by CJ Bishop
“Are you okay with me going with Flynn to his apartment, papá?” Caterina asked. “I don’t want to cause you anymore worry tonight.”
Lorenzo hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Go. I know you will be safe.” He stepped back and looked at Caterina, Cruz, and Sanchez. “You and the other boys, I think you’ve given me a few new grays hairs.”
“Ah, but it works for you, papá.” Cruz smiled and walked over, hugging his father. “Makes you look very distinguished.” The other laughed lightly and agreed.
Lorenzo plucked at his strands. “Most of these came from you, mijo.”
“I wasn’t that bad.”
His father chuckled and hugged him hard. “No, you weren’t, mijo. You’ve been a very good son.”
“Aww,” Sanchez teased. “Such a good boy.” The gleam in his eye insisted he knew better.
Caterina gave a round of hugs then left with Flynn.
“She’s okay, papá,” Cruz assured his father when Caterina was gone. “Really. She picked a good man this time. I think he’s the one.”
“I agree,” Sanchez concurred. “Flynn cares for her deeply.”
“I see that,” Lorenzo said. “I’m not worried about mija.”
Cruz exchanged an uncertain look with Sanchez. “Then what is it, papá? Something is troubling you.”
“I’m fine, mijo,” his father smiled and hugged him again. “Days like today just remind me how fragile life is and brings to mind those who have left us. I miss them. Diego and Marissa, your beloved mamá.” A distant look crept into his eyes for a fleeting moment. “Caterina’s papá…Salvatore.” He blinked and Cruz detected a dampness of tears. “I miss my friend,” he whispered. “Most of all on nights like tonight.”
His father had friends, but no one he was as close to as Salvatore De Luca. They had been there for each other through the darkest moments of their lives. Had he not known his father to be a heterosexual man, he would have interpreted their relationship to be much more than mere friendship. But some men were just that—very good friends.
“He was a good man, papá,” Cruz murmured.
Lorenzo smiled softly. “Indeed, mijo.” He kissed his son’s cheek, then hugged Sanchez and kissed his cheek. “You two, go on to bed. You’ve had a very long and stressful day.”
“Are you turning in, papá?” Cruz asked.
“Soon,” Lorenzo said quietly. “I just want to sit up by the fireplace for a while. You know how the flames soothe me.”
There was a deep sadness in his father tonight and it made Cruz’s heart ache. Though Lorenzo Santiago was surrounded by “family”, sometimes he seemed so alone…and lonely.
“Okay,” Cruz whispered. “Good night, papá. Te amo.”
“Te amo, mijo.” He looked at Sanchez with affection. “Y te amo, Emilio.”
“I love you, too,” Sanchez smiled.
The two men left Lorenzo to his fire-gazing and headed upstairs. They stopped off to speak briefly with Rodriguez who had been officially patched up by Dr. Perelli less than thirty minutes ago, then went on to their room.
“Your father seems lonely,” Sanchez said, closing the bedroom door. “Maybe we should do some matchmaking. Find him a sweet, lovely lady to make him feel young and sexy again.” He smiled.
“I don’t think he’d be too happy if we started setting him up,” Cruz chuckled. “Besides, what women do we know? Almost everyone we’re acquainted with are gay men.”
“Even better.” Sanchez wriggled his eyebrows. “Set him up with a man.”
Cruz shook his head. “I think he might actually kick our asses if we did that. No,” he sighed. “I think he’s just missing his best friend.”
“Well,” Sanchez walked over to him and peeled his shirt up over his head. “Since you’re going to shoot down all my ideas, I guess we’ll just have to fuck.”
“Just have to, huh?” Cruz smirked. “Sounds like you’re settling.”
Sanchez chuckled and shoved him down on the bed and crawled over the top of him. “Sounds that way, does it?” He sank to his elbows and let his body lower until he was resting against Cruz. He kissed him, drawing it out as he slid his fingers through Cruz’s hair and soft moans rolled up their throats. He slowly pulled from the kiss moments later and stroked Cruz’s strands as he gazed into his eyes.
Warm tingles quivered through Cruz and he saw the man’s heart in his eyes before it made it to his lips.
