by E M Lindsey
Miguel reached down and cupped the underside of Amit’s bicep, leaning down to drag his lips over the healed ink. “I have something for you.”
Amit chuckled under his breath. “Yeah?”
“I was going to get flowers,” Miguel said, and carefully drew back, pulling Amit toward the bed with him. “But you’re not really a flowers guy, are you?”
“I don’t know. There’s something to be said about a fresh bouquet,” Amit told him. “And I do like daisies.”
Miguel filed that away for later, thanking god he knew a florist personally. But right now, he wanted to focus on this. He picked up the box, then handed it to Amit and stepped back. “Ruby and Amaranth helped me out. Which actually sounds a little weird since I know you used to fuck Ruby, but uh…but I was lost.”
Amit’s brows were high on his forehead, and there was a slight tremble to his fingers as he pulled the top off and parted the tissue paper. Miguel knew what he was seeing. Fishnets, garters, panties, and a skirt that he knew would show the bottom curve of his ass when he put it on.
“Is this…”
“I guess it’s mostly selfish,” Miguel admitted as he watched Amit set the box down and carefully pull out the fishnet thigh-highs. “I thought of you in that stuff and I almost busted a nut right there in the shop.”
Rolling his eyes, Amit pushed the rest of the tissue paper around, then his eyes fell on what sat at the bottom, and Miguel heard him suck in a sharp breath. “The painting…you finished it?”
Miguel nodded, biting his lip for a second. “It’s not my best work, but I did it for you. I was going to toss it, but I’ve had a lot of sleepless nights since I got back, and you were in my head for every single one of them.”
Amit looked up at him with shock on his face, but enough heat in his eyes that Miguel thought maybe this time he got it right. “You,” he started, then shook his head. His face did something complicated, and for a second, Miguel thought he was mad. Then, Amit sniffed, and his mouth trembled as he threw himself into Miguel’s arms.
“Hey,” he soothed, rubbing his hand down Amit’s spine. “I’m sorry, was this wrong?”
“No, you stupid idiot,” Amit said with a watery laugh. “How the hell are you in my life? How…fuck.” He pulled back and looked at him. “I’m learning to accept myself—to love myself as I am, but I can’t lie, it makes it so much easier when you like me this way too.”
Miguel cupped Amit’s cheek. “I love you this way,” he said, his fear consuming, but not choking him this time. “I love you.”
Amit swallowed heavily, then curled his hand around Miguel’s wrist. “Do you?”
“Yes,” Miguel said. “If you don’t love me back, I can live with that. I just need you to know that you’re important just as you are. Um. Amaranth is teaching me sign language. Privately, you know, so you don’t always have to work to hear me. I want to do things on your terms. Tony offered me a job here—and I said yes. Not for you, but having you means a lot.”
Amit bit his lip, then stepped close enough their bodies pressed flushed together. “I was accepted to an online school. It’s not as prestigious as some of my other offers, but I want to be with you. I want to be close to my sisters and my mom. I don’t want to lose what I have.”
Miguel let go of the breath he was holding, then finally—after what felt like an actual eternity—pulled Amit in and kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Amit felt like he was falling, then suddenly lifted by strong arms and suspended in the air. Miguel’s lips on his, tongue in his mouth, felt like quenching a thirst he’d been ignoring for far too long. He’d been so sure he’d never have this again—then so sure he’d never take Miguel back—but he didn’t regret it for a second. The sincerity in Miguel’s face, the work he’d put in, the promise that rang so fucking true, Amit was in love.
“What do you want?” Amit asked, his lips moving right up against Miguel’s.
“You,” Miguel answered, then pulled away with a slightly devious look. “I want to dress you in this, and I want to make up your face, and then I want to ride your dick.”
Amit groaned, all of his blood rushing south so fast he got dizzy. He pressed his forehead against Miguel’s sternum and breathed out. “Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, I can work with that.”
