so he can conceal his gun at the back of his waistband.

"What?! Why? There are no targets spotted yet—" Trujillo begins to protest as Javier storms out of the car and turns to grab the walkie-talkie sitting on top of the dash. "Peña—"

"Just do me this favor. I have to check it out," Javi implores, shooting Trujillo an earnest glare, so when the CNP officer nods curtly, he slams the door and starts stalking down the block towards the avenue, tucking the walkie in his jacket pocket as he goes.

By the time he gets there, the woman they described isn't in the line outside, so he goes over and demands that the bouncer let him in, flashing his badge covertly and cautioning him to avoid another shootout and let him check to make sure no targets are inside. Once the guy and the manager agree and let him through, Javier walks through the packed club, swiveling past the throng congregating just inside the door to go towards the bar and circle the space, eyes roving keenly in search for the mystery woman he hopes isn't you.

Staring across the recessed dance floor, he sets his jaw when he sees you dancing with some guy to the loud, boisterous reggaetón song. The strobe lights refract down on the battered floor and catch in your hair as it sways, as well as in the thin sheen of sweat clinging to your exposed skin in the stifling dance hall, but what has Javier boiling with rancor right now is how you're dancing with the guy.

Smiling, you laugh as Miguel – your cousin's friend – snickers in Spanish in your ear, "This might be a decent reggaetón spot, but I can't say I'm decent at dancing it yet so don't be disappointed."

Your smile is playful, albeit silly as you glance over your shoulder and pull his arms close. "Hah, you'll learn. The girl does most of the work anyway," you joke and punctuate your meaning by twerking your hips expertly against him while he crowds you from behind and seats his hands at your waist. Your dress is just tight enough to accentuate your curves, but stretchy enough to allow you the aerobic, gyrating freedom to dance with the confidence needed for the genre of music, strappy block heels giving you a bit more height but comfortable enough for the footwork and balance required to 'throw it back' and roll your hips sensually.

Your cousin and her other friend are flagging you down to come to the table now that she's gotten the drinks, and you wave in a gesture that says, 'After the song!' After all, you're having fun after weeks of being a morose shell, and Miguel is cute. Not really your type, but he's sweet and has made up for it by being easygoing. You're not looking to hookup or anything, but you like the attention. He's polite and smart, and your cousin talked him up to you the whole time she drove to the nightlife zone, and when he walked up right before you finally made it to the door, you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek after he'd exchanged the same greeting with your cousin. His attention is a confidence boost, and you know you look good tonight. Your hair is done, bouncy and flirty, your red-lacquered toe and fingernails are glossy, exposed skin smooth and radiant, and your makeup looks great thanks to your cousin's talent for getting done up.

"Damn, how the hell you move like that? Nobody else is moving like that—" he quips, after you undulate your pelvis to roll your hourglass shape like the best perreo dancer in the room.

"That's how we Boricuas do," you snicker and are just about to chime something else into his ear when you suddenly feel someone grab your upper arm and spin you away from Miguel. "¡Oye!" you begin to shout and whirl around prepared to throttle the jerk, when you're confronted by furious molten chocolate eyes that bore into you under scowling brows and from an expression etched in surly anger. "Javi—?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" he snarls at you and you are suddenly stunned by the vicious edge of his tone. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

"What—?!" you begin to stammer and weakly tug your arm back when Miguel intercedes on your behalf. The entire commotion has people skirting away on the dance floor and is bringing undue attention, especially when Miguel tries to step to Javi.

"Hey man, let her go—"

Javier lashes out and grabs Miguel by his collar shirt and yanks him close so he can ground out in Spanish, "Walk the fuck away while you still have a chance. She's coming with me—"

"The hell I am!" you snap and shove Javier at his yellow-shirt-clad chest, now irate that he would do something like this after going weeks without acknowledging your existence. "Who the fuck do you think you are—?!" you begin to rail when Javier jerks Miguel away and pulls you by your waist to tug you against him.

Just as you start to recoil away, he hisses in your ear, "This club's being surveilled by Search Bloc right now and you are coming with me before you get swept up."

Shocked, you stare in befuddled horror before you turn and see Miguel pushed pass the crowd and went over to the table your cousin is at, pointing over at you both. "Let me go tell my cousin and her friends to get out of here—"

"You're not leaving my side," he cuts in furiously and holds fast to your arm, so you huff and wring your arm out of his grip to instead grab his hand and yank him along behind you.

You feel Javier bristle, but you ignore his outrage and focus on going to the table and warning your cousin. "You guys have to get out of here. This is a friend from the embassy and he's warned me that there's going to be trouble here, so go out—"

"Are you serious?!" your cousin protests, so you firmly tell her to just trust you and you apologize to them before you explain you have to go and insist she not worry as you grab your clutch hastily as Javier finally grows impatient and starts pulling you away.

His hand is like a vice around yours as he shepherds you through the bustling club to the entrance and storms out, towing you along as he briskly strides away and down the opposite block towards a waiting jeep. You are seething with fury, but know better than to make a scene right now, so you keep quiet and squeeze his hand while he stomps to the car's passenger side where the window is rolled down and a plainclothes officer is sitting in the driver's seat, wearing a tactical vest.

"I'm going to the crash house. Didn't see anyone inside, and you didn't see me with her," he tells the man before tossing the walkie-talkie into the car onto the passenger seat and stalking off with you, and the officer says nothing in return, but you can hear over the radio someone else call in:

"Peña is clear and he took that honey with him—"

The man in the jeep radios back, "Negative. You didn't see that, so make sure to keep it off of the surveillance report—"

Your mind is racing as Javi wordlessly leads you through callejones at a clipped pace and avoids main streets, so it's a while before you're being pulled up a steep street and up the steps of a walkway leading to a nondescript house with no front-end access. It looks like a duplex – with a gate leading from the street to the back of the ground level unit and a set of steps around the side to the upstairs apartment. Javier unlocks the gate to the downstairs unit and pulls you up two steps as he stomps up and yanks the gate closed after you before opening a door and herding you into a small, shabby studio apartment, with just a kitchenette, rickety table, a ceiling fan, and a narrow bathroom adjacent to a rumpled bed, armoire, and a single nightstand tucked into the corner by the one large curtain-drawn window in the whole place.

Just as you're absorbing your surroundings after he flicks a switch on and the lamp in the far corner of the room illuminates the space, Javier locks up and whirls around on you. "What the fuck are you doing in a goddamned night club just blocks away from where fucking sicarios were gunned down by Search Bloc not even a fucking week ago?!" he bellows, eyes dark and flaring with fury as he grapples with his rage, and when you stiffen and gape at him, he impotently slams his palm into the cement wall. "Jesus fucking Christ, querida—" he thunders as he turns back towards you, but you snap out of your bemused shock and literally throw your purse at him.

The small clutch hits him in the chest before dropping to the tiled floor – momentarily stunning him, as you rile and bark, "What the fuck do you care?! I haven't heard from you in weeks! And now you come storming in and drag me out like I'm one of your fucking putas?! Why the fuck did you bring me here?!"

"I didn't have fucking time to think!" he shouts back, yanking his jacket off in a flustered huff and tossing it to the rickety table across from the kitchenette before reeling when you laugh disparagingly at that. "All I saw was you dancing with some pendejo when any minute a sicario could've walked in and Search Bloc would've followed with shotguns!" he declares furiously and cuts the distance between you, leaning close to emphasize, "You can be pissed at me all you want, but I-I couldn't live with myself if I'd been sitting outside that fucking club when they went in—"

"I'm not pissed – I am livid!" you yell and whip around him to grab your purse from the floor and begin to stalk towards the only door in the place, pointedly avoiding acknowledging what he's trying to stress to you. "I am sick of listening to your bullshit! I'm getting out of here—"

Javier grabs you, spins you around, and pins you up against the wall next to the table. "Goddammit—" he begins to growl and you fight him, smacking his hands away and shoving at him, hair tussling about and sweat prickling at your temples and your neck as you flail. "Fuck's sake, listen to me—!"

"You just left!"

He stops struggling at your vehement harangue, shocked to see your expression twist in frustrated shame as you push him back and turn self-consciously away from him. Disarmed, he stares at you, and when you refuse to look at him, he swears and reaches for you.

"Querida, I—I couldn't…couldn't," he struggles for words when he tugs you to turn and look at him, only for you to bow your head so your hair can cascade to obscure your features and deliberately avoid his gaze. He's hit with a ludicrous realization.

He'd not called you or reached out in any way, and had read into you doing the same to mean his insecurities were justified – that you hadn't wanted to see him anymore and had allowed him in to stay with you that night because you felt obligated. Instead, he now realizes you'd believed he left in rejection of your feelings, and to be confronted by him now after weeks of believing he didn't want anything to do with you was a gaslighting betrayal.

"I couldn't bare you looking at me differently after that night."

You are stunned and snap your gaze to finally stare up at him, thinking he has to be winding you up, but when you see those soulful eyes dark with insecure shame, you war with ambivalence, unsure how to take this when you'd been so open and clear with him that night.

"I told you I love you, and you left," you press, tone wavering as you add, "I only look at you differently now for leaving me like that – leaving me to twist in the wind like a fucking fool—"

"I never meant to make you feel that way," he stresses and grips your shoulders, but you stiffen, not trusting yourself to stay strong and not crumble with upset. "Cariño, I've been fucking miserable—"

"And what?!" you snap, shrugging his touch away. "If you felt so fucking miserable, that was of your own doing! I didn't push you away, Javier," tone sharpening, you jab, "You only seem to give a fuck when you see me with someone else—"

"Don't tell me I don't care," he cuts in gruffly and challengingly holds your gaze as he scathes, "It's hard not to care when I have to watch you grind your fucking ass against some guy in a club that's about to be raided—"

"Proving my point!" you snipe and storm past him, slapping your clutch down on the rickety table as you go and shoot over your shoulder, "Con quien perreo no es ningún pretexto para tú controlarme—"

He's scoffing, expression ferocious as he takes his gun out of his waistband and slams it down on the table before striding over briskly at you and grabbing you as you dismissively attempt to go into the little hovel of a bathroom. He yanks you over to press up against him as he growls, "I don't want to control you, but I will not stand by and let you do reckless shit just to get back at me—"

"Are you fucking high?!" you rail and go to smack him on the shoulder of the arm holding fast to you, but he grabs your hand and thwarts you, so you seethe, "You conceited hijueputa—I'm in Medellín on vacation visiting family! How the fuck was I to know what you're doing, let alone think,'oh, I'm going to go to a club to fuck with Javier Peña tonight'?!"

Well, Javier is begrudged to concede your point at that, and when his lips press together, you see the angst crinkle his eyes. "Ok…" he begins in a simmering tone, hands caressing down your arms as he reins in his temper. "I'm sorry. I…I just saw you and I didn't think. I—" he pauses and with effort, grounds out, "I had no right."

Your blazing glare wanes at that, and you find yourself leaning into him, hands independently deciding to caress up his chest and linger there as you stare hesitantly up into his brewed depths. "And?" you press, brows softening as they lift expectantly.

Javi huffs and encircles his hands to the small of your back. "And I'm a fucking idiot for leaving like that. I'm sorry, querida," he grumbles, but when your eyes soften and your plush lips part, he's tantalized to easily mutter, "Please forgive me, mi amor."

