Unsaid

by Avery Aster

  His face came up revealing his sharp Mediterranean features, wiping his lips. “My bella tastes sweet.” He sucked on her other breast for a second longer than the first while drilling her pussy hard.

  She needed him. She loved this man.

  With jackhammer-like strokes which parted her spasming flesh, she clenched her cunt muscles, holding his fat cock inside her. She didn’t want the feeling of him, of her, of them together as one to stop.

  “You milking my cock, bella?”

  “Bone-dry,” she replied playfully.

  Sensation slammed through her as he came inside her. She couldn’t articulate the love they shared. He was hers forever and always. How could she not marry this man?

  Together they laid there while he held her in his arms. He didn’t pull out. No longer erect, his cock was still hard. “Incredible.”

  “I needed that.”

  “You feel better?” he asked, knowing full well she did.

  “Yes, every time you fuck me—”

  “Love. Every time we make love,” Massimo corrected.

  She laughed remembering he hated when she used the word ‘fuck’. It was too crude and American for his taste.

  “Every time we make love, I feel all the worry in my heart and mind disappear.”

  “Are you worried about the wedding?”

  “Not the ceremony or reception, but us, our family and friends. I don’t want anything to change, Masi.” She didn’t want to lose her friends and the thought of them all going their separate ways tore at her. But she’d hope for the best. She didn’t have much choice.

  “Bella, life changes. It moves forward, and together, we’ll make the best of it. Sì?”

  “Yes, we will. We’ll have two babies to look after, soon.”

  “Maybe three.” Masi tickled her.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You always want too much.”

  “And you always expect so little.”

  Lex kissed him on the lips then looked at his brown eyes. “Is it wrong to have expectations for our family?”

  “I have them, don’t you?”

  “Subconsciously, I guess I do.”

  “What are they?”

  “I don’t want us to ever be apart, not for an extended period of time. Not the way my parents would go months without seeing one another.”

  “Agreed. What else?”

  “I want the babies to grow up here, not on a plane.”

  “We already talked about this, Lex. You will have New Yorkers as children during the school season. Then they’ll summer in Italy. What else?”

  “I’m only…oh, forget it.” She felt silly for saying what she was thinking. It was judgmental and pessimistic.

  “Speak.”

  “I only want to get married once,” Lex blurted, watching Massimo’s face respond in confusion. She elaborated with an example. “Look at Blake. He’s divorced and once you’re divorced, you’re more likely to get divorced—again.”

  “Says who?”

  “Statistics.”

  “Bella. We’re hardwired for commitment and marriage. Our parents weren’t, but we’ll make those vows to one another, for M2 and the baby on the way, that nothing but death will part us.”

  “Good, because if you ever give me cause to divorce you, it’ll be over your own dead body.”

  “Do not talk like that.” Massimo shushed her.

  “You still don’t get my humor sometimes.”

  Pulling her body against his, Massimo told her to sleep.

  As Lex drifted off, she thought about what their forever would look like. She wondered if Birdie had the same ideals when she was getting married to Eddie. Did Taddy’s mother have them as well when she married Joseph Graff? What about Blake when he married Diego? Did they all, at that moment, days before their wedding, think in their heart of hearts their marriage would be forever? Or was Vive right? Had Lex’s fairytale romance changed her for the worse? Was Vive’s negative outlook on love a hard reality or just a jaded view on real life?

  Lower East Side

  A heavy rainstorm started to fall the second the Mercedes left Chelsea and passed Twelfth Street, making it hard for the driver to go any speed other than slow. Blake brought with him some of the Baden pet products for Brutus, which Taddy had given him to test. He couldn’t believe it, but he was looking forward to seeing that dog.

  Putting his head on Miguel’s chest, he waited for him to say something, anything. But he didn’t speak. Ever since the police left, he’d grown quiet.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. Never.”

