Birdy (Upper Echelon Duet Book 1)

the fact I know she is.
“What do you want me to tell you, Ángel? I don’t know what you want from me…”
“Coño, you’re stubborn as fuck.” He turns me back toward him, fingers digging into my cheeks. “Do you understand English o necesitas que te lo diga en Espanol? It’s you I want, Benni. Solamente tu.” Just you.
“But why?” Latching onto his wrist, I search his eyes for the answer. “Tell me why. Where is this coming from? It’s so sudden.”
“It’s not.” His grip tightens, squishing my lips together with brute force. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. The days go by quick, but the nights? I’ll lay there for hours just thinking about you, tossing and turning because my restless ass wants you right there next to me.”
Does he really, though?
Ripping myself free from his hold, my breaths shallow and uneven, I feel my eyes narrow of their own accord. “So why not say anything? You’ve had countless opportunities, including phone calls and—”
Ángel brings himself so close, words fail me as the tips of our noses touch. “Because that’s not a conversation I wanted to have over the phone. I wanted to be with you when I told you.”
All the things I want to hear, and yet, that doesn’t make them any more true, no matter how fervently they leave his mouth.
“This is crazy,” I breathe.
“Why?” He laughs softly. “And if you say, ‘the rules’ again, que Dios te ampare.” May the Lord be with you. “Think about it… We could be so good together, Benni. So. Fucking. Good. You’ve gotta know I’d take real good care of you, right?”
Oh, I know, I fucking know. Ángel and I are a force on our own, but together? We’d take the world by storm. And as for taking care of me...that’s a given. He does already…technically.
I wouldn’t have half the shit I have or be able to afford what I can if it weren’t for him.
“Take my pants off, Ángel.” Yes, I’m deflecting again, using the only weapon I have on me as a distraction to this maddening turn of events.
Or so I thought.
Lips trailing to my ear, he rolls his hips against me. “Do you need my dick inside you to believe me?”
“No.” I shake my head. “‘Cause I don’t know if I ever will.”
Ángel laughs, the dark sound a promise of my impending fate. “You say that now, but I’m going to drill it into you tonight. I don’t get why you keep underestimating me. Like I said last night, you should know better than that, mami.”
My throat squeezes, barely withholding a swallow. “Can we at least smoke before you fuck me senseless?”
Because that’s exactly what he did last night, and if the determination I feel oozing off of him says anything at all, it’s that tonight will be worse.
In all the best ways possible.
Maybe.
“While I fuck you senseless, yes.” Releasing me, he reaches into his back pocket and produces a freshly rolled blunt. A lighter, too. “Here, spark it.”
He’s on his feet after that, towering over me as he begins undoing his pants. I’m instantly entranced, bringing the blunt to my lips in a rapt state. A flick of the lighter, and I’m watching his little show behind the flame, taking that first, welcoming long pull.
I could get used to this…
A perfect billow of smoke whirls from the cigar’s end, then from my lips as I let my hit—and my thoughts—go. Another quick pull and I’m passing it off, eyes following his pants as they fall to the carpeted floor with a clink from his belt.
Taking our little stress reliever, he motions up and down the length of my body, the slightest tip of his chin. “Your turn. Take it all off.” 
“Same goes for you,” I counter, making it a point to stare at his briefs as I work on the buttons of my uniform blouse. “All of it.”
Ángel glances downward, then back at me, that cocky-ass smirk slithering on his face. Pressing the blunt between his lips, he hooks his thumbs beneath the thick waistband and drops the garment, leaving him deliciously naked. My mouth waters. His body alone is drool-worthy—inked and finely cut in all the right places. But, his dick? That thing is what fantasies are made of: long, hard, and thick.
He’s not even rock hard yet, and it’s past the point of impressive.
“How am I naked already, but you’re not?” Two streams of smoke billow from his nose, interlocking our gazes anew.
Because I was too busy drooling. 
I shrug, stare fixated as ever, and force myself to move. Rising onto my feet, I shrug the cotton material off my shoulders. The fitted black slacks go next, then the bra.
"Almost there, bella. Keep going," he rasps, his voice thick and gravelly.
The way he’s looking at me right now… Jesus Christ. He's fascinated, engrossed in my little striptease, of sorts. The world could end right now, and I suspect he wouldn’t care.
My nipples pebble under his scrutiny, rousing me further into action. I could just drop my panties right there and be done with it—could being the keyword—but suddenly, I feel compelled to drive him crazy.
Crazier than he’s making me.
It’s only fair...
Dropping back onto the bed, I maneuver my way out of the tiny garment and make a show of flicking it onto the ground. My legs, though? I keep them crossed with purpose, the one thing he wants to see hidden from his line of sight.
And as always, he knows exactly what I'm doing, giving me that particular heated look as he ambles closer, taking another hit from the blunt. "Open.”
A demand, one I’d normally respond to in an instant, but I hold my ground, shaking my head coyly as I lean back onto my elbows, my lips curling deviously.
One of his dark brows arches. “Benita…” he warns, his gaze flicking to my legs. “Open. Let me see that pretty little pussy.”
Oh, you’ll see it all right.
Propping my toes onto the edge of the bed,