He wasn’t ready to admit how that was one of his wildest fantasies, that it was more than he’d ever been able to come up with on his own. The thought of Miguel peeling him out of these clothes, and slipping him into new ones. The thought of him dragging shadow over his eyes, and gloss over his lips, then riding his dick…he wasn’t going to last. It would be a miracle if he made it past the garters.
He let Miguel ease him onto the bed, his hands carefully working at the button of his jeans. He pulled them off, flinging them across the room, then carefully eased his shirt away. When Amit lay there completely naked, in total opposition to Miguel’s fully clothed body, he thought he might combust. He was so primed, so sensitive, the drag of Miguel’s jeans-covered thigh against his naked one made him cry out.
Miguel chuckled but didn’t say anything as he carefully took the panties out of the box. They came with the belt attached, and Miguel’s hands slid up his legs as he eased them over his hips. They cupped his balls snugly, his cock straining against the lace and silk, and he tried not to wriggle too much for fear of losing all control right there.
“You… so…,” Miguel muttered.
Amit frowned. “What?”
Miguel flushed a bit and shrugged, lifting his hand up to sign. ‘You’re so gorgeous.’
Seeing his language on Miguel’s hand was overwhelming for a long second, and he let himself focus on the way Miguel was touching him instead. Amit drew his bottom lip between his teeth, fisting his hands in his bedspread as Miguel took the first thigh-high and rolled it up. The netting stretched to its limit over his large calf, his thigh testing the strength of the elastic, but when Miguel fastened the clips, Amit jolted at how right it felt. Miguel lingered with the second leg, pressing soft kisses to his naked thigh before pulling the elastic into place, then he ducked his head and mouthed over the silk holding Amit’s rock-hard dick.
“Fuck, babe,” Amit gasped, thrusting against Miguel’s mouth even though he knew it was almost too much. “Careful. I’m like seconds away from coming.”
Miguel chuckled, giving him one last, wet kiss in the crook of his thigh before pulling back. He reached for the skirt last, the size perfect as it slid up his legs and over his hips. It was an elastic waist, and it stretched over the curve of his backside. If he slipped out of the panties, his dick would hang below the hem.
Miguel took a minute, sitting back to just look at the picture Amit made on the bed, and Amit had to wonder what he saw. He wasn’t brave enough to ask though, and he thought maybe Miguel wanted that for himself. He wouldn’t begrudge the man.
Easing up, Miguel rummaged through Amit’s things and came away with his clear bottle of lip gloss and nothing else. “I’d like to get you dolled up one day, but I don’t think I have the patience for it right now,” Miguel told him, his voice strained.
Amit was beyond grateful for that. He felt seconds away from bursting, and he knew if Miguel didn’t do something about it soon, no one would be riding anyone’s cock. He spread his legs slightly, letting Miguel kneel between them as he moved to the edge of the bed, and his breath came out all in a rush as Miguel twisted open the gloss. He held the wand in a slightly awkward grasp with his right hand, palm curled over it, and the knuckle of his thumb keeping it steady. Amit part his lips, closing his eyes, and he simply let himself feel as the cushioned applicator brushed the thick, sticky liquid over his skin.
It didn’t take as long as he’d hoped, but it also felt like a near eternity before Miguel was done. It was absurd in a way—his plan, if he was lucky, was to have it kissed off by the time Miguel had lowered himself onto his waiting dick—but he didn’t care. This meant something. This felt like somethin
g huge.
“I need you,” Amit said. He opened his eyes to find Miguel standing, stripping out of his jeans and shirt. His dick stood proud in front of him, a little purple near the head, dripping with precome. He watched with hitched breath as Miguel curled his fingers around it and stroked a couple of times. “Do you want me to get you ready?”
Miguel shook his head. “I want to feel you. Every inch. Just…go slow, okay?”
Amit reached for him, unable to stop himself, fingers digging into Miguel’s hips. The scar tissue on his left side was firm, unforgiving, and he wondered if Miguel could feel his grip. “You control the pace, okay? You take me.”
