“I…um… I’m…” Tristen stammered under the fierce look in Jimmy’s eyes.
Firm hands closed around his shoulders. Their strength gave Tristen courage. He took a calming breath, preparing to tell Jimmy…something. Since he wasn’t sure of the answer, he opened his mouth, ready wing it.
“We need to get cleaned up,” Santos interrupted, rubbing his hands up and down Tristen’s arms. “You and Tristen can have a nice visit once we are dry again.”
Now that Santos had mentioned getting dry, Tristen realized he was dripping water all over and had goose bumps covering his body.
Relief swept through Tristen when Santos didn’t give him a chance to say anything. In a flash, the man propelled him past Jimmy and through the French doors to his bedroom. He held in a chuckle at the look of astonishment that had covered his brother’s face when Santo had taken charge.
“You get in the shower, anjinho,” Santos ordered. “I will go out and get your bags from the car.”
Santos had his hand on the doorknob when Tristen said, “Santos.”
The big man paused and said, “Yes?”
“What does anjinho mean?” Tristen asked.
Two long strides had Santos’s hand buried in Tristen’s soaked hair, forcing him to lift his face. Firm lips covered his in a scorching kiss that made his toes curl. Tristen grasped onto Santos’s wide shoulders and opened his mouth to let the big man in. Santos’s talented tongue swept in and staked his claim. Way too soon for Tristen, Santos broke the kiss. He stared down into Tristen’s eyes for long moments before saying, “It means little angel.”
Santos let him go and left. It was all Tristen could do not to slide to the floor in a limp heap. At every turn, the man was frying his brains with hot kisses and keeping him off balance with words and actions. Shaking his head to try and get his muddled brain working, Tristen made his way into the shower.
Later, Tristen sighed. In his imagination, he was on his knees with Santos’s hard cock in his mouth, not holding a towel while wiping up the puddles of pool water from the bedroom floor.
From the corner, Sadie watched. “I’m telling you, Sadie, life never goes the way you think it’s going to. You’d better stick to chew bones and Alpo.” Sadie’s tail thumped against the doggie bed she was lying on.
“Are you ready to go to supper, anjinho?” Santos asked, striding out of the bathroom in fresh jeans and a body-hugging dark brown T-shirt. His still-damp midnight hair was combed up and away from his face.
A whiff of soap and Santos’s own unique musky scent flowed over Tristen. He took a second to kneel there and enjoy it.
Tristen’s eyes popped open when hands encircled his waist and Santos lifted him in the air. “Santos, what are you doing?”
“Enough daydreaming,” Santos said, slinging Tristen onto his shoulder. “I’m hungry.”
“Put me down,” Tristen ordered, slapping Santos’s hard-as-a-rock butt cheek.
Tristen’s ass cheek bloomed in pain when Santos’s hand came down on it. “Hey,” he objected. Santos rubbed the offending spot, making the heat of pain turn into a heat of desire.
“Quiet down, anjinho,” Santos said, opening the bedroom door. “We need to get going. Garrett gives those who are late cold food.”
“Please, put me down,” Tristen pleaded. “I can walk into the kitchen.”
Santos stopped and let Tristen slide down his body to the floor. Tristen looked up, needing something from Santos but not knowing what it was.
“Ah, amorzinho.” Santos brushed Tristen’s hair away from his face before cupping his cheek. “It is hard dealing with feelings that are new. I promise you we will get through them together.”
Santos lowered his head and sealed their lips. Tristen melted into Santos’s big body as the man took the kiss deeper. This is what Tristen needed. Tongues slid together, tasting, feeling, and connecting.
Tristen’s mouth was wet and burning by the time Santos lifted his head and smiled. “It will be fine,” he assured Tristen. “I won’t leave your side.”
“How did you know I was nervous about seeing everyone again? Tristen asked.
Santos shrugged one wide shoulder. “Your walls of flirting are no longer needed because you are now with me. It makes sense that it would take time for you to get used to not hiding behind them.”
Tristen was speechless at Santos’s declaration. He didn’t even object when Santos slung a heavy arm over his shoulders and guided him out of the room.
They were almost to the kitchen when Tristen found his voice and skidded to a stop. “Are you saying I’m with you, as we are together? Like a couple?”
Tristen waited. If the big guy hesitated or looked uncomfortable, he was so out of there. He wasn’t sure he could recover if he let himself become vulnerable to Santos and the Brazilian stomped on his heart.
“We’ve been together for weeks now,” Santos answered. “You ran away before I could let you know about it.”
For the second time in minutes, Tristen was rendered speechless. In a daze, he let Santos guide him to the kitchen with Sadie right behind them.
By the time Santos had collected some dry tinder and had a fire going, Tristen’s face was flushed and his bottom jaw was thrust forward while his lips were scrunched together. Those beautiful eyes that before had been pleading and reminding Santos of a puppy now were flashing with anger. Good, Santos was ready for a heated discussion.
