Chupacabra | 18+ | ✔️

▪︎■ 42 ■▪︎

▪︎■ Ainara Moreno ■▪︎

A big smile was prominent on my face when he peppered my shoulder and neck in light kisses.

"As much as I hate to disturb our moment, we have to talk about what will follow after we arrive in Russia."

He took a pillow and smacked it right onto my face, his eyes closed while he grumbled in obvious disliking. "Don't do that now, amore... Be a good girl and enjoy the moment, would you?"

With still closed eyes his head returned down to my shoulder where he placed another small kiss. Apologizing for the pillow, I guess.

My heart swelled but what needed to be done, needed to be done.

"They are expecting us, I don't think we have time for that... They know that we're coming."

"So? We still had time to fuck several times, we deserve some sleep. I need my beauty sleep before I'm facing people who want to shoot me."

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "As long as you don't sleep on the battlefield... Come on now, get up, lazybones. Where's the armory? Guns, grenades, knives?"

"You're a cruel women, you know that, si?"

He embraced my whole body with his, his arms holding me in place. To really hold me hostage he had to open his eyes for a moment- lazily, but still, and after he took in my persona, he closed his eyes again with a smile. But before he did that, he couldn't resist to mumble something with that raspy morning voice which made his words sound even sweeter. "So beautiful..."

I was about to grumble and bitch about the fact I couldn't move, but he managed to make me forget about that for a moment when he complimented me.

Those damn Casanova genes.

"What are you doing, Adrin?"

"Keeping you from running around, ending my peace. There we are, finally finding each other and the first thing you want in the middle of the night is a gun."

"Middle of the night... Santa madre," I murmured, repeating his words so that he couldn't understand, "It's eight a.m.," I empathized for him to understand. I really wasn't a morning person either but I slept extraordinary well that night and I craved a coffee to lift my mood.

"Exactly," he answered, still unbothered.

"Adrin, amor!" I exclaimed, whining, frustrated because he just wouldn't let me go.

Finally his eyes opened and found mine. I knew what I did by calling him 'amor' and I was glad to notice it seemed to have the same effect on him when I talked in my native tongue, like it had on me when he said something in italian.

Then he grinned. "Saying this only makes me want to make you stay longer."

I groaned when I realised my effort did nothing.

"Adrin," I warned in my best motherly I'm-counting-to-three-tone.

"Ainara," he answered dryly, saying my name in return.

I shook my head and tried to wiggle out of his grip. When I realised he was unfortunately a little, a tiny bit stronger than me, I chose violence. I gave him a nipple twister.
No mercy.

"Ow! You little vixen!"

I knew it would hurt but he was a big, strong man. He would live through it. Also my breasts were sore from the previous night, so if my nipples had to suffer, in any case, his would have to suffer with me! I don't make the rules. But I kind of do. Anyway...

"Hey!" He exclaimed when I finally made it out of his grip.

"You deserved that," I answered. Not going to lie- I enjoyed my victory, grinning at him.

"Guns are under the bed, grenades inside the first aid kit, the rest is in the luggage rack on the left."

My grin widened. 1-0 for me.

"Thank you, baby."

"Ahuh," he hummed, still sleepy which left me smiling even more. See? It couldn't have hurt that much if he was still able to sleep. I had to force myself to leave him- looking all peaceful and sleepy and sexy and cute...

I shook my head to make me focus again. Then I looked down to what I was wearing and grinned again at the sight of the white button up that reached down to the middle of my thigh. Although I loved to smell like him, I also noticed the not so subtle nouance of sweat and sex and I surely couldn't think of anything else than how much I wanted to take a shower in that moment. Unfortunately it was a plane where I decided to have a sinful night on, so taking a shower wasn't on the schedule anytime soon...

Maybe I should postpone killing my nemesis and about a hundred russian mobsters until I'm feeling refreshed again. That would be nice.

I chuckled at the thought of making them wait for such an absurd reason but at the moment I was debating whether or not it would be worth it to eventually die while feeling, and probably also smelling, like a skunk that died twice already.

This man had a whole plane to himself, with a kitchen and a damn bedroom but he didn't think of a shower. Even if it's not an ordinary thing to have a shower inside a plane- anyhow, why the hell not?- this billionaire obviously hadn't had the few leftover bucks to invest in my revolutionary idea.
Brilliant. Rich people have never failed to make me question humanity.

I figured the sink would just have to do, and at least there were some towels I could work with.

I closed, then locked the door and looked into the mirror, seeing myself for the first time

"What a damn liar." I said out loud, thinking of the compliment he made me earlier. I looked like said skunk- maybe worse.

The crying from yesterday left it's traces; mascara streaks but, to be fair, also that special glow you get after crying your dark little soul out. So that was nice, I guess.

I started to wash my face and somehow tried to replace a whole ass shower after my face looked presentable again.

When I felt the soreness of my body I couldn't fight the memories of last night and the inevitable, upcoming smile forming on my face.

But reality caught up to me faster than I had liked to. Especially in the morning, without any coffe and without that goddamn shower. I was really keen on that, wasn't I?

Well, shoot me.

My mood hadn't worsened because of Adrin or because my opinion about him had switched up again, it worsened because a rather unpleasant memory erased the good one's for a few minutes. Until I decided to stop my thoughts from their way down that familiar rabbit hole. But one of them stayed, echoing inside my mind for a few moments.

It was my first conversation with Emilio since almost five years now.

It had hit me like a fucking truck and maybe it was the lack of caffeine or- I don't know, that Emilio ruined my life- which lead me to the sweet, sweet idea to do the same to him.

But like, with a literal truck.