You can't believe how much you've yearned to hear him say that, and how absolutely alight you are to press up against him and meet his lips with a hungry kiss you've been burning with for weeks – scorching with since you saw him looking like a man possessed earlier under the flashing strobe lights. Javier claims your mouth with gusto, hands roving your warm body and fixating on the feel of your ass in his kneading palms again. You gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders and slink against him, rubbing your womb along the bulge you feel against you and earning a muffled grunt and a smoldering look from Javi that spikes arousal into your core and has you instantly wet. Heat burns your cheeks as he easily picks you up and carries you the ridiculous short distance to the bed, where he places you into the rumpled sheets that smell of him interwoven with cigarette smoke and must from the cooped up air in the small apartment.

His mouth latches to the side of your neck as he gropes his palms over your breasts and groans when he doesn't feel a bra beneath the fabric and can relish your studding nipples pressing up against his touch. You whimper and start to yank at his shirt, wanting him naked immediately. He grunts and sits back on his haunches so you can rush to take his damned stiff yellow button shirt off while you kiss his lips and let him hike your dress' skirt up. Before he can pull your panties down your hips, though, you pant against his lips and bite your bottom lip ruefully.

"L-Let me take these off?" you murmur breathily and gesture to your heels, and he realizes you think he's going to dominate you like the last time he got insanely jealous seeing you with someone else.

Javier holds your avid gaze while he reverently takes your heels off for you and tenderly skates his large hands up your shins, squeezes your calves affectionately, and hooks them to the back of your knees so he can tug you to the edge of the bed and reach around you to ease the zipper of your halter top dress down. Titillated by his gentle treatment, you reach behind your neck and unhook the clasp of the halter, allowing your dress' bust to fall away so Javi can caress his warm palms over your bare breasts, humming in pleasure when he toys his thumbs over your nipples and watches them harden more, peaking for him before he bows his head and suckles one lovingly before trailing his mouth over to the other and repeating the doting treatment.

You are squirming, hands burying in his hair as you sigh, "Javi, please…want you."

He groans and resumes stripping you out of your dress, tugging the flirty ensemble off your figure and unseeingly tossing it aside as he focuses his lusted gaze on your skimpy panties. Your crotch is already soaked through and Javi is fiercely turned on by how you lie back and start peeling them off your hips, thighs trembling as you shimmy the sullied garment down your legs and blush, feeling filthy and needy.

Seeing your soft, wet pussy has him rushing to take his clothes off to climb onto the bed, and when you watch him and press your lips together to wet them, he's buzzing with pent-up desire as he gets in bed and settles between your welcoming thighs.

You both skip the foreplay and work to undo weeks of hurt and loneliness, reveling in how good it feels to be each other's again. When he enters your tight sheath, you bite your lip and clutch his back as the exquisite, familiar burn of his thick cock breaching you singes your aroused muscles. Javi groans and nuzzles your jaw when he thrusts home and you whimper in delight, pelvis already angling for him to go deep in you as your knees dig into the sides of his ribcage for purchase.

"Mmm, m-missed you," he murmurs in a rough tone, voice pitched from the effort to not slam into you to instead let your heavenly heat get used to his size again.

You sigh a pleased hum. "Not as much as I missed you, malcriado," you wryly purr and cup the back of his head to guide him from nuzzling you to capture your lips in a hearty, passionate kiss.

Javier makes love to you with incandescent devotion, driving you over the edge of a desperate orgasm that has you curling up against him and moaning his name in a tight whimper, body going taut as he prolongs your bliss by hammering his cock into that ruinously divine pleasure point inside you until your rippling, flooding sheath snatches his climax from him when you combine its power with the beseeching wrapping of your legs around his waist and toss your head back as you root him deep inside you when he starts to come.

Muffling his shout of completion into your neck and the pillow, Javi shoots his cum inside you and shivers when you hum in accomplished delight. He can feel your hungry, silken walls flutter around him as your core buzzes from the force of his climax. It's astounding to his sex-addled mind, and you kiss the side of his head while he recovers.

"Oh…oh fuck…mmmph," he rumbles in a heady grouse as he nuzzles your sweaty skin and grunts, lying on top of you and feeling you caress your fingertips languidly along the contours of his muscled back. When you hum in question, he mumbles flatly, "This fucking bed is too small. If I roll over, I'm going to fall off."

You stifle a giggle, but when Javier lifts his head to shoot you a lustful, snooty look, you burst into a soft, doting laugh, and he huffs and mercilessly presses cheeky kisses into your temple, jaw, everywhere while you laugh until the melodious pitch whines into a silly sigh before you lovingly tilt your head to meet his lips with yours, laving plush kisses in retaliation before nuzzling his cheek.

"Javi, this place is a dump," you jibe softly after he maneuvers to lie on his side and pulls you to face him on your side, slinging your leg to hook at the knee around his hip so you both can be on the narrow mattress and not be precariously on the edges.

The feeling of you carving your hips around his has his desire stoking up again, but he forces himself to just hold and caress you. "It's called a crash house for a reason, baby," he drawls and settles his palm over your derrière to herd you closer, not at all bothered by the damp spot left on the sheets, but having to ease your bashful fidgeting as his hand comes close to your still fluttering and weeping pussy. "…Although it's bearable now that I have you in this god-forsaken bed," he purrs as he presses his nose to your hairline at your nape and inhales your scent before planting kisses just under your jaw. "I'll be able to sleep better with your smell—"

"Ah-hah, sleep better, sure," you quip and make an amused sound when he grunts and squeezes your ass irreverently. "…I don't want to get you in trouble, so if you need me to sneak out—"

"Only a handful of people know about this location, and I trust them all with my life. Don't worry," he muses reassuringly and kisses you. "Steve stays in the studio upstairs when he's in town. Not sure how much longer that'll be the case, all things considering…" he mutters tersely, but softens when you caress your fingertips along his forehead and playfully ruffle his hair. He scoffs when you purse your lips goofily at him. "What's that look, atrevida?"

"I just realized how insane that probably looked from a civilian's point of view," you remark sardonically and give him a meek smile. "I should probably call my cousin and let her know I didn't get snatched up by some crazy man—"

"I was not being crazy," he grumbles, brows furrowing and mouth pulling down into a frown.

"Javi – you threatened someone and yanked me out of the club," you insist, but grin when he glowers and diverts his gaze. "Is there a phone in this shack?" you muse and affectionately trace his scowling lips with your index finger to force him to look into your eyes again.

He grunts and grimaces. "Shit. I left my satellite phone in the car with Trujillo…"

You roll your eyes and continue to trace your fingertips along his handsome features, missing how his jaw tenses when your trim, rounded and currently red-lacquered nails graze impishly along his cheek, or how his eyes get half-lidded when you map your touch over his brow, along the defined ridge of his nose, across his moustache, and mischievously skate along his rugged-yet-boyish lips.

He hums an alluring sound as you fan your fingertips to his sideburn and comb them into the hair that frames around his ear. There's a spot just behind there and close to the nape of his neck that makes Javi close his eyes and relax into you, and he dissolves in sated tranquility when you draw little circles there and kiss his jaw.

"…Who you staying with?" he drowsily asks as he rests his forehead against yours when you loop your arm to anchor around his shoulder.

"My grandmother," you reply and brush your nose affectionately against his. "I'm heading back to Bogotá early Sunday."

There's an easy silence for a beat, and you are content to just breathe him in, having missed his scent so much.

"…Can I get a do-over?"

His tentative croon stirs you to open your eyes and bat your lashes at him when his big, brown puppy eyes bore into yours.

"Only if you promise never to disappear on me like that again," you murmur, but press, "I mean it, Javi. If you can't or don't want to see me, just tell me. Don't go M.I.A. on me."

"I won't. I promise," he answers without hesitation, baritone like honeyed gravel as he husks, "I love you, preciosa."

You feel yourself melt, heart aflutter and core pulsing with incandescent, enamored fulfillment. "I love you too," you susurrate and smile when he cups your jaw before he kisses you adoringly.

Once you settle into a comfortable cuddle against him, you curl into his chest and nuzzle his throat while he holds you flush against him as he semi-reclines on his back while he smokes a cigarette and watches the smoke undulate in a whirlpool motion from the languidly spinning ceiling fan.

Your fingers are lazily skimming along the length of his side while you come down from the ardent high of having been so furious and then so turned on within the snap of a flaring temper. Part of you is admonishing you snidely, but that small little part of you is reveling in having been right – in having guessed right about Javier's motives for dipping out on you and staying away. Pressing your lips together and wetting them, you're about to ask him if he's going to have to tell his superiors about why he went AWOL tonight, when he exhales and flicks his cigarette ash in the ashtray on the table tucked next to the bed while his fingers wrapped around the curve of your waist flex and knead you affectionately.

"Where'd you learn how to dance like that?"

The naughty pitch of his rumble makes you bite your lip to stifle your lopsided smirk. "Why do you ask?" you feign innocence and feel his huffy grunt against your cheek, so you lean up to sprawl flirtatiously over his warm and naked form, hand pillowing your chin as you smile deviously at him. "Liked what you saw?" you prod, watching as his eyes flash with surliness while his lips press together and the muscle in his jaw clenches. "Next time, I might be perreando with you, celoso."

"You fuckin' better be, bravita," he grumbles and squeezes your ass. "Although I don't know if I could have this grinding against me in a crowded club and not take you somewhere to perrear for real," he mutters saucily and taps your ass for good measure, earning a tense little noise from you.

He snickers and finishes his cigarette when you narrow your eyes at him and retaliate by rubbing his left nipple and watching it harden. When he resists squirming, you sling your arm to straddle his ribcage so you can dip over and lick his nipple, causing him to hiss a startled intake of breath and tense under you. "Are you gonna have to report in to anyone about tonight?" you casually ask before blowing cold air over his skin and glancing sultrily up at him while he releases a shaky breath and distractedly stubs out the cigarette so the hand that isn't clutching the supple globe of your ass can grip the sheets as you flick the tip of your tongue along his peaked flesh.

"I—I don't answer t-to anyone, atrevida," he hitches and gets hard when you straddle him and kiss a path to his other nipple. "N-Not supposed to be t-tagging along anyway, s-so nothing to report—hmph," his reedy grouse is cut off by him biting his lip and muffling a groan at you grazing your teeth along his sensitive flesh and salaciously grinding your slick, dewy pussy along his ramrod cock.

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow as you sit up and quit your teasing to look at him seriously. "What do you mean?" you inquire, brushing your fingers to comb your hair backwards behind your shoulders as you straddle him and stare at his bemused, sexually disconcerted expression – riled by the dichotomy of being aroused and wary now. "Javier—"

"It's nothing," he insists curtly and wraps his palms around your waist, trying to coax you back down and over his cock, which you feel twitch and press along the firm and supple divot of the back of your inner thigh when you resist his dismissive maneuvering. "Mmm, it's nothing you need to worry about, querida—"

You huff, grabbing his wrists and pressing into pressure points there to force him to stop angling you closer. "If it's the kind of nothing that'll get you in trouble—"

"It won't get me in any more trouble than the usual shit," he mutters and licks his lips, fidgeting under you. "Fuck, baby, I don't want you to worry, so just pretend I didn't say anything—"

"Javier," you press, but he impatiently tosses his head back and huffs, so you scowl and splay your hands to his chest before adjusting and squeezing your knees at his sides, just above his hips. "You can't just say something like that and then tell me not to worry. That's not fair—"

"I know..." he mutters and drags his hand through his hair before fisting it in exasperation with himself. "…We're not supposed to be riding along anymore with Search Bloc. They're getting disbanded, and were told to cease operations," he explains tersely as he drags his hand over his eyes and exhales. "But we want to nail as many of those motherfuckers as we can before they go to La Catedral. The last raid was big…" he remarks and flops his hand down to the bed, giving you that flinty stare. "The way shit's going though, I don't know if they're going to rotate Steve and I out, or leave us to go fucking stir-crazy on the sidelines."

