Chapter 6 Miguel
SIX
MIGUEL
The truck hums beneath us, the heater cranked just enough to keep the windshield from fogging over.
Caleb’s quiet beside me, hands tucked into his hoodie pockets, but I can feel the tension radiating off him.
He’s so needy it’s almost a tremor, and I’m stuck between making him beg or pulling over and touching him until my name is the only thing he can say.
“You cold?” I ask, stealing a glance at him.
“Not really,” he mutters, but his shoulders are tight, and the way he keeps shifting in his seat tells me otherwise.
I grin, nudging him lightly with my elbow. “Liar. You’re always cold when I’m not holding you close enough.”
He rolls his eyes, lips twitching in a small, crooked smile. “Maybe I like it,” he says, voice teasing but low, almost a whisper.
“Maybe you just like making me chase you,” I counter, hand brushing against his knee. The spark is immediate. His breathing stalls, and I can feel him shift so it presses against my thigh.
“Maybe I do,” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, hood falling back, hair falling into his eyes. I reach up, pushing it away, my thumb brushing over his temple. The warmth under my fingers makes my chest tighten.
We drive in a comfortable silence, with only the engine and the distant sound of the waves breaking. Every glance I steal says the same thing: I want him, and he knows it. He leans into me a little, hand brushing against mine, and I don’t pull away.
Why would I?
“We’ll be home soon,” I murmur, voice low.
He nods, lips parted slightly, and I can’t help the slow smirk that spreads across my face. The want in his eyes when he looks at me makes me feel dangerous in the best way. Like I could take anything the world throws at me because he’ll still be looking at me like that.
God, I need him.
When we finally pull into my parking spot, I cut the engine and turn to him. My hand slides to his thigh, thumb tracing slow, teasing circles over the fabric of his sweats.
His eyes snap up to mine, heat burning behind them.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of the truck without kissing me first,” I murmur.
“Good,” he says, almost breathless. “I wouldn’t want to.” Caleb leans over and kisses me softly.
I step out and circle to his side, helping him down.
, The afternoon air is sharp against our skin.
I grab his hand and pull him close, pressing him back against the truck for a second longer than necessary.
His breath turns shallow as he settles against me, and I can feel his pulse racing under my palm.
“Come on,” I murmur, my lips grazing his ear as I steer him toward the condo. He shivers, and I kiss the smile into his skin.
My needy boy.
The door barely shuts behind us as I back him against the wall. My hands slide into his hair, while my lips claim his. Caleb melts into me, hips pressing low against mine. The kiss turns slow, hungry and teasing, and I can feel him tremble in my hands.
“Miguel…” he gasps between kisses, fingers clutching my sweatshirt. “I… I need—please… take me to the bedroom.”
Just like that, the world narrows to only him.
To the heat of his body. To the ache curling low and wild in my stomach.
All I need is him and all he needs is me.
“Save your begging, pretty boy. At least wait until I have these clothes off of you.” I grin against his lips, tugging him closer as I lead him toward the bedroom.
Caleb’s hands never leave me, fingers tangled in my shirt, and I can feel him trembling just from the anticipation—charged.
Every brush of our bodies sends sparks straight through me.
“Easy, baby,” I murmur, pushing the door open and letting him step inside first.
He pauses just inside the room, eyes dark, lips slightly parted, and chest heaving. His need is a live wire, and it yanks my own to the surface until my hands won’t hold still.
“You sure?” I ask, voice low, teasing even though my pulse is racing. “We don’t have to rush—”
“I don’t care about rushing,” he interrupts, stepping closer, heat radiating off him. “I just… I need you here. I need this.”
His words hit me right in the chest.
Caleb’s gotten better about being honest about his needs with me, and I want to give him every piece of myself when he opens up. Every touch, every kiss, every second. My hands slide to his waist, pulling him flush against me, and his lips find mine again.
The bed is just behind us, but I don’t let him go. I spin and press him against the wall again, just for a heartbeat, letting him feel the weight of me, the solidness of my body against his. His hands are everywhere—on my chest, in my hair, and along my arms.
“You’re mine,” I whisper into his ear, lips brushing the shell. “You know that, right?”
“I know,” he whispers back, voice shaking slightly. “I… I fucking need you.”
The words hit like fire. I’ve heard them before, felt the desperation under them but this time, he’s saying them out loud with nowhere to hide. No shrug, no smirk, no taking it back. And I can’t ignore what he wants from me.
