Lucky Boys (Il Fortunato #1)

31. Diego

CHAPTER 31

DIEGO

Fucking hell, had I really just said that? Yeah, based off the slow, sexy grin Wes rewarded me with, I guessed I had.

I would be embarrassed, but he was already pulling back and tugging the polo over his head. He had gone all out for the date and looked great. I felt underdressed in black gym shorts and a plain black T-shirt, but Wes didn’t comment. Besides, we’d only gone in the backyard and . . .

None of that mattered anymore because Wes’s hands traveled down to his waistband and he started to tug downward.

I couldn’t tell you what the look on my face was, but it was enough for Wes to pause. “Do you want me to stop?”

Fuck. “No. Definitely not. Sorry.”

Wes’s gaze softened “There’s nothing to apologize for, angel. Anytime you want me to stop, let me know. We can use safewords as well. Red to end things, but stop will work too.”

I didn’t even nod, afraid he’d take that as a sign. He pushed his pants down, kicked off his flip flops and then the pants, leaving him in nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs. I immediately locked in on the obvious bulge in his underwear.

“Fuck.”

Wes laughed. “I hope that’s a good ‘fuck.’”

I looked up at him. The light from the pool was reflecting across his face, leaving him with this purple shadow across half of it. “It’s a very good fuck. Can you, um, take them off all the way?”

Wes kept eye contact with me the whole time. Even though I was the one directing everything, it still felt like he was control. I couldn’t explain it, but just the way he was watching me with this calm reassurance let me know that he got me. That he was safe and he’d catch me if I fell.

“Remember, we can stop at any time.”

It was all he said before he tucked his thumbs in the elastic of his underwear and very slowly started to bring it down. I wasn’t sure if he was going that slow to make sure I didn’t freak out or to torture me, but the result was the same. I was losing my damn mind by the time his semihard cock popped out of his underwear.

He stood, totally cool and collected, his hands relaxed at his sides, not covering himself up, and waited patiently for me, not at all like someone who was standing completely naked in his best friend’s/partner’s yard.

I, on the other hand, was a total fucking mess. I wasn’t scared. No, not that. And I wasn’t disgusted. I was turned on. I wasn’t fully hard, but I was quickly on my way there.

I wanted to touch Wes. I wanted to feel his dick in my hand. I just . . . I didn’t know if I was ready for that step. Every time I even tried to picture it, I got a mental block in my brain. It wasn’t fear exactly, more a question—did I really want this? And as much as I wanted to say yes, I knew better than to push myself.

Still, I needed to see more. The little scene at the pool with Brooks was fresh in my mind. If what Wes said was true and the reason I reacted was because I trusted Brooks, maybe the same would happen with Wes. Hell, it already was. But if he touched himself . . . would it get me as hot?.

I hoped it did. I trusted Wes. I liked him. I liked spending time with him. Fuck, I’d even fallen asleep with him. That didn’t happen with just anyone.

It became a desperate need inside of me, and I was literally panting when I asked him, “Can you please . . . touch yourself?”

Holy shit, my knees buckled from the look Wes gave me. Brooks would call it panty melting.

“Of course, angel, anything you want.”

He spit in his hand and then it wrapped around the base. He wasn’t doing anything special, fuck, I’d done it to myself before, but I was mesmerized by that big, callused hand wrapped around his thick, veiny cock. Then, when he started to move, I was . . . Well, the first word that came to mind was starstruck, which was dumb as fuck and didn’t make any sense, but nothing did right now.

“Do you like this, angel? Do you like watching me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Do you like seeing how hard I am? Seeing my hand while it moves up and down my cock?” He pulled his hand away just to spit on it again, and then started to jerk himself off harder and at a faster pace.

My lips parted, and before I even realized it, I started to slide my hand down the band of my shorts. I froze, looking at Wes. I don’t know why I was asking him for permission. Maybe it was all that Daddy talk earlier, maybe it was living with Brooks my whole adult life, but my fingers twitched just inches away from my own dick, like I was waiting for Wes to say something, anything.

He faltered briefly, but he got it together quickly. “Do you want to touch yourself, angel? Give yourself pleasure while you watch me?”

Fuck, how did he make that sound so hot?

“Yes. Please?”

“You ask so nicely, Diego. Of course, honey. Do you want to stay covered?”