Centering his good foot under him, Tristen stood up, using only one leg. After resting the cumbersome plastic boot on the ground, Tristen stood there, seeming to measure the distance between him and Blue. Santos was actually surprised the feisty man had lasted so long.
“Do not even think about walking on that foot,” Santos warned.
“I’m going back to the hacienda,” Tristen stated, flipping his hair back over his shoulder.
Spine straight and with his head thrown back, Santos stalked over to the blanket, not stopping until he was standing in front of Tristen. Widening his legs, Santos put his hands on his hips and looked down at the smaller man.
“Don’t you dare look down your nose at me, Santos Ebarize,” Tristen said. “You may be huge, muscled, and gorgeous, and way out of my league, but I’ll have you know, some people think I’m, I’m… I’m something.”
Just like that, the anger that was ready to explode drained away. He swept Tristen up before laying him on the blanket and following him down.
“You are something, all right,” Santos said. Smiling, he placed a soft kiss on the corner of Tristen’s mouth. “You are mine, and it is time you understand and acknowledge it.” Santos kissed the other corner of Tristen’s mouth.
“You confuse me,” Tristen confessed. “I’m staying in your room, but you’ve done nothing more than kiss me. You said we were dating and a couple, but it doesn’t feel like it.”
Santos studied Tristen, taking in his long, silky hair the color of sunshine. Thick black lashes surrounded wide hazel eyes. His skin was a golden tan from hours spent out in the sun, and his lips were red and plump from his straight white teeth chewing on them.
And then it hit Santos. Often he thought of Tristen as an incubus. And in a way he was. For Tristen, it was all about the physical connection. Santos smirked. The man hadn’t realized that, since he had come back to the hacienda, Santos had been laying a solid foundation for their relationship in Tristen’s mind. He had started with teaching Tristen learning to trust him in the pool.
“Be prepared to feel like a couple in every way from now on, my querida,” Santos said.
Leaning down, Santos covered Tristen’s lips with his. He wasted no time and started thrusting his tongue inside, mimicking what he was going to do to Tristen’s ass. Tristen never missed a beat and opened for him, accepting his dominance.
Keeping their mouths connected, Santos reached under Tristen and grabbed the back of his shorts, intending to pull them down.
Tristen pulled his mouth away and said, “Wait.” Quickly he opened his shorts.
Santos pulled until the shorts were lying in a heap on the end of the blanket. He reached for the bottom of Tristen’s shirt but was stopped by two hands on his wrists.
“I’ll take it off,” Tristen said before pulling the shirt up and over his head.
Santos’s eyes locked on Tristen’s pale tan nipples adorning a slim, hairless chest. It didn’t take him long to have one nip pulled into his mouth. Tristen’s skin had a slightly salty taste from the heat of the day, but that didn’t distract from unique musk and strawberry taste. Santos was getting used to his shower always carrying the faint smell of Tristen’s strawberry body wash.
Sucking on the nip hard, Santos enjoyed the sight of Tristen arching his back and crying out. Letting the pebble-hard nip go, he licked it with the flat of his tongue and watched the muscles of Tristen’s belly ripple.
Switching to the other nipple, Santos nibbled and licked until it was deep red.
“Santos, jeez…. Please,” Tristen babbled. Blunt fingernails dug into Santos’s shoulders.
With his tongue, Santos followed the thin pale treasure trove of hairs leading from Tristen’s belly button down to the neatly trimmed thatch of light brown hair surrounding a slim, long prick. He sucked that sweet prick in all the way until his beard mixed in with the hair on Tristen’s groin. Fingers grabbed Santos’s hair, and Tristen’s moan filled the air.
Santos kept his eyes open, watching Tristen’s hair cascade around the sexy man’s shoulders when he tossed his head back and groaned. The man took a deep breath through his nose before he tipped his head back down and looked at Santos with heavy-lidded eyes. The sight of Tristen’s tongue peeking out and wetting his puffy, trembling lower lip had excited shivers racing up Santos’s spine.
Primitive instincts of possession, dominance, conquer, and claim surged through Santos, demanding that he act on his needs. He released Tristen’s dick, letting it bob against the man’s taut belly. Rearing up onto his knees, Santos ripped open his jeans and pulled out his cock. Keeping his gaze on the sexy siren before him, Santos put on a show of stroking off his iron-hard length.
When his balls drew up, scraping against the sides of the opening of his jeans, Santos was ready to fuck. He moved on his knees toward Tristen. The fact that he’d kept his jeans and boots on spurred on his need to take what he had decided was his.
Tristen’s eyes widened, and he sat up. When Santos moved, Tristen bent his knees and started scrambling backward. “Lube and condoms, Santos,” Tristen yelled.
Pausing, Santos reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tube of slick and a condom. He tossed the slick at Tristen and kept the condom.
In no mood to take any more time than necessary, Santos ordered, “Get yourself ready.”