by Nikki Winter
“Because my dick hurts,” Eli growled, taking a drink from a bottle of beer in his hand.
“The information that I receive involuntarily would chase a demon back into hell,” Maikao stated. “Am I right in assuming the pain in your unmentionables is due to a certain insane lust you have for one Ms. Sanchez?”
“It’s making me crazy,” he retorted. “Every thought I have. Every move I make. Everything centers around her. And what disturbs me the most is the fact that not all of it involves her naked. I sometimes just want to…to…”
“Talk?” the other man filled in with a gleeful tone that made Eli want to smack him in the mouth.
“Yes.” He followed the movements of Carmen’s hips as she danced with Addison to Dream On. “What is happening to me?”
Maikao laughed. “I’d tell you but you may hit me in the face and ruin my undeniable beauty.”
Eli frowned. “Tell me what?”
“Oh no,” Maikao replied, shaking his head. “I will not be a party to the bruising of my face.”
He scowled. “The fuck are you talking about?”
His friend only smiled and backed away slowly. “You sir, are falling. Falling.”
“What? Falling? Speak English!”
Maikao said nothing else, just continued on his merry little way in his merry little fringe vest with that merry little smile that creeped the shit out of Eli. Falling? Into what? Love? He thought Eli was falling in… love?
Grimacing from just the thought, he downed the rest of his beer in two swallows. Love? Nah. Him? Just… nah. He shook his head and scanned the crowd of moving bodies, again finding his gaze drawn to Carmen and Carmen alone no matter how many asses were on display and how much skin he could see. It should’ve bothered him. It should’ve made him shift uncomfortably, made him turn on the balls of his feet, find the nearest attractive woman and fuck her just to prove a point to himself. He could’ve. He should’ve. He… couldn’t.
With hard inhalations, he watched her face split into a grin as Bohemian Rhapsody suddenly came careening out of the sound system, she and Addison sharing a look right before they conjured imaginary microphones and began to lip sync to the music, while swaying in tandem. There was something about that. Something in the way her skin flushed slightly, her fingers curling into her palm, her hair moving just so over her shoulders. He suddenly got a vision on the little girl she’d described to him hours ago over donut holes and lemon cream cakes. The one that had to find her way before she learned exactly who she was, the one who hadn’t always felt confident or sexy, the one who adored her best friend and worshipped her mother, the one who he could see in her gaze every now and again when she cast a mischievous grin. There she was and incredibly enough… he needed her. He needed her now.
It didn’t make any sense. At least not to him. He couldn’t grasp what compelled him to push through the throngs of partygoers until he reached Carmen and Addison. He couldn’t comprehend what made him look at the bride-to-be and say, “I’m sorry but I have to take your friend now and fuck her on the nearest surface I can find until she swallows her tongue and has to babble incoherently for the rest of her life.” And he sure as shit couldn’t understand why he would then grasp Carmen around the waist and toss her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, but he did. Elijah Christopher Aaronson did all of those things and he regretted none of them for even a moment.
***
One minute she was belting out the lyrics to a beloved Queen song and the next she was upside down and staring at Eli’s ass. It was a nice ass; strong, well-formed and amazingly good looking in a fabric that would do many an injustice but his ass nonetheless.
“Erm… Eli?”
He grunted, continuing his trek through dozens of people.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Sex,” he answered simply.
Carmen’s mouth twisted and her eyes went back to that ass. She briefly considered sticking her hands in his back pockets but then she got a vision of him dropping her on her face from the unexpected contact and decided against it. “Sex? Now?”
“Yes.”
“And we’re not going to discuss your sudden need to pile drive my vagina?”
He stopped momentarily. “Do you not want to have sex?”
Well…yes. She hadn’t gotten everything below the waist stolen by a strip happy technician at the spa hours ago because she didn’t plan on baring it all for his eyes and she certainly hadn’t been traipsing around with her labia in the wind because she didn’t think it would lead to his tongue being in inappropriate places. But it seemed a little…sporadic. Eli had never stuck her as the type of man who didn’t have some kind of schematic on what he wanted from the opposite sex. This was different. He seemed very tense.
“Carmen?” he hedged.
“Seeing as how I didn’t dig my nails into your esophagus and yank it out after you went Barbarian, I’m going to say that yes, Eli, I do want to have sex with—whoa!” She was suddenly looking at the world from the upright position, her back pressed against a wall.
Eli loomed over her, palms against the surface above her head, chest rising and falling harshly.
Carmen glanced around. She could still hear the music and patrons but couldn’t see anything past several levels of stairs. “The stairwell?” she asked, looking back to Eli with a raised brow.
He winced. “I wanted romance and soft bedding, I really did. Had every intention of soft lighting and candles and sea breeze from the balcony while tropical birds serenaded us but—”
Laughing, she cut him off by gripping the nape of his neck and yanking his head down. She pressed her smiling mouth to his until his guilt ridden frown melted and he pushed her back into the wall. He flicked his tongue out against her lips, waiting until they parted before he fully thrust it inside. Carmen’s fingers went from the curly hair below his ears and slid to the collar of his shirt, her other hand coming up and joining it as her nails raked against the outer edges of his shoulders, drawing a growl from the depths of his throat. The sound was like the striking of a cymbal in her core. She could feel the vibration of the noise surround the hood of her clit, the nubbin swelling under the intense arousal he’d induced. The shift of her legs made her aware of how bare she’d gone earlier, the friction bringing a gasp from the middle of her chest.
