New York Minute Page 9

  “You need a ride?” Miles picked up his messenger bag and pulled it over his head.

  “Nah. I have a rental.” He opened the entrance door, leading to the streets of Miami Beach.

  The palm trees swayed in the breeze and the sky filled with soft colors. Veronica would like this. He sighed.

  He and Miles half-hugged in the parking lot and patted each other on the back “See you tomorrow around noon to finish up that song, then you have your gig tomorrow night. Give Sofia a kiss for me. Glad she’s feeling better.” He winked and walked away.

  “Sure thing.”

  Diego opened the trunk to pack his instruments and then shut it, resting onto the back, staring at the sunset over the sandy pathway next to him. He had to get his mind on Sofia; he owed her that. His trips to Miami were really about her, and she deserved his full attention.

  Chapter Eleven

  Five days. It’d been five days since she last Skyped with Diego and it felt like an eternity. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, especially after only spending a weekend together, but she’d known the moment she met up with him again at the speed dating event this could evolve into something more than a simple, playful weekend.

  So, she probably should tell him the truth about her career. It was just a little white lie. No biggie. She wanted to be her true self around him.

  But he liked her sexy, and being an accountant was anything but sexy.

  No matter what, her little strategy to enjoy an invigorating life had taken a new turn. Sure, it was exciting … but she was also falling for the guy.

  Damn it to hell. She would never admit that to anyone, especially when she didn’t know what he wanted. She’d thought she was special to him, too, but that was before five days passed without hearing from him. He was supposed to be back already.

  “Want another drink?” A male voice dragged her back to the table with her coworkers.

  “I’m good.” They always went out after work on payday. Paul, the new marketing exec, sat awfully close tonight and kept touching her knee or her shoulder. This time his hand pressed hers, and she pulled it out of his hold. Meanwhile Amanda tapped away at her smartphone, oblivious to Veronica’s predicament.

  When Amanda looked up, she smiled and put her phone back into her purse.

  “What are you mysteriously working on over there?” Veronica scooted away from Paul and turned her back on him.

  Amanda flapped her hand. “It’s a deal I’m trying to close.” She threw back her brown hair and eyed Paul. “So, Paul, how’s it going in marketing?”

  “Shit, Amanda, I don’t want to talk about work.” He slid closer to Veronica. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Amanda snorted and shook her head. Paul jerked his head back as another coworker stood to say good-bye.

  Veronica rolled her eyes and Amanda mouthed “he likes you” in her direction.

  Great.

  Her phone buzzed. Without grace, she rushed to locate her phone in her purse, with all hope it was Diego and not Chloe this time. Chloe was out with Marco again at some club and, even though Veronica refused to go with her this time, Chloe sometimes didn’t take no for an answer.

  But it was him. She smiled.

  PapaGuitarra: I’m home. Are you at work?

  Amanda sent her a questioning stare. “Is it him?”

  Veronica nodded.

  VeronicaBass7: Out with friends. Glad you’re finally home.

  PapaGuitarra: Need to see you. Can we meet?

  She couldn’t pick up and leave … could she? No. She wasn’t at his beck and call. He hadn’t even texted her in five days.

  VeronicaBass7: Can’t. Let’s get together tomorrow.

  PapaGuitarra: Cariño, where are you?

  VeronicaBass7: Cellar Bar & Grill.

  Amanda sipped the last of her martini. “He wants to see you, doesn’t he? Go for it, Vero.”

  “No. I’m not leaving you guys.”

  Amanda shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’m about to leave, actually. I have something else to do at the office.”

  Paul frowned. “You’re going back to work?”

  Veronica set her phone down, because Diego didn’t answer. “She’s a workaholic.”

  “No surprise there. You two are always on your phones. What’s so interesting that you can’t talk to me instead?” Paul reached over, resting his hand on Veronica’s wrist. He couldn’t stop touching her and it was getting annoying.

