slightly mature (wink wink) content ahead

KIMBERLY

ways to be woken up in the morning than a phone call. But, anyone who even dared to call me knew to never do it before I had my morning drink. Groggily, I sat up in bed, glaring at the persistent caller's third call.

Why is she calling me?

"Hello," I answered, the hangover oozing out of my voice.

Jace and I haven't spoken or seen each other since he went down to Brazil with Benicio and Savannah last night. Trying to play the role of a dutiful fiancée, I texted him 'Have a safe flight!' before he left, but the jackass only reacted to the message with a stupid thumbs-up.

I was so close to speeding to the airport to break his phone, but Vivian took my keys the second she saw the murderous glint in my eyes.

In a futile attempt to get away from the devilish trio's—made up of Mom, Effie and Aunt Lucy—calls about the wedding and all the other shit in my life, I was drinking my heart out at another club, feeling worse than death.

Once upon a time, I knew every little thing that would happen at my wedding.

Like the control freak I was, I had every single second planned out to a tee. And, as expected, I made a million mood boards to fully ensure that everyone knew my vision. I even told Mom that a wedding planner was absolutely unnecessary because I only entrusted myself with the task of carrying out my vision.

Well, well, well, how the turntables...

Now, I couldn't care less about the nitty gritty details, which would've once driven me insane. Even Vivi looked at me in complete shock when I told my mom I didn't care if we had laelia orchids or not in the floral arrangements.

Because, once upon a time, I would've cared. I would've cared so much.

And, I most certainly wouldn't spend my time being drunk instead of wedding planning.

"Good," Chantelle replied. "You're up."

Chantelle was—emphasis on the past tense—my manager when I used to model. After the incident of last year and my rough recovery, I decided to quit modeling back in February. It was a tough decision, one that I made merely a week after my twenty-fifth birthday, but a necessary one.

Being a famous model meant always being in the limelight. Always being in the limelight meant having to be a role model for the younger generation.

Mix that with alcohol and drugs... shit doesn't add up.

I didn't deserve to be anyone's inspiration.

Chantelle threw a fit when I told her, only because she's been by my side as my manager for so long, prompting me to jokingly tell her to model. She honestly could. The woman was even taller than me, with stunning dark skin and tight curls.

But my crazy ex-manager flipped me off and started crying about losing her best client.

We still kept in contact, but I haven't heard from her in over a month.

"Sadly. It's seven in the morning. Why are you calling me this early?" I asked, trudging out of bed. My clothes from last night were still tossed haphazardly on the floor, turning my room into an obstacle course for the drunk.

"Hear me out," her voice frantically called out. "Divine Magazine wants you to be the cover for just one more shoot. They just called me twenty minutes ago, and I know it's last minute, but they really want you."

Divine had a special place in my heart. It was one of the first fashion magazines I modeled for when I originally started almost ten years ago. I've been on their cover numerous times, so there's no question as to why they'd want me again.

But I wasn't ready for that.

"Chantelle," I trailed off. "You know I quit."

"Yes. It was one of the biggest setbacks in the modeling industry," Chantelle deadpanned. "But think about it. The shoot's in a few days. It's in Brazil, specifically São Paulo. You love São Paulo. And, it's the perfect way to celebrate this engagement you've told me nothing about."

Shit.

"We wanted to keep everything on the downlow, considering my shitshow of a life. Jace is a really private person," I explained. I loved Chantelle, but that girl was one of the biggest gossip in the industry.

"Fine... As long as you promise me that you'll think about it." There was no point in arguing with her. Anyone who thought I was stubborn should sit in a room with Chanti for two minutes.

"Okay," I caved. "I'll think about it. I'll talk to you later."

I hung up the phone and plopped back down onto my bed. There was no doubt that I missed being in the shooting environment. The bustling atmosphere, the entertaining passive aggressiveness of other models, the beautiful scenery...

I was about to get back up when my phone started ringing again.

This bitch...

"Girl, I need more time than that," I answered, without looking at the caller ID.

"Kimberly," Dad's stern voice answered back. "Do yourself a favor and check the caller ID next time?"

"Oh," I replied. "Hey, Dad."

"Yes, why aren't you in Brazil?" This is an accurate reflection of my phone calls with Dad. I'll say something and he will just keep talking about whatever it is he called about like there's a script.

And, why is everyone so obsessed with me going to Brazil?

"Well," I started in a tone that was sure to bug him. "Apparently, I never boarded a plane that was supposed to take me there. Shocking, right?"

He muttered some curse words under his breath. "I called the jet for you. You're leaving in three hours. Since you couldn't manage to stay out of a club last night, I'm sending the driver to pick you up in two hours and thirty minutes. Don't be late."

With that, he ended the phone call.

I guess I'm going to Brazil, after all.

♕♕♕

There should be a limit to how much torture a woman can endure.

