Chapter 13 Meant To Be #2
“Bra, off.” I shiver at his tone and do as he says. Damn, bossy Mateo might be my favorite. My soft spoken, assertive, kind Mateo unravels at the sight of me, and I like it. I free my breasts, earning a guttural groan from him.
“I like how much you seem to like these,” I tease, bringing my hands to my breasts and pinching my nipples.
“Do it again.” I do as he says and roll my hips searching for friction. I want his touch, though, not mine.
He kneels in front of me, his hands traveling up my thighs to my underwear, pulling them down in one, quick swoop. I’m thankful he didn’t rip these ones off. I really like them. He peppers kisses up my legs and my thighs, all the way up to my core, and I moan.
“You have the prettiest pussy, Daisy. It’s so perfect.” He slides his tongue over my folds, and I welcome it, bucking my hips against his face and feeling his rough beard right where I want it. He licks, one, twice, and spits on me. So filthy. So mine.
“I want your dick. Now,” I gasp, and he chuckles.
“And you’ll get it, but we went pretty rough last night, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I can handle it,” I say quickly. I don’t want him to think I’m incapable of fucking two days in a row just because of my health conditions.
He chuckles as he softens his features, lifting his browns to meet mine. “I’m sure you can, but we have a lifetime, baby, and I want to make sure you can enjoy this.”
I open my mouth to refute, but he beats me to it. “Without pain. I want to make you feel good and only good.”
I pout. “Fine!” He lowers his head back to my center, licking the worries away. Damn, he’s good at this.
“Get out of your head,” he says before he blows on my clit and sucks it between his lips.
“Ah!” I gasp.
“Good. Relax.” I do just that. I relax against him and just let the pleasure wrap me up whole. It starts in my toes and reaches my belly in no time. He slides a finger in then two, stretching me so nicely around them. I’m chasing the high like a skydiver preparing to jump, and I’m ready to fall.
He doesn’t let me, though. As soon as he has me writhing and moving under him without restraint, he slides his fingers out of me and kisses up my body instead.
“I was almost there,” I say, and he chuckles.
“I know, but you said you wanted my dick, no? Well, here you go.” His hands rest next to my face, and his mouth crashes against mine as he finds my entrance and glides in slowly. He bites my lip, allowing me space to breathe while he grabs my leg and pushes it back, stretching me around him.
“You—”
“You feel so good.” He beats me to it. It’s like he knows what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, before I have a chance to even form the thoughts. He knows how to read me so well.
He thrusts in and out of me, slowly at first, driving deeper and deeper. I bring a hand to press over my clit, and he smiles. “I love that you know what you need and go for it. Do you want me to take over?” I shake my head as I touch the spot I know will send me over the edge quickly.
“God, I love you. Always, but like this, about to burst for me, I love you even more.”
“Teo,” I whisper.
“Let go, Daze. Fall with me.” He drives in and out, again and again, his eyes not leaving mine, dark and full of lust. I can’t hold it anymore, and as the warm feeling builds behind my belly button, I let myself explode.
“Yes, there it is.” Something flashes behind his eyes, and then I feel it. Warm liquid hits my inner walls contracting around his thickness, making me feel so full.
“Yes,” I moan, and he nods. He slows his pace as we both come down from the euphoric high, one we climbed as two but reached as one.
“Damn.” My voice is breathy, full of want and feelings. Feelings that have been buried deep down for so long. Feelings I know were reciprocated, and now, we get to share them all.
“Damn indeed,” he says, his voice low and groggy and completely spent. He gives me a quick peck on the lips before collapsing next to me and opening his arm to get me to snuggle with him.
We’re both sweaty and tired and full of love. Well, I’m full. He’s empty, I guess. I chuckle at my own thoughts, but he just hums.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, my Daisy girl. I love you too.”
“Merry Christmas.” It’s in the distance. A soft voice. A quick reminder Christmas is here again. Another year, another morning I get to wake up with—wait…Mateo!
I open my eyes, and there he is, all smiley and fresh as a daisy. Cool as a cucumber. All of it, at once.
“Normal people don’t look like that early in the morning.” My voice is so drawn-out and husky.
His chuckle reminds me instantly of all the events of the trip, and I smile to myself.
“I have something for you,” he says, piquing my interest.
“Oh yeah.” With only one eye open, I take his hand and let him help me and sit up.
I’m naked and tired from being bent over more ways than one, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I drag the blankets over my chest and wait to see what he has for me.
In his hands lies a little perfectly wrapped gift.
“I didn’t bring anything. I figured we’d just wait until we got back home.”
Honestly, who brings a gift on a tropical vacation?
Five days of sunscreen, sand, meddling family, and cocktails was enough for me to worry about, not showing my best friend how I felt about him.
That doesn’t exactly scream wrapping paper required.
We fly home tomorrow. Gifts were supposed to wait until then. At least I thought so.
“Open it.” His smile isn’t just bright, it’s blinding, and it simultaneously lights up the whole room.
I tug the green string, and cinnamon slams into my senses.
It smells like their childhood kitchen, flour in the air, Mateo and Livie’s laughs echoing off tile walls, his rising above all.
Inside the wax paper sits a cinnamon-and-salt ornament, I know exactly what it is, since we used to make them as kids.
His dad would always help, and through the years, the tradition just kind of went away.
I turn it carefully, the texture gritty against my fingertips.
These things snap if you even look at them too hard.
“How did this survive in your suitcase?” I ask, but the question sticks in my throat when I notice the details: two small thumbprints pressed into a heart, the words Our First Christmas Together carved deep, with the years 2002 and 2025.
“Our first Christmas as kids,” he says softly, “and our first as a couple.”
My chest tightens. “When did you even make this?”
“This morning,” he says casually, like it’s normal to craft sentimental keepsakes before breakfast.
“You sleep like you’re auditioning for a coma, and I wake up with the sun. I thought maybe it could be our tradition. I’ll make you something while you rest, and then we spend the day together.”
He’s so thoughtful, so kind—so painfully correct about me and mornings. He’s sunrise and salt air; I’m blackout curtains and coffee. And somehow, he makes us fit.
“And in this plan,” I ask, narrowing my eyes with a grin tugging at my lips, “when do I get to do something for you?”
“Not that it’s tit-for-tat,” he teases, “but you’re awake now, aren’t you?”
Unbelievable. This man. I giggle and shake my head.
I set the ornament gently on the nightstand and throw myself at him.
His chest is warm against mine as I hug him, hard enough to nearly knock us both flat.
“Merry Christmas to you too. I love the ornament. And I love you.” I kiss his cheek, quick and playful, then swing a leg over him until I’m straddling his hips.
“What now?” he asks, sinking back into the pillows, hands resting on my ass like he’s already claimed his prize.
“Now,” I murmur, leaning close enough to breathe in his scent, warm, spicy, and now a touch of cinnamon too, “we get to do the rest of our lives together. No rules.” My heart is pounding, and I wonder if he can hear it too. “Well…maybe one final rule.”
His eyebrows lift. “What’s that?”
“That we keep being best friends, even now that we’re lovers.”
His smile softens, warm enough to melt me where I sit. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I pause, memorizing everything: the crash of waves outside, the faint tang of salt clinging to my skin.
The memories from not only last night, but the entire weekend, the way his eyes catch the light and hold me steady, his scent, his kindness, his eyes that never leave mine.
The weekend has been magic, and I can already see Bee’s jaw hitting the floor when I tell her every detail.
“Now, for your gift…” My voice drops as I tug the sheets over us, a grin playing at my lips.
I show him exactly how much I love him—without needing a single word.