I choked up, so fucking touched that he’d even thought to ask. It meant everything, honestly.

I flopped back in my chair, suddenly so overwhelmed and overstimulated yet still getting hard. My brain couldn’t take it all.

Wes was there then, kneeling in front of my chair. Still fucking naked but watching me with concern.

“Diego? What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “I’m being dumb. Sorry.”

“Hey.” His tone took on a stern edge. “None of that. I know I don’t have the right to give you rules yet, but I’m asking you not to talk down about yourself. You are so fucking strong, Diego. And whatever just happened, it wasn’t dumb.”

I tilted my head back so I was looking up and not at those fucking hypnotizing eyes. I swore they had me under their spell. “I just . . . got overwhelmed. It really was ridiculous.”

Wes shifted on his knees. “It wasn’t. What overwhelmed you?”

“Just, your fucking consideration, okay?”

That definitely took him off guard. “My what?”

“You asking if I wanted to stay covered. Who the fuck does that? Why are you so fucking perfect? It just . . . It affected me more than I expected. In a good way,” I rushed to add so he didn’t get worried. “I didn’t mean to ruin this. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t see Wes’s . . . situation, since I was still not looking at him, but I sure as fuck lost any erection I’d gained.

“Angel, can you look at me please?”

“I’m too embarrassed.”

“Diego, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. But I’d really rather not have this conversation with your chest. Please? Look at me.”

The battle was lost before it had even begun. I was pretty sure I didn’t have the ability to say no to this man. I looked at him.

Like always, he seemed calm and unruffled. There was concern and some other emotions, but he always radiated so much fucking calm. It would irritate me if I didn’t love it so much.

“Don’t hide from me, angel. And you didn’t ruin anything. This? Talking, finding our limits, learning each other? Is way more important than a fucking orgasm. I can get that anytime. But these moments with you, they’re what matter in the long run.”

So many things hit me at once that I couldn’t even begin to make sense of what I was feeling. That seemed to be a common denominator when it came to Wes. I always felt off-center, but it wasn’t bad. It was like he was shaking the foundation of who I thought I was, but he was right there, keeping me steady, making sure, even if I faltered a bit, I was still okay. I was still me.

It was too much. Tears pricked my eyes, which I fucking hated. Crying was the literal worst. But I knew there was no way I’d be stopping now that it had started.

“Hey, we’re okay, Diego. How about I get dressed and we can go inside? You can take your meds, and we can watch House of the Dragon until you fall asleep? I’ll clean this up tomorrow.”

I was pathetic and needy and probably never going to be normal, but right now that sounded so much better than an orgasm. I nodded, afraid to speak so I didn’t burst into tears.

Wes smiled. “Good boy. You’re so good. My precious angel.” I wanted to snort. I was no angel, and I certainly wasn’t precious. But I kind of felt like I was with Wes.

“I’m just going to get dressed, okay?”

I nodded. Wes stood up, and even though he only took three steps from me, it felt too far.

I climbed to my feet. I wasn’t usually clumsy, but I was a hot fucking mess right now, and I tripped on one of Wes’s flip flips and stumbled right into his arms. I swore to fuck it was right out of one of those movies Mom loved to watch. He caught me.

“Easy there, sweetheart.” As soon as I was steady on my feet, Wes started to let me go, but without even thinking about it, I stopped him, my hand covering his.

“I-I think I like when you touch me. Sometimes,” I clarified, knowing I wouldn’t always be okay with it.

Wes looked at me seriously. “I’m honored, Diego. Seriously. I will always respect your boundaries.”

“I-I know.” And I did. I guessed that was why I could tolerate Wes’s hands on me, like I could sometimes with Brooks. Because I knew they’d always respect my boundaries. They’d never get angry at me or lash out if I couldn’t tolerate their touch. Of course, Mom and Dad were the same too, but as much as I loved my parents, I didn’t love them, obviously. I didn’t think I loved Wes either, but, fuck, did I think it could happen?

Wes’s grip slid from my bicep and he took my hand. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I still felt a little silly and kind of like shit for ruining everything, but Wes made it seem like maybe it was okay. We put on our pj’s and he got me my meds while I found the show. Then, we sat on the big couch with our legs touching the entire time until I fell asleep.