Eli fisted her hair and tugged her head back firmly as he released her lips, only to lick both before pulling each between his own, suckling until her lashes fanned downwards and her eyes slammed shut. His free hand rasped up her torso, his finger briefly dipping into her belly button before his digits caught hold of her blouse’s tie and yanked it loose. With quick movements, he got the garment unbuttoned and skated his pointer just over the tops of her half naked breasts, the only thing standing between his touch and her nipples, the fabric of her demi cup bra. Once again, he stopped his kiss but trailed his mouth down her chin, the pulse hammering in her throat and then reached her exposed flesh.
“Pull your bra down,” he rumbled.
Almost unable to breathe, Carmen did as he commanded and watched as his eyes darkened to something feral but he only stared, didn’t make a move to touch them. Letting go of her hair, he gripped the bottom of her skirt and pushed it up over her hips, delivering a strangled sound as he discovered the minimal hair between her legs.
Without being asked, she spread them and he practically ripped his jacket getting it off before coming back to her. His middle finger pressed at the crease of her pussy, dipped a bit and came back. He repeated the motion over and over until she was following his hand, begging without saying a word for him to touch her.
“Pinch your nipples.”
The growled words spurred her into action. Without another encouragement, she reached up and squeezed the painfully hard tips, staring as he watched with rapt attention. Eli used his other hand to grasp the ever growing bulge that rested against his right thigh. When he stroked it, a hiss left her clenched teeth.
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Finally he used the moisture he’d collected to trace the outline of her clit. Carmen’s moan echo around the space they’d taken for their play and a muscle in his jaw leapt.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he snarled.
“Yes,” she panted, nodding fitfully.
“You’re going to scream.”
“Yes.”
“My name,” he told her, grabbing her hips and pushing her backwards while hooking his hand into one of her thighs and lifting it to his waist. “My. Name.”
At any other moment, she would’ve stopped and asked, “Would you like me to give you a title also?” But this wasn’t any other moment and she really wanted to come, now.
The jerk of his zipper brought her mind back to what was important. “C-condom?” she stuttered.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled it out, handing it to her. “You do it. I might rip the fucking thing.”
Trembling, Carmen tore open the golden packet and reached into his unbuckled trousers, grasping the meaty length of him in her palm. She ran her fingers around the flesh and he groaned above her head, “Carmen. Now.”
Almost disappointed that she couldn’t play more, she rolled the latex down what would bring her an immense amount of pleasure and allowed Eli to take over. He rained kisses down her brow, jaw and stopped at her lips, whispering, “I apologize in advance for any discomfort experienced while on this ride. Please keep your hands and feet where they were appointed at all times and allow me to say that I am more than pleased that you chose this particular jaunt for fun and excitement.”
She began to laugh but it came out as a choked breath when he teased her opening with the head of his cock, easing it past the muscles at her core until half of his length was seated. He then slid back out and repeated the action. Over and over, he mocked her with just that portion. Mocked her, until she nipped beneath his chin and whispered, “Elijah, fuck me. Make me scream.”
What switch those words hit she did not know but he pulled his hips back, clenched her thigh in his hand and rammed into her with enough force to go through the wall. It wasn’t gentle, it was barely human but, she loved every minute of it. The punishing strokes seemed to deepen with every push of his pelvis against hers. They didn’t kiss now, simply exchanged exhales and inhales, lips hovering mere millimeters away from one another’s as he shoved into her, twisting his waist slightly on the thrust. Apparently feeling as though they weren’t close enough, he curled her knee over his forearm, grinding into her until moisture crested on her eyelids.
Carmen gripped the sides of his face, pressing their foreheads together as a sounds began to build in her throat. He bounced her on his cock until those sounds came pouring out, alternating between slow screws and hard lunges, taking her until she was screaming into his shoulder, begging; begging for him to stop, begging for him to never stop, begging for him to make her come.
He did. Right then and right there he whispered some of the most obscene things against the shell of her ear. He told her how good her pussy felt, how he couldn’t forget the taste, how he’d made himself come several times over imagining the sound of her voice and the curve of her ass. Eli whispered all these things and he made. Her. Come.
Ten
“My mamá would debone you if she knew what you had me doing right now.”
Eli only grinned. “That’s half the fun isn’t it?”
Carmen’s lips quirked in response. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny the accuracy of that statement.”
“Meaning, yes,” he retorted, placing his chin on her shoulder. “Besides, this allows us to do something with our oral fixations.”
She turned her head to meet his stare. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
He chuckled. “Unh-hunh.”
“Hush and help me do this, man.”