You absorb that and are suddenly struck with an awful thought, one that has you curling down to cuddle him and kiss his jaw. "…Would it be so awful if it was the latter?" you whisper, and feel his hands hesitate in their caress of your back.

Javier has the impulse to grumble a resolute 'Yes,' but when he feels you start to coil up with tension, he realizes what you're saying. It's not that you want him to be frustrated at work, but at the very least, he'll still be at work and not in danger while doing rogue cowboy shit that could end up burning him bad, or worse. It's the first time you've ever expressed concern about what he does, and the prospect of him being in harm's way is one you can't really abide right now.

"…No, it wouldn't be the worst thing," he muses, tone guarded as he kisses the top of your head.

"Mentiroso," you accuse acerbically and pull away, going to slink off of him, but he easily wrangles you back and pins you into place. "Javier, I'm all sweaty and sticky, so let me—"

"I like you sweaty and sticky," he croons ruggedly and starts to grope down your body. "Why am I a liar?"

"Because I know it'd be awful for you and you're saying shit just to appease me," you sneer and try to ignore how his touch is making you feel, how tingly you're getting by lying on top of him like this with his golden skin and warm muscles pressing into you. When he rumbles a laconic sound, you pout. "What?"

"Why're you so damned terca?" he jokes in a flat bass while you purse your lips defiantly. "Just let me appease you, dammit."

You don't know why, but that makes you crack a smile, unbidden, so you try to scoff and turn your face away, but he doesn't let you. He pulls you close and effortlessly maneuvers to slink you onto the bed while he sidles close and reverently caresses the backs of his knuckles along your cheekbone.

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened…" you murmur haltingly and stare into his coffee-brewed eyes, watching as they soften at the corners while his brow quirks in understanding.

"Well, I don't know either, so why bother worrying about it?" he offers glibly, and you flick your stare away. "Cariño, I've been doing this a while. I know where to draw the line. I never get in too deep…" he fibs smoothly, and kisses your cheek. "Just trust me. The last thing I'm gonna do is fuck up bad enough that I get myself killed—"

"Don't pull that flippant shit on me," you cut in, getting miffed now. "It insults my intelligence, and I do not like it. I don't presume to ask you about your work or tell you how to do it, but I can't…I can't just pretend I don't worry anymore."

Javier sobers at that and sits up on his elbow so he can look at you straight on. Your eyes are flashing with defiance, but the way your brows dip with concern and you press your lips together to flatten out? It makes it obvious what you're trying not to be obvious about.

You're scared for him.

Javier exhales moodily at himself and rubs at his eyes in frustration. "Goddammit," he grumbles. "Can we just change the subject? I'd rather talk about literally anything else," he tersely mutters and drags his hand through his hair again, obviously perturbed while you rile at that and huff.

"Hah, alright then. How about you tell me how many women you've fucked around with in your entire tenure in Colombia, hmm?" you crossly muse and sit up to lean back against the headboard and haughtily stare at him.

"…How many men have you been with?" he deflects and tries to match your haughty stare with a cavalier leer.

"About a fraction of the number of your conquests, I'm sure," you shoot back, imperious now as he tries not to get riled by the thought. "Well, if you need time to count backwards, I'm gonna freshen up," you declare and slink off the bed and into the very narrow bathroom.

Once you've slid the pocket door shut, you cheekily grin as you hear him grumble peevishly to himself. When you come out a few minutes later and expect to see him still stewing grumpily on the bed, you instead find the lamp turned off, and turn and see Javi standing at the open fridge where he's just pulled out two bottles of Postobón. He shucks the caps off and rumbles, "I'd rather not answer your question, because I know no matter what I answer, you're going to want to hit me, so instead," he turns and pauses, getting distracted by how hot you look just standing there in the nude, looking alluring with your tousled hair. He closes the fridge and holds out one of the cold bottles. "Peace offering?"

You're so annoyed with yourself for being so taken by him standing there in his nude glory, looking like a damn dish and offering you a delicious Colombian soda. Pursing your lips derisively, you take the offering and snootily turn to strut back to the bed. He chuckles and joins you, smugness cresting his features with mirth as he climbs under the rumpled covers with you and watches you swig the soda back and hum with relish. He takes a long pull from his bottle, and you watch how his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. When he sets his empty bottle aside, you surprise him by slinking close and kissing the side of his neck, and his hum becomes a groan as you suckle on his skin.

"It's so annoying how sexy you are," you grouse and scamper into his lap, straddling him as he grunts and blinks wryly at you. "Exasperating, even," is your blasé aside as you swig the bottle to your lips and guzzle down the last of your soda.

"Is that so?" he drawls and nuzzles a kiss into you sternum, cheekily holding you in place as he tilts his face up to nudge you jaw affectionately when you huff and set your now-empty bottle to the side table tucked next to the bed.

"Yes," you hiss and cup his chin as you plant a chaste kiss on his lips. "And worse, you make me want to do things to you," you purr, punctuating it by trailing your hand from his chin down his jaw and his throat, earning a shiver from him as you press it to his clavicle and nudge him to lean against the headboard before you add sultrily, "Filthy, naughty things."

Javier's eyes smolder and his lips part breathily, getting so aroused as you settle over his lap and deliberately nestle his erection against your eager, warm heat before leaning close to caress open-mouth kisses along his jaw.

"Hmmph, the feeling's mutual," he husks before scraping his teeth over his bottom lip as he seats his hands on your hips and guides you to grind your pussy over him.

You exhale to conceal your excited stutter of breath, but it's no use. He can see in your dazzling eyes how excited you are, and can definitely feel it as he ruts against your dewy folds and tastes it on your skin as he licks your studded nipple. Your hands settle at the back of his neck, caressing down his nape before your fingers fan up and comb into his hair at the back of his head when he purses his mouth over your delicate flesh and plucks a delighted sigh from you.

The filthily delicious friction of rubbing against him like this always gets you needy and wet, and the feeling of his thighs tensing with the effort of not bucking up brutishly into your heat wrecks you with pining pride. This handsome and dashing stud is yours to love on, and he's content in being driven wild by you.

"Am I still the only one?" you murmur ardently against his lips after you tug him by his hair to meet your kiss only to deny him and teasingly pull back at the last second.

You feel Javi's cock twitch against your clit as you grind over his length. "Yes," he hitches out, baritone made of gravel now as he rumbles, "You're the only one I ever want – don't want anyone else." When he sees your eyes flicker with want, he confides, "Haven't wanted to be with anyone else…just want you."

Your heart feels like a beacon lit aflame at that, and you radiate with your love as you capture his lips and kiss him with passion, draping your arms around his shoulders and letting him encircle his arms around you. Javier plunders your mouth with his tongue as he lays claim to your molten, tingling sheath with his ramrod cock. His mouth drinks you in, causing your gasp to be muffled while you are sublimely writhing in his lap before you start to ride him while he kisses you breathless.

The bed protests lowly as you start to fuck yourself onto Javi's cock with zeal, chasing the bliss he's scorched into your core and has it zinging through you to light at the pleasure point where he's buried deep inside you. He only breaks his possessive kiss to catch his breath and bite down on the moan vibrating to let loose from his chest, hand guiding your hips clutching at your supple curve while he cups the other at your nape. Your hands grip his pecs as you whimper and revel in Javier helping you quicken the pace of your lovemaking, barreling you closer and closer to the scintillating euphoria you're burning to get lost in.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you slam yourself down hard onto his cock and hit that exquisite pleasure nested inside your core, earning a reedy cry as you repeat the pivot of your hips and keep pounding Javi dead-on into that bundle of ecstasy as it pulses while your cunt ripples around his throbbing cock.

A pitchy mewl singes out of you as Javi's feral groan of desperate effort vibrates into you when he buries his face into your neck and starts to plunge up into you as you pound yourself down on him. Just as you feel his cock swell inside you, you grind yourself down on him to the hilt and climax, gasping out at the ruinous bliss of losing yourself to pleasure as you wail, "Oh Javi—!"

It's all too devastatingly fierce and divine for him, and just as you begin to mindlessly ride him through your aftershocks, Javier grips your hips and slams you down onto him as he erupts with his orgasm, harsh exclamation of pleasure no longer muffled by your shoulder as he tosses his head back while he writhes from your fluttering, quaking spasms milking him of his hot seed. He moans your name and babbles hoarsely, "—Oh fuck, oh fuck-fuck-fuck—!" as he feels your walls clamp around his cock whilst it pumps cum deep inside you, causing you to fidget from the toe-curling-and-wonderful sensation, which has Javi twitching and curling against you, seeking more of the hypersensitive friction. "Mmmph! F-Feels fucking good, baby," he rambles roughly into your jaw as you squeeze your knees around his waist and whimper salacious little sounds.

You are spent when your pleasure is pulled taut and you can feel your core trembling from the force of your orgasm, leaving you drunk and languid in his arms as you cling to his shoulders. You hungrily catch your breath as you sag into him and melt when he pulls you close and nuzzles you.

"—Hmm, m-made a mess," you mumble weakly against his neck, face burning as you feel his spend dripping out of you and onto his apex after he lounges lazily back against the headboard.

"No you didn't," he croaks, voice becoming velvet over steel as he purrs, "I did, and it feels good."

You snicker breathily and bury your blushing face into his shoulder, completely flustered by how infatuated you are with him being boastful and proud of something so decadently sinful. "…I hope you have a change of sheets. These were already filthy before all this—"

"I can't fucking move after that… 'mnot changing a damn thing right now," he mutters sardonically and squeezes you affectionately against him as he presses goading kisses into the side of your head. "Look at me, mi amor," he purrs, and you sigh wistfully and turn to face him. You're embarrassed by how watery your eyes are, how mussed and tousled your hair is as it sticks to your sweaty skin, and how you're still catching your breath, so you're panting like a thirsty, feral thing. Javier's eyes soften as he takes you in. "Eres tan pinche hermosa…" he declares as he pets your hair from your face so he can curl his palm along your cheek and swipe the sheen of sweat from the top of your cheekbone and the edge of your orbital bone. You lean into his touch and smile, buzzing and aflutter from his praise. "All the guys were drooling over you on the radio, and when they described this beautiful face, I knew it had to be you," he confesses in a murmur and brushes his lips against yours.

You hadn't even had any time to wonder just how the hell Javier had known you were at that club, and hearing it now has you glowing like an ember, rapturous as you brush your nose along his and caress soft kisses across his delectable lips.

"Drooling how?" you idly ask as you kiss his cheekbone and nuzzle his sideburn before trailing your mouth to toy with his earlobe.

