59 When I arrive at the office the following morning, I’m not surprised to find Eric working. I quietly put my things on my desk. My office phone rings. Eric wants to see me. “Good morning, Miss Flores.” “Good morning, Mr. Zimmerman.” Then I notice Julio Merino, a young guy who works with the company, sitting at a round table in Eric’s office, surrounded by papers. “Mr. Merino,” says Eric, leaning back in his chair, “could you get me some coffee, black?” The young man stands up. “Yes, Mr. Zimmerman . . . right away.” As he walks by me, he rolls his eyes, and I try to contain my laughter. “How’d you sleep?” he asks once we’re alone. His tone is much softer. “Terribly. I missed you.” I notice his lips curving into a smile. “Surely not as much as I missed you. Tonight you’ll sleep with me at my hotel.” “Great.” I’m delighted by this suggestion. This might be a good time to tell him what happened yesterday. “Are you up for playing with company?” My stomach tightens. It’s been a good while
60 The next morning, Eric and I arrive at the office separately. He’s very emotional because of my impending transfer to Germany, as am I. Luckily, I have clothes at his hotel, and I’m able to dress there and not go to the office with the same clothes from yesterday. I haven’t yet explained to him what happened with those women the other day and have now decided to keep it to myself. In fact, nothing happened, and if I tell him, he’s just going to get angry. As we do every morning, Miguel and I go have our coffee before starting the workday. I’m in a good mood, and I decide to sit by the door. I know that Eric will be here any minute and he will search the place for me. Ten minutes later, the man with whom I’m completely in love comes through the door and looks for me. He then takes a seat across from me. Miguel and I continue chatting while I sneak peeks at Eric having breakfast. The elegance with which he butters his croissant has me totally hypnotized. Our eyes meet a couple of time
61 On Friday, Eric invites me to dinner at a fantastic restaurant. We agree on a mid-January date for my move. My apartment is mine. When I moved to Madrid, my father helped me buy it. After my conversation with Eric, I decide not to sell or rent it. It will be a place I always have whenever I want to visit Madrid. That night, in spite of the happiness I see on Eric’s face, I can tell he has a headache. I’ve already seen him take two pills. But he doesn’t want to talk about it. After dinner, as we’re leaving the restaurant, we run into some friends of his on the street. Eric turns to me. “Would you like it if I invite Victor to come back to the hotel to play, the three of us?” My heart pounds. I give my consent, and Eric grins. “Let me talk to him. I’m sure he won’t say no.” Eric and Victor step away from me and the girl Victor is with. Her name is Loli, and she’s quite charming. We talk while I watch the two men. Suddenly, I see Eric take a call, and his smile disappears. “We have to
62 There is a noise. I’m startled. It’s the phone. I leap from the bed. I look at the time. It’s 5:28 in the morning. Frightened, I run to answer. Any call at this hour can’t be good. “Yes?” “Honey . . . it’s me.” My sister? I’m gonna kill her! But then I hear her crying, and I’m terrified. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?” “I’m not doing well . . . not well at all. I’ve had a fight with Jesús. He left the house at nine o’clock last night and look what time it is and he hasn’t come home . . .” She cries, and I try to calm her down. “Where is Luz?” “She has a sleepover at a friend’s house. Please, I need you to come over.” “Of course . . . I’ll be right there.” I hang up and sigh. My sister and her hysterics . . . Thank God it’s Saturday and I don’t have to go in to work. I think about Eric. Should I call him? It’s possible he’s awake, but in the end, I decide not to bother him. Knowing him, he’s probably still angry because of what happened yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, wash my f
63 I’m on medical leave for three weeks, and I’m using the time to give my apartment a last cleaning and to pack up all the things I want to take to Germany. Eric wants to buy me a safer car, but I refuse. I love my Seat León. My insurance has it fixed in record time, and I imagine it’s because Eric has been all over them. The car comes back like new. Eric takes care of me with great tenderness and helps me with my packing. I’m not taking a lot of things, just clothes, photos, books, and my music. I want the rest to stay here; as time goes by, I’ll take it with me little by little. The day I return to work, everybody in the office just stares at me. I’m an object of great curiosity. They know I’m the big boss’s girlfriend, and they do what I hate so much: gossip! “Now that you’re the boss’s girlfriend, will you still have breakfast with me?” Miguel asks, but in jest. “You dweeb . . . Of course.” On the way to the cafeteria, he asks me about my health. I tell him about my accident, and
64 At the beginning of December, Eric’s mother shows up in Madrid to see with her own eyes how her son is doing. According to what she tells me, little Flyn was going to come with her, but at the last minute, one of his pranks made it impossible, and so she left him in Germany with his nanny. Her happiness on seeing Eric is obvious and more so when she talks about our coming move. One night, when I arrive at a restaurant and see my father, my sister, and my brother-in-law waiting for us, I’m moved beyond words. Eric has organized it all with the utmost discretion. He wants our families to meet and our relationship to be totally official. I like the surprise even more when my father kisses me with approval. “He knows what you’re worth,” he whispers to me. What I feel on hearing my father and seeing his proud face is indescribable. He wants the best for me, and he knows Eric makes me happy. Andrés and Frida also join us, and when I think there’s no room for anyone else, along comes Marta
