Strictly Business (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

Chapter 7: Lost in the Moment

I sat in the passenger seat, deliberately keeping my distance from him. My hatred for him still burned within me. He might be kind, but I knew it was all a façade. I knew the real man he was. I glared angrily out the window, raindrops streaming down the glass. My hand supporting my tired face, while Miguel focused on the road. Miguel attempted not to take my anger personally. After all, I had every right to be furious with him. He knew he had a lot of atoning to do for his past actions, and he hoped that with time, he could make amends.

My scraped knees throbbed with pain, and I caressed them in an attempt to alleviate some of the discomfort.

Miguel noticed my gestures and, even without my saying anything, he turned to me. "Are you hurt?" His voice carried genuine worry, soft and sincere."I'm okay... just keep driving," I insisted, not wanting to burden him any further. I just wanted to reach home to be with my daughters.

However, he didn't believe me, pulling the car over to the side of the road. "What are you-" I began to question, but he interrupted me. "Even if you're still angry with me, let me at least patch up your knees. Please. I don't want to see you hurt if I can help it," he implored, giving me an almost pleading look. He genuinely wanted to assist me. Before I could respond, he got out of the car, retrieved a first aid kit from the trunk, and opened the passenger door.

Miguel knelt in front of me, his eyes briefly meeting mine before settling on my knees. I rolled my eyes and extended my legs toward him, realizing he wouldn't take no for an answer. He began applying alcohol to a cotton pad. Miguel pauses for a second, looking up at me. "I'm really sorry," he says softly, his eyes trying to convey his remorse and sincerity. He doesn't want to say too much more than that, letting his actions do the rest.

"No es tu culpa. I shouldn't have gotten in that guy's way. I shouldn't have even gone out with you guys," I say, trying to brush off his apology.

"It's not your fault either," Miguel says with a soft smile. "Solo fue un pinche boracho con sus pendejadas—that's all it was." Miguel sighs and shakes his head. "But, regardless, he shouldn't have picked a fight with you. Because if he picks a fight with you, then he's picking one with me too. And we both saw how that went down."

"Fuck," I hiss in pain as he applies the alcohol to my knees. Instinctively, I gripped his shoulder tightly, and though he flinched at the sudden pressure, he continued to disinfect the wounds. He bandaged my knees, then packed up the first aid kit, reaching over me to throw it in the back seat. Standing up, he rested his arms on the roof of the car, his gaze fixed on my face, now inches apart from his. I felt myself growing flustered.

Feeling his presence so close, I pondered his actions. This man has shown me kindness despite my harsh treatment. He saved me from a drunken attacker, offered me a ride home, and tended to my wounds. If I didn't know him before, I might have fallen for him. A flush warmed my cheeks momentarily before I snapped back to reality. "Does that feel better?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine care. "Yeah," I say with caution.

I let out a sigh, full of frustration and confusion. "Porque tienes ques ser tan... tan cariñoso?"

Miguel chuckled at my outburst, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "No lo puedo evitar, mi vida" he admitted. "It's just who I am. And honestly, I care about you, aunque lo quieras o no." His hand softly grabbing my chin as his face grew closer to mine in a mocking manner. I didn't know how to respond to what he had just said. What I did know is that his face is so close to mine. His face is so close I could almost... "Fuck it." I muttered under my breath.

Before Miguel even had a chance to respond, everything changed. In a split second, I closed the gap between us and kissed him. Surprised, he hesitated for a moment but then surrendered to the intensity of the moment, returning the kiss with equal fervor. I could sense his relief, his hope, and his excitement, as if this single act affirmed that there was still a flicker of emotion between us.

He pulled me closer by my waist, and in that embrace, we both felt an overwhelming heat that surpassed mere desire. It was a moment of vulnerability, a moment of longing. I held the back of his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss, craving the connection we once had. Miguel's hand moved, caressing my thigh with tenderness. Slowly, it traveled higher, and the desire he felt for me resonated in every touch.

Lost in the passion, I surrendered to his lips on my neck, running my hand through his hair, savoring every sensation. His mouth explored my skin, searching for the spot that made me shiver. And when he found it, he gently sucked on my neck, evoking a reaction that traveled down my spine.

I couldn't help but moan, my body craving his touch. Miguel knew I was enjoying this just as much as he was, and he continued to explore, his hand moving up my skirt. His hand tugged on my underwear, making sure to get it out of the way. It was a moment of sheer weakness, of surrendering to the allure of the past.

Without hesitation, he picked me up and guided me to the backseat of the car, our desire propelling us forward. His mouth never left my skin as his hand continued to travel. He put me right on his lap, holding me down by my hips. We were both consumed by the heat building between us, a shared lust that couldn't be ignored.

With a mischievous chuckle, Miguel acknowledged the mutual pleasure we were experiencing. Soon enough he reached for his belt. Unbuckling it with one hand while the other continued to rest on my hip. He put himself right where I needed. My walls enclosed him, feeling that familiar feeling I'd been craving for so long, earning a groan from him. He had also forgotten how good it felt. I couldn't resist grinding against him. His head nuzzled in the crevice of my neck, the vibrations of the noises he tried to hold back ran through it. Our bodies moved in unison, the undeniable chemistry driving us closer and closer.

Miguel's voice whispered softly, filled with passion and care. "Eres tan hermosa, querida. Te he extrañado..." His words sent waves of pleasure through me, mingled with a bittersweet yearning that lingered beneath the surface.

The moment became more intense, and as we reached the edge together, moans and shared release filled the car. We both caught our breath, savoring the aftermath of our connection.

Miguel sighed, his voice tinged with affection and satisfaction. "That felt... amazing. Tu eres una maravilla."

But as the realization of what had transpired settled in, a wave of regret washed over me. I quickly collected myself and made it clear that this was a mistake. "No, wait. What did I just do? I-I'm sorry, Miguel. This shouldn't have happened." I fixed my appearance and returned to the passenger seat, my heart heavy with betrayal. "Please just take me home."

Miguel watched me retreat into my distant and cold shell, feeling the weight of his own mistakes. He understood the truth behind my words, that this encounter couldn't change our troubled past. He sighed, unable to find the right words to express his sadnesswsadness.

"I want you to know..." Miguel started to say, but the words fell flat. He realized he had no excuse for his actions, no words to offer. "Please, don't say anything. Just drive me home." I say, trying to hold back tears. He simply nodded, accepting my request, and began driving silently toward my house.

We arrived at my house, and without uttering a single word, I hastily left the car. The pain became unbearable, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I sought refugee within the walls of my home, collapsing on the floor, overwhelmed by sorrow.

Exhausted by the weight of my emotions, I eventually succumbed to sleep.

Miguel remained in his car for a few moments, contemplating the profound impact of the evening. He knew that respecting my wishes and giving me space was the right thing to do, even though it pained him deeply. With a heavy heart, he drove back to his apartment, his mind filled with the fragments of shattered moments and a sense of profound loss.

In the quietness of his small apartment, Miguel tried to process the whirlwind of emotions and the consequences of his actions. So much had happened in those fleeting hours, and he knew he had to come to terms with the mistakes he had made.

Sighing, he entered his apartment, alone with his thoughts, unsure of how to mend what was broken. The weight of guilt and regret bore down on him as he contemplated the path forward, longing for a chance to heal the wounds of the past.