“Sim. We ride today and then there’s a good hotel tonight, huh?”
Something that all the guys weren’t at.
“I like it.” Slapping his hand on his leg, Balta stood. “I’ll find the man with the bill.”
“I will put the tip.” He put a five-dollar bill on the table and slid from the booth, shoulders popping.
By the time he had gone to the bathroom and all, Balta was back in the truck. The cooler was in the backseat of the king cab.
And Balta was there.
Right there.
Big and fine and close and so male.
Not to mention the fact that now Balta could reach out and touch his thigh while he drove. So distracting. His leg bounced with every touch. Every one.
“Are you hurting?”
“Hurting? No. No.”
“Oh. So this is a good ache?” Balta’s fingers slid sideways, the pinky touching his cock.
“Balta!” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“It is, then.” Chuckling, Balta sat back, allowing him to breathe. “I like your reaction,doce.”
His cheeks burned, his body tight. “Balta, we must be good.” Right?
“Why? There is nobody here but us.” Balta seemed so innocent, and a little hurt.
“But I… The things you make me feel, Balta.”
“We should explore them,sim? A lot.”
“Balta… You are a demon.”
“I am. I told you I was not a nice man.” The sound of Balta’s button and zipper opening was loud. Very loud.
Oh,Deus. What was? “Balta?”
“Hmm?” Balta glanced over, smile melting hot, eyelashes almost hiding those gleaming eyes.
“What are you doing?” They were in a truck. His truck.
“We didn’t get to, this morning. I told you, I am feeling very good.” Laughing, Balta started moving, arm swinging up and down.
Joa didn’t know what to do, where to look. Okay, driving. He was driving. He wasn’t a child—he’d heard menbate caixetain the darkness in the hotel room. But not in a truck.
In daylight.
On a Sunday.
“Are you unhappy, Joa? I am not.” Balta’s voice had gone deep, rough.
He could smell Balta’s skin, hot and musky.
“No. No, Balta.” No, unhappy was not what he was.