He grunts appealingly and tilts his head to the side when your mouth trails delicious heat down his neck before latching on that spot that gets him burning with need. "—Hmm, how you have an ass they'd fall to their knees and worship—" Javi blurts shamelessly.

You scoff a laugh and snicker, "That is what's said over radios during a surveillance operation?!"

"When it's a bunch of hard-up fuckers, yeah," he remarks cavalierly and shrugs, and you shake your head sardonically and rest it on his shoulder, smiling when he adds, "Now I gotta hope they don't go home and lust after you—"

"Does that include you?" you tease, and elaborate when he quirks an inquisitive brow at you, "Being a hard-up fucker?"

"Yes," he grumbles and gives you a puckish sneer. "Only I got to take you home for the night," Javier punctuates his boast by reaching his hand to fondle your breast as he kisses the top of your shoulder.

"…Just for the night?"

He can feel your simmering pensiveness, and the self-conscious way you flick your glance away has him blazing. "I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to," he declares with resolute feeling, and you melt, wrapping your arms tighter around him and sighing. "I want to be with you, querida," he states in an irrevocable baritone.

Forever? You think, hoping and pining, but not daring enough to ask him out loud. "I love you, Javier," you tell him and look him in the eye. "I just want to be with you too."

He's overcome with the cresting wave of pride that wells up in his chest at your words, and when you kiss him, Javi feels an incandescent feeling earth itself in his core, tethering deep and giving him something he hasn't felt before.

Javier feels like he belongs, utterly and completely. And most importantly, he feels like he belongs to you – with you.

It settles him, and has him content and sated after he's pulled you down into the rumpled bed and cuddled you until you lovingly curled to sidle his hips and fell into blissful sleep with your head on his chest and your arm draped over his stomach. He lays there and listens to your soft breathing and stares up at the slow spinning fan, thinking about how much being with you has lightened his burden and given him something to strive for that had nothing to do with bloodshed or retribution. You are his only respite, even when you were both fighting ferociously over stupid trifles.

He just doesn't know what this means long term. Would you eventually require more of him? Would you set out conditions and see if he was willing to meet them? His mind calms and starts to doze on the dim musing, I'll give her anything she wants…

It's some time before dawn when you stir, eyes fluttering as the early rays of light filter in between the seams of the drawn curtains over the window. Your head is resting on Javier's pectoral, his deep breaths soothing and wanting to keep you drowsy. Sleepily, you go to roll over and turn away from the sunlight—and almost fall out of bed. Your startled squeak wakes Javier and he catches your waist before you completely tumble off. He pulls you back and you are frazzled by his impish, albeit tired, expression.

"I told you this damn bed is too small," he murmurs and angles you to press up against his side while he yawns.

You grumble sulkily and bury your embarrassed features into his neck. "You finally get me back to your place and I almost face plant—"

"This is not my place," he corrects, and rubs at his eyes with the edge of his hand. "I have a nice big bed where I can toss you around on without ever worrying about you face planting."

"I'm sure," you deadpan and sit up, shrugging the sheet from your arms so you can stretch and roll your shoulders. Javier affectionately watches you, enjoying how grumpy you are first thing, and admiring how your breasts incline as your arms bend at the elbows from you arching the kinks out of your back. "What time is it?" you ask as you muffle a yawn before finally catching Javier's leering stare.

He reluctantly tears his coffee-brewed gaze from you to glance over at his nightstand and grab his watch. "It's a quarter to 6," he rumbles and sets it back down as you hum and start to maneuver the tangle of sheets from around your legs so you can slink out of bed. Your feet don't touch the floor before he easily loops his forearm around you and pulls you back. You make a silly sound of protest before he nuzzles kisses into your neck and mumbles, "You look so sexy—"

"You mean filthy, because I sure feel it," you giggle wryly and toy with his ear before combing your fingers into his hair.

"…That doesn't sound like a bad thing, querida," he purrs and starts slipping his hand under the sheets when you shy away and push him back. "C'mon—"

"I need a shower," you insist, and then wink flirtatiously. "Wanna join me?"

"Goddammit. I can't," he grouses and wrings his hand over his features. "The fucking shower stall barely fits me. No way we can both shower at the same time," Javier explains and scowls when you give him a teasing look. "Go, before I keep you nice and filthy," he sits up and husks before he brushes a kiss over your shoulder.

"Such a shame," you lilt as you slink away and into the bathroom, shooting him a flirty look as you turn on the light and let him get a gander at your nude form before you slide the pocket door closed.

He huffs and swings his long legs to the side of the bed, stretching and grunting, smirk quirking his lips as he reaches for his cigarette pack. As he smokes, he goes over to the window and peers out the corner of the curtain at the street beyond, frowning when he realizes he's gonna need to find a phone to call Trujillo for a ride back to Carrillo's base of operations to pick up his local ride. He cracks the window open so the fresh early morning air can filter into the stuffy studio. Turning when he hears you open the pocket door, he's surprised to see you looking meekly over at him.

"What's wrong?" he asks and you raise a brow at his unabashed nude self.

"You only have ONE towel, Javier?" you pipe in a goofy admonishing tone.

"Yeah, so?" he remarks innocently, and you scoff. "You need me to show you how to work the shower too, don't you," he drawls, amused when you purse your lips.

"…Yes," you begrudgingly admit, having glared about the narrow shower stall trying to figure out which of the 3 levers actually turned the cascade on, or which was hot water once you'd relieved yourself and hoped to quickly hop in and hop out without his help.

He chuckles, putting out his cigarette and lopes over, taking the opportunity to cheekily tap your ass as he crowds you and deviously shows you which is the hot water and how to turn the two levers to get the cascade going. You roll your eyes, but smile when he gets the water the right temperature for you before groping his hands affectionately over your form as you step in and let him shut the semi-frosted shower door. Mercifully, Javier is not a slob, so you twist your hair up and tuck the end within a self-contained chignon/bun and pick up his bar of soap from the inset dish and lather it up to work your soapy palms over your body.

You don't immediately realize Javi stayed in the bathroom until you hear the sink start running. Glancing over, you can make out his silhouette as he brushes his teeth, and you smile at how oddly domestic this is. Sure, you both have showered and gotten ready together, but this feels…quaint. As you keep bathing, Javier quickly shaves and takes the chance to watch you blithely bathe while he dries his face. He tries not to keep staring as he lifts the seat up and relieves himself, sighing. Once he's done, he can't keep his eyes away from you for long, so…he doesn't. He fixates on how your semi-frosted form skims your hands up your torso to rinse the soap off your breasts before brushing them back down to glide the water over your stomach as you tilt your face into the cascading stream.

You're rinsing the soap off your back and tenderly washing between your aching, sore thighs when you glance through the semi-frosted door and see him watching, and you don't know why it sends a tingly thrill down your body, but it does, so you feign innocence and call out, "Almost done. I won't hog all the hot water."

"I'm gonna need the cold shower at this rate," he drawls gruffly, baritone hitting that canela-smooth bass that always delights you.

You smile and maneuver back to face the nozzle and finish rinsing the last of the soap off before opening the door and letting the steam coil out and reveal your drenched, nude form. "Done. Come and switch places," you bat your lashes and gesture for the lonely towel hanging up on the rack.

Javier's eyes are molten with his insatiable urge for you, and you can plainly see what effect your sultry stunt is having on him. He grabs the towel and saunters over, pulling the fluffy material to envelop you after you step out of the stall onto the little rug. You smile, provocatively skimming your hands to his sides and maneuver him so you can slink up against him in the snug space and get by. Before you are able to strut off, though, he tugs you by the back of the towel so you have to pivot sideways and meet his impish kiss.

"Mmm, stop teasing me—" you begin to purr.

"Look who's talking," he deadpans and gives you a pat on your towel-clad ass.

You snicker and go to the sink as he huffs amusedly and gets in the shower. While your sexy lover bathes, you brush your teeth, using his toothbrush, and let your hair down so you can try to comb it with your fingers.

"I know it's early, but I have to get to a phone," Javi calls out as he washes his hair. "I need to call Trujillo to meet me."

"Okay," you remark and frown at your poofy, undulating-like-crazy hair and give up trying to tame it, since you decided not to use Javi's brush but then realized you couldn't find it anyway. You finish dabbing the towel to dry your thighs, snapping it and trying to fluff it in the air before hanging it up on the rack for him. "Do you have something I can wear over my dress? I don't want to walk around with my cleavage out—"

"Why not? It's fantastic," he offers charmingly, and you snicker.

"So that's a no?" you sigh wryly and watch him through the glass, loving how ridiculous he looks in the cramped stall you were able to easily maneuver in.

"I'll find something," he muses and shuts the water off. "Be a dear and pass me the towel?" Javi puckishly purrs as he opens the door and reaches his hand out while he scrubs some rogue droplets out of his hair.

He feels the somewhat damp material brush his hand, but when he goes to grab it, you tug it away. He grunts and keeps trying to reach for it, but you keep yanking it away every time he gets close to taking it, forcing him to huff and wring the water off his face before he pushes the door wider and glowers comically at you, only to see you holding it taut for him. When he steps out of the stall, you flop it over his head and affectionately dry his hair before working the towel judiciously down his body.

As you get to his waist, he herds you close and captures your lips in a teasing kiss. You take the opportunity to deviously wrap the towel around his hips and pinch his ass. Javi hums, and you raise a challenging brow and smirk at him, so he snickers, "Fine…I'll get another towel," before turning you around and guiding you out of the narrow bathroom and back to the main room.

The space feels less stuffy now that a nice breeze has been filtering in from the curtain-covered window, and you take the chance to sit on the bed and enjoy the cool air while Javi goes to the armoire and starts rifling through his things. Going into his duffle, he finds a soft t-shirt and tosses it at you after he grabs a change of clothes for himself. "That's probably the best I can do, preciosa," he muses and smirks when you hold up the gray shirt with Texas A&I University written in faded bold lettering and his alma mater's logo below it. As you're inspecting the well-worn shirt, he tosses his clothes onto the bed next to you and goes to collect your discarded dress and panties from the floor.

You can't help the impulse, so you raise the shirt to your nose and inhale his comforting scent. "It'll do," you chime, glancing over and catching him admiring your panties. Laughing, you quip, "Hey, give me those!" and reach over to try and snatch them out of his hand.

He pulls them away with an agility you don't expect and scoff, sneering when he smirks mischievously before he brings them up to his face and inhales their scent. "Fuck…let me keep them?"

"NO! I need to wear them home, you fresco," you exclaim and flop his shirt to cover your modesty as you hold your hand out imploringly while you imperiously stare him down. "You never did return my other pair—"

"I need a pair for here and my place," he states completely shamelessly, tone honeyed, as he lobbies, "You didn't wear a bra, so why do you have to wear panties?"

You are blushing at his raunchy reasoning. "That is so gross—" you deride and shake your head at him as you hop up and try to take them from him, but he literally holds them over his head and out of your reach. "Ay Dios mío, you freaking beyako—"

"Fine, I'll give 'em back if you let me do one thing," he negotiates, voice dipping an octave and getting you to falter in your peeved silliness to stare up at him and grunting for him to go on. "Let me go down on you—"

"Javi!" you gasp and swat his arm to try and anchor it down so you can reach his hand. "I just got nice and clean—"

"And I'll keep you nice and clean," he rumbles and hooks his arm around your waist so you have to press flush up against him, still naked with only the towel around his hips as the barrier. "I'd rather bend you over and fuck you on the bed, but the compromise is to bury my tongue inside you," he murmurs heatedly against your lips before he steals your breath with a wanton kiss.