65 The following morning, when I wake up, I’m alone and naked in our enormous bed. I see the suit Eric was wearing last night thrown carelessly on a chair, and my dress not far from it. I smile and sigh. For a while, I just lie there and do a mental review of the last few months with him. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. I don’t want the ride to ever end. My cell buzzes. It’s my father, telling me he’s going back to Jerez. I call him to say goodbye, and I smile, recalling how happy he was last night. He and Eric have made a good connection, and that’s very important to me. We agree to see each other at Christmas. I’ll say goodbye to him over the holiday and then fly out to my love in Germany. After I hang up with him, I leave my cell on the nightstand. I see the jar of lube, and I close my eyes. I still can’t believe I’ve done the things I’ve done. Never in my life would I have imagined having with any other man the kind of lust-filled sex I have with Eric. Every day I understand m
A SNEAK PEEK AT TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, NOW AND ALWAYS As soon as I leave the office, I race home as if someone put a rocket up my ass. When I look at all those moving boxes, my heart just shatters. Everything’s gone to shit. My trip to Germany is canceled, and for the moment, my life is as well. I grab a few things and stuff them into my backpack before Eric can find me. My cell buzzes and buzzes and buzzes. I refuse to pick up. I don’t want to talk to him. Ready to disappear, I go to a nearby restaurant and call my sister. I make her promise she won’t tell anybody where I am, and we agree to meet. I spot Raquel when she arrives, and I call her name. She responds, and after giving me a hug because she knows I need it, she listens. I tell her only part of the story, because I know otherwise I’d leave her speechless. I omit the part about sex, but Raquel is Raquel, and when things don’t add up for her, she starts in. “You’re crazy!” “Eric is a good guy!” “How could you do this?” In the e
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Photo © 2015 Carlos Santana Megan Maxwell was born in Nuremberg, Germany, to an American father and a Spanish mother. She grew up in Spain, where she still lives, and is one of the country’s most prolific and well-known romance writers. She began writing stories for her friends and family, who encouraged her to try to publish. It took twelve years for the release of her first book, but since then, she’s written many more as well as contributed to anthologies and magazines. She writes romantic comedy, chick lit, fantasy, erotica, and children’s stor
ies. Among her many awards is the Seseña International Prize for Romance Literature.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR Photo © 2017 Megan Bayles Achy Obejas is the author of the critically acclaimed novels Ruins, Days of Awe, and three other books of fiction. With Megan Bayles, she edited Immigrant Voices: 21st Century Stories. She also edited and translated the anthology Havana Noir, and has translated Junot Díaz, Wendy Guerra, Rita Indiana, Adam Mansbach, Ena Lucía Portela, and many others. In 2014, she was awarded a USA Ford Fellowship for her writing and translation. Born in Havana, she wrote The Tower of the Antilles, her most recently released collection of stories. For more info, go to www.achyobejas.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2012 by Megan Maxwell
Translation copyright © 2017 by Achy Obejas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Previously published as Pídeme lo que quieras by Planeta in Spain in 2012. Translated from Spanish by Achy Obejas. First published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2017.
Published by AmazonCrossing, Seattle
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Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonCrossing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542048569
ISBN-10: 1542048567
Cover design by PEPE nymi
For all of those in love with passion and passionate about love
CONTENTS
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SNEAK PEEK: TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, NOW AND ALWAYS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
1
My boss is the worst.
Honestly, I’m finally going to have to come to the same conclusion as everyone else in the office: that she and Miguel, my friend and colleague, have something going on. But no. I don’t want to think badly of them and get all worked up like the rest of my coworkers.
I’ve been working at Müller, a German pharmaceutical, since January. I’m the administrative assistant to the head of the local branch office. Though I like my job, my boss is constantly taking advantage of me. I mean, about the only thing she hasn’t done is tie me to a chair and throw me a chunk of bread to eat.
When I finally finish the pile of work my dear supervisor has asked me to have ready for tomorrow, I place the reports on her desk and leave.
It’s almost midnight and raining cats and dogs. Perfect. I run to the parking garage, and it is steaming like a bowl of soup. As soon as I press the button to unlock my little León, the car blinks its lights on to welcome me.
I quickly jump in. I’m not a coward, but I don’t like parking garages, especially when they’re this desolate and it’s so late at night. I lock the doors, open my bag, and pull out a tissue to wipe my face. I’m drenched. But when I go to turn the ignition, I drop the keys. I curse in the dark and crouch to look for them.
I feel around the floor with my hand, but the keys are nowhere to be found. Instead, I discover a pack of gum I lost a few days ago. Great. I continue patting the car floor until I find them. Then I hear laughter nearby and carefully look about, hoping I won’t be spotted.
