Salvador

Chapter 8

Mona

It's five minutes to eight. I'm sitting anxiously on the sofa, flicking through my phone and tapping my foot. He'll text me any second to come down.

I started getting ready like four hours ago. So I look hot.

I'm wearing a black satin mini dress, with a loose yet shapely, backless fit. My legs are clean shaven elongated by the black heels. I'm wearing various gold, simple jewellery to compliment. I have my hair down, it's still too short to do anything special with it. But I straightened it slightly. And my face is coated with light, dewy, enhancing makeup.

I have a feeling, Salvador is taking me somewhere classy as fuck.

My phone buzzes in my hands and my heart beats faster. Why am I so nervous.

"Come down."

The glowing of my phone reflects on my prettied face in my darkened apartment. I grab my purse and place my phone in there with my money, keys etc. I go in the elevator. Trying to keep my breathing at a normal pace.

"You look fucking amazing." I whisper while looking at my nervous self in the elevator mirror. Giving myself the much needed confidence boost. I take one more breath and just as the elevator doors open, the confident, mafia girl demeanour, comes over me. "Don't forget who you are because of this man" i mutter, walking out.

I step out of the building, where Salvador is leaning on his car.

"Bonita," he echoes deeply as he stands up properly and takes my hand, twirling me around "Sua beleza é incomparável [your beauty is unmatched]."

I smirk, showing off my slight dimple. He lifts my hand to his lips and places a kiss.

He opens the car door for me and I sit down as elegantly as I can.

He gets in and i look at him for a moment as he starts the car. He looks so fucking sexy. He's wearing an all black button-down suit, an expensive watch and expensive rings. And I think he got a haircut. The thought that he did that for me makes me smile. He notices.

With one hand gripped on the steering wheel, and one cupping his defined jaw, he looks at me for longer that he should.

"Watch the fucking road!" I chuckle, my accent escaping more than usual. He lets out a gorgeous smile and looks forward, adjusting his hands.

"You're just so fucking hot," he whispers while gravitating his right hand towards my exposed thigh. Trailing his fingers along the smooth skin. He rests his hand there after I don't object, gripping the steering wheel, and gripping my thigh and driving fast. The touch of his muscular hand that close to my... — might make me burst.

"I wish there was a way," he suddenly speaks, still gripping onto me "for me to stare at you and not have a car crash. It's a crime not to stare at a woman like you." He says deeply, his accent swirls in my head. He's giving me butterflies and I feel like I'm falling.

"You're good at talking to women, right?" I ask, looking out of the window at the flowing vegetated hills and the city lights of Rio to the side.

He stops the car suddenly and looks at me, I look back at him questioningly.

"I'm good at talking to one woman." He lets go of my thigh and inches his face closer.

"Who's this mystery woman?" I ask moving towards him too. We look at each other intensely in the dimly lit car.

He grabs my neck with his free hand, swiftly pulling me close to his face. Our lips brush together and he presses his lips against my cheek before whispering in my ear "don't you play stupid with me Bonita." I can feel the warmness of his hand and the coldness of his rings pressing against my neck and the sensation is overwhelming. 

"Certo [okay]," I whisper back and he lets go and continues driving "Senhor."

"Don't call me that."

"Then what can I call you?" I flirt.

"Salvador."

A thought flickers in my mind. I can't call him that right? No don't call him that Mona, he'll destroy your guts. But isn't that what I want?

"Papi?"

His eyes widen, he still faces the road and his breathing hardens. I hear him mutter something under his breath while looking down at his crotch quickly, but I can't quite make it out.

"Papi." I state.

"Save it for after dinner. Please Mona."

"Who says anything will happen after dinner?"

He glares at me in reply. In real anger.

"I'm not that fucking easy," I whisper slightly irritated, looking out of the window in a childish strop.

He looks over at me again but smiles in amusement.