You are buzzing, core tingling and clit thrumming at the prospect. Breaking the kiss, though, you shoot him a defiant look and purse your lips. "Panties…now," you order and hold your hand out.

Javier scoffs and deposits the garment in your hand, brown eyes trying to guilt you when you surprise him by grabbing the towel wrapped around his waist and tugging to guide him back to the bed, where you maneuver to push him to sit on the edge of the mattress after you yank the towel away and toss it. Setting your clothes aside with his at the foot of the bed, you surprise him yet again by getting on your knees and seating your hands on his splayed thighs. "Querida—"

"For being such a fucking malcriado, you're going to let me suck you off, and you cannot get me dirty," you seductively command and toss your hair behind your shoulders as you squeeze his thighs and feel his muscles flex while his chest heaves from a charged intake of excited breath. "Understood?"

"…I c-can't make any promises," his cock is throbbing as you sit back on your shins and give him a reproachful pout, but the seriousness of your glare is softened by your nude and enticing pose. "Fuck, c'mon, baby—"

"You can only spill your cum in my mouth," you levy, emphasizing the rule by laving your lips before you open your mouth and present your tongue to him.

Javier feels like he's going to combust with depraved, debauched arousal, cock rock-hard now at your sinfully divine display. His breathing is shallow from the incandescent thrill zinging through him as he bites his lip to stifle his groan. Taking himself in his hand, he strokes himself a few times before pressing this thumb into the base of his cock to angle it to drag the underside of his throbbing length along your tongue. You hum and mouth his frenulum, loving how you feel his pulse pick up as you lick him and let him guide the head of his cock into your mouth.

He exhales a stuttered breath when you purse your lips around him and pillow your tongue under his blunt tip before you start to suckle on it with luscious care, humming around it and squeezing his thighs. Javier fists his hands in the rumpled sheets, trying to control the impulse to fuck your mouth or grab you by the hair.

"Oh god—" he hitches gutturally as he tilts his head back and moans when you take more of him in your mouth and hollow out your cheeks around him.

You love how wound up he's getting at trying to keep his control while still basking in the delicious ruin you're wreaking his senses into by going down on him with gusto. Your clit is throbbing and your thighs are dying to press together for the needed friction, but you concentrate on driving Javier over the edge as you relax your jaw and swallow. The head of his cock twitches at the back of your throat from your wet and pillowed flesh pulsing against it from your moan.

"Ah—f-fuck, cariño," Javier begins to warn, setting his jaw as he pants heatedly and starts to tremble. You keep sucking, humming lusciously around him and relishing how his hips are twitching from the effort of not thrusting to chase the wet heat of your mouth. When you sink more of his cock into your mouth and make a delicious little sound, Javier starts to shake. "S-Shit, I'm gonna come—!" he hitches hoarsely and exhales when you wrap your hands around the base of his cock and stroke as you suck, searing his arousal to snap like a scalding tether that's gone loose to untangle his rapacious climax. His body jerks from the force of the orgasm you coax from him with your mouth, leaving Javi to inarticulately groan, "Oh-fuck-fuck-mmmph—!"

You feel his cock swell in your palms just before his tip twitches against your tongue and spurts hot, salty cum. Unbridled accomplishment fills you as he uses the cup of your mouth to spill his heady climax, and you prolong his bliss by swallowing, and sucking him through his orgasm.

"Holy shit, oh f-fuck," he stammers gruffly, voice thick as he recovers while you keep him in your mouth. You keep sucking on him until he fidgets from hypersensitivity. Sure he's totally spent, you let his cock slip wetly out of your mouth, albeit only slick with your saliva as you swallow his load and exhale breathily. You overawe Javier when you sit back on your heels, prettily wiping at your mouth chastely and staring beautifully up at him as if you hadn't just gone down on him like a fierce temptress.

Reaching for the discarded towel, you use it to clean him off with tender care. Javier hums in sated bliss and leans back on his elbows when you toss the towel away and kiss his inner thigh affectionately before rising to stand, snatching your panties and pulling them on, and pleasantly loping to the fridge where you retrieve another bottle of Postobón, uncap it and take a long swig before sauntering back over and lounging next to him. You kiss his shoulder and give him a smiley stare as you drink the soda while he still buzzes with alight bliss.

Just when he thinks he can't fall in love with you any deeper, you surprise him by doing something so audacious and stunning that he gets punch-drunk enamored. Needless to say, Javi has a charming, albeit doting look on his face the rest of the time you spend getting dressed before heading out together. It's a beautiful, sunny day, sky blue and clime cool. Once he's locked up, he takes your hand and leads you up the sloping street to the top of the nearest avenue, one you recognize and pause at.

Squeezing his hand, you gesture down a certain route and chime, "We're actually close to Enciso, so if you want, we can head that way to the house and I can give you a ride."

Javier looks so damned handsome, as always, wearing a mint-green short-sleeve button up under a light khaki-colored canvas jacket, trademark jeans and boots. His gun's hidden at the back of his waistband and concealed by the bomber jacket easily, so the only one between the two of you that stands out is you. Your tight purple dress is risqué and short in the day hours, and your block heels are not the best for walking long distances, but you've done worse treks in high heels, so you don't show any discomfort, but you had to fashion his grey t-shirt to better fit you. The extra baggy fabric that hit at your knees is twisted up into a knot at your back, so it looks less like you're wearing your boyfriend's shirt and doing the walk of shame, but not by much.

Eyes crinkling with intrigue, Javi gives you a smug look. "So, you'd take me to meet your grandma?" he poses charismatically, and when you purse your lips to suppress a wily smile, he winks at you. "Sure, let's go—"

"She's likely at misa anyway by now, chavón," you snicker and start tugging him along, leading the way.

Javier smirks and walks with you, and once you traverse the busy avenue and are nearing more familiar streets, you let him drape his arm around your shoulders and cuddle you close. You fall into an easy banter as you walk, every so often pointing something out to him or remarking about a certain shop or spot he should check out as you go. As you both approach the street you're staying at, you tuck your clutch under your arm and grab his hand as you cross over to the corner and get closer. When you see the gate in front of your grandmother's house is open, you slow down and get sheepish, realizing she hasn't left for her morning mass.

Your car is parked at the curb just a dozen paces away from the front gate flanked by lush rose bushes in a variety of hues, so you press your lips together as you deliberate whether you can sneak into the house, grab your real purse with your keys, and abscond before she catches you. After all, you really do not want to do the walk of shame in front of your abuela! Let alone with the tall, sexy and ridiculously debonair man at your side that will make it very clear what you've been up to.

When you get close to the gate, you literally slow down to the point Javi goes from pleasantly surveying the neighborhood to jolting when he walks ahead and you tow him back.

Looking at you quizzically, he watches you get all stoic while your eyes tense, and just when you're about to suggest he wait at your car, he snickers and leans close to purr in your ear, "Why do you look like you're going to get grounded, eh, querida?"

You flatten your lips together and exhale your tension. "Just…wait by the car while I go inside—" you begin to cautiously direct as you let go of his hand and walk to the open gate.

"Is that you arriving, lindita?"

You stiffen with mortification and internally swear as your grandmother appears from around the back of the house with her pruning shears and a few herbs in her hand, her floppy hat shading her from the sun as she peers around the tall frondy tree that's nestled at the back of the house adjacent the little plot of land she uses to grow her garden.

You internally bristle when you feel Javier brush his fingertips into the small of your back, before his soft, teasing, "Lindita, eh?" purrs in a murmur at your ear.

You coil up, but don't flail in embarrassment like you definitely want to. Instead, you wave at your grandmother as you come through the gate. "Morning, 'Buela. I'm just gonna run inside and get my car keys—" you begin to chime in Spanish, rushing and hoping she'll not notice the smug stud standing at the walkway.

"What's the rush?! I'm cooking breakfast, and came to get some culantro for the beans," she remarks in a cheery tone and walks around now to get to her porch, and when she spots Javi, her kind eyes flicker at you and see how flustered you look, so she smiles cheekily. "Ah! You're going to run out without introducing me to your friend? Nope, not happening. You're coming inside," she playfully derides and sets her shears aside on the windowsill before she tucks the herbs into her apron's pouch and dusts her hands off.

Javier absolutely loves how sheepish you're getting and can't help lope over and put his arm around you while you try to stammer a valid excuse. "Good morning, ma'am. It's vey nice to meet you. Javier Peña," he introduces himself smoothly and takes her hand, kissing the back of it while he squeezes your waist affectionately. "But my friends call me Javi."

Your grandmother gives him the same exactingly, albeit playful look you shoot him when you can't help be swayed by his charms but know you shouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Ah, well I'm not a little girl, so Javier is what I'll call you, guapetón. Now come inside! I have food on the stove," she astutely remarks and demands as she opens the screen door and waltzes through without batting an eye.

For his part, Javier is grinning, boyish dimple on full display, completely taken with how your moxie was clearly passed down to you by the spry, robust older woman with the kind eyes and clever smile.

Impishly, you elbow him in the ribs and hiss sarcastically, "I'm going to kill you—"

"You can't kill me. We're going to have breakfast," he blithely purrs and kisses your cheek before he tows you through the open screen door and into your grandmother's cozy abode.

Despite your mortified tension, Javier and your grandmother hit it off. Not that you doubted it, but you were hoping to avoid having to give her details about him and your relationship once she got you alone and could pry. After she set her hat aside, she washed up and went back to the stove while she pleasantly chatted Javi up. While she tends to the stove, she also admonishes you for being so rude and wanting to rush off with him. Glowering, you try not to shrink in your chair while Javier represses a chuckle at your expense and squeezes your knee affectionately under the table.

"Buen provecho," the jovial woman lilts.

His smile wanes when she sets down the first wave of food in front of him, and his eyes widen in shock. "This can't all be for me—"

"What?! That's a trifle. Eat!" she orders with a discordant chuckle, and you smirk as Javi stares down at the bandeja paisa and glances at you in disbelief. "There's coffee on the stove, so heat up the milk for him, lindita," your grandmother directs as she tends to the buñuelos she's frying up.

When she's got her back turned, you stick your tongue out at him and flounce away before he can retaliate, to his amused chagrin.

Once she's served up the next wave of food for you and her to share, she sits and keeps chatting with Javi as you pour the coffees into the frothing milk and spoon some raw sugar in before serving three cups to the table. Javier eats with gusto, but the sheer amount of food she set on his plate is insane, and he can't come close to finishing it, so he croaks to you playfully, "Help me?"

Your plush lips hurt from smiling so much – and other things, but mostly the smiling as you feign annoyance and nudge your chair closer so you can eat from his plate. He's enjoying the way you laugh and ease up around your grandmother, and he can't help the infectious delight zing through him as she teases you and you complain to her to quit it. This? You sidled close to him and happy? The delicious cup of coffee he's sipping and the fantastic meal in his belly? They all have him content and mellow as he converses with your grandmother.