Oh my God!
I see my supervisor and Miguel heading my way, giggling and chatting. They seem to be having fun. This puts me in a bad mood. There I was, working past the eleventh hour, and here they are, having a grand ol’ time. Without warning, they lean against the column next to me and kiss.
I can’t believe this!
Semisquatting in my car so they won’t see me, I hold my breath. Please . . . please! If they realize I’m here, I’ll die of embarrassment. Suddenly, my supervisor drops her bag, and without even looking, she’s grabbing his package!
Oh my! Now Miguel sticks his hand under her skirt. He raises it, then pushes her against the column and begins to rub himself against her.
Oh man, what do I do now?
I want to leave. I don’t want to see what they’re doing, but if I start the car, they’ll know I’ve seen them. Bent and still, I can’t stop staring. Miguel lets her down and bends her over the hood of her car, then lowers her stockings, first with his mouth and then with his hands. Lord, I’m staring right at my supervisor’s ass. What a nightmare.
Miguel asks her, “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”
My boss, like a cat in heat, surrenders completely to the moment. “Whatever you want . . . whatever you want,” she purrs.
Oh my God! Here I am, with a front-row seat. I just need some popcorn. Miguel lowers her over the car’s hood again, parts her legs, and brings his mouth to her sex. My supervisor, Miss Uptight, lets loose a wail, and I cover my eyes. But curiosity, a morbid curiosity, drives me to uncover them again. I stare as he finishes tasting her and then pulls back a little and pushes one, then two fingers inside her. Straightening up, he grabs her dark hair and tugs as he moves his fingers in a rhythm that—why deny it?—would make anyone moan.
“Yessssss!” she exclaims.
Now I’m having difficulty breathing.
Whether I like it or not, viewing that scene makes me frenetic. My sex life is pretty normal, probably predictable, so yes, watching this live and in person is getting me all hot and bothered.
Miguel pulls down the zipper on his gray pants. He releases a more-than-acceptable penis . . . Whoa, Miguel! I’m stunned when he nails her with just one thrust. I’m dying! But of pleasure . . . I think.
My nipples are hard, and suddenly, I realize I’m touching them. When did I shove my hand inside my blouse? I quickly pull it out, but my nipples and the very center of my being protest. They want more. But no. They can’t have more. I don’t do these things. Minutes later, after more moans and turns, Miguel and my supervisor pull themselves together. They’re finished. They get into my boss’s car and drive off, and I sigh with relief.
Finally alone in the parking garage, I come out from my hiding place and sit up in the driver’s seat. My hands are shaking. My knees too. And I notice my breathing is accelerated. Excited because of what I’ve just experienced, I close my eyes to calm down and consider what it might be like to have sizzling hot sex like that.
A moment later, I start the car and exit the parking garage. I’m going to go have a beer with friends. My mind and body are on fire; I need to put out the flames and cool down.
2
When I get to the office th
e next day, everything seems fine. I run into Miguel and can’t help but smile. If Miguel and my supervisor only knew what I’d seen . . .
“Good morning, Judith.”
“Good morning.”
Miguel is very attractive. From my first day in the office, he has been wonderfully helpful, and we get along great. Just about everyone at work is drooling over him, but—I don’t know why—he just doesn’t have the same effect on me. Of course, now, knowing what I know and seeing him in action, I can’t help but think of him differently.
“Don’t forget we have a staff meeting this afternoon,” Miguel reminds me.
“Uh-huh.”
He grins, grabs me by the arm, and says, “Hey, let’s take a break. I know you’re dying for some coffee and toast from the cafeteria.”
I grin too. He knows me well. Besides being handsome and charming, the guy doesn’t miss an opportunity to be attentive. That, along with his perpetual smile, is Miguel’s greatest charm.
When we get to the ninth-floor cafeteria, we step up to the counter, place our orders, and head to our usual table. Paco and Raúl join us. They’re a gay couple I like a lot. They kiss my neck and make me laugh, like they do every morning. As the four of us begin to talk, I remember the scene last night in the parking garage.
“You seem distracted. What’s going on?” asks Miguel.
That brings me back. I look at him and try to forget the images running amok in my mind.
“I am. My cat is sick, more listless with each passing day, and . . .”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” responds Miguel as he takes my hand.
We talk about my cat for a little while, and that makes me sadder. I adore Curro, but he is slowly dying, and he will probably not be with me much longer. It’s something I’ve been dealing with since the vet gave me the bad news two months ago, but it’s still really hard. Curro’s a dear old thing, and in spite of the medication, there’s not much more to be done than spoil him and love him as much as possible.
Suddenly, my supervisor appears, surrounded by several men, like always. Miguel glances up at her mischievously. I stay quiet. She is a very attractive woman. A very intense fifty-something brunette, she’s the love-’em-and-leave-’em type, not exactly single, who’s been at the center of various scandals at work. She takes care of herself like it’s nobody’s business and doesn’t miss a single day at the gym.