Claiming Carlos

by Rachelle Ayala

  “You’re breaking my heart.” Johnny bends low, clutching his chest.

  He has to be acting. No guy gets their heart broken from a joking-around flirtation.

  “Let’s eat.” I grab the greasy pizza box. I can’t believe Mr. Healthy non-GMO Gluten-Free brought me pepperoni and cheese pizza.

  Johnny slides a slice onto a paper plate. He opens a bottle of beer. “Have a beer. Since you refuse to marry me, how about I be your new best friend?”

  My head swirls at the turnaround. Now he’s going for best buddy?

  “Who are you, Johnny Dee? What do you want?”

  He takes a beer and guides me to the couch. “To have a place in your life. To be part of your family.”

  Chills prick the back of my neck. This sounds creepy, stalker creepy, like he planned to foist himself on us since the beginning.

  “Why my family? What’s so great about us?”

  “Other than you?” He flashes me a wide grin. “I wish I had brothers and sisters growing up. You have Brian, Genie, and Livy all looking up to you. I never had a real family. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, my mother jumping from one relationship to another.”

  “How about your father?”

  “Provided child support. But obviously he kept me away from his real family.”

  “Did he have visitation? Do things with you?”

  “Nope. He came over a few times, but my mother would try to seduce him, so he stopped contact and dealt with us through his lawyers.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I bet all of you hate me now.” He hangs his head and drinks from his beer bottle. “It’s always like this. Whenever I think I’ve finally found a place, my mother comes into the picture and ruins things.”

  Wow. I never thought Johnny would have such a horrible childhood. I’m almost sympathetic, but again, things don’t feel real. Why’s he spilling his guts? What does he want?

  “What do you think will happen to your mother?”

  “Hopefully they’ll settle for a lesser crime, unlawful discharge of a firearm. There’s a video that shows the gun didn’t go off until someone tackled her, so it’s not entirely her fault.” He squeezes his fist and stands. “My dad has to bail her out. He owes her.”

  “Owes her? What for?”

  “For never telling his family about us.”

  Ha, and she thinks blackmail’s doing someone a favor? No wonder Johnny’s so warped. I wonder what Miranda has on my father that made him bring her into our restaurant business.

  “Here, have another beer.” I fetch him a bottle. “Why would my father go along with your mother’s schemes? Any ideas?”

  “You really don’t know?” He narrows his eyes. “Come on, you must have some clue.”

  “None at all, Johnny. You tell me. Why is my father turning the restaurant over to you?”

  “Because he’s selling it to me.” He sets his bottle on the coffee table, making a loud bang. “My father’s giving your dad an offer he can’t refuse, given the current problems you’re having.”

  “Caused by you and your mom.” Now I’m getting pissed. Who does he think he is to just waltz in and walk away with our restaurant? I stand up and walk toward the door. “Congratulations on screwing up our restaurant and lowballing my father. I don’t think we can be friends after this.”

  “Whoa, wait. You can’t pin the sabotage on us. We didn’t do it. We’re trying to get my dad to pay a high price.”

  “Why? Kickbacks?”

  “Of course not.” His voice wobbles. “If anyone’s trying to lower the price, it has to be Julia’s parents or someone in their pocket. I heard they’re bidding as a wedding gift.”

  “Julia’s parents? Wedding gift?”

  “For Carlos and Julia. Would you rather have me own it or them?”

  “I have to stop my parents from selling.” I scramble in my purse for my cell phone. “My father can’t sell the restaurant to anyone. It’s his lifeblood. My mother’s too.”

  “They might want to sell. Hasn’t it occurred to you they want to retire and go traveling?”

  My hands shake, and I let the cell phone drop onto the sofa. Things change. That’s what my father said. But I don’t want them to change. I want my family the way it always was: the restaurant, the cooks, the waitresses, and the softball team. And then there’s Livy. I had visions of her waiting tables with me once she’s old enough. She’d celebrate her thirteenth birthday at Barrio XO, have her graduation party, her engagement party, her wedding, all surrounded by family and friends.

