“I hadn’t planned on doing anything other than stay here for the summer,” Marcos admits. “Max will be back and forth a bit for training camp between here and Detroit, and we’ve got the lease on the apartment through December.”
“Are you going with Max to Detroit in the fall?”
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, mouth moving against my hair like he’s pressing his face to the top of my head.
Butterflies wake up and start flitting lazily through my stomach. Maybe if I was playing in the NHL, like Max, I wouldn’t mind living in a place like Detroit, but it’s not the kind of place people like me would choose. I need open spaces and grass; blue sky that isn’t broken up by high-rise buildings. I need to be able to walk outside and breathe in fresh air, not exhaust fumes. I need a fucking horse.
The desire to get Marcos out to the ranch is so strong I feel almost sick with it. I need to show him why I love it—why he could love it.
“Please come,” I whisper into his neck. “Even if it’s just for a visit.”
“I will,” he says without thinking, voice firm even with a slight tinge of surprise.
“Really?” I want him to promise. I want to grab my phoneand start making concrete plans with dates, times, and flight tickets booked.
“Really,” Marcos agrees, but clarifies, “Would we stay there, then? At your uncle’s house?”
Reluctantly, I lift my head away from the warm pocket of skin between his neck and shoulder. His pretty brown eyes find mine immediately. I kiss him, tongue invading his mouth and a hand diving into his hair to keep his face still. He laughs into my mouth when I rock my pelvis, sliding my dick against his hip. Maybe we should table the talking and have sex again.
“Really?” he asks on another laugh. The happy expression on his face winds me up even further and I crawl back on top of him. His hands move to cup my ribs and his back bows as his own dick starts to perk back up.
“I’ll be quick,” I promise, before reaching a hand between us. He’s smiling as I kiss him.
HadI known we’d be refueling after a couple epic orgasms, I’d have ordered more sushi. Sitting half naked and cross-legged on my bed, we spread out the now room temperature food. Marcos is seated across from me, but close enough that all I’d have to do is lean forward and stretch my neck if I wanted to kiss him. I want to hoover my way through this food so we can hopefully get back to the snuggling portion of the night’s events. It could be months before cuddly Marcos makes another appearance.
“To answer your question from before?—”
“From before you got horny,” Marcos fills in, lips twitching.
“Any horniness on my part is completely your fault,” I tell him around a mouthful of crab rangoon.
“What did I do?”
“Exist.”
He snorts and shakes his head, reaching over and snagging a rangoon off of the tray in front of me. Unlike he usually does, he left the majority of his clothes off and is sitting here in only boxers. I watch him hungrily, drinking my fill of brown skin and dark hair. There’s a mark on the side of his hip I’ve never noticed before—a tiny birthmark, lighter in color than the rest of him.
“Nate?”
I look up. “Sorry. Got distracted by this.” Leaning forward, I press my finger to the mark, completely obscuring it. “It looks like a strawberry. Or maybe a?—"
“—acorn?” he fills in, looking down. “My abuela used to call me and Max her chicos de otoño. I don’t think I ever heard her use Max’s name. He was always zorro, because of his hair.”
“Zorro?” I repeat.
“Fox,” he clarifies, and steals another of my rangoons. I push them closer to his side of the food spread. “So, your uncle’s…?”
“Right, to answer your question from before. Yes, we’ll be at my uncle’s, technically. But it’s not what you’re thinking. We don’t all live in the same house or anything—it’s a ton of land and we’re all sort of…” I spread my hands to mimic an explosion. “Last year, my uncle converted the loft above his horse barn into an apartment, so that’s where I live now.”
Marcos’ eyebrows scrunch together as he thinks. “Who all is there?”
“Oh, sorry. The hands and seasonal workers. But they don’t live at the main house, they have their own space.”
“And your uncle?”
“My mom’s brother. Well, one of her brothers. Me and Uncle Jes are really close. I spent more time with him than with my parents, growing up. His ranch has always been home.”
He smiles at that. “That’s pretty cool that he wants you to take over his business.”
