by Mj Fields
Once at the bottom, the guide begins his spiel. “The word cenotes comes from the Mayan word ‘ts’onot’—sacred well. Here in the Yucatan Peninsula, there are over six thousand. Over many, many years, the rain washed away the limestone, and cenotes formed. The waters are either fresh or salt, and there is no rhyme or reason for this. Look at how pristine it is.
“lk Kil is a fresh water cenote. Scientifically, the water has been proven to be rich in nutrients and an excellent source of vitamins, mineral, and protein that nourishes the body. After swimming in this very spot, thousands have experienced feeling a surge of energy, taking the stairs up quicker than they were able to come down them. People with mental health issues have been known to feel its soul-changing and mind-altering effects like this.” He snaps his fingers. “For the lovers amongst us, the water is said to bless your love. For those married, it is said to bring harmony to your marriage. For all of us, it brings a spirit of kindness and gratitude.” He looks at all of us. “If you’d like to swim, feel free.”
“We didn’t bring suits,” Brisa tells him.
“Do we need them?” Tris asks with a tone that I would have expected from Brisa, not her.
The guide whispers, “Your tour is private. I won’t tell if you don’t—”
“You bitch!” Brisa yells, laughing as Tris pushes her into the water.
My heart starts racing and, without thought, I toe off my hiking sneakers, readying to jump in if need be.
“Takes one to—” Tris gasps then screams, “Nooooo!” when Matteo pushes her in, laughing as he pulls off his shirt, kicks off his shoes, and then jumps in.
Brisa surfaces, laughing and coughing out, “Tris, I’m going to drown you.”
“Jesus Christ,” I seethe as I toss off my shirt and shoes then jump in, too.
“Don’t worry,” the guide calls to us. “The crocodiles only come out at night and—”
“What?” Tris screeches.
Matteo laughs as he swims toward her.
She splashes him. “You stay away from me.”
“Impossible,” he says, grabbing her.
“I joke, I joke!” The guide laughs. “No crocodile sightings in any cenotes. Just an alligator named Panchito at Casa Cenote. None here. Snorkel?”
“Yes!” Brisa and Tris yell at the same time.
The water is beautiful, but healing? I think not. Might have enjoyed it if not for the fact I’m in jeans.
Brisa is the first out of the water. She wrings her hair out and walks over to where she left her camera bag. Then she takes a million pictures.
I can see every part of Brisa’s tits, including nipples, under her soaked white shirt, which happens to be over a white bra.
I offer my shirt to Tris first, as to not seem so damn obvious, but Matteo slips his over her head.
I walk over to Brisa and hold my black tee out to her.
“Thanks, I’m good.”
“I’m going to have to insist.”
She sticks her nose in the air and huffs as she walks past me.
“Brisa, put the shirt on. You can see your tits through that flimsy shirt.”
Not slowing down, she shakes her head. “They’re great tits. I have nothing to hide.”
She’s not fucking wrong, but this shit isn’t happening.
“It’s a security issue. Take the shirt.”
Securing the next breath of any motherfucker who looks at what’s mi—yours.
She looks back. “Why is it a—”
“There are probably a hundred people up there, waiting to come down. They see your high beams on, it’ll draw attention to your sister. Just take the shirt.”
“And you all half-naked, jacked, and inked up isn’t going to bring attention to us? Nice try, but no.”
“It’s a fuck of a lot different, and you know it.”
She snatches the shirt from my hand. “Fine.”
Tris passes us and jets up the stairs, Matteo following hot on her heels, both laughing. Zack is at the top, so there is no need to worry, as they’re covered.
Brisa and I both look at each other in shock.
Typically, after a long day, Tris is exhausted. Today, we took in two sites, so she would normally be lagging a bit.
“Must be the water,” she says, taking off after her.
I show Zack the screen of my phone, showing him the money for his time has been transferred to his account, and then I airdrop his flight information.
He’s heading out west to visit some brothers at the ass-crack of dawn. The rest of us will hang back for a day to chill before traveling commences. The first leg of that journey is to head to JFK where Brisa will get picked up by her parents, and Tris, Matteo, and I will head back over the Atlantic so I can check out and design a system for their place, which will now be theirs together when they are in Europe. They have yet to decide on where they’ll hang their hats, so to speak, when in the States.
“I get the whole money thing, but you don’t give a fuck about money. And I get you’re able to help us all out by hiring us, but you have no responsibility to us; we’re grown-ass men now. So, I gotta ask why you haven’t cut and run from this. You know this is going to go off again. You know it’s mostly Trouble’s doing. So, what gives?” Zack tips back his beer.
I lean back and look up at the sky. “She’s trying.”
“This is Sissy and your mom all over again. A no-win for you.”
I would tell him it’s none of his fucking business, but when I was gone, he looked out for Sissy the best he could. Dumb shit fell in love with her for a beat, too.
“Tris isn’t fucked up because she’s hitting a pipe or shooting up, and she’s not laying around, feeling sorry for herself.”