  And Carlos. I can never walk into the restaurant if he and Julia own it. I’d feel like a third wheel, completely out of place.

  “Hey, you okay?” Johnny rubs my hand. “My father will pay whatever I ask him to, sweeten the deal. Right now, your father’s torn between selling for a lower price to Julia’s family or taking my dad’s double-the-price offer.”

  A sinking feeling drags my stomach into my gut. I drop to the floor in front of the coffee table and cradle my head on the table. Had Carlos really called it off with Julia? What if he’s set to get Barrio XO without me?

  “Hey, hey, it’ll be okay.” Johnny rubs the back of my neck. “If you marry me, you’ll still own Barrio XO, or the new Manila Cloud. It’ll be me and you, Johnny and Concha.”

  I blow out a cleansing breath. “I’m sorry. I know you’re being nice, but right now, I’m confused. Why do you want Barrio XO?”

  “It’s a great location. I’m thinking of settling down and providing for my family, once I get one.” He bends over and kisses me on the temple. “Think about my offer.”

  “Johnny? It’s all too much. I can’t think about anything right now but my family.”

  “I understand.” He taps the coffee table. “I’ll let myself out, but next week, how about I take you and Livy sailing? I’m sure it beats go carts and miniature golf.”

  “Uh, sure. Maybe. But you’re not competing with Carlos, are you?”

  “It’s your choice.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze and saunters out the door, leaving me with a tight chest, and a mind reeling for answers.

  # # #

  “Choco?” Carlos’s voice comes through the open door. “What was Johnny doing here?”

  Carlos steps in and surveys the half eaten pizza. Picking up an empty beer bottle, he advances toward the sofa. “I just passed him in the hallway. I thought you said you’d be busy with your family.”

  “I was, but I came back here to pack.”

  He cocks his head and narrows his eyes.

  What’s wrong with him? We sleep together once, and he thinks he owns me?

  “Whatever.” I toss a throw pillow back on the sofa. “Johnny stopped by with dinner. Want a slice?”

  “Congealed pork grease, high cholesterol cheese, a gluten bomb. No thanks.” Carlos’s nose crinkles and he fans his face. “Reeks of beer. Come on, let’s go to my place and talk.”

  I dutifully follow after him. I have questions for him anyway.

  When we get to his apartment, he slams the door and pulls me into his arms. “What a day. I miss you already.”

  His lips descend on mine before I have a chance to say anything. He kisses me hard, sucking on my lower lip, then grinding his mouth against my parted lips.

  I can’t help it. I want him so much. My arms twine around his neck, and I’m practically climbing his body.

  “Mmm …” he mutters before finishing the kiss with a loud smack. “There, does that answer your question?”

  “What question?”

  “Whether I called my parents and told them I was never really engaged to Julia.”

  “Oh, yeah, how did they take it?”

  “My father’s happy because he never wants to travel, and my mother, well, let’s just say she’s concerned.”

  “Did she say anything about me?”

  “No, it was kind of eerie.” Carlos tips his head back. “For once in her life, she was quiet. I had to ask my father if
she’s still breathing.”

  I back away from his embrace. “That worries me. You sure you didn’t breath a word about us?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He lowers his head to my level and narrows his eyes. “What’s going on? Now that I’m not fake-engaged to Julia, why can’t I tell them about you? Or is there something else?”

  “Nothing.” My voice comes out sweet and chirpy. The important thing, he’s not marrying Julia. No need to let him know about the surprise wedding gift or that he lost Barrio XO by breaking the engagement.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” His eyebrows narrow. “When a woman says ‘nothing’ there’s a whole lot of something back in her mind. Spit it out.”

  “I’d rather swallow.” I form an ‘O’ with my lips and lick around the rim of my mouth. Distraction should do wonders on a hot guy like Carlos. “Do you have any more of that champorado?”

  “Yeah, but why?”

  Why? To celebrate. Tita Gloria’s far away in the Philippines. Julia’s history. Whatever happens, we have tonight, and I’m not going to waste it.

  I saunter to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and retrieve a bowl covered with saran wrap. “Because I’m going to spread it all over you and lick.”