Dad practically left me to dust with only a flight to São Paulo and nothing more. He was so lucky I've been here before and could speak a decent amount of Brazilian Portuguese or I would've ended up dead in a ditch twenty minutes ago.

In the two and a half hours I had to pack, I called Chanti back to tell her that I'd do the shoot after all, texted the 'family' group chat—it consisted of me, Ash, Audrey, Addison, Gigi, Ana, and Vivi—so they wouldn't be confused as to why I was randomly in Brazil, and got the hotel information from Savannah.

For the sake of messing with Jace's brain, I asked her to keep my arrival a secret, which she happily accepted while arranging for a company car to pick me up from the airport.

Why couldn't I marry her instead?

Sadly, the hotel was fully booked, and I was in no mood to use money to make their lives more difficult. So, I was hoping that my dear fiancé wouldn't kick me out when I showed up to his room unannounced.

Savannah already texted me his room number and called the concierge to let them know I wasn't on my way to kill Jace.

Not on purpose, at least.

So, with my surplus of bags that the flustered bellhop helped me carry up before asking for a picture, I knocked on Jace's door. It was about half past eleven at night in São Paulo, which means I wasn't being too much of a disturbance.

The sound of the door clicking open brought me out of my reverie.

"What the fuck?" Jace deadpanned.

"Surprise," I trailed off, taking in the sight of him in loungewear.

Now, there was no doubt that I had a weakness for men in formal attire. For most of my life, it was what I was used to seeing, so it was easy to find the beauty and sexiness in it all. But, this man could wear a trashbag and have me drooling.

The simple black shirt hugged his muscles in a way that had me undoubtedly jealous. Those gray sweatpants are a whole other story. Whoever invented gray sweatpants knew what they were doing, and I didn't know whether I wanted to applaud them for that or slap them.

The chain he normally kept hidden was on display, showcasing a ring attached to the end of it.

All in all, I was two seconds away from jumping him and relieving myself of the pure, unadulterated sexual frustration he brought out of me.

I really fucked myself over.

"I'm so confused," he replied, shaking his head as if I would magically disappear.

I smirked. "Aww, Jace. Do you secretly have dreams about me?"

"The appropriate term is 'nightmare'," he retorted. "What are you doing here?"

Deep down, I knew I was being obnoxious, but I loved riling him up. So, with great effort, I bumped him aside with my hip and entered his hotel suite. "Would you be a doll and grab those for me?"

I didn't need to look back to feel him rolling his eyes at me, but the sound of rolling wheels let me know he didn't leave my clothes up for grabs by other tourists.

"Answer the question."

"I thought I'd grace you with my presence," I snarked. "I've been told that a regular dose of me is quite healthy. Do you feel better yet?" The glare he set in my direction—along with those crossed arms—told me everything I needed to know. "Fine, Dad told me to come down and I have a photoshoot in two days."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Don't ask me to explain the complexities of Dad's brain," I responded. "But, if I had to guess, publicity shit. You know... look the part of a happy couple."

"Okay." He nodded. "But why's all your shit here?"

I dramatically gasped. "First of all, it's designer. Second of all, Dad only arranged for a flight and the rest of the rooms at the hotel were booked. Since, it's too late for them to make any accommodations. I figured you wouldn't mind sharing a suite with your lovely fiancé."

"Well, genius, there's only one room."

Shit. What in the trashy romance novel is this?

"I'll take the couch," I offered. Did I want to? Absolutely not. But I got my fix of messing with him, so it's the least I could do.

"No," he snapped. "Take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "You're like six-five, dummy, and you've got all"—I used my hands to indicate the sheer size of his muscles—"that. I'll be fine on the couch."

"Don't argue with me, Venus."

I was about to do just that when he made his way over. In the blink of an eye, I was tossed up over his shoulder and carried towards the bedroom.

Holy fucking moly.

The impression of his forearm against the back of my knees sent tingles in places I didn't need tingles to be.

I so badly needed to be fucked.

The slightest touch from him had my panties unbearably wet.

Stunned, I was tossed on the bed with the simple command to stay put.

I was still blinking the shock away when I realized he brought in all my suitcases into the room. Internally, I was conflicted between a side that wanted to show him how much I appreciated this and a side that wanted to strangle him for treating me like a rag doll.

But did I really mind?

Given how I didn't move a single inch as he left the room, I guess not.

♕♕♕

Oh my shit...

Strong arms pulled my legs up to rest against broad, supple shoulders. My breath hitched as warm, wet kisses were trailed down my leg, worshiping every inch of tan skin.

He couldn't get enough of me, hooking my legs around his waist while he leaned his body weight on top of my core, putting pressure in all the right places. The soft moan that left me was inevitable, if anything, it was expected.

Even if I didn't want to admit it, I knew who was on top of me. I've spent the last couple of weeks practically dependent on a vibrator to release the heady sense of arousal coursing through my nerves.

The man's thick fingers lined themself at my entrance, pushing in with the most satisfying pace as his lips came down to my neck, claiming me for himself.