“I get that, but it’s gonna be the same vicious cycle. She proved that by giving him a literal map into the place in Italy. She’s bound to—”
“Not that I have to justify my choices to you or anyone else, but—”
“Not asking for that. Trying to get you to open yourself up to the fact that you have choices, too. You could lead a normal life. You have skills. You don’t have to be a hero all the time.”
“Not trying to be a hero; just trying to do—”
“The Lord’s work?” he jokes.
“Fuck off.” I can’t help but laugh.
“You talk about planting roots, about your next thirty-year sentence on this earth being chill.”
“Zack, you’re a brother to me, but you’re one inch from stepping over a line. I do what I do because I’m good at it. My clients, my choice.”
“Then do it for someone else. Clients like you used to have. Someone who doesn’t require twenty-four seven, so you can live.”
“She’s on meds, she’s getting there, and she’s the exact opposite of my mom and Sissy. She’ll get to the point she only needs someone for tours and travel.”
“You really think she can beat this?”
“She’s not an addict; she has a legit medical diagnosis. She tripped when she sent him that message, and she got back up and dusted herself off. She didn’t fall deeper. She’s managing it now; it’s not managing her. And when Efisto gets that shit through his head, he won’t be an issue. He’s a narcissistic little shit; he’ll find another girl to make him feel like he’s a god. And just a heads-up, he messaged her first, threatened to off himself, so the girl has a heart, too. Sissy and my mom would have sold a baby to get a fix without a second thought. Tris Steel would not. And let’s remember she’s seventeen years old.”
“Yeah, well, her sister is nineteen and looks at you like you hung the moon.”
“That’s because I fucking did.” I smirk, and he laughs. “Right after I molded the world into a ball so your dumb asses wouldn’t fall off and put the twinkle in the stars.”
“So, you and Efisto are both narcissistic assholes.”
I shrug. “Can’t claim what’s not real. I’m no narcissist.”
With Zack inside, getting some sleep, the cla
ssical music softly playing in the background, I see Brisa’s lights off in her room, so I know she’s done going through today’s pictures and probably sleeping.
I open a third beer. Not a norm for me, since I’m strictly a two-drink man. Then I walk over and sit on the chaise lounge, taking in the sleepy calm surrounding me and letting the words of the conversation sink in.
This is my life, a life of my choosing, finally.
Sure, planting roots is the ideal, but I’m good with being rooted in reality. This is mine, and I can’t complain. I’m alive, and I’ve broken a cycle. Scars and nightmares don’t really mean shit comparatively.
I hear a door open behind me and turn around, expecting Zack.
Nothing to my left.
I swing my head right and see Brisa walking out onto the balcony, in that white, gauze shirt, completely unbuttoned, her body fully on display. Fucking beautiful.
“Door’s been unlocked all night.”
The devil on the left rubs his hands together. Let’s party.
The angel on the right pleads, Don’t.
I choose to do what’s right.
I take a long pull off my beer in hopes to clear the thickness in my throat so I don’t sound like a possessed hard-on. “Not a good idea.”
Nose in the air, she struts her fine ass over and stands right in front of me. I swear there’s glitter running like an arrow from between her tits to her pussy. The scent of lavender and her sweetness makes my mouth water.
Just one more lick, the devil needles me.
The angel has turned around, covered her ears, and is rocking back and forth, knowing damn well what’s about to go down.
Me.
“Not a good idea, but you and I both know it’s a helluva ride.”
I set my beer down and grip her ankle lightly, running my hand up her soft skin. I stop at her knee and lift her leg, hell-bent on burying my face between her legs.
“No.” She pulls it away, leans down, and then runs her hand over my erection.
I put my hand over hers as she grips me, stroking me up and down, but I don’t stop her. “If you’re going down, I’m gonna have to insist I go first.”
She doesn’t look up at me. She simply hooks her thumbs in my waistband and pulls my sweats down far enough that my cock springs free. “Let’s do this the way it should have stayed.” She turns around, straddles me, reaches between her legs, grabs my cock, and slides it back and forth between her wet hot folds.
Gripping the sides of the chaise lounge, I mutter curses as she slides her tight pussy down my shaft.
She stiffens, and I know damn well she’s trying to work through the pain that comes before the pleasure, yet I hold back on reaching around and rubbing her little nub to get her there. She’s taking me … again, and this isn’t how I roll.
I’m two seconds from lifting her ass up, positioning her on her knees, and pounding into her rough enough that she remembers whose cock made her come first, but what the fuck good would that do? She’s not mine, and if this is what she needs as a parting gesture, she damn well better just take it.
“You wanna ride it, ride it. Otherwise—fuuuuck.”
She rocks back and forth before planting her feet on the cushions beside me, her little hands gripping my knees for balance as she rides.
Her tight pussy is a noose around my cock. Makes me want to come so fucking bad to get this over with before I fuck up and kiss her, touch her in the places that beg to be touched, just to be done with this so I can breathe.
As she softens around me, it doesn’t feel like a noose anymore. It starts to feel a lot like a place I want to plant more than my dick in. But I fucking can’t.
Balls tightening, I sit up, pressing my chest to her back, inhaling the scent surrounding us, getting lost in the intoxication that must be lust. I then reach around and rub her clit. Her head falls back on my shoulder, but she doesn’t face me, doesn’t give me those gorgeous eyes. She comes silently, taking that away from me, too.
