Page 31 of Under His Sheets
“Alonso?” I whispered, and he nodded. He groaned around me, pulled me tighter to him, taking me deeper, and when I came, I bit my fist to keep from singing his praises.
He was kissing me a moment later, his tongue salty, his stubble wet, and he was noisy as he sucked and licked at my lips. Perhaps I’d discovered just what it took for him to lose control. The victory eased my worries that I somehow wouldn’t be enough—or would be too much—for him. He desired me, and that was what I should take from this encounter, especially since it might be some time until we could be together like this again.
I didn’t want to waste a moment.
He paused his kisses to catch his breath and he asked me if I needed anything.
“For this night to not end?”
He smiled sadly and ran a thumb over my lip.“I wish this as well. Let me hold you until the last possible second, when I must retire to the couch downstairs and pretend as if I had not been ravaged all night.”
“So I probably shouldn’t give you a big hickey,” I joked, and his eyes flared.
“Not where someone might see.”
I left a few marks on him, and him on me. We explored each other as much as two grown men—both pushing two hundred pounds—could in a twin bed in a house filled with people sleeping soundly.
Alonso’s phone alarm chirped at five AM when we were both on the verge of a second coming.
“You must come before the other cock crows,” he whispered, and I laughed, losing our rhythm, but I managed to keep hold of his cock, allowing him to reach his climax. His whole body shook and he gasped as his warmth filled my hand. I smiled a satisfied smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing me one last time. “I hate to leave you.”
“It’s okay,” I said, enjoying the show as he got dressed and I saw the love bites on his ass. When we returned to work Monday, I’d know they were there under his coveralls. It would help. A little. Maybe not. “I hope you get some rest today. I’m not sorry I kept you up.”
He bent over the bed one last time.“I’m only sorry I have to leave you.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? He had to leave, would have to keep his distance, for who knew how long.
My smile faltered, but then I took a Randall 2.0 breath. “I’m glad we had tonight.”
“We’ll have many more,” he said, kissing me once last time. When he reached the door, he turned to face me. “Count on that, Randall Sutter. I’m coming for you when this is over.”
I grinned and snuggled into the pillow we’d shared. “I can’t wait.”
It stung a bit, though, eating breakfast later that morning, watching Felip and Cecilia chatting happily about wedding plans with Mr. and Mrs. Segura, and Tomás and Mateu carrying on a lively conversation about going to see FC Barcelona play later in the week. All we could do was nudge each other’s toes under the table a few times and sneak adoring glances.
“Felip, you should come with us before you go back to California,” Tomás said, interrupting him.
“Ah, I don’t know…Cecilia?—”
“Wants you to get your fútbol fix in before you go back to California and complain about American football.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “Can I convince you to come with us?”
The brothers pleaded with her and she rolled her eyes.
“Only if Randall comes with me,” she said, dragging me into the deal.
“Excellent. Mateu, you can get us the box?”
“Sí, sí. Alonso, you coming?”
Alonso had been clearing the table around us and he turned to look at his brothers.“If I am able.”
Their enthusiasm waned a little but they continued to talk about the game, and Cecilia gave me a grateful look.
She signed thank you.