When she idly mentions how you and your cousin got gussied up and ran out last night, you gasp, "Oh! I have to call her. Be right back," and surprise Javi by kissing him on the cheek as you go and shout back, "Do not let her show you anything embarrassing!"

He snorts and shoots a mischievous, coffee-brewed glance at her over the rim of his cup and quirks his brows when she grins like a Cheshire cat.

Once in the living room, you call your cousin's number. She answers and exclaims, "Oh my god! You won't believe what happened after you left—" and begins to fill you in on how a brawl broke out between some guys at the bar in the club, and how her, Miguel and her other friend got out just as plainclothes cops went in. "It was crazy! How did that guy know?! And girl, he is HOT! He scared Miguel though. So what—are you seeing him?! Please tell me you are because I cannot believe I let you go with him like that—"

"I'll tell you later! But did anything happen?! You guys didn't get stopped, right?" you cut in and ask, idly twirling the cord in your finger nervously.

"No, we were fine. We didn't stick around though so not sure if anything went down after that, but I haven't heard anything."

With a sigh of relief, you assure her you'll fill her in later and promise to make it up to her before you hang up and go back to the kitchen.

"Oh, c'mon! I said nothing embarrassing," you whine haughtily when you find your grandmother showing Javi a photo album.

Javier's eyes are twinkling with roguish delight as you reach for the album and he hikes it away. "Now I know why she calls you lindita. Look how cute you were. Pigtails and bangs?" he snickers playfully as he looks at your first grade picture.

"I'm going to get you back," you huff and sit while your grandmother innocently finishes her coffee, "And you are a traitor—"

"You watch yourself, missy. Just because I spoiled you doesn't mean I'll abide you being smart with me," she scolds derisively and brushes her long, graying hair over a shoulder in a snit. "Such a malcriada."

You can see the sheer glee in Javi's expression, and you pout. He's fucking loving this, and for the life of you, you can't seem to bristle in appalled anger like you feel you should. "Please put that away before I get swallowed up by the earth from sheer embarassement, 'Buela?" you chide, and she rolls her eyes and snickers, letting Javi hand the album back before she closes it and goes to return it to it's shelf in her room as she grumbles. Once she's out of earshot, you lean over and tell Javi, "My cousin said there was some kind of brawl, and plainclothes cops went into the club last night when they were leaving. She doesn't know if anything else went down, but if you want to call and check in, you can use the phone in the living room."

Javier absorbs that and sobers, nodding curtly before he leans over and plants a peck on your lips and stands, loping out to the hall and over to the living room. Once alone, you take the opportunity to melt into your chair and cover your mouth to hide the ridiculous infatuated smile that takes over your face. When your abuela comes back in and sees the beaming smile, she softens and starts clearing the table.

"I like him. Your father would hate him—" she quips in her wicked lilt, and you scoff.

"Good. What do I care anyway? Not like they'll ever meet," you huff and help her, carrying the dishes to the sink.

While you and your grandmother muse over things as you clean and store the leftovers for later, Javier is getting the recap of what happened after he'd spirited you away from the club. Once he hears the night had been a bust for sicario hunting, he asks Trujillo to meet him at the road they'd use as a rendezvous point offsite from Carlos Holguín, the police academy and barracks, in 45 minutes. After he hangs up, he spies a few picture frames in a hutch across the wall, so he peers at them. One is a duo frame, with a young teenage woman on the left and a young man on the right. He also notices a photo of a beautiful woman holding a baby, standing next to a steely-eyed man in a U.S. Naval officer's uniform, and he realizes you and the woman have the same eyes and those unmistakable plush lips. Humming, he catalogues that for later rumination and lopes back towards the kitchen.

When he nears the entry to the kitchen, he hears you ask, "Why didn't you go to mass?"

"Well, when you didn't come home, I figured you'd need something hearty for the hangover," your grandmother muses as she dries a pan and adds knowingly with a sly smirk, "And what a hangover you showed up with. From the looks of you, it was a passionate night—"

"'Buela!" you gasp, eyes wide with silly mortification as you flick your wet fingers at her before she laughs and swats you with the towel.

Javier smirks and walks in, making sure his footfalls are loud so you both can think he hadn't heard any of that as you clam up and press your lips together while she turns and smiles brilliantly.

"You two have spoiled me. That was delicious—" Javi begins to announce as he strides in and waltzes over to nudge you with his hip from being at the sink so he can take your place and finish washing the coffee cups and utensils.

"Javi, you're a guest! Go sit—" you start to admonish when your grandmother swats you with the towel again.

"Please tell me she has better manners with you? Has she at least cooked for you?" she pries, and you stare beseechingly at her while Javier smirks behind you and nods.

"She inherited your culinary talents, ma'am," he chimes amiably and loves how you relent and start putting the dried pots and pans away for her.

"What you should really ask him is when he's going to cook for me," you instigate and smirk when Javier rinses his hands clean of soap and turns the sink off before drying them with a kitchen towel.

"Well? She has a point, guapetón," your grandmother snickers and puts her hands in her apron's pouch, leaning her weight onto a hip as if she's waiting for a serious answer.

"I make a mean huevos rancheros. When she comes over to my place, I'll make 'em," he answers simply and smiles, catching your haughty squint.

"Good! Now, you two stop toiling and get out of here. You've entertained me enough," she chuckles and gives you an affectionate squeeze around the shoulders and nudges you forward towards Javi.

You are so besotted with how well that went that as soon as you grab your purse and head out with Javier down the walkway, out of the front gate, and are out of eyesight from your wily grandmother's porch, you grab his hand and tug him to rush to your car. Once you both get in to your little hatchback, you pull him by the front of his shirt to meet your hungry kiss.

After a nice, heated make out session, you push him back and purr, "I am so going to get you back, and you won't know when I'll get my retribution, querido."

Javi adjusts himself in his jeans and huffs at you. "It was totally worth it."

Wryly, you start the car and drive, following his directions as he guides you to the rendezvous point. As you drive, he tells you depending on how things go the next couple of days, he might be back at the capital with Steve to meet with the ambassador and assess next steps in their operation.

"I'll call you, and if I don't, you know you can call me, right?" he insists, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh reassuringly.

You smile, focusing on turning up the road that overlooks most of the city and is a great spot for parking and just gazing down at the parks and neighborhoods that skirt the boundaries of the old police academy. "I don't want to call you on the satellite phone when you're working—"

"If I can't talk, I'll just tell you, cariño," he murmurs, and when you glance over meekly, he presses, "You know you can ask of me what you need, right? This…this isn't something temporary for me."

You are disarmed, and become aflutter by the earnest, resolute look he's giving you as you drive up to the spot he told you to look out for, and when you're about to answer him, you instead furrow your brow as you spot the jeep from last night as you pull up, but the man leaning at the side of it is not the plainclothes officer you saw the night before. "Javi…I think you're in trouble," you muse, and when you park, he glances away from you to see what you're talking about.

"Shit…" he grumbles, seeing that instead of Trujillo, the colonel is waiting, arms crossed over his blue polo shirt and already arching a brow at Javier. Tensely, Javi looks over at you and his expression becomes that flinty regard he's able to switch into after years of training. "…Since I'm going to get chewed out, you might as well come and meet him. He might even keep from berating me if you're standing there," he derides, and when you gape at him, he shrugs.

"…Fine. I'm the reason you got in trouble…" you mutter in a sigh and turn the car off, reaching for your purse and rumbling in an aside, "But colonel or not, he better not get nasty with me—"

"He won't," Javi drawls amusedly and you both exit the car.

As you walk over, Javier can't help reach for your hand and pull you along, earning Carrillo's intrigued quirked expression as you both approach the head of Search Bloc.

"I had to see it to believe it," the colonel muses in Spanish, eyeing you closely before he shoots Javier a sharp glance. "Trujillo told me what went down. You're lucky no targets were in play. Your little stunt would've been something I can't obfuscate with leadership—"

"Morning to you too," Javier deadpans, and crosses his arms while you stand next to him. "Listen, I know, but it isn't what you think—"

"Señorita, this agent has the impression that I give a damn about his reasoning for going into a surveillance zone to pluck you out of it, but I frankly don't care, nor do I see the need for you to be here—" Carrillo begins to calmly condescend, and is surprised when your gaze flares on him.

"We work at the embassy together. He was doing me a courtesy of getting me out of possible harms way, colonel. I would hope you don't reprimand him for something that is standard procedure for embassy officials and personnel," you find yourself curtly cutting in, and Javier has to muffle a grunt of humor as you stare the man down, imperious and haughty in your stance.

Carrillo looks from you, to Javi, and the men share some unspoken communication, as if coming to an understanding about something. Javier then introduces you formally, and you shake the colonel's hand, silently impressing him with the deft, confident squeeze of your handshake. "Very nice to meet you, miss. I apologize for my curtness," Carrillo expresses genuinely, switching to English. However, his serious demeanor never eases as he tells Javier, "When Trujillo reported in, I called Murphy—"

"…Great. And what did you tell him?" Javier mutters and puts his hands on his hips, glancing sidelong at you as you tensely cross your arms now.

"Exactly what Trujillo told me," the other man answers before gesturing with the point of his chin. "Speaking of which, he caught a chopper ride over this morning when I told him you hadn't checked in last night," he muses as you both turn to see another jeep drive up the street, obviously heading towards the three of you.

You have no time to prepare for the seeming confrontation that was brewing when the jeep pulls up behind your hatchback. When a very aggravated and clearly exasperated Murphy storms out of the car and stalks up, he's already furiously barking at Javier, "Goddammit, man! What the hell are you doin' fucking around and going M.I.A. like that—" Pausing and only realizing you're standing next to Javier when he rushes over fumingly, Murphy gives just one snide once over, and adds in a scathing drawl, "You really got one of your working girls chauffeuring you around now too?!"

Javier bristles as he feels you rile next to him, seeing the telltale shift of your shoulders winding back as rage sears up in you. "Who the fuck are you calling a working girl, you stupid-ass hick?!" you verbally slash and Steve literally skids to a halt as you advance on him, blue eyes widening and lips disappearing as he sucks them against his teeth when you tear him asunder with, "Fuck you and the chopper you flew in on, and the next time you have the audacity to come barking over at me like that, I'll slap that goddamned porn 'stash right off your face!"

Carrillo visibly tenses, but not with shock, instead pressing his curled hand to his mouth in obvious attempt to hide his amusement while Javier just grimaces at Steve as he begins to stammer, "I-I-I didn't mean any disrespect, miss—!"

Dismissively, you turn away and level Javi in your furious sights now, and his brows arch helplessly as you sneer, "Even your goddamned partner thinks you're still messing around with your ho-ass bitches, so once again, me haces el favor de irte pal carajo, puto mentiroso!"

With that, you storm off to your car, purse strap and keys in a death grip as you go, and Javier tosses his head back and clenches his jaw, muscles bunching up in reflexive animosity as he wars with his impulses, two of which involve drop kicking Steve and running after your car. However, you're currently peeling out of your spot and speeding away back down the street, so he twists up against the urge to just bellow every expletive he can think of into the sky while Steve grimaces and awkwardly watches you drive off.

"Well then…I think we should head to base," Carrillo announces glibly before slapping his hand consolingly onto Javier's shoulder. "I have to fill you in on a few things, so ride with me."

