Page 29

I’ll talk to you later. Have fun.

I’m just leaning forward to toss my phone on to Marcos’ desk when he opens the bathroom door.

The towel is gone and replaced with a pair of silky basketball shorts.

He’s not wearing anything else, which makes me far too overdressed.

I clear my throat, having a difficult time bringing my eyes up further than his belly button.

“I told my friend Micky you’re my boyfriend, so we’re official now,” I tell Marcos. He chuckles, and walks over to stand in front of me. When he steps in between my legs, my hands automatically reach for his hips. “God, sorry.”

I go to pull away, embarrassed to have already fucked up.

Marcos catches my wrists before I can get too far, though, and brings me back in.

The moment my skin touches his, I feel a swooping in my belly, like the floor disappeared out from under my feet.

It’s a little warm in this room and I am definitely wearing way too much clothing.

“You’re fine,” he tells me. I look up at him to find he’s already watching me. He gives my wrists a little squeeze before letting go and touching my face.

Gently, he cups his palms around my ears and drags his thumbs over my profile like he’s a blind man trying to get a feel for my bone structure. His eyes are serious and intent, giving me all of his attention.

“Tan hermoso,” he whispers. I don’t know what it means, but the reverent way he said it makes me certain it was a compliment. Slowly, I tug him in by the hips until he’s close enough for me to kiss them—one to each side. His hands slide into my hair as I do, and he doesn’t pull away. I do it again.

I kiss my way down the jut of his hip bones and across his stomach, paying careful attention to the hair leading down to his waistband.

I didn’t get a chance to do this either time we’ve been together, and I don’t mean to waste the opportunity I’m being given now.

I hold him as close as I can when I stand up, chests brushing together as I wrap an arm around his lower back and kiss him on the lips.

I smile against his mouth, tasting toothpaste on his tongue. He must have brushed his teeth when he was in the bathroom. He pulls on my shirt, and I break away to look down at him. Marcos is only a little shorter than me, which I’m realizing makes him the perfect height.

“Want to take this off?” he asks, giving another tug on the hem of my shirt. As if he even has to ask.

Cupping his face, I kiss him again. Hard. Hard enough to give him some idea of how much I like him, and how into this I am despite his worries when we were chatting in the car.

I strip down so fast I almost elbow him in the face.

He laughs and nudges me until I’m on my back in the middle of the bed.

Before he crawls on after me, he shucks off his shorts and bends over to help me get free of mine.

I prop myself up on my elbows so I can see all of him.

The comfortable heat that ignited in my pelvis is a wildfire now, and my heartbeat is almost painful.

I twist my fingers together in the sheet to keep from reaching for him.

I don’t want to touch him until I’m invited.

Marcos leans over me, and places a few kisses on my legs as he moves up the bed.

When he sits up and looks at me, I feel an odd flash of embarrassment.

It’s stupid. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in this situation, but somehow adding the boyfriend label has made everything feel slightly more important than it did before.

Marcos puts a hand on my thigh and carefully slides it up to my hip before retreating once more.

“Damn,” he muses, looking at his hand as he strokes it over my skin. My leg twitches beneath his palm. I don’t want to rush him, but I’d also like that hand to move a couple inches up and to the left.

“You okay?”

He glances up at me and smiles. Marcos doesn’t really smile the same way other people do, with their full mouth and teeth participating.

He smiles like he’s not really sure he wants to commit.

Like smiles are precious and he can’t give them away to just anyone.

The trick is to look at his eyes. His mouth might lie, but the smile will be in the warm, deep brown of his eyes.

“I’m okay,” he says, a tad surprised.

He sits back on his heels but leaves his hand on my leg.

After a few minutes of strangely intimate eye contact, he shakes his head and leans forward to kiss me.

Immediately, I put my hands on him and have to fight the urge to yank him down on top of me.

I can’t fuck this up so soon after promising I’ll be careful with how I touch him.

It physically pains me to let him go when he leans to sit back again. All I want in this moment is to grab hold of him and not let go. To kiss him until my lungs burn, and all I can taste is Marcos. I want to spend the night here, and see his face first thing when I wake up.

Neither of us are particularly hard any longer, but it doesn’t matter. It’s going to take two seconds for me to fire back up, and the look on Marcos’ face makes me think he has something to say before we really get going.

