34. Mia #2
“These enchiladas are amazing,” Diego said. “Almost as good as mine.” His voice was impressively steady despite what was happening beneath the tablecloth. His fingers had become more daring, stroking up and down my slit, pushing my damp panties against my heated skin.
I choked on the water I’d just gulped down. My hips shifted involuntarily, pressing into his touch.
“You sure you’re okay?” Aaron asked, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Fine,” I squeaked, as Diego’s finger pressed the thin fabric directly over my clit, then rubbed with agonizing slowness. “Just… went down the wrong pipe.”
His fingers vanished, and I felt both disappointment and relief. Mostly the former. But a moment later, he nudged my panties aside. I inhaled sharply as the pad of his finger pressed against my clit. He was fingering me in the middle of the restaurant . That thought made me even wetter.
Diego’s expression remained neutral as he reached for the chips with his free hand, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes when they met mine. His finger dipped lower, teasing my entrance before returning to those maddening circles.
I tightened my grip on him, feeling him throb beneath my palm. I couldn’t imagine that my touch through the thick denim was doing as much for him as his was for me… but there was no way I’d be brave enough to unzip his pants. Not here.
Tonight, though. Definitely tonight. My hips squirmed in anticipation, and Diego lightly pinched my clit, causing me to let out a high-pitched yelp.
Cody and Aaron were both staring at me.
“I’m just excited,” I offered. Which was certainly the truth. “We’ve still got two days left, and this has been so much fun.” There. That was at least semi-coherent, right? God, I hoped it was.
Aaron turned his attention to Diego, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t you have to give a lecture next week?”
“Yes.” Diego’s voice was strained. “To an undergrad public policy class.”
“Are you ready for that?”
Diego nodded, his jaw tightening. “Almost,” he said, and I ran my thumb over the head of his cock through his jeans. “I’m really close. How are you doing with your paper, Mia? Are you close?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. His finger moved faster now, circling my clit, and I had to concentrate on keeping my breathing even. Heat pooled low in my belly, tension building.
When his finger flicked directly across my clit, I gasped, clamping my thighs shut, trapping his hand there. I had to stop this, or I was going to come right in the middle of the restaurant.
Desperation made my brain kick back in—more or less.
“I spilled salsa on my shirt,” I exclaimed, a second before letting the red sauce drip onto my sweater. Oops, wrong order. “I’ll just go to the bathroom and wash it off.”
I hopped up so quickly that I nearly knocked the chair backward. But Diego was quicker, withdrawing his hand the second I started to move.
“Seriously, are you sure you’re okay?” Aaron asked.
“Never better,” I said, in a somewhat maniacal voice. As if getting salsa on my sweater was the best thing ever.
I headed toward the bar, trying not to run into anyone. Trying to remember how to walk. My legs were shaky, and it was almost like I could still feel Diego’s fingers between them.
I looked back only once, when I was almost across the room. Diego was watching me, and when he caught my eye, he popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them.
Oh shit.
I stumbled backward and down a hallway. The noise from the dining room faded, but now I could hear the rattle of pots and pans from the kitchen, and people barking terse orders in both English and Spanish.
There were a few doors along the hallway, and I staggered past them, looking for the women’s restroom. But I must’ve overshot it, because I reached the end of the hallway. I turned to go back, and Diego was there.
He was right there , his eyes dark on mine.
And at the exact same moment, we threw ourselves at each other. He wrapped an arm around my back, stopping me before I slammed into the wall. My hands were on his shoulders, pulling his mouth toward mine.
His mouth crashed down on mine, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tasted of tequila as his tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me.
“I want you so fucking badly.” His voice was raw, feral, and hot as hell. His hand slipped under my sweater, easing between us, and then he cupped my breast, squeezing. I gasped, arching into his touch, my hips grinding against him.
It wasn’t enough. I needed him between my legs. Either his fingers, like before, or that hard cock I’d felt through his jeans. Every inch of my body cried out for it.
“Please,” I begged, my voice needy and breathless. I gripped his shoulders and brought my legs up, wrapping them around him. Now I could feel that hard bulge in his pants, this time pushing against my slit.
He growled, his hands sliding down to my ass, holding me up. My skirt rode up, but I didn’t care as his hard cock ground against me, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through my body.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice hoarse. “I can’t fucking wait until tonight.”
He took a few steps down the hall, still kissing me, and when we came to another door, he kicked it open.
By some miracle, it was dark, empty, and quiet. That was all I needed to know as he pressed me up against the wall. My moans filled the room as his erection was so close to where I needed it to be. “Please,” I whimpered.
“You want this?” His voice was rugged and desperate.
As I frantically nodded, my hands clawing across his back, I heard the rasp of his zipper, the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and then he was there, his cock pressing against me.
“Now,” I pleaded, my hips rolling. “Please, now.”