Javier shoots Steve a murderous glare as he walks around to the passenger side when Carrillo gets in the driver's side.

Once they park at the base, Carrillo hands Javi his satellite phone. "Llámala, huevón," he tells him, giving him a commiserating smirk.

"It's not that easy," Javier grumbles. "She's not that easy."

"The good ones never are," Carrillo muses and exits the car, pausing before shutting the door and walking away to add simply, "But they're always worth it."

Javi is struck by how simply summed up that is for him, and how strongly it resonates with him.

Steve has the good sense not to approach him about the fracas until after they meet with Carrillo in his office. Once he's stalking out to his car, Steve falls into hustling step next to him. "Shit, man, I didn't know—"

"That was deliberate," Javier laconically snipes as he reaches into his jacket for his cigarettes.

Actually frowning, Steve walks with him to his car and exhales dramatically before musing, "I was at least right – about you having a mystery woman. Did you not tell me because she works at the embassy?" Javi levels him with a surprised glance before he lights the cigarette he's perched between his lips. Steve shrugs. After all, he had his whole drive to think about it, and when you were laying into him, he recognized your voice and he pictured you, as you'd normally look at the consulate, which disarmed him even more. He'd not immediately recognized you, never seen you dressed so casually – so skimpily, so he'd just assumed you were one of his informants, a working girl. With the vehemence with which you lashed him, he knew he'd stepped on a landmine – something that was already a point of contention, and how you'd cussed out Javi? Well, Steve's Spanish was for shit, but even he picked up on what you'd wrathfully spat. "How long have you been seeing her?"

Javier takes a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke moodily. Leaning against the side of the jeep, he rubs at his temples. "Since before you got assigned here. Shit…on and off for over a year?" he muses, guarded. "When Ramirez described a woman standing outside of the club, I just knew it was her. It…I couldn't just sit there and not make sure," he explains haltingly, looking off ahead to the fields that skirt the terrain of the grounds.

Steve completely understands. Crossing his arms, he goes to lean back against the car too and exhales. "She's a fucking pistol…and we know she's a crack shot, so you better go beg her forgiveness," he jokes in a gravelly musing, cracking a smirk when Javier snickers and shakes his head. "I won't tell anyone. But shit, most of everyone we work with has the hots for her—"

"Not helping, Steve," Javier scoffs and broods, smoking his cigarette and ignoring the glint of the late afternoon sun catching in his eyes and causing them to flash chestnut when he shoots his partner a glare. "…Who else besides that Samson asshole?"

Steve tries to stifle an ironic grin as he shakes his head and drawls, "Aw, I was just exaggerating—" When Javi grunts and glowers, boring his surly stare into him, he relents, flippantly drawling, "She's a knockout, man. It's only natural that she'd turn heads. I've heard a couple of the fellas at Centra Spike dare each other to ask her out, then that time Mil Group were bustin' balls – but I get the impression no one would be gutsy enough to court her seriously."

Javier finishes his cigarette and drops it to stub it out with the tip of his boot. "I'm not so sure. Regardless, I can't seem to quit fucking shit up with her…" he mutters and diverts his gaze, staring off while he adds, "I'm not good at this shit. Never have been."

"Well, nothing some groveling, and maybe flowers, can't help smoothen over," Steve chortles and elbows Javi while still keeping his arms crossed. "Shit, welcome to the club, bud."

"Let's not get carried away," Javi snipes acerbically, but purses his lips with humor before asking, "Has Connie ever yelled at you like that?"

"Fucking loads of times. Tons," Steve chuckles, smiling and wryly biting his lip while he nods as Javier laughs.

While the DEA agents commiserate, you're still coming down from your wrathful mood, only managing to rein your temper in once you've hung out with your cousin and she can't stop cajoling you for details, raving about how hot Javier is and how she and her friend kept going on and on about it while poor Miguel just kept swearing he was a psycho. She's younger than you – a college student who works two jobs, so the last thing you're gonna do is give her the sordid details, let alone disclose what Javier does and why he was really there. You're able to obfuscate a good amount, and once you do relent and answer aloofly, "—Of course! Like you keep saying, he's hot. And he's amazing in bed," she grins and tells you how you definitely look like you had a wild night getting railed by him.

You toss a pillow at her and scoff, using that as the perfect cue to say goodbye and promise to not wait so long to visit again. Once you're trudging up your grandmother's walkway, you have to steel yourself, expecting a true inquisition now that you'll both be alone. Mercifully, though, she seems surprised to see you back so early, and must sense the shift in your mood, because she just kisses your cheek and asks if you want to help her paint her nails while you watch television. Smiling, you agree, and after you shower and get into a comfy blouse and short set, you help her pick out a polish and sit on the floor to paint her toe nails for her while she relaxes in her recliner. She teases you about your red nail polish being the color of wild women, and when you scoff a silly noise, she finally asks you what you knew she's been dying to find out.

"Does he treat you right?"

Instinctually, you train your expression into a placid smile, but she gives you her no-nonsense-look, so you sigh. "Yes, he does, but…things are very complicated," you muse carefully and concentrate on finishing the second coat on her right hand now.

"You sure it's not just you making it complicated?" she asks you softly, smiling when you pout. "Lindita, you're not a pushover. I helped raise you, so it's only natural you got an attitude and are tough, but you don't always need to keep your guard up. I can tell you have that man run ragged—"

"'Buela, I know I am not easy, but all he's used to is easy, and I…I don't know if I can just be fine with certain things," you cut in and explain emphatically, albeit tentative about how much to say.

Your grandmother sees the sadness crest your eyes, so she tilts your face up by your chin and holds your gaze with her doting stare. "No seas tan controladora, mi niña. Déjalo amarte."

A bit awed, you find yourself fighting to smother the lump that's forming at the back of your throat. She pets your freshly washed hair and kisses your forehead, gesturing for you to go sit at the couch and relax. You do, after you go heat up some of the food from earlier and bring her a plate. You're half dozing on the couch when three knocks rap on the sturdy front door, startling you into stark attention while your grandmother glances up from her newspaper and gives you a look that says, 'Well? You gonna get that?'

Padding on bare feet, you go to the door and open it, surprised to see Javier standing there. He's holding the screen door open with one hand, and holding a dozen red roses in his other hand, eyes soulful and expression etched in hopeful tension.

"Querida…I was hoping we could talk," Javi muses, baritone careful, but brimming with optimism when you haven't slammed the door on him. "I-these are for you," he adds and offers you the bouquet, and when you take it, you feel like your core is liquefying under the onslaught of how overwhelmed you are by the blazing love that ignites in your chest for him.

You hold them up so you can inhale their lovely scent, plush lips pulling into a soft smile, unbidden. "Where the hell did you get these? It's so late—" you begin to snicker when your grandmother adjusts her recliner forward, and you can feel the look she's shooting you. "They're lovely," you amend quickly and buzz with thrill when he smiles at you, molten gaze getting hooded when you cradle the bouquet in one arm and gesture down at yourself as you muse, "Let me put something on?"

"Sure, I'll wait here—" Javi starts remarking.

"Don't keep her out too late this time, mijo!" is your grandmother's lilting shout, as you stiffen and die of internal mortification while Javier grins.

"I won't," he shouts back, and you swat him lightly with the roses before rushing over to your grandmother and cheekily handing her the bouquet, which distracts her into gasping about how pretty they are and hurriedly going to look for a vase to put them in.

You use the distraction to squint impishly at him as you backpedal down the hall and into the room you're staying in. A few minutes later, you're in a rust-colored stretchy mid-sleeved cotton shift dress and closed-toe flats, grabbing up your purse and giving your grandmother a kiss on the cheek as you breeze out the door.

Javier circles his arm around you, and you resist the urge to curl into his side and melt as he murmurs, "I know – I'm not gonna give the neighbors a show, so I wanna take you somewhere we can talk."

"Ok…" is your musing retort, as he ushers you down the walkway and to his car, which is parked on the opposite side of the street and at the corner.

Once you're sitting next to him, he drives you northeast, and as you start to not recognize the neighborhoods or any of the landmarks in the post-dusk twilight, you glance over at him. He looks pensive, like he's thinking about something he's thought over several times now already. When you notice you're driving up a hill and farther away from houses or buildings, you can't help joke, "You're not going to finally dispose of me somewhere in the hills out of frustration, are you?"

"Christ, querida," he scoffs and shakes his head sarcastically at you. "I doubt I'd be able to get away with that. Either you'd kill me, or your abuela would—"

You laugh, brushing your hair back from swaying against your jaw and tucking it behind your ear. Your gaze softens when he huffs and reaches for your hand after you rest it close to the center console. His fingers are warm as they envelop yours.

When he pulls up and onto a desolate spot, maneuvers the jeep at a specific angle and stores his handgun in the glove compartment, he squeezes your shoulder, muses, "Follow me," and exits the car.

Bemused, you do so, and when you walk around to the back of the jeep, Javi is opening the trunk hatch, but you don't even pay it attention when your eyes widen at the view that's before you. You're standing on a flattened out lookout of a colina, and beyond the edge is all of Medellín, in all it's early evening, twinkling glory. The moon is waxy and bright as it shines down from the navy sky dusted with starlight, setting the scenic overlook in gleaming resplendence before you. From this height, you can barely hear the city traffic, muted by the hearty breeze and rustling of the trees and grass around you.

You gasp, bowled over by how beautiful the sight is.

"Hermosa," Javi purrs, pulling your avid gaze back to him. He's sitting at the lip of the trunk, watching you and admiring how beautiful you look under the moonlight. He holds out his hand, beckoning you to come sit, so you take it and find that he's laid out a blanket and there are a couple of cushions for you both to use if you want to recline in the back of the jeep and stare across at the breathtaking view.

You want to ask him so many questions, but when you stare into his eyes, you are lost and longing for him, but that stubborn zeal holds fast against your yearning. "Javi…I—I'm sorry for the way I acted," you find yourself blurting, even surprising yourself, but when he looks shocked and just stares, you forge on more confidently, "For how I've acted. I-I've had no right, being so difficult—"

He loops his arm around your back and exhales a relieved, albeit startled breath. "I wasn't expecting that…now I forgot what I was gonna say," he drawls in a honeyed tone, and you purse your lips and raise your brows. "Wait…I remember," he purrs and leans in close, brushing his nose along yours before murmuring, "I love you. And I'm sorry Steve is a fucking ass. He feels bad."

You laugh, irreverent and silly as you pull him close and brush your lips against his. "I know. He looked so freaked," you snicker and adjust so you can sidle close and rest your head against his shoulder. "I was a bitch, Javi, I'm sorry—"

"No, you weren't," he easily assures, kissing your hairline before nuzzling you.

"Yes, I was. When I thought about it, Steve believed that because of how ridiculous I looked today, and I haven't let you tell him anything so, he would only assume," you remark reasonably and shrug.

"Still. He definitely learned a lesson," Javi chuckles, and you snicker, turning to kiss his neck and sigh. "What he said—I swear I've not been with anyone—"

"I know," you tell him and pull back to cup his cheek and reassure him. "When I see him, I'll apologize. He just…he hit a nerve."

Javier scowls and caresses his hand up your back to cup the nape of your neck and presses his warm fingertips there, kneading affectionately. You relax and lean into him, enjoying how he toys with the back of your hair while you stare out at the view.