  He freezes in his tracks. His eyes widen. His jaw drops, then clamps, and drops again.

  “I thought we were in the middle of a discussion,” he finally says, lamely. “You still haven’t told me what Johnny was doing in your apartment.”

  “You talk. I’ll eat.” I unwrap the bowl, a smile slowly raising my cheeks. As I turn to grab a spatula from his drawer, I lick my lips, long and slow. Then swaying my hips, I head for his bedroom.

  I slide his velvety bedspread from his mattress and lie sideways. Oh yeah, he clearly wants it, but he’s not sure how to proceed suavely.

  Lying back, I wiggle my fingers in a come-to-baby movement. There, he’s hooked.

  Grinning wickedly, he pulls his T-shirt over his head and exposes his smooth, delectable chest.

  “Take off your pants,” I order. “Boxers too.”

  Obediently, he unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. His erection is already tenting his boxers. By the time he lowers them, his glorious cock stands at full attention.

  “Now, lie down.” I kneel on the bed. “Hands over your head, no touching.”

  He complies, spreading himself on the bed, his hands above his head, elbows bent.

  “Yum, yum, nommers.” I swirl the spatula in the cold chocolate pudding. “Ready?”

  A glop of pudding drops on his belly, and I spread it delicately with the spatula.

  Goose bumps erupt over his skin, and he draws in a sharp breath. I paint a heart over his abdominals then the letter ‘I’ between his pectorals and the letter ‘U’ right below his belly button.

  I dip the spatula of cold rice pudding and hold it over his cock.

  He groans and shakes his head. “Oh no, no, it’s freezing.”

  “Stay still.” Moving at the pace of molasses, I paint his cock with the champorado.

  “Ow, oh, ow.” Carlos grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes. “You’re torturing me.”

  “This is live art. Too bad no one’s filming.” I frost the tip of his cock with the pudding, taking care to cover the entire surface.

  His erection loses some steam, not surprising, and I have to giggle when his balls pucker up. Should I?

  “How blue do you think your balls will get?”

  “No!” He jerks up onto his elbows. “Or I’m going to pay you back. Ube ice cream in your pussy.”

  “Oh, you’re talking dirty. I like.” I set the bowl aside and tie my hair back. I scoop a dab of champorado into Carlos’s mouth and lean over to kiss him.

  The sweet, bitter, smooth velvety taste of chocolate is wrapped up in a kiss that sweeps all my inhibitions away. I’m clamped onto his lips, but desperately unbuttoning my blouse. I shrug off my top and Carlos helps me shed my pants. Once my underwear is off, he pulls me flat onto him, smushing the cool, slippery, sticky chocolate mess all over my breasts and belly.

  His cock twitches against my pubic area, sending chills and shivers up and down my spine.

  I push off him. “Hey, no fair rubbing it off on me.”

  “Ladies first.” He straddles me over him, cups my breasts and starts licking.

  “Yow!” I throw my head back, shocked by the exquisite sensation.

  Carlos latches onto my nipple. He devours the chocolate slathered over my breasts, leaving them sticky and tingling, before flipping me on my back and laving every bit of chocolate off my chest with his talented tongue.

  My breathing becomes uneven and it’s hard to keep still, as his kisses and licks move lower toward the region between my legs …

  Part VI - Carlos / Chapter 35

  Dang she was beautiful, spread out on his bed, the flesh between her legs glistening, both from her juices and the chocolate pudding.

  If she knew how often he’d fantasized about her, jerked off while picturing her in his bed, underneath him, on top of him, riding him, forwards, backwards, up against the wall, and down on his butcher block table.

  Choco was never, ever just a friend. He’d hidden behind that word because it was what she wanted. Safe, fun, and low-key. But now that he’d tasted her, he never want to quit.

  He moved his face between her legs, heartened at her gasp, the way her fingers clenched his sheets, and how she opened up to him, unafraid and trusting. He’d always known she’d be hot. Hiding behind that responsible elder sister mask was a vixen. And oh, how he was going to make her scream.

  But not yet.