“I love you, Cruz Santiago,” Sanchez whispered with emotion. “That very first wild night we spent together…I fell in love with you. And I have loved you ever since.”
Cruz hugged his body and pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. “I love you, too. I fell in love with you that same night.” He rubbed his hands up Sanchez’s back. “I knew then and there that you were the man I wanted to spend my life with.” Nervousness gripped him but he pushed on, conquering his fears. “I want you to be my husband, Emilio.” He swallowed thickly and kissed him tenderly. “Will you marry me?”
•
It felt different being alone with Flynn in his apartment again, than it had when they’d been alone at Terrell Pisano’s house. Nor was it the same as the first couple nights she’d spend here in his apartment. There was so much more between them now; possibly more than they knew just yet. With all the stress and danger behind them, did Flynn still want the things he thought he’d wanted while their lives were in peril?
“Are you okay?” Flynn squeezed her hand then raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience, if you just want to rest and sleep, it’s all right. I just want you here with me, regardless what we do…or don’t do.”
Caterina gazed at him. “What if I really am pregnant?” she whispered. She tried to conceal the worry she was feeling, but heard it in her words as they slipped out.
Uncertainty etched Flynn’s face. “Do you hope that you’re not?”
She bit her lower lip, tears shimmering. “Do you?”
Flynn pulled her closer and wrapped her in his arms. “What you’re really asking is if I still mean what I said, aren’t you?” He kissed her softly. “I do. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”
“But would you really want a baby?” Caterina asked thickly, unsure why she was pushing this but unable to stop herself. “Or would you simply be doing the honorable thing because it was your responsibility?”
Flynn frowned. “I’m not entirely sure what you’re getting at,” he murmured. “But if you’re asking if I’d only be caring for my child out of obligation to you, then the answer is no. I never thought I would want to be a father, but the moment it became a possibility…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. If God decides to give us a child now, then I want it, Caterina. Very much. If he chooses to wait till later to give it to us, then I will wait as patiently as I can, but I will never stop looking forward to it. And, hopefully…” he smiled and kissed her deeply. “…we’ll never stop trying to make one.”
“So…” Caterina trembled, her heart fluttering. “…you don’t want to go back to using protection when we…?”
“I’ll leave that up to you to decide,” he whispered. “If you think we should wait until we’re deeper into our relationship, then I’ll respect your wishes. But if you’re ready now…so am I.”
Caterina tried to think in the long term, but it was so difficult while she was buried in Flynn’s arms as he talked about having babies with her. “What if…what if we give God a chance to show us what he wants for us?”
“How do we do that?”
“We use protection for now. Then I take a pregnancy test in week or two. If he wants us to have a baby now, I guess I’ll be pregnant. If not…then maybe we’re supposed to wait.” She looked at him anxiously. “What do you think?”
Flynn smiled and kissed her. “I think we have a plan.”
“You do have…protection…here in the apartment, right now…don’t you?” Caterina kissed his throat and slipped her hands under his
shirt. “Please say yes,” she moaned.
“Yes.” Flynn breathed deep and released it on a shaky exhale. “About a week’s worth.” He smiled down at her. “If we pace ourselves.”
Caterina rubbed her hands up his back beneath his shirt and lightly raked her nails back down. “Then we may need to buy more,” she whispered. “I don’t think pacing is going to be an option.”
•
Flynn bypassed the bed and took her to the shower, washing away the sweat and tension of the day. He just watched for a moment as Caterina stood beneath the hot spray, the steaming water causing her skin to flush. Her nipples pebbled when she noticed him staring, and he licked his lips, mouth salivating. His cock stretched, reaching for her, drooling.
Caterina held his eyes as she ran the soapy sponge all over her body, taking her time to suds up her tits. When Flynn drew closer, she wrapped the sponge and her hand around his dick and stroked his shaft. A low mmm rolled up his throat and he pushed his hips forward, sliding his cock through the slick, soapy cave. He reached down and took the sponge, then rubbed it between her thighs, letting his fingertip massage her clit as he washed her pussy.