Slapping her hands out of the way, Eli used his own to roll the cigar. He’d tricked her into this, a workshop offered by the resort where they got to learn the merits of creating their own stogies. He told her that he hadn’t smoked in at least six months but occasionally, he did like to visit the whiskey bar where tobacco thrived. When Carmen had told him she used to enjoy Cubans before she had to give them up for the sake of her taste buds, he’d formed the perfect plan to give them a little bit of downtime and fun while the rest of the wedding party ran about.
He finished the task and held it up. “See? This is how you properly roll a cigar.”
She took it from him, cut the tip and stared at it. “I really shouldn’t.”
“Probably not.”
“But I really want to.”
“Understandably.”
“And just one couldn’t hurt, right?”
“Who am I to judge?”
“They’ve got the most amazing Sauvignon at the gift shop that would go perfectly with this,” she continued wistfully.
“And I saw that the house restaurant serves grilled oysters in fennel butter with coconut prawns that would probably give you your first orgasm of the night,” Eli commented.
She gave him a look beneath her lashes. “Planning on giving me the other three?”
“Three? That’s demanding,” he said, rubbing her arms. “But I could be persuaded. However, this is all hypothetical isn’t it?”
Carmen leaned forward. “When this cigar is done, I’m going to have to find something to occupy my mouth Eli.”
He blinked slowly. “Right. Wine. Food. Now.”
She laughed as he pulled her out of the class with a quick wave to the instructor. Soon they were placing a blanket on the sand and watching the tide roll in as smoke curled through the air, plates and basket forgotten, goblets in hand. Carmen lounged between his outstretched legs languidly.
“This has been amazing,” she said.
“That it has.”
“I’m going to miss the food.”
Eli snorted. “What for? You’re a kitchen Goddess.”
“This is true but having someone else make things for me is always nice.”
He grunted, then suddenly asked, “What made you become a chef?”
Feeling nostalgic and a little buzzed, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “My family.”
His eyes ran over her face. “Meaning the ladies who frighten and amuse me?”
Smiling, she nodded and continued, “Because we had nothing. We had to throw together what we could for a long time until I found myself interested in making something other than fried bologna and deviled eggs. One day I tried and el resto es historia.”
He briefly squeezed her shoulder. “They’re lucky to have you.”
“Of course they are,” she told him. “I’m incredible.”
Eli never objected, they simply spent that time on the beach, watching the tide, letting their cigars burn out as their voices carried into laughter and conversation. Carmen’s nostalgia melted into things she wasn’t ready to admit to herself. At least not yet. Not when those things terrified her.
***
“Pretty certain that it’s entirely too early for this type of lascivious behavior.”
Carmen’s sleep roughened voice didn’t deter him from the task at hand in the least. She was right, it was entirely too early but they’d have to get up in another two hours and spend the next day and a half keeping a couple apart while preparing for that couple’s wedding and trying all the while to focus on everything but sex.
This meant that he wouldn’t be compromising on what he did or didn’t do to her this morning. Oh no, before even one sliver of sunlight touched this part of the Earth, he’d make sure she’d come at least twice and then once more, before they fell back into the same slumber they’d had night after night since arriving. She’d curl around him, one arm thrown across his waist, her head on his shoulder, his finger’s brushing her hip while she rest one thigh on his own. That would be later though. Much later.
“Don’t care,” Eli grunted, grasping her thighs and tugging her into the middle of the bed.
>
“I’m comprehending that,” she murmured, watching him through heavy lids. Her hair was everywhere and she had sheet creases lining her left side but to say she was anything other than absolutely beautiful would be a crime in his eyes.
Rising over her, Eli leaned forward and rubbed the tip of his nose across her cheek, down her jaw and kissed the hollow of her throat. “Hi.”
One small warm palm worked its way from his hip to his shoulders, rubbing in soothing circles as she leaned up and caught his bottom lip with her teeth. “Hi.”
The last few days had been spent on the beach, tumbling around in crystal waves and listening to Ranchera under the moon while plying themselves with albondingas, caldo de pollo and carne guisada at local restaurants. They’d gone kayaking and body boarding, had taken a Salsa class that Carmen was amazingly adept at and done a candle making workshop that she talked him into. It had been… incredible. Her laughter, her voice, the way she sputtered when he’d purposely flipped the kayak after she’d called him old because he’d gotten tired of paddling half way through. To lie and tell himself that he wasn’t falling would be the greatest injustice he’d ever committed. Maybe she’d been right to deny him all the time, maybe he needed those long weeks that stretched into months to understand that his fascination with her wasn’t based on a visceral physical attraction but the summon of just her smile.
He’d gotten a taste of what it was like to truly be with Carmen Sanchez and he had no intention of giving that up. They’d talked, they’d teased, they’d laughed and they’d made love in some of the most dubious places. She was spontaneous and funny and ridiculously sexy. Eli was, in a word, absorbed in her. He was totally, completely, absorbed.
When she’d revealed why she’d become a chef the night before her gaze had been open, full of nostalgia. From there she’d laughingly told him many stories of teenage antics. Like the time she and Addison left a burning bag of dog shit in the locker of a football player, who’d tried to date the both of them without the other’s knowledge. And the first time they’d come to Mexico on their own, ran out of money on their last day and Addison bartered her way out of a heavy restaurant bill by flashing the maître d’.