“I usually top,” he says without preamble. My stomach drops. I honestly hadn’t made myself consider the possibility of bottoming, beyond that first wild foray into internet porn. Marcos, with his sharp eyes on my face, must see some of that immediate panic. He smiles gently. “Never mind.”

“No.” I lift a hand, meaning to stop him before he decides to just try and blow me or something. “No, wait, that’s fine. I can…I can bottom.”

“Nate,” he says, so kindly it tightens my stomach into a knot.

“It’s just…shouldn’t you do like an enema or something first? Also, I showered this morning, but that was hours ago. I was sitting at a baseball game, in the sun, so… And it hurts, right? Like, the internet says that it hurts until you get used to it. I’m not used to it at all .”

“Nate,” Marcos repeats, swiping his thumb along the inside of my groin and circling it around. “We’re not going to do that. We don’t have to.”

“No, really, it’s fine.” I sit up a little bit more, feeling self-conscious and panicky. This isn’t my first time having sex for fuck’s sake, I shouldn’t be getting this nervous. “I just didn’t think I’d be doing that, so it caught me off guard. That’s all. And I didn’t, like…prepare.”

Gently, Marcos puts his palm on my chest and pushes me back flat. He anchors himself with a hand on the bed above my shoulder, but leaves the other touching me.

“Let’s leave it for another time. We’ll talk about it later, when we’re both clothed and not hard.”

I chuckle a little bit, but still feel sort of strange. My stomach is fluttery with nerves, and I have the oddest desire to pull a blanket over myself. Maybe Marcos can read that on my face, or he’s just a hell of a guesser, because he leans down and distracts me.

He’s a good kisser, and after a few minutes, my body is tingling and my dick is hard once more. Embarrassment gone.

“Thanks,” I whisper against his mouth. He hums a reply from where he’s tucked his face into the crook of my neck. He seems fine and hasn’t told me not to, so I carefully cup a hand around his ribs and splay my fingers.

Each time I’ve seen him undressed, I’m surprised by how thin he is.

Even with the baseball and what I imagine is a pretty busy gym schedule, his hip bones are prominent and I can feel each rib and knob of his spine when I touch him.

It makes me feel oddly protective of him.

I want to hold him close, and maybe feed him some soup.

“What?” he mumbles when I chuckle.

“Nothing, sorry. I was just thinking that I wanted to feed you.” He lifts his head and frowns at me. I laugh again. “Like…caveman urge.”

He smiles at that, but doesn’t answer beyond lowering himself down enough that I can feel his dick rub against mine.

His eyelids flutter closed. Palming his hips, I bring him in further and raise my own to meet him.

I’ve never had another cock pressed against mine, but I can easily see the appeal.

Particularly when Marcos rolls his hips downward and every inch of him slides against me.

I close my own eyes for a second, feeling almost too turned on.

I’m nearly sick with how much I want him.

He tucks his face back into the curve of my neck, kissing gently. The movement of his hips is sedate, but paired with the tickle of his nose against my skin and the high of being allowed to touch him, I don’t need anything more. I don’t need anything but Marcos.

I touch him anywhere I can reach. My hands slide over his shoulder blades and down his narrow back.

When I reach his ass, I squeeze. He groans and bites down on my shoulder.

I arch upward and nearly come, but am able to hold it back.

He licks the spot, hips still moving, and continues on.

So do I, trailing my fingers over as much of his thighs that I’m able to reach from his position and trying to remember how each separate part of Marcos feels.

I can tell he’s getting close to coming when his pace picks up and his kisses turn desperate.

We kiss until we’re panting into each other’s mouths, frotting together somewhat desperately.

I feel the warm splash of Marcos’ cum splattering my stomach and chest, and groan.

He doesn’t stop moving, kissing me hard enough to press the back of my head into the mattress.

The orgasm rolls through me slowly, a wave of heat cresting down my spine as I arch up into Marcos.

He kisses me gentler now—little butterfly grazes across my jaw. I cup his ribs and tip my head back, enjoying the post-orgasmic pleasure of Marcos kissing my neck and murmuring softly in Spanish. It’s probably too early to tell him I might love him.