  To get his hands off her this time, she had to get him away for a moment. “Hey, Paul, actually, I’d like another beer. Can you get me one?”

  He stood up quicker than an Indy car races around the track and pushed his chair back. “Sure. Be right back.”

  Both girls watched him approach the bar and then laughed at the same time.

  “He’s into you. You should give him a chance.” Amanda pulled out her wallet.

  “No way. I told you, Diego and I are an us … maybe.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t see him here. In fact, I’ve never met him. What’s up with that?”

  “He’s a busy guy. But he’s back now. Maybe you can meet him sometime this week.”

  “Or tonight,” a deep voice said beside her.

  Amanda’s eyes bugged out as she stared over Veronica’s shoulder. “Holy—are you Diego?”

  Veronica’s heart stopped for an instant as she surveyed the man behind her. He was a perfect blend of rocker musician and preppy, wearing tight-as-sin dark jeans, a button-up plaid shirt and a leather jacket with the collar pulled up in the back. The tattoos on his wrist displayed designs she’d forgotten, and she hated that.

  For a second she broke into a wide, open smile. Then she stopped because he was there. Didn’t he just text her? “How did you …?”

  He chuckled, low and deep, and sat in Paul’s empty chair. “I went to Macy’s, straight from the airport. No one seemed to find your desk in the buyer’s office, so I texted you from there. Good thing you chose a bar around the corner.”

  Amanda held her chin in her hand. “Buyer’s office?”

  Veronica kicked her under the table.

  “You must be Amanda. We finally meet.” Diego produced his sexy smile and winked at her friend.

  Amanda practically fell over, flustered, then reached for her purse. “I’ll leave you two alone. Most of the gang has left anyway. Y’all have fun now.” Her small, Southern twang returned, and she waved good-bye.

  “You said she was an accountant, right? She looks too hot to be an accountant. Working with numbers all the time must do her good.” Diego scooted his chair closer and placed his arm across her shoulders. “But not as good as studying fashion all day does to you. Damn, it’s good to see you.”

  “Uh, excuse me. You’re in my seat.” Paul cleared his throat and placed two beers on the table.

  Talk about bad timing.

  “Oh, I see, you’re sitting here with this pretty lady?” Diego asked.

  “Yeah, dude. We’re here together, so if you don’t mind.”

  Diego’s grasp on her shoulders tightened and he sent her a direct stare. “I see. You’re on a date. I thought—oh, never mind. Sorry to interrupt.” He emphasized his last word as he stood and knocked the chair into Paul.

  Goose bumps formed up and down her arm. “It’s not—”

  “Later.” He flapped his hand in the air and strode off.

  She had to take twice as many steps as he took to catch up with him. “What the hell, Diego?”

  “I get it. You’re on a date.” His words were like ice—cold and hard.

  “No. Didn’t you see Amanda there? We always celebrate payday together. It wasn’t a date.”

  Diego tossed his head in Paul’s direction. Paul stood at the table staring between them, sipping his beer. “Looks like it is to that fellow.”

  She understood how these circumstances appeared, but he had to listen to her … trust her. First, she had to take care of the fact that he tried to control her
because that would not do. Never. With him or with any man her mom set her up with.

  She grabbed his hand and led him to an isolated hallway, away from Paul’s prying eyes, or anyone else’s, for that matter. “What are you doing here and why are you jealous?”

  “I am not jealous.” Diego crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “You have no right to traipse in here and just”—she swung her arm behind her—“try to take over.”

  He jerked his head in the direction they just came. “Better if it was me than that asshole.”

  “This is my life. I can do what I want with it.” She wasn’t sure exactly what that was, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

  “Of course you can.” He looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. “The truth is … I am jealous, okay? I don’t get jealous … ever.”

  “Jealousy is a good thing. It means you care.”

  “I care, dammit. The first thing I did after landing in New York was seek you out. Isn’t that proof?”

  “Sure. And a little stalker-ish.”

