Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Joaquim slammed out of the truck, heading for the hotel bar where tequila waited for him.
Damn it. Fucking shit. He was cagado. Worthless today. Fell from the fucking bull before he even left the chute. He was better than this. He was.
Joa threw himself into a booth, snarling at the waiter. “Two shots of Cuervo and a Dos Equis.”
“You ordered one for me, namorado! Thank you, huh?” Balta sat down next to him, hand glancing off his shoulder.
He bit back his growl, just nodded. He’d order another one when the waiter came back.
Grinning, Balta started babbling, just noise, really.
About how well Gilberto had done, how good Raul looked. Joa considered just killing him.
It could be quick, really.
Joa took the shot, nodded to the waiter. “I want two more.”
He got a sideways glance, Balta’s dark eyes worried. “What is it, doce? You had an off night. You’ll bounce back.”
He slammed the shot down. “I know.” If he didn’t, he’d be off the tour. Maybe he should do some minor league events.
“Joaquim…” Balta patted his thigh, doing that sports psychologist thing. “It’s fine, huh?”
“It’s not fine. I sucked.” He pulled down his beer, then took one of the new shots. Better.
“It’s not going to help if you get drunk, doce.” Oh, God. Sometimes Balta was so fucking righteous.
“It’s not going to hurt anything.” Sometimes he just needed to be mad.
“Well, it’s not good for you.”
There were a lot of things not good for him. Like falling on his ass in the dirt. Whacking his shoulder on a horn. Knowing that he was on bull number fucking nine of a slump. God damn it.
The shot the bartender had set in front of Balta just…sat there. Until he reached for it.
He arched an eyebrow. “You going to drink it?”
“Sim. You leave that alone.” Still, Balta made no move to reach for it. Just…taunting him.
“I’m going to order another one.” He was vibrating, hands opening and closing on the table.
“No, you are not. You’re coming with me.” Tugging, Balta stood, trying to get him to come along.
“God damn it.” He was just fixin’ to…bust. “Don’t, Baltazar. I’m real mad. Just don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t worry about you?” That booming voice floated right up over all the bar noise.
“Balta!” He pushed out of the booth, throwing some money down before storming out.
Goddamn it.
He just wanted to.
To.
Shit.
Hit something. Hard.
He headed for the elevators. He’d change and then he’d go find a fight.
When he turned the corner to the elevator hallway, he did hit something, his shoulder smashing right into a solid chest.
“Damn it.” He stared up into Raul Araripe’s eyes. Pretty son of a bitch. Pretty, solid son of a bitch. “Desculpe.” See him. See him apologize like a decent motherfucking human being.
“Nao. I was not looking.” Raul steadied him, hands on his shoulders. “You okay?”
“Sim. Sim. Fine.” Raul had long eyelashes. “Good ride today.”
“Obrigado.” That smile was like a bright light, making Raul’s eyes sparkle and the sharp features make sense. “I was going to have a drink. Want to come?”
“Sim. I could have one more.” He shouldered his bag, spreading to balance.
“Oh, good. Come.” Raul wasn’t much for talking most of the time, at least when he felt like he had to speak English. It was kind of nice. They ran into Balta coming out, and he got a look. Not reproachful, really. More surprised.
“You going back to the bar, huh?” Balta asked, blocking their way.
“Raul asked.” He surprised himself with the flash of guilt he had. “You want to come have one more?”
That dark head tilted. Sometimes Balta just seemed odd without his cowboy hat. Raul never did. Okay, maybe he didn’t need one more. He just wanted one.
“Nao. I’ll take your bag, if you want.” Balta grinned and nodded at Raul. “Don’t let him get silly. He’ll sing old Tupian children’s songs.”
Raul laughed, the sound much deeper than the man’s speaking voice. “Just a friendly one, sim?”
“I don’t sing.” He searched Balta’s eyes, searching for something to say whether the man was pissed. “You sure you don’t want a beer?”
One big hand clapped his shoulder, Balta smiling for him, the light of it reaching those pretty eyes. “No, no. You go. I’ll see you later, huh?”
Then Balta was grabbing his bag and heading off, leaving him staring at that tight bubble butt.
They headed back to the bar, nodding to Sam and Coke as they found a table. “You going to San Antonio next?”
“I am. As many as I can, you know? You and Balta going?” Raul ordered a shot and a beer, smiling at him sheepishly. “You want some food? I’m hungry.”
“Yeah. They have some things.” Yeah, he needed to hit San Antonio, needed to make some money.
“They have… Oh, what are they called? Corn dogs? Little ones.” Someone liked mini corn dogs—he could tell. Of course, what Brazilian didn’t love fried stuff? “There’s an event in um… Somewhere there, the Tuesday after. A small one.”