Miguel’s breath was shaky, but he nodded as he leaned off to the side, digging through the box and came back with lube and a condom. “It won’t be as good. My hip,” he said, then grimaced. “It has shitty range of motion, doesn’t move the way it should. If you want…”
“I want you. I don’t care how,” Amit told him. He backed up toward the pillows, feeling the scrape of his blankets along the fishnets. “I want you to peel me out of these panties with your teeth, take my cock into your mouth and get it really wet. Then put the condom on and fuck yourself open on my dick.”
Miguel groaned, and his hands shook as he followed Amit over the mattress. He muscled Amit’s legs apart, hooking around the elastic of the panties, and they came off, taking the tights with them. Amit missed the feel of them, but having Miguel touching him everywhere, skin against skin, was more than enough. His head fell back against the pillows as Miguel opened up to take him in, and it was a near miracle that he didn’t come when Miguel pulled back to swirl his tongue around the head.
“Now,” Amit said in a shattered tone. “Now, or I won’t last.”
Miguel followed Amit’s instructions to the letter—rolling on the condom, lubing him up until it pooled in his hair, then spread his own legs and positioned himself. Amit wanted to help, wanted to grab Miguel and lead him down, and control the pace, but this wasn’t about him. Not right at that moment, anyway. He was giving Miguel a piece of him, and Miguel was finally letting himself take without fear of consequences or the future.
Amit grunted when his dick breeched the tight ring of muscle, and he curled his toes in an attempt to control his urge to come. “Fuck. Babe, I hope you’re close because I’m not going to last long at all. I promise, I’m trying, but…”
“It’s fine,” Miguel said, breathy and so soft, Amit mostly had to read his lips. “I need…can…touch…?”
“Touch you?” Amit asked, trying to be certain he was getting it all.
Miguel nodded. “How…how do you sign, touch me?”
Amit showed him, the distraction helping pull him back from the edge, even if it was damn near impossible to concentrate with the feeling of Miguel slowly widening and opening around him. “Touch me,” he repeated aloud.
Miguel copied him, and seeing Miguel’s hands was enough to hurtle him right back to the edge. He reached down, pinching the side of his leg hard just as Miguel bottomed out. When he rolled his hips in a circle, Amit’s head fell back, and a moan ripped from his chest.
Miguel was saying something after that, but it was just noise, just words, blending into the sea of muffled sound he couldn’t quite make out, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t want to pay attention to the nuances, he just wanted to feel this. Miguel’s hands brushed up his chest, the fingers on his left hand toying with his nipple ring, tugging just enough to send zinging pleasure through his body.
Amit fucked his hips up, unable to keep his promise to let Miguel take control, but the other man didn’t seem to care. He leaned in, capturing Amit’s mouth, his split tongue curling around Amit’s, dragging the center across his bottom lip, and that was all it took.
He was coming, even as he scrambled for Miguel’s dick, stroking it hard and fast as his own pulsed inside the other man’s ass. He was still hard, still fucking upward as Miguel came, and the larger man collapsed forward on top of him, just barely able to keep from crushing him.
“Shit,” Miguel groaned against his ear.
Amit winced at the noise, easing Miguel off to the side so he could pull his hearing aids out. The muffled silence set in, fucking with his equilibrium for a handful of seconds, then it settled, and he breathed out. They were a mess—sticky with Miguel’s come and their sweat, but he didn’t care.
He gingerly removed the condom, tossing it to the side, then curled toward the other man, letting Miguel wrap him in a tight embrace. As his breathing calmed and his heart slowed, he could hear the soft murmurs Miguel made against his jaw.
“Thank you, love you, so perfect.”
Amit dragged his hand into Miguel’s hair and let the strands twist between his knuckles. “Thank you,” he said. He cupped the other man’s face between both hands and pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you too.” Miguel looked terrified, uncertain, and hopeful, which hurt Amit because he didn’t realize just how long Miguel had been waiting for confirmation that Amit felt the same way. “I do, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I’ve known for a while, but I thought…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to express his fears. “When you found out about your kid, I thought maybe it was a chance for you to have something you wanted. A family.”
