God, I don’t think it was ever like this before. The man was hell-bent on giving me pleasure before, but this, this is something altogether different.
“Jesus, Tin,” he whispers, his mouth finally releasing me from its power as he kisses the inside of each thigh. “I told myself I wasn’t going to. I was going to give you what you need.”
He pulls back, hands immediately going to the zipper of his jeans, making another thrill run through my entire body, the tingle so forceful the muscles along my spine begin to ache with the effort.
“Yes,” I say, the plea clear in my voice.
I reach for him, wrapping my hands around his length before he can get his jeans all the way down his muscular thighs.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
His head leans back, eyes pointed to the ceiling as I stroke down him, trying to recall if it’s just been too long and my memory is faded or if he’s possibly bigger than he was before.
“Tin, goddammit.” Then his head snaps forward, eyes drawing me in before hot spurts of cum hit my belly.
He groans, his eyes going a little unfocused as a small smile plays on my lips.
“Wow,” I murmur when he finally breaks eye contact.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“If you say we shouldn’t have done that, I’ll strangle you,” I hiss as I release his cock.
He huffs a humorless laugh. “No way. I was going to apologize for coming so fucking fast, but going by the pleased look on your face…”
I can’t help the smile that spreads. I wanted him inside of me, but I think things worked out perfectly. Taking that step with him again isn’t something I had time to consider the consequences of, but knowing he was so hot for me it took just a few strokes of my hands to help him find his release makes pride swell in my chest.
“You used to last longer,” I tease as I look down at the mess on my stomach.
“It’s been—I—let me get you a washcloth.”
He disappears into the bathroom, coming back with his jeans zipped up. He’s no longer smiling, and instead of wiping away his orgasm like he’s done before, he hands over the washcloth before finding his shirt and pulling it back over his head.
He takes the washcloth from my hand, trading it for my own pile of clothes, the order to get dressed in the action.
I’m feeling vulnerable again, the promise that I made to myself that I wouldn’t regret what we did creeping in and making a liar out of me in less than an hour.
We don’t speak as he climbs back in bed. I don’t try to move away when he pulls me back to his chest, but the action seems more forced than it was before.
Eventually, I fall asleep with a million questions pinging around in my head. I don’t know what to do about him, or the house, or my mother’s death. I don’t know how this day will affect Alex or what I can do to make my brother see reason.
But some of those questions are answered when I wake up alone and find Ignacio asleep on the couch. As much as I could focus on the pain that settles into my bones from that situation alone, I have too much other stuff on my plate to give it a second thought.
Chapter 21
Ignacio
Things are different the second I meet Tinley’s eyes in the morning.
Regret. Anger. Hatred.
It’s all there on her pretty face when she comes into the living room. I somehow managed to sleep through her getting her bag from the other room and going back to mine to shower.
Alex, unaware of the tension in the air, watches television while waiting for room service to deliver breakfast as Tinley actively avoids my eyes.
I hated not waking up to her in my arms, but when I went to check on Alex after she fell asleep, she was starfished on the bed, her tiny body somehow taking up space nearly to all four corners. Knowing she needed her rest, I crashed on the couch, waking up with a rock-hard cock and a twinge in my neck. I’m sure she has the ability to work out both for me, but the nasty look I got warned me to not even ask.
God, the way we were last night. We didn’t even have sex, and I can easily rank it as my number one top sexual experience. I should probably regret it, should focus on the lies she’s told me, but there’s no way. Her coming apart against my mouth… If my son wasn’t in the room right now, even despite her attitude, I’d throw her chef kisses and ask when she’s serving lunch.
I cough, clearing my throat when she walks in, her jeans hugging her ass like a second skin. I don’t regret my son. I haven’t for a single second since I found out about him, but I’d give my retirement account just for five minutes alone with his mother in this moment, knowing it would take mere minutes to make her get over her attitude, make her realize just how good we are together. Two minutes to get my cock inside of her is all I’d need.
“I’m going to take an Uber to the funeral home,” she says, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks.
She’s dealing with so much shit, and I’m wondering when I’ll get to put my mouth on her tits. I’m the biggest asshole that’s ever walked the earth.
I didn’t forget about Brooke’s passing, the pain of the loss was clear in Alex’s eyes when he lumbered into the living room thirty minutes ago. I just let my mind wander to my own needs, and that’s a total dick move.
“We can go together,” I offer. “Breakfast is on the way up.”
I don’t miss the way she avoids looking at me.
“I need to go alone,” she says. “Can Alex stay here with you?”
This makes the second time she’s asked me to be responsible for him, and I’d take joy in that if it weren’t for the fact that both times, the first at his baseball game when she got the call about her mom and again now, she’s simply asking out of necessity.
“He can.” I stand, reaching into my pocket. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”
Her eyes dart to Alex, and I understand. Hashing out final details with the funeral home isn’t something she wants him to experience.
“Ok,” I agree. “But take the truck so you don’t have to wait for a ride.”
She takes the keys when I offer them, and I use the opportunity to run my thumb over the back of her hand. She doesn’t respond the way I want. She simply pulls the keys away and heads over to Alex. She whispers softly to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead and leaving the suite.
There’s a finality to the sound of the door closing behind her, as if the door is a wall she’s just firmly locked back in place. It screams I regret it, it’ll never happen again, you took advantage of me when I was weak.
I get the message loud and fucking clear.
Alex, thankfully, is ignorant to what happened last night and what just happened, and for that I’m grateful. Now I can only hope that Tinley doesn’t use the latest mistake of mine to make my son withdraw from the relationship we’ve been working on.
Alex eats breakfast in a nearly catatonic state, muscle memory making his fork shovel food into his mouth as his eyes stay locked on the television. The sound isn’t even on, but it’s as if he doesn’t notice.
I sit with him in silence, not tasting the eggs and toast I ordered for myself.
I’m so out my element right now. I don’t know what to say to make things better. I don’t know that there’s actually anything I could tell him that would set him at ease a little, so I don’t even try. The last thing I want is his anger, and I know it’s bottled up inside of him waiting for an outlet. I know he needs to release it, but I’m a selfish bastard, not wanting it to be directed at me. The tenuous bond we’ve built could be shattered with a few hate-filled words, and I’m not willing to risk it right now, not with the look on Tinley’s face when she left. If he told her he never wanted to see me again, I don’t know that she would defend me at this point.