Chapter Seven
Some days it was so hard to be new on the tour.Merda, some days it was hard to be in America.
Raul sighed, trying to remember enough English to make the girl behind the desk at the hotel understand that he wanted to pay for a room on his own. Eduardo and Xavier were perfectly nice men, but Raul wanted to… Well, he wanted to touch hiscaralho, not to put too fine a point on it. He wanted to have some privacy.
He’d come in third in the round last night, and he had enough money to upgrade for one night, not to have to share.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Raul wanted to pound his fist against the counter, wanted to rant and rave in Portuguese, but he knew better. He was the one who had come to the US, right? He was the one who needed to learn English. He understood more than he could say. Sometimes, he could just not make his mouth form the sounds.
He was about to smile and wave her off and say some kind ofnao importawhen Joaquim walked up, carrying his duffel and a pair of starched shirts.
“Boa noite, Raul.” Joaquim nodded to him, that sharp face splitting into a beautiful smile.
“Ola, Joa.” Raul grinned back, because he had to. He liked Joa very much. Probablytoomuch, considering that Joaquim was the very reason he wanted a private room.
“What’s wrong?” Joa’s Portuguese was formal sometimes, maybe a touch stilted, but it was still plenty good, and it was such a relief to have someone who could understand him.
“I want my own room tonight. I have money.” He spread his hands. “She doesn’t hear me.”
“Ah.” Joaquim reached out to hand Raul the shirts on their hangers. “You want to pay cash?”
“Sim, if I can.”
“I will talk to her.” Turning to the girl, Joa launched into a spate of heavily drawled English that Raul only caught maybe three words of. The little lady started to flutter, the way girls always did when Joa grinned at them, but she started tapping keys, nodding every so many words.
She and Joa had a long discussion, and finally Joa turned back to Raul. “She says she has a room with one king bed for eighty-nine dollars.”
“There has not been smoking?”
“Nope.”
“Then I would like it.” Raul pulled a hundred out of his wallet.
Joaquim took it, helped him fill out the registration, and handled the rest of the talking. All Raul had to do was stand back and watch, and he was very good at that. He’d always hesitated to spend too much time with Joa, because Baltazar Silva had something of a monopoly there, but watching? That he was an expert at.
“We never see you at the pool after the ride, Raul,” Joa said, when Raul finally had his key card. “You should come swim with us.”
“Us?” They turned toward the elevators, Raul handing Joa’s shirts back to him. Though they honestly looked too large for Joa.
“Me and Balta. Maybe Eduardo. Coke and Dillon.”
“Ah.” He liked Coke. The man was kind, and the best bullfighter Raul had ever seen. Dillon he liked to dance with. Still, he didn’t think he could go see Joa at the pool, wearing nothing but swim trunks, without stopping by his room first. “Maybe in a little while.”
“I would like that.”
Raul’s cheeks heated and he ducked his head, pushing the elevator call button. The doors opened, and he and Joa rubbed shoulders stepping on, which made his heart pound.Estupido.
“I would, too. What floor?”
“Four, please.”
Raul was on six. That was good, Very good. He would not be tempted to follow Joa to his room, or something even more idiotic.
They parted ways when Joa left him on the fourth floor, Joa offering him a smile and a wave and another invitation to come swimming. Raul went to his room, the big bed begging him to take off his riding clothes and slip between the sheets, which was just what he did, letting everything fall away.
He took some of the tissues from the bath vanity with him to the bed, moving slowly and deliberately. All he had to do was think of Joa while he put his hand on his dick, and soon he was grunting, grabbing the tissues and catching his come with them, just to keep the bed clean.
Staring at the ceiling, Raul chuckled, a month of tension leaking out of him with his orgasm. Maybe he would go swim, maybe ask the great Balta for an English lesson.
It was hard being the newest Brazilian on tour. But with people like Joa there to support him, it got easier every day.