  Carlos nibbled at the tender flesh of her inner thighs and licked the spots of smeared chocolate. She wasn’t the only one who loved champorado. It was his comfort food too.

  Choco quivered and moaned, jerking her hips and trying to get his mouth over her sweet, wet pussy. He continued to lazily lap at her thighs, going from one leg to the other. He’d be thorough, make sure all the pudding was licked off before going for the prize.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

  She grunted and moved her mound toward his mouth.

  “Use words,” he teased. “Didn’t your mama tell you to use words?”

  “Kiss me.”

  He swooped over her and crushed his lips to her mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers. She melted into the kiss, but her lower body struggled, frustrated, because he knew damn well she didn’t mean to kiss her on the lips.

  He kissed her good and heavy, had her mewing with need, before he unlocked her lips and asked again, “What do you want Carlos to do to you?”

  “Lick me, please.”

  “Where?”

  “Down there,” she uttered, her voice small, unsure.

  “Where’s there?”

  She pointed between her legs. He could almost taste her nectar, sweet and yummy.

  “Words,” he demanded.

  “On my you know.”

  “You know? What’s a you know?”

  She pounded his shoulder. “Stop teasing me.”

  “Say the words, specifically.” He licked his lips exaggeratedly, running his tongue around. “I’m waiting.”

  “My pussy, lick me there.”

  He lowered himself between her legs and lapped at the edges of her folds, his nose nudging her nub of pleasure.

  She moaned and arched her hips, her fingers clenching his shoulder, desperately grasping for pleasure, but he wasn’t done torturing. He continued to work his tongue around her most sensitive areas without penetrating her inner folds. He’d make her beg further.

  “Am I at the right place?” he asked.

  “Higher, please.”

  “Higher where? Is there a name for it?”

  “You’re really going to make me beg?” She slapped his shoulder, her legs kicking.

  “I love you begging. Use the proper word.” He nipped her clitoral hood gently, driving her into a frenzy of quivers.

  “My
clit, lick it.” Without waiting, she spread her skin and exposed her pink, sensitive pleasure center.

  He was on it, gently, like a whisper, without direct pleasure until he was sure she could take it.

  Her fingers wrapped around the hair on his head and she pulled him into her further. Her juices mixed with the chocolate into a heavenly ambrosia.

  Soon she was rotating her hips and rubbing into him, soaking his lips. He inserted a finger into her and tickled her from the inside. She clenched and tightened, shuddering for several seconds before releasing the sharp exhalations of her orgasm, gushing wet.

  A rush of heat and pride filled Carlos. He’d never made a woman come like this before, never been so intimate, so tender, taking his time and savoring the moments.

  He kissed her through the aftershocks and buried his face between her legs, controlling the urge to plunge his cock into the luscious pussy he’d licked clean.

  Choco tugged his hair and lifted his head. The dazed and satisfied look in her eyes was reward enough, but he wasn’t finished, not when he had the rest of the night.

  “Your turn, buddy.” She sat and pulled him over her. “Roll over, on your back.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” he grunted, not about to get in a submissive position.

  “Then hold still because I’m going to move down on you.”

  Glorious. He held himself over her as she slid down, her tongue licking the remnants of pudding on his chest. It tickled and he could barely stand it. His erection ached, and all his muscles tensed, coiled as a tight spring.

  Her tongue made long swipes over his washboard abs, and he almost came when she smushed her lips below his belly button and dragged them down to catch his cock.

  When she wrapped her mouth around it, bells rang and pleasure surrounded him. Hot. Moist. Tight. Her tongue slurped around, churning, and driving him dizzy. He fisted the bed sheets, sucked in his breath, barely able to keep his hips from rocking.

  She was incredible, a gift he’d never expected, the guiding star for his life. At this moment, his love crested, and his world narrowed to one single need—to be one with her, inside her, sharing her world, his, theirs, together.

  Straining not to lose control, he yanked her beautiful lips from him, yowling inside from the sudden detachment. He sheathed himself and plunged his lips over her mouth. Slowly, inch by inch, he slid into her, stretching her, pausing to let her take him in. Each stroke opening her to him, staking his claim, marking her with his love.