“Flynn…” she shuddered and gripped his arms. Her whole body quivered as he circled her nub with his fingertip, round and round. “Oh God…” her throat worked and she clawed his arms, breath quickening—then she came with slight jerk of her hips and sharp gasp.
Flynn took the removable shower head and sank to his knees before her. She leaned against the shower wall, breast rising and falling with her unsteady breath. He washed the soap from between her legs, adjusted the force of the water spray, then spread her open and ran the firm stream against her clit until she was panting and coming again. He smiled and licked her, using his tongue and the water spray to bring her to orgasm a third time. He handed the shower head to her then slid his thumbs through her pussy, stretching her folds apart and with his strong lips, sucked her swollen clit.
“Uuhh…fuck…yes…”
Flynn slipped two fingers inside her and pumped deep as he licked and sucked her magic button. Caterina replaced the shower head on the holder then grabbed his hair with both hands, rocking her hips, fucking his fingers, whimpering and panting—and climaxing. Flynn withdrew his fingers and sank lower and sucked the sweet, hot juices from her body as her inner muscles pumped them onto his tongue. His cock was a steel rod, swaying stiffly, leaking precum. He stood on shaky legs and they finished washing then wasted no time getting to the bed.
They hadn’t taken time to dry off when they fell onto the sheets together. Flynn hurriedly sheathed his member in a condom, then he was inside Caterina. He held her ass, lifting her up as he thrust into her tight, wet heat, barely maintaining control.
Caterina locked her ankles around his lower back and squeezed his flanks with her inner thighs as she pumped herself on his hard cock. He went still for a moment, letting her fuck him. Shivers quivered through him as she drew closer and closer to orgasm. “Uuuh fuck!” she cried, gasping erratically, getting into it. She clawed the bed, shoving her arms against the mattress for leverage as her legs clenched tighter and she fucked him harder, faster, thrusting herself to climax. She screamed and a flood of wet heat engulfed his dick.
“Oh my God,” he gasped and let loose, fucking her wildly.
Caterina grabbed onto his straining body, gouging his flexing muscles, and fucked him back with as much enthusiasm. She came again—just moments before he shouted out loud and unloaded into the condom.
“Fuuck!” He fucked her furiously until the final waves of the orgasm passed through him. He shuddered hard and fell onto the bed beside her, sucking for breath. After a moment, he turned over and kissed her lips as she panted into his mouth. “Guess we had a little tension to get rid of, huh?” he smiled.
She laughed softly. “Just a bit.”
He stroked her flushed cheeks and kissed tenderly. “Once we can breathe again,” he murmured against her lips. “I want to make slow, sweet love to you. Would that be okay with you?”
Her breath shuddered in her throat and her eyes glistened. “I would like that very much.”
•
Will you marry me?
Sanchez went numb as he stared into Cruz’s eyes, those coveted words pushing deep into his heart. There was not a shadow of a doubt in his mind that this was what he wanted—he had known it from the first time he’d taken Cruz to bed—yet his throat felt paralyzed as that one word yes! struggled to get out.
Cruz slowly dragged Sanchez’s shirt up his back, caressing his warm muscles. “Do you want to fuck on it, and give me your answer later?” His mouth tugged a bit at the corner, eyes aglow with love; of course he knew Sanchez wanted this as much as he did.
Swallowing hard, Sanchez cleared his throat. “I, uh…I think I should give you my answer now, then fuck.”
“Whichever works for you.” Cruz smiled and kissed his neck as he removed Sanchez’s shirt. “As long as we get to fuck at some point.”
Sanchez shivered when Cruz danced his fingertips along his spine. “That’s a given,” he rasped. He ran his fingers through Cruz’s hair and kissed him. Cruz opened his mouth to his tongue, sucking him in as his arms tightened around Sanchez’s body, hips lifting, giving evidence of his want and need for his lover. Sanchez instinctively shoved his crotch harder against him as their arousal heightened. When he managed to pull from the kiss, he panted heavily, his wet lips grazing Cruz’s mouth as he whispered shakily, “Yes.” His breath shuddered as a flood of emotion crashed over him. “I will marry you. There’s nothing I want more than to be your husband.” He brushed his fingers across Cruz’s bruised face. “When I came into that room and saw you there, tied to the chair, the scuffs on your face…and you not moving.” He pressed his head to Cruz’s brow. “For a split second, I thought what if he’s dead? And as quickly, my entire future without you flashed before me.” He blinked and a tear dripped down onto Cruz’s face. “That’s not a future I ever want to live in.”