  An impatient grunt exited his sexy lips. “Uh, women. Never satisfied.”

  “Men. Cocky bastards. Thinking I would just drop everything to meet you after not hearing from you for days.” She swished her hair over her shoulder and held her chin up to look him in the eyes.

  Diego took a deep breath and grabbed her arms gently. “Listen to me. The last time we talked our situation was a little shaky. It’s bothered me, and I only wanted to find you so we could talk. If you really want to get back to …” His lips pressed together. “… your guy friend, then go ahead and come by later.”

  “Wouldn’t that make you more jealous?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He held her chin with the pads of his fingertips, rough from playing the guitar. “I’ll tell you why. He was looking at you like you were his dessert tonight.” His eyes roamed her body. “You look goddamned beautiful, in that fancy dress you probably bought from Milan or something.”

  She winced and a soft moan escaped. “Why didn’t you call or text in the last few days?”

  He pressed one hand against the wall and the other stroked down her throat, rubbing in gentle circles. “I couldn’t. I don’t want to get into that. I want to talk. Spend time with you. Kiss you. Smell you.” He pushed his nose into her neck, sniffed, and then kissed her gently. “I missed you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand how you can’t call. It only takes a few seconds.”

  “Are you happy to see me, too, or do you want to argue?”

  Her hands moved to his chest, of their own accord. “You’re so damn smug. Of course I’m happy to see you. You’re all I can freaking think about.” She snapped her lips shut. She was furious. Why did she have to let her true feelings get in the way?

  The logical solution would be to end this now. Stop the mess her heart headed into, before it got in the way of her eventually bowing down to her mother’s wishes. Apparently, her heart was in control tonight. She was so freaking happy to see him, even with him not texting, getting jealous, and commandeering her night. The tribulations real couples faced. “I don’t want to argue.”

  Diego’s head rested against her forehead. “I don’t either.”

  The feel of him against her was more than she could bear. She wanted him, despite her head telling her this was the perfect time to end the charade. She just couldn’t. Not yet. “Was this our first fight?”

  A sweet smile spread on his face and he ran his hand down her hair. “Something like that.”

  She looked around her. Not two steps away was the women’s restroom. “No more fighting.” She grabbed his jacket and pulled him inside without letting go. The stalls were empty. Not a person nor a sound.

  She swung him into one of the two stalls and slammed the door behind them.

  With a dark, stormy look in his eyes, Diego’s hands rubbed below her skirt hem, feeling her skin. A deep moan sounded around her.

  She couldn’t say anything either. She only wanted to feel him—for him to feel her. To be together in the way they started. Sensual. Erotic. Needing. Wanting. The desire welled from her head to her womanhood screaming and pulsing for Diego’s touch.

  She moved his hand around to her front, across her skirt, in the place that was loudest in her ears. Her beating heart echoed, along with Diego’s deep breathing. They hadn’t really touched each other, but the anticipation was too much.

  “You sure you want to do this here?” he whispered into her ear, sucking on her earlobe.

  “More than anything.” Her leg rounded his, pulling him closer to her.

  In a rush, his hands pulled her skirt higher around her waist and his fingers graced the lacy top of her underwear. “Madre de Dios, I’ve missed you.”

  “Pull it off, Diego. I need you now.” Her hands fumbled down his chest to his jeans, unbuttoning the five buttons that carried on forever. The hardness rubbing against her wrist made her pant his name.

  “Jesus—” He ground against her hand as his fingers reached deeper into her underwear. He touched her clit and she brought her other leg around him, so that he held her up against the stall wall with his body.

  After a few long seconds, she couldn’t take the waiting anymore and put her legs down. She tugged his pants lower, enough to pull him out of confinement, releasing his hard cock, so big, and for her, which made her wetter with desire.

  “You have protection?”

  Between deep breaths and pulling her panties down, he mumbled. “My pocket.”

  “Pocket?”

