32. Graham
GRAHAM
THEN
August, Year Four
The thin rug beneath me was bunched in my fists.
Miguel’s throat flexed around my cock, and I gritted my teeth.
I wasn’t allowed to touch him, move, or make a sound until he licked the pineapple jam off my stomach and chest. He hadn’t reached those parts of my body yet, taking his sweet time below the waist.
The owner of the villa we rented in Costa Rica left a container of empanadas on the front porch that morning. Miguel insisted on saving them for his afternoon snack. I was the snack.
As he knelt between my legs, he popped off my dick and gasped for air. Drool dangled from his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand while the other one worked my prostate with a titanium wand. I whimpered. Couldn’t help it.
He smirked, victorious and cute and rude. “Do you need to be fucked, baby?”
Yes! I screamed the answer inside my head.
I could’ve cried when he unsnapped the front of his pink jockstrap. He’d been prancing around in it for hours, teasing me with how it framed his tight, perfect ass. Every time I tried bending him over a surface, he would swat me away like I was a pesky gnat. But we were finally getting somewhere.
Miguel pumped lube into his hand and stroked his cock as he crawled forward, dragging his tongue up the center of my sticky stomach.
When he licked the pineapple jam off the first nipple, my body broke the rules and reacted, spine arching and eyes rolling back in my head. I bit my lip to suppress a moan.
“You’re being so good for me,” he whispered, breath fanning my skin as he switched to the other nipple. “So patient.” He sucked hard, trapping the sensitive bud between his lips. “Patience gets rewarded. Grab your knees.”
My knees were touching my shoulders before he could remove the wand from my ass. I was desperate to have him. And as he pushed in, we both moaned from the exquisite feeling of his thick cock stretching me.
Miguel always started out with slow, shallow thrusts, and that day was no exception. “Feels good?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted.
He gripped the back of my thigh in one hand and my leaking dick in the other while punching his hips, driving deeper.
“Tell me I’m pretty,” he demanded.
“So pretty. The prettiest prince when you’re fucking me.”
Moaning, he leaned down as I lifted my head to meet him halfway. Instead of kissing me, he captured my bottom lip and sunk his teeth into it. I nearly came.
Miguel broke character, speaking softly against my panting breaths, a smile teasing his lips. “You love this. Being in the wild does something to you. You wanted to break all my rules.”
We weren’t in the wild, but close enough.
Heliconia plants surrounded us in the living room.
For our inaugural trip to Costa Rica without friends, I asked the property owner to have some potted and brought inside, sparing no expense.
The plants were Miguel’s favorite and played into my outdoor sex fantasies.
“Yes, but I followed the rules. I’ve been good.”
He leaned back, his expression hardening as he flexed his authority again. “Not good enough. My wild boy needs to be tamed.”
“Fuck yes. Tame me. Please,” I begged.
Holding my calves on his shoulders, he widened his knees to get a solid stance before letting loose.
Skin slapping skin was the bass line to my shouts of yes and harder and more.
All I could do was hang on to my dick and relish the way he gazed down at me with burning possession in his eyes. He was so fucking hot.
I whimpered, melting into the floor when Miguel slowed his thrusts, grinding his hips in circles. Outside of sex, he was tense and stiff-shouldered. When he was naked, his body moved with the grace of an ocean I’d happily drown in.
“Say it,” he commanded.
“O-only you.” The next thrust was harder, a punishment, and I groaned with glee. “Only you can have me like this.”
“You’re mine, baby. Don’t you ever fucking forget.”
It was hard to believe the demanding, insatiable man claiming me had ever been hesitant about sex. Now, he chased his pleasure and owned mine completely.
“Please. I need to come,” I said, squeezing my cock. I’d been on the edge for an eternity and couldn’t hold off any longer.
He pulled out and flipped to his back. I climbed over him, bracing myself with one arm near his head. Lips an inch apart, we shared breaths while jacking off together in a race for the finish line. Miguel won.
“Baby, I’m there. Fuck!” he shouted, head tipped back and neck straining.
His cum splattered our stomachs, and the heat flooding his dimpled cheeks pushed me to my combustion point.
My hand flowed as harshly as my breaths as I unloaded across his stomach and chest. I dropped my forehead to his shoulder and rode out the orgasm, trying not to collapse on him while catching my breath.
Miguel chuckled and dragged a finger through our combined release. “That’s quite the load.”
My weak arms trembled even harder when I hovered over him in a push-up position, dropping kisses all over his face. “You love it, and you’re a mess.”
“A satisfied mess. I think my reward for a job well done should be a nice, hot bubble ba—”
“?Hola? Is someone here?”
“Shit!” I spun, landing on my ass between his legs as I snatched the blanket off the couch. Flinging it over us, I yelled, “We’re still here!”
Miguel froze with his head lifted and his panicked gaze aimed to the doorway. He let out a high squeak when Dona Patricia, the property owner, appeared. I moved to the left, blocking his messy chest from view.
“Oh! So sorry!” With her eyes shut, she walked backward, arms flailing as she felt her way out of the room. “You said you would be gone for maintenance. Very sorry. I will wait outside. He is on the way.”
Eons seemed to pass before the door closed.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I blew out a harsh breath.
I had forgotten she scheduled a plumber to fix the kitchen faucet that day.