“I have a family,” Miguel told him, bringing Amit’s hand to his mouth to kiss the center of his palm. “I have one right here.”
“So, you’re not going to move?” Amit asked. He’d been too afraid to ask any of the guys what happened with Miguel and his daughter, terrified to hear that Miguel was packing up for good.
“No.” Miguel shook his head and squeezed Amit’s hand tighter. “I signed my rights away. Her mom’s a mess, but she’s got grandparents that love her a lot, and if I do have a family, I want to have something that isn’t about ripping a kid away from the only place she’s ever felt safe.”
Amit bit his lip as he processed what Miguel was saying. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that alone. If I’d just said something…”
“I could have asked for your help. Or your company,” Miguel told him fiercely. “But I didn’t. I thought you deserved better. I don’t feel like that now,” he added before Amit could argue. “I deserve your love as much as you deserve mine.”
Amit nestled in closer and breathed in the soft scent of him. “So, you’re staying. Here, with the shop. With me.”
Miguel used the edge of his thumb knuckle to tip Amit’s head up, and when he had his attention, he nodded. “Mi querido, tú eres todo, para mi. I’m going to stay here. In that tiny little house for now. With the shop. And absolutely with you. If you’ll have me.”
Amit surged up and kissed him, the only real answer he was capable of giving. With the way Miguel gripped him tight, he knew it was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Miguel felt a small pang of loss as he watched Finn pack what meager belongings he had to take back to Florida with him. He felt a rush of guilt for how he’d neglected his companion, the way he’d left Finn on his own to find his own way while he dealt with his shit. But Finn didn’t seem too bothered. He had Luke going with him, the other man Miguel barely knew packing up his own bike before the final journey back to the east coast.
“I’m going to miss you,” Miguel told him.
Finn’s brows lifted. “Why?”
Miguel knew it was meant to be an honest question, not a cruel one, so he shrugged. “I had a good time riding across the country with you. And you’re my friend.”
Finn smiled a little shyly. “Yeah?”
“Yep. Amit and I will come visit, if you really plan to stay with Martin.”
“He offered us both a stall,” Finn answered. “I like it there. I have clients there, and I think I’m going to take a photography class at the community college.”
“That’ll be good for you.” Miguel wanted to hug him, but Finn wasn’t big on affection that way, so he stuck out his hand instead. When Finn gripped his arm, Mi
guel squeezed back. “You gonna be okay?”
Finn shrugged, letting out a sigh. “I like someone here. His name is Harry, and he likes me too, but he’s too nervous to move with me.” Finn rubbed the back of his neck and then leaned against his bike. “I was scared to go on this trip. I’ve never been away from home like that before, but it was good for me. My mom didn’t like it, but I did.”
Miguel laughed. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, not with my mom, she died when I was a kid. But I can imagine her nerves.”
“I’m not a kid,” Finn defended a little hotly. “I wanted Harry to be my boyfriend and come with me. He doesn’t have anyone here, but he told me we could try to make it work for a little while when I get back there. Long distance relationships don’t have good statistics, though.”
“But that doesn’t mean they all fail,” Miguel reminded him. “You could be in the minority.”
“I hope so. He makes me feel good. Better than anyone I dated before.”
Miguel was slightly surprised to hear something that personal. Finn always played his cards close to his chest, even on long stretches of hotel stays where they had no one but each other. “I have a good feeling about it.”
Before he could say anything else, the sound of a bike interrupted him, and Luke roared into a spot beside Finn. Miguel took a good look at him—tall, pale skin, his ink a lot of stark reds and blacks. He had the look of someone lost, and Miguel hoped that moving shops would make a difference.
“You two need any supplies before you take off?” he offered.
Luke looked over at Finn who shook his head, then he shrugged. “I’ve never done a drive this long before, but I think we’ll be alright. We have a couple hotels booked. Honestly I want to get the fuck out of here before my sister has an aneurysm and stages a human wall across the road.”