He didn’t make me wait. Pushing aside my panties, he thrust into me, filling me with one smooth stroke.
I cried out, fisting his hair in a way that was probably painful, but neither of us gave a shit.
His thick cock filled me, stretched me, and as I writhed up and down, all I wanted was more, more, more.
Diego set a punishing pace, his hips slamming against mine, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. I’d never had it like this, so fast. So primal. My gasping breath was ragged and raw.
“You feel so damn good,” he panted, his voice strained. “You’re so fucking tight.”
I squeezed myself around him, and a throaty groan rumbled through his chest. I could only moan in response, my body tightening around him, my orgasm building with every powerful thrust of his hips.
The angle of his cock somehow scraped against my clit, but even if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered. I was so damn close.
Then, pushing me more firmly against the wall, his finger found my clit and rubbed it hard.
I shattered in his arms, my body convulsing and tightening around him, my cries accompanying my harsh breathing.
He followed me over the edge, his hips pushed forward, his cock pulsing inside me as he came. I bit my lip hard to keep from being too loud as I clung to him, trying to breathe through the onslaught of pleasure.
Diego braced a palm on the wall next to me, leaning heavily against me as we both tried to catch our breath.
My eyes closed as my forehead rested on his shoulder, my arms still wrapped around him. He was still inside me, and I wanted him to stay there forever, but bit by bit, reality was returning. Like how we were in a public place. And how two other men who were very important to me were waiting for us.
He stepped back, and I reluctantly let go of him.
He kept his hands around my waist, making sure I didn’t slide right down the wall onto the floor.
When he deemed me steady enough, he stepped back, dealt quickly with the condom, and tucked himself away.
I got one quick glimpse of his cock. Even in its softened state, it was big. Wow. No wonder I’d felt a stretch.
I did my best to smooth down my skirt and my sweater, but it was like my limbs were no longer under my control. That orgasm had reduced me to a quivering mess. A very, very satisfied quivering mess.
Then the door flew open, and a light turned on. Panicking, I blinked. Had Aaron or Cody come looking for us? Diego stepped in front of me.
A dark-haired man in a white apron stood in the doorway staring at us.
Oh shit.
Frantic, jumbled thoughts filled my mind. Did he know what we’d been up to? There wasn’t a legitimate reason for us to be in this room, was there? If so, I sure as hell couldn’t think of anything in my current state.
And just as the guy opened his mouth, Diego spoke to him in very rapid Spanish.
My breath caught, and I waited as Diego’s words echoed around the room. The silence that followed was agonizing. Then the man by the door smirked, turned around, and left.
I nearly sank down to the floor with relief, but Diego caught me, sliding his hand around my waist. “You okay?”
Um… was I? “Maybe?” I said, my voice shaky.
He smiled at that. “That’ll have to do for now. Can you pull it together enough to make it back to the table?”
“Possibly?”
He kissed my temple. “I’d carry you, but I think it would cause a bit of a stir among the diners.” He led me toward the door, his eyes cutting to me. “That was really fucking amazing.”
Nodding in agreement, I stopped before the door, taking one last moment to try to smooth down my clothes and hair. “What did you say to him?”
Diego hesitated, a sly grin playing around his lips. “Let’s just say that the bro code works in many languages.”
I couldn’t meet anyone’s eye on the car ride home, certainly not Diego’s.
Luckily, everyone seemed pretty full and content to be quiet.
Cody’s head was bobbing, his fingers tapping, and I was beginning to recognize that look.
It was the one that said he desperately wanted to be near a piano, or a pad of paper to jot down the melodies in his head.
Luckily, we were going to a place where he could do both.
Aaron kept glancing my way, but he seemed to accept it when I said I was fine, just full and a little tired.
Nevertheless, his gaze kept landing on Diego too, and I half-wondered if he was going to go all protective and tell Diego to go easy on me tonight.
If so, the message was a little too late, and I was very glad for it.
Later, when I was in his arms and in his bed, it was amazing.
Twice since we’d met, we’d let passion and arousal overwhelm us, and both times it had felt good at least physically.
There was something so heady about getting carried away with that, with both of you plunging headlong into that madness together.
But lying there next to him, speaking softly in the dark, talking about anything and everything—that was what I’d needed to truly feel that our relationship was back on track.
We talked for hours, sometimes sitting next to each other, sometimes stretched out on the bed, sometimes touching each other’s bodies, rubbing backs and shoulders, and occasionally kissing.
It was one of the best nights of my life. I felt so close to him, which is what I’d wanted from the start. It just seemed like, with the way we’d first met, I wasn’t going to get it.
We talked until we were both too exhausted to go on. One goodnight kiss turned into another, but it was soft and gentle and unhurried.
I fell asleep in his arms—and was still there when I awoke.
It was a perfect night.