“Those are the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” I said, touching the screen. I reached out and grabbed his hand, suddenly filled with the thought that I didn’t want him to leave, not even for a little while.
“Are you getting emotional about the cleats?” César asked me. “Should I tell them that you love them?”
“I do,” I said, my voice suddenly very husky. “I love the cleats. I love them.”
“Great.” He kept looking at me, one eyebrow raised. “You all right?”
“Great,” I said too, and forced myself to unpeel my fingers from his. “Let’s try out those high-fiber cookies I got.”
I lay in bed that night with my eyes open, not sleeping and not able to settle down. I went over my horrible meeting with Lincoln many, many times; I thought about my job and things I needed to do the next day. I made a mental list of stuff to prep for our move and reminded myself to ok the paint color for the trim at the new house. But mostly, I thought about César. I heard him in his bedroom, thumping his drawer closed, running water in his bathroom, and then creaking his mattress as he lay down.
I slid out of the cool sheets of my bed and crept out into the hallway. There was a little light still coming under his bedroom door and I thought he was probably reading more books about ancient history, or maybe he was texting with his Grandma Miriam, because she was a night owl.
“César?” I tapped on his door lightly, in case he actually was asleep, and then carefully cracked it open.
“Everything ok?” he asked me, and put down his phone. The light from his nightstand made a warm glow on his golden skin, the miles of it that were visible since he wasn’t wearing a shirt and the sheet bunched around his waist.
“Everything’s ok,” I told him. “I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking a lot.” I padded over the thick purple carpet to the bed.
“About what?”
I sat on the edge of the mattress, next to his hip. “I was thinking about you leaving to go to Chicago for the cleat commercial.”
“I’ll be there and back. You’ll hardly notice that I’m gone.” He reached and touched my face. “You have to work, right?”
I nodded, rubbing my cheek against his fingers and then resting my chin in his palm. “I’m not trying to invite myself.”
“Are you worried about the baby? Or being alone?” His forehead furrowed. “I was thinking about you fainting.”
I shook my head, brushing against his fingers again. “I’ll be fine. It’s not that.”
“Then what?” he asked me.
I swallowed. I put my hands on his broad shoulders, and I leaned forward and grazed my lips against his. When I pulled back a little, César’s brown eyes locked on mine and I could feel my heart pound. He watched me for another moment, then his hand on my cheek moved to thread through my hair, and he pulled my head forward until our lips met again. I gripped his shoulders as his tongue touched mine.
His hands moved under my arms and he lifted me fully onto the bed to lie next to him, and he slid down until we were face to face. The heat from his big body lit mine on fire. I felt my nipples harden and rise, my core start to throb.
“Is this what you want? Do you want me, Camdyn?”
That was what he had asked me on the beach back in Florida, and I had pushed him away. This time, I nodded.
“Yes,” I answered.
César’s tongue was back in my mouth before I finished saying the word. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms and legs around me, and he kissed me until I could barely breathe. When he picked up his face to look down at me, I grabbed his neck for more. He pulled at my t-shirt, slipping it over my head, and then at my panties, sliding them down my legs. His one arm held me, but his other hand slid too, gliding over my body. He stroked up my legs, my arms, and then gently squeezed my breast.
“Is that ok? Is it too sore?”
I moaned against his mouth and pressed closer. “More,” I begged him, and I heard him laugh. He stopped when I reached between his legs and I stroked him there. I was gentle, too, until he growled.
“Harder. Cup me.”
I did, reaching more to roll his balls in my palm. Holy shit, everything down there was massive. I panted as I felt him get bigger and harder beneath my fingers. César slid himself between my legs and his hand molded my ass and rocked us together. He was huge and hot as he rubbed against me, caressing me.
“César, oh…” My head lolled back and he suckled my neck. “Please, go faster. More!” I begged, my body quaking. It felt so good, it was so good. “So good,” I told him, but I wasn’t sure it came out as words or just moans.
“Are you going to come?”
“Yes!”
He kissed me fiercely and his hand clenched around my ass. “I hear you in your bedroom. I can hear you when you make yourself orgasm. I want to make you come, again and again.”
“Yes…”
I couldn’t control my body. I shook, trembling against him and trying to hold on as he moved his hips faster and faster. I pushed my breasts against his chest and when he squeezed his hand again, I did come. My body tensed and then shuddered in waves and I cried out his name, clutching him closer, wanting even more.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he told me, his voice low and throbbing. “I wanted to hear you scream my name. Just like that.” He kept moving between my legs, slow and insistent.
I could only groan as my body continued to clench in pleasure. It just didn’t stop, and I was on the knife-edge of another