She called twice with reminders, and I told her we’d be at the beach.
And I left the front door unlocked. How could I be so careless? Anyone could’ve walked in on us.
“Graham.” The distress in Miguel’s voice kicked me into motion.
I tucked the blanket around him and pulled him to his feet. “Get to the bathroom and shut the door. I’ll bring you some clothes.”
He didn’t hesitate, sprinting down the hallway faster than I’d ever seen him run. Peering around the corner, I checked the porch before hauling my naked ass into the kitchen to swipe my phone off the counter. On the way to the bedroom, I called Jonathan, who answered on the second ring.
“My Wednesday golf game is sacred,” he said.
“The property owner walked in on us.” While my statement sank in, I slipped on the first shirt and pair of shorts I found on the floor.
“One second.” A rustling sound crackled through the line before he spoke again. “Will she keep quiet, or do we need to pay her off?”
I dug through the dresser to find clothes for Miguel. “I don’t know. She’s really sweet, but…I don’t know, man. Offering hush money could offend her and make matters worse.”
“It’s your decision, Graham.”
With a tank top and sweatpants in hand, I hurried to the bathroom, coming to a swift stop once I stepped inside. Miguel looked tiny, huddled on the floor with the blanket wrapped around him and his forehead buried between his knees.
“Hey, let me call you back.” I ended the call and tossed everything on the counter, then crouched down to rub his calves. “We’re gonna be okay.”
“We are not fucking okay. She saw us together. There’s no mistaking what we were doing.”
I slipped a knuckle under his chin and raised his head, keeping my tone light. “Tate and I have been renting this villa for years. Dona Patricia has never sold us out.”
“Well, Tate’s not here, is she? Your fiancée is on the other side of the world, and you’re getting dicked down at the beach. Imagine the scandal!”
“Don’t—” I closed my eyes and drew in a calming breath. “Please don’t demean our love, Miguel.”
He threw his arms around my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m freaking out, Graham. What if she tells someone?”
With the full weight of his trembling body pressed into mine, I kissed him on the cheek and helped him stand. At the sink, he wet a cloth and added soap, or tried to. His hands were shaking so bad, I took over and finished the job, erasing the remnants of our afternoon fun from his skin.
“Darling, listen to me. We can’t worry about what-ifs. Right now, we need to act before the plumber gets here. Do you want me to talk to Patricia, or should we do it together?”
“What would you say?”
I handed him a fresh towel, and he patted himself dry. His movements were robotic, face devoid of emotion when he dropped the towel on the floor and pulled on the sweatpants. Anytime he became overloaded from stress, he’d shut down, and I was at a loss for a way to help.
“I’ll explain the truth about me and Tate. I’ll tell Patricia I’m in love with you, but we aren’t ready for anyone to know. She’s always been kind to us, and I’d rather try honesty before bribery.”
He shoved his arms through the tank top and dragged it over his head. Something changed in his expression, a spark of determination he snapped into place with a stiff nod. “I’ll talk to her. Your Spanish is abhorrent.” The bathroom door bounced off the stopper when he threw it open.
“She’s fluent in English,” I said, rushing after him.
“You’re not. Let me handle this.”
Miguel marched to the front door, a barefoot man on a mission. I hung back in the living room and watched the exchange through a gap in the curtains. He gestured wildly with his hands, and Dona Patricia looked close to tears, shaking her head.
A thought crossed my mind—a wild one. For a brief moment, I hoped Miguel couldn’t get us out of this mess.
Maybe on a subconscious level, I’d been reckless on purpose.
If Dona Patricia told people about us, the burdens of living in secret and deciding when to come out would be taken off my shoulders.
Just as quickly, the guilt came. It was selfish of me to have such thoughts after asking Miguel to bear with me all these years. He’d gone above and beyond to protect my career. I owed him the same protection and consideration.
Whatever he said next made Dona Patricia smile, and the conversation ended with a long hug. When he returned, I crowded him in the entryway.
“Are you okay? What did she say? Will she keep our secret?”
Growling, he pushed past me. “She said you’re a terrible actor and never had her fooled because you stare at me like you’re hungry. Hungry, Graham! And if we don’t have our wedding here, she’ll never rent to us again.”
I stayed on his tail as he rushed around the living room, cleaning up our mess. “That was it?”
He snagged my speedo and the wand off the floor. “Yes. Also, you have to move the heliconias outside before we leave. That’s your punishment for the distress you caused everyone. It’ll save her nephews the time and effort.”
My voice rose high. “Me? Why only me? There’s, like, fifteen plants in here.”
“Twenty-two. I made the offer on your behalf because you”—he jabbed a finger in my chest—“forgot to tell me about the plumber, and you didn’t lock the fucking door.
” Miguel turned and stormed away, arms loaded with an empty food container, clothes, and sex toys. “I’m taking a shower and a nap. Alone!”
As I gawked at his retreating back, laughter bubbled out of me. Our close call wasn’t the least bit funny, but I couldn’t believe our stroke of luck. However, when I looked around at the big potted plants taking up half the space, all humor died.
I raked both hands through my hair and let them fall to my sides, nodding to myself. A cold shoulder and a few hours of manual labor were the least I deserved as punishment for being so careless. The day was ruined, but I knew I’d have fond memories of it any time I saw a pineapple.