“Yeah? I ought to go. Make some money.” They got him a beer, both of them some food.
“Yeah. I been riding bad enough I need it before tonight, you know?” Winking, Raul sucked down his shot, making a face.
“You saw me ride. I know.” He chuckled, nodded.
His beer slid down easy, cooling him off.
Raul knew about being at the bottom. Raul was even newer to the circuit than he was.
The man had talent, and would work his way up, no doubt, but it was nice to be around someone who wasn’t Balta sometimes.
Balta was in his prime right now, winning all sorts of money.
“You just need to keep your chin down, I think.” He might have gotten pissed if Raul hadn’t winked at him, that smile irresistible.
He chuckled, nodded. “That and stay on the bull, sim?”
They laughed together, other riders coming over, having a drink, wandering off. When it was over Joaquim had finished two more and was starting to sway. “I should find my room.”
“I’ll walk you.” Raul had switched to Coke after one, and was far steadier. Those wide shoulders were just fine to lean on.
“Obrigado.” He blinked, hummed under his breath as they found the elevators.
“I had fun. Thank you for eating with me. Sometimes…” Those shoulders rolled in a shrug, Raul cutting off whatever he’d been about to say.
Joa nodded, reaching up to pat Raul’s shoulder. “It is lonely, sim? You need a friend, amigo, you call me.”
“Thank you.” They got on and off the elevator without much more than a few words, but when he got to his room. Raul gave him a back pounding hug. “Boa noite, Joaquim. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Boa noite, Raul. Durmo bem.” He fumbled with his key card, let himself in.
The door clicked shut behind him, and he could hear the sound of the shower running, hear Balta bellowing some ridiculous song. He chuckled, shook his head. Balta was… The most amazing man, ever. Crazed, but amazing.
He stripped off his boots and socks, his shirt, and headed into the bathroom. “Como vai?”
The shower curtain swung open, water spraying out and steam billowing. “Oi! Namorado. Are you joining me?” Balta grinned, smile lines etched into his cheeks.
“I am.” He grinned back, hands going to his belt. “We should invite Raul to eat with us one night. He is alone.”
“Yeah? He’s so new, huh? At least there are more people now who speak his language.” As soon as his jeans hit the floor, Balta reached out and reeled him in, closing the curtain behind him. Oh. Wet skin. Lots of it.
“Mm-hmm.” Yes. Nice Raul. Better Balta. He wrapped his hands around Balta’s waist, fingers digging in.
“You like him, huh?” Those soapy hands slid around him, pulling him right up close, rubbing him against that sturdy body.
“Muito bem, sim.” Raul was a good man and…
Mmm. Slick and slidy Balta… The calluses on Balta’s fingers rasped against his skin, giving him shivers, especially when Balta cupped his cock, his balls, rubbing everything in a slow circle.
That drew him up on tiptoe, his eyes rolling in time with that touch.
“Better now, amante? You were so tense.” That particular massage wasn’t going to make his muscles less tense.
“Sim, sim. I was… It was a bad day. It’s better now.” Much better.
“Good.” That smile made him breathless. Balta squeezed, pulling his balls up against the base of his cock. “I was just making it worse, so I thought I would go, huh?”
“No. No, I was just…” He swallowed hard, belly going tight. “Balta.”
“Sim. Love you.” That smiling mouth closed on his, the kiss going deep and hard in a rush, leaving him gasping.
Balta’s hair was thick, wet, like heavy silk on his fingers as he held on, gasping for breath.
“Sweet man. So hot. Already hard for me.” One heavy thumb rubbed up the underside of his cock before pressing against his slit.
“Sim. Sim. Mais.” More. He needed this.
“Yes, lover. Anything you need.” Balta kissed his chin, his cheek, the water running down his face, over his shoulders.
“Need you.” He laughed, the last bits of anger trickling out of him.
“Always.” Nodding, Balta rinsed him off, turning him around to slap the last soap bubbles off his ass.
The bare sting made him grunt, scoot into the water.
“Mmm. So pretty.” Far more gentle was the touch to his balls, the press of Balta’s fingers on the skin between them and his ass.
He moaned low, hips canting back just like he was making a correction.
“Mind in the middle, huh?” Balta teased, pushing against his butt, cock sliding along his crease.
“I can ride you, Balta.” Just saying that out loud made his cheeks heat, his chin ducking.
“You can. I love to watch you when you do.” The water stopped flowing, the silence almost shocking. Balta pulled him up, rubbing hard for a moment before moving back, getting them out of the shower. “Bed.”
He nodded, throat so tight he couldn’t speak. Bed. Yes. He got a wild hug, Balta squeezing him, lifting him off his feet. It made him laugh, made the tension ease some.