"You never got to answer me."

You furrow your brows and adjust so you can sit and turn to face him. "About?" you ask, trying not to fidget under the chilly breeze that barrels down from the cool, lush terrain. He watches you shiver, and realizes it is a bit chilly this far up so he shrugs out of his jacket and pulls it around your shoulders.

You curl into it and feel so comforted by his warmth and scent when he remarks in a musing tone, "This isn't temporary for me, querida. I know it's been…up and down, and I've fucked up before—"

"Javier, I've not been easy to deal with. I know that. It's something I have to fix," you cut in emphatically and take his hand, smiling sheepishly as you add, "I'm sorry if I've run you ragged. I…I feel the same. I just don't know what that means, for us. I've never been good at this…"

Javi softens, feeling ridiculously endeared and relieved that you've given things so much thought, and seemingly ended up on the same page as him. With a smirk, he pulls you close and settles you to sit on his thigh so he can wrap his arms around you.

You melt into him, encircling your arms around his shoulders and adjusting on his thigh so you can straddle it and nuzzle into his neck. "I love you, Javi," you whisper and curl your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, affectionately caressing them to card tenderly into the dense locks.

Exhaling a cleansing breath, Javi nudges his cheek against yours so you can turn you face and meet his kiss. He seats a hand at your back and one at the curve of your hip when you deepen the kiss, lusciously humming into his mouth as your tongues brush and tangle sensuously. You ride up his thigh when you get hot and shrug his jacket off, unseeingly toss it back into the trunk, and Javier groans when you part from his lips to suckle a kiss into the side of his neck. The hand at your hip instinctually starts guiding you as you fidget and realize you're getting tingly and warm, dress hiking up from how you're riding Javier's thigh. Blushing, you hurriedly try and catch your breath as it runs away with your quickening pulse.

"Mmm, Javi—" you begin to hitch when you go to shy away and off his thigh, but he holds you firm and slips his hand up your dress to knead the plump flesh of your ass over your panties.

He can feel how warm you are pressed down on his muscular thigh through his jeans, and his cock is throbbing at how blown out your pupils are and how sultry you look under the moonlight. He can feel you're not wearing a bra, and hums against your jaw when he cups your breast and edges his thumb over the peaked ridge of your nipple through your dress. You whimper and squirm against his thigh when he settles his mouth over your pulse and suckles.

You can feel yourself getting wet, and are embarrassed as your panties get soaked from his seductive hands wreaking delicious havoc over your simmering arousal. "Javi, w-we can't—" you begin to breathily protest when he guides you to rut against his thigh as he kisses wet fire over your jaw and captures your lips, smothering your mewl of pleasure.

"You can, preciosa. C'mon, let me make you feel good," he rumbles between kisses, and you blush, so tantalized as he encourages your thigh riding by pressing his thigh up into your heat. "That's it, querida," he croons against your ear and tugs the neckline of your dress down enough to expose your breast so he can fondle it in his big, warm palm while you grind down on his thigh and sigh at the delicious friction against your clit. "So beautiful. Want to make you feel so fucking good—"

"Javi," you whimper and clutch your hands at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut and panting as you feel yourself start to soak your excitement into his thigh and through his jeans. "Pl-Please—need you to touch me," is your reedy sigh as you feel yourself getting so close to bliss.

Javier easily pivots you in his arms to lie back into the cushions and blanket he laid out in the trunk, swiveling his hand to go from kneading your ass to rucking your panties to the side so he can trail his fingers through your drenched folds before rubbing them against your clit. You arch and gasp, thighs trembling as he strums your pleasure while his mouth brands delicious thrill into your neck whilst he grinds his hard-on against your hip. In a flash of incandescent delight, you're coming, and you cry out, nuzzling his throat to muffle your sounds as he coos, "Yeah, baby, come for me, just like that."

You're burning with euphoria as he passionately kisses you while you come down from your orgasm, leaving you buzzing and alight. When his fingers curve to push into your fluttering pussy, you bite your lip to stifle your eager whimper – cheeks hot as you part your thighs wider so Javier can plunge his digits to the knuckle in you.

A hand fists into the blanket beneath you while your other hand hurriedly skims down his chest to trail down his tense abs, reaching for his belt, but Javi nudges it away. "Let me touch you, cariño," he murmurs against your temple as he curves his fingers into your g-spot, lighting you up with pleasure. Your hand snakes under the arm he's leaning up on so you can grip at the back of his shirt as you gasp and writhe. "Wanna feel you soak my fingers, querida," is his velvety murmur as you arch, rutting against his hand and muffling another sound of tense need.

"Oh god—Javi," you whimper in a reedy pitch, plush lips parted as you try to not lose your breath from panting so hard. "I-I," you begin but bite your lip, shy as you try to hide your needy expression.

"Tell me, baby," he purrs and works his deft fingers in and out of your wet sheath, the loud squelching of his digits plundering your flooding cunt making you feel filled and stretched has you jerking, getting so close to orgasm, when he ruggedly purrs, "You can do it, mi amor. Let me have all of it, come for me—"

You grow taut and wail a startled cry as you come, eyes snapping wide as you are wrung by the force of your orgasm at his sinfully loving praise, apples of your cheeks burning from you blush as your rippling sheath flutters and clamps around his fingers. Javier groans in accomplishment when your slick dampens his hand as he pumps his fingers in and out of your aching pussy, prolonging your bliss. When you start to twitch from overstimulation, Javi eases his fingers out of your drenched heat and hums at how they're dripping with your glistening slick under the moonlight.

He brands his lips into your overheated cheek before purring, "Look so beautiful when you come for me, querida," and when you tiredly smile and flutter your heavy-lidded gaze up at him, you watch him dip his fingers into his mouth and savor you before sucking the digits clean. You shiver and mewl when you curl into him and seek his body heat, hand slinking up his back while the other hooks behind his nape to coax him down to let you nuzzle him. Javi grunts softly and wipes his hand of his spit on the blanket before wrapping it around the small of your back and herding you up against him. "Mmm, such a good girl for letting me have you," he croons thickly against you lips before he kisses you breathless.

Once you feel you can trust the pitch of your voice, you susurrate, "Let me take care of you?"

Javi hums, cock straining with need at your silky petition, but he shakes his head and smiles sweetly. "You've done that already, hermosa," he assures affectionately and brushes a doting kiss into your cheek before nuzzling you and murmuring, "Now relax for me."

You sigh wistfully and close your eyes, getting lost in his aftercare, how he hooks his finger in the crotch of your panties and adjusts it to cover your mound and dewy petals, tugs your dress' skirt down and eases your neckline back into place, all the while, he brushes tender kisses across your cheekbone, your jaw, and lips.

Needless to say, when he drives you back to the house once you've gathered your wits and finished basking in the post-bliss with him cuddled up in the trunk and gazing out at the view, you are glowing, vibrating with resplendent love as you stare alluringly at him. He wouldn't let you slip your hands over him, and you know he's riled up, but when you pouted at him, he just smirked and tapped your ass, telling you he'd be all yours once you're both able to hole up in a nice big bed later in the week. You snickered, and agreed, but as he nears the street, you find yourself pining already.

"I'm going to miss you all over again," you state and avert your gaze when he glances at you, astonished by the admittance. "These last few weeks were…I don't think I can do that ever again."

When you don't look over at him, he reaches his hand to your thigh and rests it close to the edge of the dress' hemline. "I promise it'll be different, mi amor," he insists in a velvety declaration. "I was fucking miserable. Steve can vouch for it," he jokes, and you snicker. "I don't want to be without you."

You rest your hand over his and squeeze after he tells you that, and you get the courage to gaze over at him as he pulls up to the curb close to your grandmother's house. "Then don't be," you tease and lean over to kiss him. Javi hums, fingertips caressing the curve of your jaw as you part. "I love you."

"I love you too," he rumbles and smiles before playfully tapping his curled forefinger under your chin as he drawls, "Now go before you get me in trouble with your abuela."

You grin and exit the car, closing the door and walking around to the sidewalk in front of your grandmother's house when you pause, getting an idea, and turn on your heel to march up to the driver's side. Confused, Javi rolls the window down to ask if you forgot something, and is floored when you adjust your purse strap high on your shoulder after you glance around to make sure no one is looking so you can shimmy your hands covertly up your dress' skirt, and seamlessly, pluck your panties down and off before offering them to him.

"Goodnight, mi amor," you chime and lean in to peck him on his awed lips before smiling and strutting off.

Javi watches you go like a man who just saw heaven, and when you're at the porch and you shoot him a wink, he presses his lips together and wets them before flashing you a dashing smirk. Once you're inside and the porch light shuts off, Javier drives away, stupid grin plastered over his handsome features while he toys with the delicate fabric before raising the flimsy garment to his nose so he can inhale your addictive, enchanting perfume. Heat instantly shoots down his body to coil in his loins, and for once, Javi is looking forward to going back to the crash house now that he has such a sinfully delicious prize that'll help him take the edge off of his arousal for you.

As you nestle under the sheets, you lie in enamored glee until your exhaustion wins out and weighs you down into a blissful night sleep.

Your thoughts are settled, doubts and insecurities quelled as your sated soul delights in being Javier Peña's one and only.

Nothing can change that now, right?

___________________

Read Chapter 10: Peach

Spanish-English Glossary:

Zona Rosa = Pink Zone

Sicarios = Hitmen

Mamacita = sexy lady; foxy woman

Perreo = Dancing doggystyle; grinding/twerking

Boricuas = slang for Puerto Ricans

¡Oye! = Hey!

Callejones = alleyways; side streets

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Putas = Whores; prostitutes; sluts

Pendejo = Dumbass; jackass

Cariño = darling/sweetheart

Con quien perreo no es ningún pretexto para tú controlarme = With whom I grind up on is no pretext for you to control me

Hijueputa = Son of a bitch; sunovabitch

Mi amor = My love

Malcriada/malcriado = brat/spoiled

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Perreando = Doggystyle dancing; grinding up on someone

Celoso = Jealous man

Bravita = Tough girl; feisty girl

Perrear = Doing it doggystyle, aka referring to sex

Mentiroso = Liar (male)

Terca = Stubborn (female)

Postobón = Brand of Colombian soda that's made in Medellín

Eres tan pinche hermosa = You're so fucking beautiful

Canela = Cinnamon

Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy

Ay Dios mío = Oh my god

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Misa = Mass (church)

Chavón = a man that's pestering you

Lindita = little cutie; pretty little girl

'Buela = short for 'abuela', aka grandmother

Guapetón = Super handsome, good-looking guy

Buen provecho = Bon apetit

Buñuelos = Cheesy fritters; doughy puffs

Señorita = little lady; miss

Me haces el favor de irte pal carajo, puto mentiroso = Do me a favor and go fuck yourself/go to hell, you fucking liar

Llámala, huevón = Call her, dummy

Colina = Hill

No seas tan controladora, mi niña. Déjalo amarte = Don't be so controlling, sweetie. Let him love you.

Mijo = short for "mi hijo", a term of endearment akin to "my son/sonny"

Hermosa = beautiful

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#Heat - Narcos fanfic #Javier Peña #Javi Peña #Narcos #Narcos fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #Javi Peña x Latina OFC

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