Chapter 3 #3
He turns to me, and his expression is so hopeful it makes my heart squeeze. “You think about me?”
I snort. “Dumbass. I text you all day. I talk to you most nights. I… yes, Carlos. I think about you all the time.”
His face lights up. “I know that’s true. I know I’m being crazy. But I just… fuck. I think about you all the time too.”
I take a shaky breath because this is new territory for me. “Then why,” I demand, “are you standing all the way over there?”
Carlos is a smart man and doesn’t need to be asked twice. He crosses the space between us, and his hands come to rest on my hips.
“Fuck, holding you feels even better than I remembered,” he whispers.
And then we’re kissing, and it’s like every day of waiting, this whole day of unanswered messages, and even our stupid misunderstanding all fades to nothing.
His mouth is warm and sure, his hands pulling me closer until I’m pressed against him from neck to knee.
I thread my fingers through his hair, and he makes a soft sound that goes straight to my balls.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Oh,” I murmur. I can’t even help it. And the dazzling grin Carlos gives me makes it impossible to feel self-conscious about it, either.
“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for months.”
“Yeah? Just that?” I tease.
His grin turns wicked… and promising. “Not just that.”
I glance toward the Murphy bed, then back at him. “Well, we’ve got all weekend for you to tell me everything you’ve been thinking about.”
Carlos squeezes me tighter. “Actually… I was thinking we could start now.”
“N-now works,” I manage, and then he’s kissing me again, deeper this time and more urgent. His hands slide under my shirt, fingers tracing the line of my spine, and I arch into them.
“Bed,” I gasp against his mouth.
“Bed,” he agrees.
We stumble the few feet to the bed, hands roaming, pulling at clothes. Carlos’s shirt hits the floor first, and I take a moment to appreciate the view—those broad, tanned shoulders, his defined chest, the line of dark hair that disappears into his jeans.
“You’re staring,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he minds.
“Can you blame me? You’re fucking gorgeous.”
He laughs and reaches for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. His hands skim along the planes of my chest, my ribs, my stomach, until I’m shivering.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my collarbone.
We fall onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and kisses and increasingly desperate touches. Carlos slots his body between my spread legs, and his mouth trails down my neck, my chest, my stomach. When he reaches the waistband of my jeans, he looks up at me.
“Okay?” he asks. He looks eager but… almost vulnerable.
“Very. But have you ever…?”
He shakes his head. “You know I haven’t. But I want to. With you.”
Once again, his sincerity kills me. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to—”
“I’ve been dreaming about what you taste like, what sounds you make.” His cheeks flush slightly. “Is that weird?”
“Hell no.” I gesture down at my dick, which is straining against the front of my jeans. “Or if it is, I guess I’m a hundred percent on board with it.”
His smile is so bright and beautiful, I have to lean up to kiss him again. But he quickly pushes me down and makes quick work of the rest of my clothes and his own.
Once we’re naked, he does some staring of his own, and while I want to be patient and not rush him, I’m literally aching just from having him so close. I want to touch him. I need him to touch me.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, baby, but…”
Carlos’s lips close around my cock before I can finish the thought, and I swear to god, I see stars.
He’s tentative at first and a little clumsy, like he’s learning how much he can take and what I like. But the truth is, any damn thing he did would get me off. I’m gripping the sheets after just a few seconds and trying not to thrust into his mouth.
“Carlos—”
He breaks off, but when I expect him to come back up to kiss me, he heads in the opposite direction. He takes my balls in his mouth, suckling gently, while his big fist closes around my length.
Carlos is the opposite of tentative now.
He’s making these little groaning noises as he sucks me, and the whole bed shakes as he rubs himself against the mattress.
Knowing he’s finding this hot, that he’s just as into it as I am, amps everything up, and before I know it, I’m pressing my head back into my pillow, trying to arch up into his hand.
“Please. Oh. Oh, please—”
He hums as he licks a stripe up my length and dips his tongue into my slit. “Fuck. It’s even better than I thought,” he says roughly. “Christ.”
Carlos sucks me down again, and that’s pretty much all it takes. Just a few more strokes, and I’m coming in his mouth. He tries to swallow but chokes, and a thin trail of cum escapes from his lips… which is somehow even hotter.
“Come up here,” I demand, the second I’ve caught my breath.
I pull at his broad shoulders, at his hips, at every part of him I can reach, until he’s straddling my chest. When I take him in my mouth, he shouts something in Spanish that might be a prayer or possibly a curse… and his hands fist in my hair.