“You’re avoiding my question.”
My fingers itch to touch her curls. To pull against the knot of her hair and drag her lips toward mine. Wanting to feel their pillowy softness.
“I am.”
She doesn’t give. Doesn’t budge on why she can’t date Em and eventually me. Both of us.
“Tell me.”
My hand moves to touch her arm. She watches it as if in slow motion. I wait for her to flinch or step back again. She does neither. When my fingertips brush the back of her arm, it is the softest fucking thing in the world. My cock stiffens. I stifle a groan.
“Because men only take. Take my money, my time, my energy, and mi todo.”
“Boys take. Men give.”
My claim falls hard and fast, opposite of my light grasp on her arm. Wanting to yank her toward me and show what I want to give her. But I managed to restrain myself.
“Papito, what do you know about men? You’re a boy yourself. Your brother too.”
Her hand rises to my chest. Burns into my flesh underneath my thin T-shirt. Her face turns up toward mine. With her touching me and me touching her, it’s like a current of energy. Electricity flows through my body. Buzzes all my important parts like my cock and balls. Even my nipples are on fire from her touch.
“My brother and I know a lot about women. Know how to treat them. Take care of them. Fuck them.”
It’s out there. Hinting at the sharing that is either a curious ‘yes’ or a firm ‘no’. We’ve gotten both. Some just take more convincing than others. All leave sore and happy the next morning.
She exhales. Her breath is a caress against my face. Her eyes are wide. Mouth open. She doesn’t break contact, nor do I. Both locked in on each other, while the idea sinks deeper into her mind. Into the realm of possibilities, if I’m lucky.
“You said it yourself. We are spoiled. We won’t need your money. We’d like your time. As for energy.”
This time, I do pull her toward me. Plant my other hand at her narrow waist and feel how far it flares into her wide hips. I groan, letting her know how fucking sexy I think she is. Her fingers curl into a fist, balling my shirt fabric in it.
“You’d just lie there like a fucking pillow princess. We’ll do all the work. We’ll give you everything.”
Promises I intend to keep.
With Em hurt and her a nurse, she can advise us how he can safely fuck. I’ve already thought of that. About a million fucking times. When she’s bent over his bed messing with something, and her juicy ass is in my face. Hell, I’m going to put on a damn snorkel mask and dive right in if she says yes.
But she’s silent except for licking her lips. A sign she’s attracted, contemplating it. Then she suddenly smacks my chest and takes several steps back. As if the haze of possibility has cleared.
“You play too much.”
She gives me one more look. Lingering and curious.
“You’d like to play. Admit it. Sandwiched between two hot as fuck guys. We wouldn’t hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re strong, like raging bulls sort of thing, but we’d only make you happy. Give you tons of orgasms.”
Em and I would never lay hands on a woman. Chicks worry about that sort of shit. I get how fucked up it is, but she’s not the first to be worried about being double penetrated.
“I’m not worried about mi papito and nene. At least, not in that way.”
Good.
One hurdle cleared.
“Then what is it?”
She grabs the pen stabbed into her hair bun and starts clicking the top. Nervous, I’d guess if she wasn’t staring me down. As if she could take me on. I don’t doubt she’d be feisty as hell in bed. All the more fun.
“You don’t want me in trouble, Papito? Then keep your distance.”