  “Wallet. Whatever the fuck—let me get it.” His hands fumbled to his jeans, and she dropped her panties on the cool tile while he put on the condom.

  “Take me, Diego. Now.”

  He gave a loud groan as he entered her. The wall of the restroom stall squeaked behind them and Veronica didn’t care. If they tore the wall down, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was feeling him inside her at that moment, deep inside her, hard and right and only for her. Diego was hers. She was his. No doubt about it.

  Fucking her sex god in the restroom at a public bar. She would’ve never believed it in a million years. Yet, she’d do it in any restroom, in any hallway, on any floor—public or private—to feel like this again. Diego woke her from the lazy world where she’d been existing. She was alive. This was what life should be.

  Awake. Alert. Amazing.

  Diego pumped into her, faster, his breath hitching in her ear as he got closer. She was right there with him. Only a few more thrusts and she’d be driving it home with him. Right there with him. So right.

  He looked into her eyes, dark and dreamy, and he closed his with his last thrust. She came along with him.

  His hands shook as he raised them to tidy her bangs. He smirked and caressed her cheek. “See what you do to me. You drive me wild.”

  “I like wild Diego.” She grabbed his butt and squeezed.

  Two women, from the sounds of the voices, came into the restroom and stopped in front of the mirror. Veronica squeaked, but Diego held his finger to his lips. She turned her head to peek out of the stall, between the door hinges. Yep, two women putting on makeup.

  He crouched down to pick up her thong and handed it to her. Gross! She grimaced and shook her head. Diego laughed and pulled up his jeans, then placed the panties in the front pocket of his jacket. He reached over and glided her skirt back to its proper place, then he buttoned his pants, those five damn buttons covering his hard flesh.

  She held up her hands and pointed at him, mouthing “No underwear?” Her nipples hardened again.

  He winked, a twinkle in his eye, and mouthed back, “You either.”

  “Did you hear something? Someone in there?”

  “There’s two sets of feet in there.” One woman screeched. “Ew. What are you doing?”

  No longer able to hold it in, she and Diego laughed. Then Diego opened the stall, pulling her hand, squeezing her past the door that pushed them into the tiny sp
ace. “Good evening, ladies.”

  “Oh!” both ladies gasped as Diego and Veronica tumbled out of the minuscule compartment.

  Diego wagged his fingers and dragged her out of the bathroom.

  “Holy shit. If I had a man like that, I’d be in the stall, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Diego waited on the corner of West 32nd Street and Harold’s Square with a grocer’s bag full of fruits, cheese, and two sandwiches and his guitar case slung across his back. He should’ve called her, but sometimes spontaneity between them was what excited her. The Macy’s sign, designed to look like a shopping bag, graced his vision.

  He walked around the building to Penn Plaza, where the merchandising department was located. At the information desk, he set his bag down on the counter. “Can you please contact Veronica Bass and let her know Diego Diaz is here for her?”

  “Sure, Mr. Diaz. One moment.” The clerk stared at him and looked away quickly when he raised an eyebrow.

  After a moment, the woman asked, “Which department did you say?”

  “She’s a buyer. That’s in merchandising, right?”

  The lady held up a finger. “Just one moment.”

  He shifted his weight on his feet, starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

  “Mr. Diaz, there’s no Veronica Bass in merchandising, but there is a Ms. Bass in accounting. You can find her at the corporate office on W. 34th. Just a block down that way.” She pointed in the direction, as if he didn’t know New York.

  Strange. Why would she be in accounting?

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Diego made his way onto the sidewalk, pulled out his cell phone, and texted Vero as he walked.

  PapaGuitarra: Have time for lunch? I’m outside.

  VeronicaBass7: Right now? You’re here?

  PapaGuitarra: Merchandising on Penn. Making way to W 34.

  VeronicaBass7: I’ll be down in a minute.

  PapaGuitarra: Come down. I’m on W 34 outside of Cinnabon.

  VeronicaBass7: Mmm. Cinnabon. Be there in a sec.