Page 75 of A Dish Best Served Hot

“So good.” He huffed out a breath when she rose up and slammed down again. He gripped her ass in both hands, but he didn’t try to direct her movements. He just held on.

Because his hands were otherwise occupied Lola touched her own breasts, palming and lifting them, flicking and squeezing her nipples. She moaned low in her throat and threw her head back, working her hips in small tight circles.

“Oh, Canela, look at you. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are like this, riding my dick, playing with your tits, and taking your pleasure?” He raised his head to lave the nipple she had pinched between her fingers. “Magnificent.”

She loved his voice. She loved the dirty and worshipful words coming out of him. She wanted to respond in kind, but she refused to have her thoughtless words ruin the moment again. Instead she just moaned, hissed, panted, cursed, and blasphemed.

Lola felt like she was the one in a glass case of emotion but hers was one of pleasure and it just kept filling.

“That’s it,” he urged her on. “Así. Cógelo.”

The pleasure built and built, causing cracks to appear all along the sides. Suddenly the pressure became too much. The glass case exploded. A pleasure so good it was painful rained down on her in shards that dug into every part of her body. She shook and jerked and was almost too far gone to realize that he’d also found release.

She slumped forward onto Saint’s chest then tried to roll off, cognizant of her size, but he didn’t let her.

“Stay right where you are,” he told her. “Don’t you dare move.”

She kissed his chest. “Does this mean you’re the boss now?”

“Yes. But don’t worry. I have no problem sharing the position.”

They went back and forth, taking turns being in control. After round four, in which Saint had put her on her hands and knees and made them both come so hard they shouted and then froze to see if they’d woken Rosie up, they both lay on their backs exhausted.

“I’ve been dying to ask you about your tattoos,” Saint said, running a finger along her clavicle where it said “si se puede” in calligraphy. That one was pretty self-explanatory, a popular rallying cry for Latine people protesting for their rights.

“Well, did you know that ‘si se puede’ began with Dolores Huerta, a labor leader, civil rights activist, cofounder of the National Farm Workers Association, and all-around badass woman?”

“I did, but I love hearing you talk about it.”

She turned her arm to show him her wrist. “These overlapping triangles represent my bisexuality.”

“I sort of figured that when I saw the pink, purple, and blue,” Saint said. He lifted her arm and placed a kiss on the line art silhouette of a woman with a raised fist. Below it was the wordEmpowerwith a fist as theP, the woman symbol as theO, and the equal sign as the lastE. “This one I also get. It’s your social justice warrior.”

“If you already understand, then why ask?”

“Because this is the first time I’ve seen this one fully.” He motioned to the colorful half sleeve that took up her right arm from shoulder to elbow. “And I had no idea the one on your back even existed.”

“I’ll tell you all about my tattoos as long as you tell me about the scar on your thigh.”

He grimaced. “I thought you hadn’t noticed that.”

“Are you serious? I notice everything about you.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of getting me to believe that you don’t love me.”

“I never said that I didn’t. I said that I’m not sure and don’t try to distract me from the scar.”

“You first,” he replied.

Lola lifted her arm and looked at the depiction of a beautiful woman’s head. One half of her face was painted in the Taíno style with a headband covered in Puerto Rican imagery and a Flor de Maga in her hair while the other half wore a feather headdress engraved with Mexican imagery and face paint that reflected the Aztec culture. “This is supposed to represent the two parts of me.” She showed her arm off to Saint. “Half Puerto Rican and half Mexican.”

He rolled them so he was on his back and Lola was half on top of him. He pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. “And all beautiful, badass, warrior woman.”

She liked that. She’d never thought of it like that before, but she could see it and she liked it. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He lifted his hand and traced his fingers along the tattoo on her shoulder blade.

Lola shivered.

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