  His body felt cold and unwelcoming, though he could hear Miguel’s heart beating rapidly.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  His friend’s hands bawled into fists. He squeezed them tight then released. “It doesn’t matter what I think. We’re not boyfriends.”

  “Not yet…”

  “Don’t tease me, Blake. I’m here for you as your friend, nothing more. Respect that.”

  “Is that what you want?” He sat up, looking at Miguel who wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

  “It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s not important now.”

  He grabbed at Miguel’s square jaw, forcing him to make eye contact. He raised his brow. “Maybe if you told me, you’d get more of what you want and less of what you don’t.”

  “That’s rich coming from you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re the one with lies and secrets.” Miguel’s tone had changed since leaving his place.

  “Ouch, that hurt.” He knew he deserved to hear a lot worse. “I’ve never lied to you. I just didn’t tell you.”

  “What’s the difference?” Miguel took Blake’s hand off his face. “You should be able to tell me everything.”

  “My marriage was my business, my mess. Not yours and don’t go thinking you could’ve done something to stop what happened. No one could, not even the FBI.”

  “Tonight, you almost killed him. You were out of your mind.”

  “No. I wanted to shoot him in the leg so he couldn’t run.”

  “I could’ve helped you if you’d told me about this sooner.” Miguel’s chest rose as he inhaled through his nose. “I’m not mad at you for not telling me. But if you want this friendship to continue, you won’t keep anything from me, ever. Got it?” He stroked the top of his hand.

  Miguel’s touch drove Blake crazy. Seeing his friend so caring and possessive was annoyingly hot.

  “I promise.”

  “This isn’t over with Diego. They’ll catch him. You heard what that officer said; he’ll pay for what he’s done.”

  “I’m ready for the worst.” He slid his right hand over the seatbelt and started to play with the belt buckle.

  “For Diego, yes, but for yourself, bebé, hope for the best. You deserve to be happy again. All I want right now is for you to be happy.”

  “To be honest, I’ve forgotten what happy feels like. It would be nice…”

  “I’ll do everything in my power to bring joy back into your life again, as your friend. All of us will.” Miguel spoke with such seriousness. “But I meant what I said at the club. You’re going to have to find someone else…to finish your Seven Desires.”

  “What? Why?” He pulled away, sitting on the edge of the leather bench.

  “I told you already, I can’t have sex with you.”

  “What’s changed since the other day at the spa when you were ready to top me and show me who was boss?” He wasn’t sure why, but the rejection caused a sick feeling to swell in his stomach. “It’s because of what’s happened with Diego, isn’t it? You don’t want me now. You don’t look at me the same way, do you?”

  “No, not a damn thing has changed. My feelings for you are still the same. I thought I could go through with our Seven Desires, but now I know I can’t.”

  “Why? I want to be there for you when you come out to your parents.�
� He was losing him. This was exactly what he was afraid would happen. Air, he couldn’t breathe. He cracked the window. The fresh night was thick with rain, spraying his arm. “We don’t have to finish my list. But we’re going to finish yours.” He wouldn’t budge. Life without Miguel was unimaginable.

  “No we won’t.”

  What point was there in staying at his loft if they weren’t going to work on their lists? How would they ever get closer? “You’re serious?” he asked Miguel for confirmation as his friend nodded a reply. “Okay. Then this is all pointless.” Blake leaned forward to the driver. “Sir, can you take me back to Chelsea? I won’t be staying here—”

  “Ignore us, por favor.” Miguel balked at the driver who’d parked the limo in front of his building. He directed his attention to Blake and glared at him, the pity in his eyes evident. That made Blake livid.

  “You either stay here with me tonight, or I’m taking you to the police station and they’ll put you in protective custody.”

  “I don’t need you. I can protect myself.”

  “Is that so? What would’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up tonight?”

  “I still would’ve wounded Diego…”

  “Or he might’ve killed you. You’re staying here tonight, bebé. Don’t argue with me.”

  “Spare me. I’ll walk.”