My hands roam over him, brushing over the muscles I know so well, having memorized every line and every curve. He gasps against me, soft and needy, and I tilt my head, deepening the kiss.
His body is flush against me, and I can feel the tremors running through him. He clutches my shoulders, holding me closer, and I let him.
I don’t want to stop, I don’t want to hold back a single second more.
“Baby… please,” he breathes, pulling back just slightly to look up at me. Eyes dark, lips swollen, chest rising and falling fast. “Take me… ”
I don’t need to hear it twice. I grab his hand, fingers lacing with his, tugging him onto the bed.
He sits, and I kneel in front of him, leaning close so our foreheads touch. Caleb shivers again at the contact, hands on my chest, holding me like he’s afraid I might vanish.
I brush my thumb over his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw.
“You’re safe,” I whisper, voice husky. “If I need to stop, you tell me, and everything stops. Understand?”
“I understand.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips, then buries his face in my neck, arms tightening around me. I hold him close, rocking us gently, letting him settle against me.
Every touch and breath, even the smallest shift between us, feels like a quiet promise. And as he murmurs my name into the crook of my neck, soft and trembling, I know this—this closeness, this intimacy—is everything we need right now.
No masks.
No pretenses.
Just us, together, safe, and finally letting the world wait.
I run my hands over his shoulders, slowly sliding the hoodie up his arms until it drops to the floor. His skin is warm beneath my fingers, and I can feel him shiver—not from the cold. My hands linger a moment longer than necessary, memorizing the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
“Relax,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his. “I’ve got you.”
He dips his chin, lips parted, eyes heavy with trust and heat. I slide my fingers under the waistband of his sweats and ease them down until they fall to the floor.
“Fuck, baby,” I breathe. Leaning close, my lips brushing over his temple as I make my way down to his jaw. He tilts his head, offering himself, and I kiss him softly, letting the tension bleed out of him into me.
My own hoodie and shirt come off, and I tug my sweatpants down, leaving us both in our underwear.
The sight of him, just like this—vulnerable, needy, completely mine—hits me like a wave. My hands trace over him again, fingers exploring, holding onto what’s always been mine.
He leans into me, lips finding mine for a long, slow kiss. His hands move down my back, grip my hips, and hold onto my ass. And I let him, holding him like he belongs here.
Because he does.
This is where he was always meant to be.
In my arms.
My bed.
Easing him down until he’s lying back, pulling me on top of him. Our bodies fit together perfectly, like a puzzle we didn’t even know was missing pieces until we were together again. He pushes into me, arms curling around my neck, legs tangling with mine.
We stay like that for a long moment, just breathing, letting the heat between us settle into a fire that won’t die.
I press soft kisses along his jawline, over his temple, lips brushing his shoulder. He hums against me, a low sound that makes something ache in my chest.
“You’re perfect,” I murmur against his skin, letting my hands roam lightly over his sides and his back, memorizing him all over again.
Caleb groans and I know it’s because of the compliment.
“One day, I’ll tell you and you’ll believe me. Every part of you is perfect, Caleb. Down to the very marrow of your bones.”
He kisses me softly, then buries his face against my neck. Caleb’s hands clutch at my back, holding me like I’m the only thing keeping him from falling apart. I run my fingers through his hair, brushing strands from his damp forehead, kissing the top of his head.
“I-I,” he wiggles slightly, then pushes me to my back, straddling me, lips finding mine, hands buried in my hair.
“Baby… I need you,” he whispers, voice husky, trembling. “I need… this… us…”
I pull him close, wrapping my arms around him, letting him mold himself against my chest. We’re quiet now, just the soft press of lips, the warmth of skin on skin, and the small, perfect intimacy of being together without pretense.
Trailing my hands down his sides again, my fingers tracing the curve of his hip, up along his back. His breath hitches, soft and needy, and I press my forehead to his once more.
“Let me taste you first,” I breathe into the crook of his neck. “Every part of you. Right here. Right now.”
He nuzzles into me, soft kisses trailing over my chest and neck. “Yes… ”
I flip us with ease, putting him on his back. I kiss from his neck down his chest and stomach to the waistband of his boxer briefs. The outline of his cock makes my mouth water.
“You’re so hard for me, little brother.”
Caleb lets out a low groan at me calling him that. I lean down, capturing his lips in a deep, hungry kiss.