"Please," I moaned, clenching myself around his two fingers. I don't know what I needed more of. I just knew I needed everything.

His free hand came up around my throat, squeezing with enough pressure to make it barely hurt. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"More," I breathed. "Harder. Just give me..."

My words were cut off by the removal of his fingers followed by a deep thrust of his large cock. The sharp scream I let out was purely animalistic.

Filled with a pleasure I haven't felt in ages.

"Does that feel good, Venus?" his husky voice asked, indicating his reciprocated pleasure. I nodded hastily, unable to form words. "Use your words," he commanded, wrapping his hand tighter.

My back arched up, ridden on the waves of pleasure. "Yes... Fuck, Jace that feels so good."

Without another word, he pushed my legs apart further. The stream of moonlight coming in from the window gave us a clear sight of his cock thrusting into my pussy over and over and over again.

In a matter of seconds, I was on the brink of collapsing from the intensity. The buildup was killing me, leaving me a complete and utter fool for the wave of ecstasy that was about to overcome me.

I was seconds away from climaxing. I could feel it from the way I was clenching around his dick.

Almost there...

My phone rang, jolting me awake.

Holy shit.

I sat up in bed, gasping for the remnants of breath in the empty room. I reached over, grabbing my phone off the charger, not shocked but still not happy about the caller.

"Mom," I answered breathily. This sounds way too suggestive.

"Nena, are you safe? You didn't call me," Mom questioned, panicky.

I rubbed a hand down my face. I should be mad at her for literally cockblocking my dream, but I had so much pent up arousal... It was debilitating. "Sorry, I had a lot on my mind. But everything's all good."

She hummed. "Are you sure you're okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

I couldn't help the chortle that escaped.

"Something like that."

♕♕♕

How does one face someone that they had an erotic dream about while sleeping less than twenty feet away from them?

These were the types of questions that I needed answers too but would sadly never find answers too.

My initial reaction was to do it the classic way—evade at all costs—but that proved to be difficult given how we were going to the company's headquarters to sign the final acquisition papers. But, I tested the waters with a long, cold shower.

I stared in the bedroom mirror, pepping myself up to step outside. It's not like he knew, but I knew.

God, this was annoying.

I was dressed in semi-business casual, with my white linen button-down tucked into fitted tan dress pants and white Louboutins.

But, for the first time in a while, I left my hair in its natural wavy state, clipped back with the shorter pieces out. I opted for less makeup—only sticking to the basics—so I wouldn't melt in this heat.

Hesitantly, I approached the door, the fierce roar of my heart pounding in my ears.

It wasn't like this was my first wet dream about him. But I'd normally have time to recover. Hell, I'd normally even fucking finish. Now, I was forced to walk in front of him, acting as if nothing happened. Acting as if I wasn't still thinking about how good it would feel to have him come apart inside of me.

With a deep breath, I opened the door.

Thank the heavens.

I didn't see him as I tiptoed past the wall-to-ceiling windows showing the beauty of São Paulo. I had just reached the coffee machine, internally cheering at my evasion skills.

"How'd you sleep?" His deep voice suddenly called out, causing me to jolt in surprise and spill hot coffee onto the table.

Straightening myself out, I prepared a cheery smile, wiping the mess. "Just peachy."

For the sake of not being a little bitch, I spun on my heels, my bright smile dropping the slightest millimeter at the sight of him. Why the fuck was he so fucking sexy? It's like he knew that seeing him in black was my kryptonite.

Even worse, his light gray dress pants were really doing the most for his... manhood.

I mentally chastised myself for looking, the dampness of my panties causing me unnecessary distress.

"Really?" The tiniest smirk crossed his face as he got closer to me, caging me in like I was his next meal.

Sounds good to me.

Oh, shut up, horny bitch!

"Yep."

"Then, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"A little deranged... tired..." He came closer to me, his breath a hair away from my ear. "Like you had a wet dream about me."

I stiffened.

I wonder if my heels are strong enough to break through the windows.

"As if," I snarkily replied with a futile attempt to relax my body.

"I heard you moaning, my dear fiancée." He stretched out the last word, taunting me like a little kid.

Feigning indifference, I looked up to meet his eyes with a lazy smirk of my own. "You wish it was about you, jackass." I brought my fingers up to the exposed part of his chest, tracing alongside his chain. "No one would blame you for being unable to resist me, Jace. Many tried... all have failed. If you beg, I might give in."

My coy smile fell when he tugged my hand off his chest and turned my arm so my back was pressed intimately against his front. He kept his iron grip on my wrist, pressing against me further to bring his lips closer to my ear.

In this position, I could feel every part of him. And I meant every part.

"Believe me, Kimberly Astor, when I'm done with you, you'll be on your knees doing more than just begging."

***

i'm so glad i made the decision to make her go to brazil. this wasn't in the original version, but that's why this is just *chef's kiss*.

i hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!

(don't worry, there's wayyy more spice ahead.)

love, zia.