  He opened the limo door and jumped out into the storm as Miguel tried unsuccessfully to grab at his waist so he’d stay put. This was such bullshit. How dare Miguel pull away when they were getting closer? He didn’t need that shit.

  “I’m not your escort!” Miguel shouted after him as he came out the car. His shirt was getting wet, revealing his insanely developed chest.

  “Goodnight, Mig.”

  There was so much more to their lists than just sex. He didn’t understand how Miguel couldn’t see that. Ever since his lunch with Thor and Vive earlier that day, he’d thought differently about him and what his friend wanted and especially after the events of the evening. He wanted one more chance with Miguel to make things good. He wanted to try to give him what he’d wanted.

  “Don’t walk away from me. Stay here and talk to me.”

  “Talk?” He marched back to Miguel and got right up to his face. He hoped the rain covered his tears as competently as it got in his shoes. “You don’t talk and now that we’re getting close, you’re putting distance between us. This is why we never go anywhere. You can be so giving one minute, but it’s never unconditional as you get all high and mighty. You, Miguel Santana, are an asshole.”

  The damn smirk which he found so endearing graced Miguel’s face. The street lights illuminated his profile making him all the more haunting and gorgeous.

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “Here.” He shoved the Baden bag into Miguel’s arms. “Give these to your dog.”

  Miguel ignored the bag and grabbed him tight, drawing him in even as he tried to pull away.

  “Let me go.”

  “Listen to me, bebé. You want me to start telling you what I want?” His arms brought Blake in for a tighter bear hug.

  He wasn’t escaping the tight grip any time soon.

  “Yes, you fucktard and you haven’t even asked me what I want.”

  His feelings had changed since the club. He loved this man more than anything. But he still wasn’t sure what he had left inside of himself to give anyone in the form of a relationship. Diego had pretty much bankrupted his spirits.

  “I want you in my arms tonight.”

  “You do?” He felt a warm sensation tingling through him.

  “Sí. I want my cock buried deep in your ass.” Miguel’s strong hands stroked his butt through his soaking-wet pants.

  “Now we’re talking.”

  “I want to pound you so hard you’ll beg me to stop.”

  He kissed his lips passionately, and with such intensity, Blake could’ve sworn he had something wet in his shorts, and it wasn’t rain.

  “I want it rough and tender, fast and slow.”

  “I’m lovin’ this rough stuff.”

  “I want to make love to you like I’ve never made love to any man in my entire life. Because if we’re being honest…since we were eighteen, I dreamt it would only be you. I have to have you tonight. I want to feel myself inside of you where I belong.”

  For the first time in Blake’s life, words escaped him.

  “I don’t care anymore, bebé, if you don’t love me. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll always love you. Tonight, I’ll show you what love feels like. It’s clear to me, after what happened today, you’ve never felt real love, either.”

  “Mig…” He still couldn’t get the words. Fuck. He knew what he wanted to tell Miguel—he was in love with him, too. Miguel was right. He had never made love to anyone before.

  “In the morning, we’ll talk about our friendship. But tonight, I’m going to fuck you.” Miguel turned him around to face the door of the apartment building. With a swat of his ass, he shouted, “March!”

  He was more turned on than he’d ever been in his entire life. If he had a pussy it, for sure, would drip. At least that’s what Vive would be screaming in his ear right then. Lord, Miguel had grown some serious balls and he was ready to suck on both of them. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good boy.”

  Walking beside Miguel, he heard scratching at the door when they got close to the loft. “Did you walk Brutus today?”

  “Not since early this afternoon.”

  Miguel unlocked the apartment. The pooch flew out into the hallway, chasing his tail and spinning with his leash in his mouth. Brutus went straight to him and rested under his legs for acknowledgement, barking with excitement.

  “I’m sorry, Brutus.”

  Miguel stepped inside for a second then came back out into the corridor with a raincoat. “Here, you’ll need to cover up. Want me to go with you?”