I wrap my arms around the back of her thighs and pull her tightly to me as I lean back and fuck her relentlessly, giving her as much as I possibly can in a position I’ve been in a million times, just not with her, not with Brisa.
I can’t get deep enough. I need to get deeper.
Still holding her, still inside her, I maneuver around so that I can stand. Dick still buried inside her, I walk to the open balcony doors, kicking one then the next shut before stalking to the bed and slowly putting her on the bed, ensuring my cock remains inside her heat.
I grab her hips and hold her in place as I fuck her hard from behind. Then I fuck her harder for the nights she’s taken away from me, from herself, because she tried to change this up. Tried to prolong the inevitable.
“You missed this cock, didn’t you?”
She tries not to answer, her body tensing, on the verge of another orgasm, her cries swallowed up by pride and the truth she isn’t allowing herself to realize—that as fucking amazing as this is, she will never love me, and I can’t love her.
“Answer me, dammit,” I hiss, pounding in harder.
Her face now buried in the mattress, round, tight ass still in the air, she cries into the blankets, “Yes, yes, yes!”
No longer allowing myself to take in the unsurmountable pleasure, I continue to fuck her, orgasm through orgasm, until I know she’s fucking exhausted and I’m not even close.
I pull out, and she whimpers, “You haven’t come.”
“Oh, I’m going to,” I sneer, pissed she started this, and even more pissed I can’t walk the fuck away.
I move to the bed, lying on my side. Then I reach down and drag her up, pulling her back to my chest before reaching back down and pulling her leg up so it’s hooked behind mine. I grab my head, sticky with her orgasm, and push into her in one swift movement.
She whimpers, and then I fuck her through another and another as we lie in her bed. Finally, I allow myself to come.
I wake to the sun, smelling her, smelling us, and open my eyes. She’s not beside me, but there is a note.
I warned you not to fall.
You did, and so did I.
You’ve broken both of our hearts, and that’s on you.
Yours … never again,
Brisa
New Jersey
Home
Brisa
After getting pummeled by Ranger’s unapologetically large cock and him passing out from what I assume was extreme exertion, I showered then went in search of ice for my battered lady bits.
“You alive?” Tris whispers, making me jump nearly out of my skin.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I admit.
“Me? I was worried I’d have to send an extraction team to dig you out of the mattress after all the—”
“Oh my God, shut up.” I cover her mouth and look around for Zack.
“He left for the airport just a few minutes ago. I’m guessing he thought he could get more sleep on a hard, plastic public bench than out here.”
“Are you serious?” I gasp. “I was that loud?”
“If I were a better person, more like you, I’d lie and save you from the embarrassment. But I am who I am, so the honest answer? Um, fuck yes. My vagina was jealous.”
Laughing, I hug her then step back. “Tell her I’m sorry. And, Tris, you have always been my favorite person in the world, and after this trip, you are even more precious to me. I understand some of what you go through. I’ve seen the dozens of prescriptions, and I know you’re fighting hard against something that I one hundred and ninety percent believe is not even close to being strong enough to take my sister on. You’re a bad ass. Without a doubt, the strongest of our Crew, and I couldn’t possibly love you more than I do. Everyone else will get it. They’ll understand when you’re ready. Until then, you have me and Amias who—”
“Amias doesn’t get me. He’s too busy chasing his dream, and I hope he never looks back. I know he loves me, just like you do, but I believe
now that you do get me. And the fact that you don’t look at me like I’m crazy when I hit wow for a few days then crash for a few proves it. That’s all I needed, even though I didn’t know it. I do now.”
“Can you feel it when you … transform?”
She laughs. “Only you would make it sound like I’m a mythical creature when it’s more like a freaking werewolf or evil shifter. And no, I can’t feel it coming on. When I get manic, it just seems like everyone wants to be around me. It’s addicting. But I can tell when I’m getting low again sometimes. Although instead of hating on everyone around me for distancing themselves, and rightfully so, I just look at Matteo, who wants me and all my sides.”
“I want all your sides, too, so don’t hide from me.”
“Only if you promise to do me a favor.”
“Anything,” I promise.
“Go home now before he wakes up.”
“Like slip out? He’ll flip.”
“No, he’ll worry, as well as he should. And so Mom and Dad can see how strong you are, let you out of the womb, so to speak, use your own account to buy your ticket.”
“Like they wouldn’t get the alert.” I laugh.
“They won’t, because I asked Matteo to set up an account for you, and we deposited money into it from his for the beautiful pictures you’re about to share with the world so that, when it’s leaked that I’m nuts, and that he married a minor, they can see that what we are is in love. And, Brisa, you helped us fall even deeper in love by bringing us to places we would have never gone. And”—she holds up her crossed fingers—“I’m hoping, as our PR and social media rep, posting all the pictures you took, they’ll see that. They’ll see that I’m not just dark and scary. They’ll see he didn’t fall in love with a child. And when the time comes, when they find out about me, they’ll still accept me and I’ll still be able to do what I love to do.”
Confused, I ask, “You want me to be your PR rep? I don’t know the first thing about—”