He took a kiss, just happy and warm. His devil. His Balta.
They stumbled out to the bed area, Balta flopping down with him, their wet bodies soaking the sheets. Good thing they had another bed to sleep in. Joa leaned, licking the droplets of water off the rich, heated skin.
“Oh, good, namorado. You want to kiss me better?” Balta pointed out a bruise on the top of his ribcage, mock pouting for him.
“Poor Balta…” He chuckled and licked, lips wrapping around that bruise, sucking so gently, just enough that Balta felt it.
“Sim!” That big body arched under him, all of those muscles tight and hard for him. Balta’s cock rubbed between them, wet and heated, ready for him to ride.
His lips moved down, finding the skin right above Balta’s nipple, bruising it.
One hand cupped his head, Balta moving his mouth to the flat bit of brown flesh, demanding, “More.”
“Mais.” He could give Balta more. His teeth scraped over the sweet flesh, the nipple wrinkling up for him.
Balta’s pecs tightened up even more, pushing that bit of skin into his mouth.
A low, ragged moan sounded fine to his ears, good and right.
He kept nipping and tugging, balls rubbing against Balta’s cock, teasing.
“Namorado.” Shifting restlessly, Balta pushed against him, moaning louder. “I need you.”
“Sim. Need.” He nodded, shifted, Balta’s cock brushing his hole.
They rocked, Balta pushing against him, into him, dick so hard that it just started to slide right in. Oh, yes. Please.
“Balta.” He swallowed hard and bore down, body stretching and pulling around the hard flesh.
“Joa!” Balta finally just pulled him down, all the way down, until he was sitting on those hard hips. Muscles flexed, Balta’s amazing body rippling for him.
The room seemed to swing, the sex, the booze, the night all coming together here, right around Balta’s cock. Holding him, moving inside him, Balta was solid as a rock. His rock. The very center of his world. Love words poured over him, most of them complete nonsense, but he soaked them right up.
They rocked together—slow, then fast—both of them together and easy, needing. Soon enough Balta was straining under him, hips punching up, belly hard as a board and twice as ridged. Those big hands held his hips, pulling him down into each thrust, holding tight enough to bruise.
“Balta!” His hands landed on Balta’s chest, squeezing the hard pecs. Soon. Soon, he was going to…
“Sim, amante. Sim.” One hand slid off his hip, wrapping around his cock. Balta’s face pulled up in a grimace, the expression so much like the one Balta wore when he rode that it almost made him laugh.
Almost, because he was busy coming, the top of his head trying to come off as seed poured from him.
“Joa…” The long, drawn out moan made him feel like a god. So did Balta giving it up, coming deep inside him.
He nodded, slumped down into those strong arms. “Bon.”
“Sim, doce. Much better, huh?” Stroking his sweaty back, Balta shifted, settling him along that hard body.
“Much much. Thank you. Obrigado.”
“Bem vendo.” He got a kiss, slow and sweet and perfect. “I thought you needed to unwind.”
Joaquim nodded. “I was tight inside.”
Balta laughed, the sound loud and happy. “You were.” Oh, ass—look at that wink.
He grinned, though, tickled, his own laughter pushing out of him as he pinched Balta’s butt.
“Oi!” They tussled, Balta slipping out of him, rolling him around on the bed. “No pinching!”
“No?” He pounced, tickling and playing, laughing as Balta tried to escape.
“Nao!” Cackling, Balta attacked his ribs in return, muscling him around. Then the man went for the backs of his knees.
He scrambled, sliding and slipping on the sheets.
“I’m going to get you, doce.” They both hooted when they slid off the bed and landed on the floor, the breath knocked right out of them.
“Hope AJ’s under us. He needs to be kept awake.”
“Yeah?” One dark eyebrow rose. “What has he done now?”
“He always teases. He needs less sleep and a tired mouth.”
“That just means he likes you, huh?” Balta kissed him hard, their laughter stilling. “He just doesn’t have the ways we do of getting a tired mouth.”
“No. No, his lady is having another baby. She’s swollen.” Bitchy. Snarly.
“Ah…” Balta propped up against the side of the bed, pulling him close, so he draped over Balta’s heavy thighs. “Have you ever wanted that?”
“Babies? No. No, Balta. I have sisters. I’ve seen what happens.” It was horrifying.
Laughing out loud, Balta squeezed him hard. “Sim, namorado. I have two, huh? Scary.”
“Sim, sim.” Besides, he had his life, his Balta, his piece of land. He was happy.
“We’ll just be old grumpy men together, huh? I’ll go first.” He had to laugh at that silly smile, Balta happy with life.
“Mm-hmm.” He could be old with his Balta.