  “No, thanks. I could use a few minutes alone to clear my head.”

  He zipped the jacket and threw up the hood, leashed Brutus then headed back downstairs. He’d never taken Brutus out in a downpour, but was surprised to witness the dog walk as if it was no big deal.

  Head hung low, Brutus was as tough as Miguel. Rain pelted his furry back, matting the gray locks together. Walking faster than usual, Brutus stopped near the community garden to do his business.

  Upon his return to the apartment, he heard Miguel in the shower, singing in Spanish to some flamenco music he must’ve turned on.

  Unsure, he left Brutus at the door and leaned into the bathroom. “He’s soaking wet and starting to shake. What should I do?”

  Miguel’s cute face popped out from behind the shower curtain. “Bathe him in the mudroom sink. Use the products you brought home.”

  “Gotcha.” He grabbed a few towels from the rack.

  “Be careful not to make the water too hot. Brutus has sensitive skin and don’t get anything in his ears.” Miguel went back to showering himself.

  “No worries.” Blake stepped closer, following Brutus. Miguel’s backside was broad, his butt juicy.

  Miguel whipped around, facing him, stroking that cock of his. “Thought you were gonna give Brutus a bath?”

  “I am. I was just admiring the view.”

  Dripping in sex, Miguel tugged at his cock. It swelled. “You mean this?”

  “Yes, that.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “Don’t take too long.”

  “I won’t.” Grabbing his bag from work, he pulled out the Baden products labeled Dog Shampoo. Once the water was set at a tepid temperature, he filled the basin.

  Brutus swaggered over to the sink as if knowing the routine. He stood on his hind legs and leaned into him.

  Blake lifted him into the sink. “Whoa, you’re heavier than I thought.” He scrubbed him from head to toe, remembering not to get anything near the ears. “I’m going to start feeding you Baden diet food. Daddy spoils you.” He rubbed his belly with a washcloth, removi
ng the city’s grime from his fur.

  When Brutus was nice and sudsy, he grabbed his iPhone and snapped a photo. The picture caught the dog’s head covered in foam and cocked slightly, the brown eyes looking into the camera. A Baden shampoo bottle floated in the water beside him. He e-mailed the picture to Taddy and the manager of Baden with the message: A pit bull needs Baden love, too.

  He sensed Miguel moving across the apartment behind him and quickly rinsed Brutus off.

  The dog licked his hand in appreciation.

  He’d bonded with him and realized his canine fear had subsided. He was no longer anxious when in the same room with Brutus.

  Draining the sink, Blake squeezed the extra water out from his legs and tail. He looked over his shoulder to confirm he was alone with the dog. With a lean toward the basin, he talked to him for the first time. “I’m sorry I misjudged you.” He kissed Brutus’s black, wet nose-tip and added, “I was wrong about your daddy, too.”

  Reaching down, he grabbed a towel and dried the dog. He lifted and carried, then lowered Brutus back to the kitchen floor. He fed him his food, poured fresh water into the bowl, and waited to see if he’d eat the new stuff.

  He did.

  He caught his reflection in the kitchen window. A total mess, his eyes were still puffy from his crying earlier.

  “ìArriba, arriba!” a sexy Latin voice called out from the loft’s corner. “I have a present for you.” Miguel shot him a seductive glare from the bed. He’d lit votive candles alongside the bed’s far wall and turned the lights down.

  “I’ll only be one minute.” After stripping his clothes off, he showered quicker than usual. Drying himself he stepped out, anticipating it, needing it, and headed to the bed.

  Miguel lay there as if he was an endangered gay god species to be admired, impossible to nail down. His long, thick, tanned legs were spread wide. A beautiful cock teased his appetite, half-covered by the sheets he’d purchased for him. A black trail came up from Miguel’s pelvis to his belly button, dusting over his six-pack.

  He realized he’d waited over a decade for that moment.

  Quarter-size nipples decorated his friend’s sculpted chest, and his face—