“That isn’t going to be your future, or mine.” Cruz kissed him and caressed his body. “We’re home, we’re safe. We didn’t lose anyone today. We live in the moment and thank God that all our loved ones are still with us, and we don’t waste precious time worrying about what could have happened, or what might happen in the future.” Cruz kissed him deeply. “Let’s just live in the now, because…” he smiled and rubbed his hands lower, gently squeezing Sanchez’s ass. “…the now is pretty damn good.”
CHAPTER 39
“Real Life Fantasies”
______________________________________________
“What’re you doing?” Cruz propped on his elbows as Sanchez crawled off the bed and walked over to the bureau. His body blocked Cruz’s view.
“You gave me what I’ve always wanted when you proposed,” Sanchez said without turning around. “It’s only fair that I give you something special in return.”
An uncertain smile crossed Cruz’s face. “Yeah? Such as?”
Sanchez shifted a little and Cruz saw the iPod docked on the small speaker. His pulse kicked up a notch. Sanchez faced him, a sly smile on his handsome face. “Let’s do this right.” He dragged the desk chair out into the center of the room. “Take off your pants but leave your briefs, then sit in the chair.”
A quiet chuckle sifted from Cruz. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He cocked his head as he slowly slid to the end of the bed. “Because if you’re just teasing me, I might actually die. And remember—that’s not a future you want to live in.”
“I’m not teasing.” Sanchez walked over and cupped his head as Cruz sat on the end of the bed. He kissed him firm on the mouth. “And you’re not going to die.” He paused, looked thoughtful, then doubtful. “Well…that one’s not a guarantee. But if you stop breathing, I’ll be here to give you some mouth to mouth.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll need it.” Cruz shivered with anticipation, his erection a raging force in his shorts. This was not something h
e would have expected in a million years. He was thankful Sanchez could still surprise him from time to time. So thankful.
“Go on,” Sanchez said. “Get comfortable.” He walked to the bathroom after grabbing something from the top drawer of the bureau. “I’ll be right back.”
He’s going to fucking kill you—you know that, right?
But what a way to go.
Cruz shed his pants and sat down on the cushioned desk chair. His crotch bulged, stretching his already snug boxer briefs, the white fabric accentuating his hard cock with perfect clarity. He refused his hands the liberty to fondle his package as he waited for Sanchez to return.
When the bathroom door opened, Sanchez emerged wearing his typical robe. He walked to the bureau and turned on the music. An upbeat Adam Lambert song began to pulse out of the small but effective speaker. Had he mentioned to Sanchez that every time he heard this song, he fantasized about him stripping to the beat? He probably had—many times.
His entire thought process melted away when Sanchez threw off the robe, revealing the black mesh G-string underneath—leaving nothing to the imagination. Oh fuck, Cruz shuddered. Come to daddy.
The ease with which Sanchez’s body caught the rhythm of the music forced Cruz to wonder if he had been moonlighting at the Phoenix Club. The sudden imagery of the man up on stage, making full use of the stripper pole, caused an overload to his senses—and his shorts. Please say it’s true—I promise I won’t be mad.
The sensual sway of Sanchez’s hips, and supple shifted of his entire body mesmerized Cruz as if he were being hypnotized by a cobra. His heart thumped louder and harder, itself keeping time with the beat of the song. His breath staggered in his throat when Sanchez straddled his lap and gripped his shoulders, eyes ablaze, as his bulging crotch grazed Cruz’s chest. His exposed ass dipped and swayed, brushing and teasing Cruz’s straining cock. Cruz tentatively rested his hands on the man’s heated thighs, then his hips, drowning in the rhythm of his gorgeous, sexy body.
