“I missed you, huh?” That grin was famous in the world of bull riding, wide and happy and for him? Utterly guileless.
Joa chuckled, nodded, finishing his drink. “Come on—you’ve got to be cold, yeah?” Hell, he was cold and he’d been in Texas since he was four. Balta wasn’t nearly as used to it.
One blunt finger rubbed over his nipple. “You’re the cold one,namorado. Come inside. We’ll take a shower.” Balta was a water baby, loving a shower or a bath or a pool. Day or night.
His nipple went hard, tight enough that it ached, deep in his belly.
“You ready?” Now Balta’s grin took on a glint of the pure devil, the man turning and heading inside. The robe should have been a terrible turn-off. It wasn’t.
They were on the first floor, three doors down from Dillon and Nate, two doors over from Xavier and Renaldo. They didn’t have to be too quiet, too still. Too careful. Lord, forgive him.
They got the hotel door open, got the deadlock turned. Balta turned, pressing him against the door, big hands dragging at his sweats. So fast, and just that quickly, he wasn’t cold anymore.
“Balta.” He arched, pushing into those hands, cock filling up and reaching for the one it wanted.
“Yes?” Full of laughter and want, Balta’s voice taunted him, going deep and rough. It was Balta’s hands, though, that made him moan, made him shake. They traced his chest, his abs, going behind him to cup his ass.
“Vocí é o diabo.” The devil, bone deep. The Portuguese didn’t come as easily to him as some.
Chuckling, Balta nibbled at his neck, licking up to his chin. “You think so? I think I just want you.”
“I think so.” His skin tingled, waking up for Balta’s lips.
“What does that make you?Um anjo?” An angel? Him?
“No. No, I’m not close.” Still, it pleased him, that Balta would think so.
“My angel, hmm?” Such hot kisses. Like too hotcafezinho. They burned his lips, his tongue, making him want such things.
His body stiffened, and he grabbed onto those broad, strong shoulders. His hips rocked, rubbing against Balta’s thigh. One leg pushed between his, lifting him up, giving him some friction. Sharp teeth closed on his earlobe, tugging. Balta’s breath hot and good. Heat flooded him, and he gave a cry, a little jerk.
His hands found the ratty fabric of Balta’s bathrobe, pushing at it, and they were bare together, the hair on Balta’s chest rasping at him. Balta’s cock rubbed his belly, filling up and burning against his skin. One hand cupped his ass, the other coming between them to pull their cocks together, lifting him up. Everything in him went hard and tight, his breath hitching in his chest.
So fast, so fast off the mark every time. Joaquim gasped, tongue sliding against Balta’s.
Stroking hard, Balta got them going, got them humping together, that hard body holding him up against the wall. The man’s big, square hand worked them both, the calluses rubbing him madly. He squeezed Balta’s shoulder as his lips wrapped around Balta’s tongue, sucking good and hard. The moan vibrated in Balta’s chest, moving it against him, his nipples going even tighter. Balta made him crazy, made him desire everything, all at once.
Balta gave it to him, too, sometimes more than he knew to need. Lord.Dios.
Rocking, pulling, Balta demanded his response, giving and taking, bruising him with lips and tongue and hard fingers. Their cocks slid together, wet, making a crazy noise.
He shot hard enough that his knees buckled, the tension and pressure leaving him with a pop.
“Doce!” Balta stared into his eyes, face set in hard lines, body moving fast and heavy against his. Then Balta’s seed joined his, spattering against his belly.
Joaquim blinked, staring, loving the way Balta’s eyes held him. “Yours.”
“Meus anjo,” Balta agreed, taking another kiss, laughing with what seemed like sheer joy. “Come bathe with me, huh?”
“Si. Si, Baltazar.” He nodded. Water. Soap. Touching. Then they would pile into the bed and find sleep.
The moon couldn’t compete with Balta. Not even a little.
His demon made everything else go away.
