Queen of the South - My Season 6: Full Circle

Chapter 17, Cuentas Pendientes V

James had taken his cell and had gone to the front room of the suite to research the Jimenez cartel and its boss Alfonso (Affi) Jimenez, El Tiburon (the Shark). He had left Teresa to take a shower and to sleep with no light in the room as he knew lights were not recommended after a possible concussion. He was getting more and more agitated as he read bits and pieces on the history of the Jimenez family for the last ten years and couldn't shake the feeling that El Tiburon was crazier than Boaz Jimenez had been. However, one thing bothered him specifically: the CIA had tolerated this pendejo for years despite him being supplied by the CIA unfriendly Moreno cartel and distributing through the CIA unfriendly Los Conejos gang in the US. There must be more to the game than I am aware, James thought. Now that El Tiburon had decided to make a kidnap attempt on Teresa Mendoza, who had been out of the game for years, and which attempt looked like pure vengeance, James needed full disclosure of the positions of all players before he could determine if their trip to Culiacan had been a mistake and if there was a risk of it resulting in danger. And this meant that he had to talk to Castel Fioto. This thought was not exciting at all.

Teresa had dozed off for a while after the warm relaxing shower, but she had opened her eyes ten minutes ago and now lay in the bed reliving the experience from the day and wondering if the destruction of everything Vargas would be enough to close the book on her previous life, or the Jimenez would also need to considered. Then her thoughts floated to James, who had saved her yet again and she suddenly felt a longing for him.

===

He heard her call him from the bedroom and quickly opened the door, worry all over his face. She was on the bed, covers pulled up to her chin, looking at him in a weird way that made him worry even more.

"Are you okay? Any nausea?" he said in a hurried voice.

She threw the cover over in one brisk movement and in a single step stood a foot in front of him, naked, save a pair of bikinis, her hair loosely falling covering some of her perked breasts. Her hands pulled his face to hers and she said: "You're too dressed for this!" before her mouth was on his and then her hands pulled his t-shirt up and off. He could feel her stiff nipples on his chest but managed to say: "I'm worried about your head...you may have a concussion." He heard her reply when her mouth gave him a breath: "I feel fine...get inside and see for yourself!" He could hear the smile in her voice and quivered slightly but wisely didn't laugh.

His hands got her by the rib cage and moved her back to sit at the end of the bed, then glided up her body to reshape her breasts for a few moments. As her head relaxed back and her breath started coming out faster, his mouth went from her neck to her breasts and belly and then he gently removed the bikinis and spread her legs, pushing her back on the bed and getting his mouth to work her as he knew she loved. She smelled of shower gel and the apprehension that had held him seconds before disappeared as her warm body became pliant and gave in completely to him. In a few moments her whimpers turned to moans, so he lifted himself up to remove his shorts and after coming up on top of her and feeling her wobbling breasts under his chest, slid in her smoothly and locked his eyes with hers. He heard himself whisper: "I'm so at home... when I am in you!" and when he saw the invite in her eyes, he started moving, feeling every tryst get deeper and deeper. Her hands held him tight and then he heard her say: " Despacio, James, mi amor, hazlo despacio (Slow, James, my love...do it slowly)", so he slowed down his own urge until her fire burned for a while and then exploded, him following her right after.

After they had laid in each other's arms for a few minutes, James got up and took his cigarettes from the front room. He had taken smoking rooms in every hotel and although he had never smoked inside, he lit up now and exhaled deeply, casting a look at her: "How's the head?"

She sighed, took his cigarette from his fingers with care to avoid ashing it and took a long drag: "The head's great...you know...any version of me ...older, maternal, drunk, scared...or possibly suffering a concussion ...ahh...still loves it when ...ahh...you align my wheels!", then she handed him the cigarette back, eyeing him seriously, at which point he couldn't hold his laugh and almost ashed the cigarette on the bed.