“It’s nice to meet you,” he says warmly, his accent thicker than I expected. “Welcome to our home. We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Leave her alone, papa,” Juliana teases, stepping in to give me a hug. “Merry Christmas Eve. You’re just in time to decorate cookies.” She whispers, “I’m so glad you came,” into my ear as she gives me a squeeze, then tugs her two waving friends away to let me breathe.
“I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. I know that’s rude, especially on Christmas, but…” I glance back at Eli, melting a little when I see how happy he looks. “I guess I couldn’t stay away.”
His dimples are on full display as he pulls me closer, and when his dad responds I can’t stop my gaze from snapping to him. “Because you love him too.”
“Pa,” Eli mutters shyly, rattling something off in Spanish where I pick up the words “leave her alone” and nothing else, but whatever it is has his dad holding up his hands in surrender and backing away with a laugh.
“I’m very happy to meet you. Our home is your home.”
He disappears into the kitchen with the others, and Eli grips my chin for another kiss. “Will your family be that annoying too?”
“Probably worse,” I admit. “You told your dad you love me?”
“Honestly… he told me. I mean, I already knew, but I think he saw himself in me and knew I had lostthe onelike he did. Turns out he did love my mom, but that’s a whole conversation for later. I don’t want to be him. I don’t want a sport to be my life… I want it to be you. I looked up investigative journalism, and I know you’ll be traveling a lot, but I’m ready to follow you all over the world, cupcake. Be my home and I’ll never need anything else.”
Whoa.
The admission makes me a little lightheaded, but I can’t say I never thought about it. He is a photographer after all, so we could work together if it came to it.
But god, it seems fast to agree to that.
“That would be amazing,” I say softly. “But maybe for now, we take things slow? I want to do things right.”
“Whatever you want, baby. Does that mean sex is off the table for now?”
He looks nervous to ask that after what we’ve been through, but I’m just proud that he asked instead of assuming.
Biting my lip, I slide my hand down his chest. “Not that slow. Do you think they’ll be busy for a while?”
Feeling his body tense under my touch only spurs me on further, excitement flashing in his eyes as he glances between the kitchen and the stairs. “For sure. Want a tour of just my bedroom? Specifically the bed.”
“You had me at bedroom. Lead the way.”
Should I feel bad about this? Probably. It’s Christmas and I’m about to disrespect him and his bedroom with his whole family present. Do I feel bad? Not at all.
“So this is the living room, that’s the kitchen,” he’s pointing rapidly to put on a show, his family rolling their eyes like they know exactly what he’s doing, but it’s his fault. Elias is anything but slick.
He takes my hand and tugs me up the stairs, dropping the act the second we’re out of eyesight and he can lift me up off the floor without an audience. “Now I’ll show you the best room in the house.”
I couldn’t care less about the room when every kiss feels different. There are no secrets between us now, no videos hanging over my head, no threats or coercions. Just two people who waded through a shitstorm and somehow came out the other side.
“Let me guess, the walls are covered in soccer posters and you don’t have a sheet on your bed,” I laugh, kissing him before he can answer. “And something tells me you have a lava lamp.”
“So judgy,” he growls, his tongue sliding into my mouth roughly like the sweetest punishment. “I have a bottom sheet, one signed Lionel Messi jersey on the wall from when he was with Barcelona, and no lava lamp… but I do have a beanbag chair that looks like a soccer ball. Want me to eat your pussy on it?”
He nips my jaw like the mental image that produced wasn’t slightly revolting. “No, Elias. I don’t want that. You can eat my pussy on your bottom sheet, though. Anywhere but there.”
“Come on, cupcake.” He kicks the door closed behind him and fumbles with the lock. “Fine, I don’t really care where I eat you because I’m just happy I can.”
Eli tosses me on the bed and throws his adorable sweater vest aside, and for once, I don’t wait for him to undress me. I strip so quickly you’d think I was the athlete, leaving my clothes in a pile on the otherwise clean floor.
I have to give him a little bit of props — while the soccer aesthetic isn’t my thing, his room looks a lot nicer than most guys his age.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he admits, climbing onto the bed to crash his mouth with mine, and feeling him maneuver my body around with ease gets me so wet I’m panting by the time he breaks the kiss. “Think you can keep it down, baby?”
Slowly, he trails his tongue all the way down my body, circling each of my nipples before he’s lowering further.