by Shanna Bell
“Yes, we did. It’s just that none of the places I’ve seen so far is homey. Yes, they are beautiful, but I was hoping for something less elaborate and more in nature, if possible. I think you’ll be more comfortable there too.”
“I think I might know what you want,” the realtor chimed in.
Their next stop was a beautiful cottage. It was smaller compared to the houses they’d seen before, and had more of a rustic feel to it.
The realtor slid open the patio door and walked them onto the deck. The ocean view that greeted them was breathtaking. The deck went all the way around the house and ended in the master bedroom.
It was love at first sight. “I love it.”
Hector nodded. “We’ll take it.”
“I’ll take care of the paperwork,” the realtor said and left, busy talking on her phone.
“I’m confused,” Mary admitted.
“About what?”
“All of this, actually. I thought you were sorry about agreeing to marry me, and that was why you avoided me.”
“You don’t know this yet, but my word is my bond. Once I give it, I don’t take it back. As for the reason for me avoiding you…” He swooped her off her feet. With a startled cry, she put her arms around his neck. “It’s difficult to keep my hands off of you.”
The most intelligent retort she could come up with was, “Oh.”
“I’m not used to denying myself what I want,” he growled as he walked up the stairs.
“I don’t remember asking you to do that.”
“I wanna do this right. You know, take you on our wedding night. I can wait two more nights.”
She liked the idea of her wedding night being her first time, as old-fashioned as it may seem. “I would like that too. And, um, it’s only for… I mean we are getting married in only a few days, so…” When he grinned, she gave him another thump on his shoulder. It was like hitting a rock.
He dropped her onto the bed and crawled over her. “You shouldn’t have done that. It hurt.”
She scoffed. “As if.”
His eyes narrowed. “Someone’s being particularly bratty today.”
Someone was horny. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that. To herself. Out loud, to him, was a whole different matter. Then again, she didn’t have to tell him anything, she could show him.
She put her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. Let me kiss it better.” She gave him a slight peck on the cheek, and chuckled when he frowned. “What? A kiss is a kiss.”
“That’s not a kiss. This is.”
She expected him to crush his lips on hers. Instead, he made a trail down her body, pushing up her shirt, kissing her stomach, and going lower. He licked his way to her core, placing a kiss on her panties, taking in her scent. With one pull, he pushed them down and nuzzled the insides of her thighs, basically kissing everywhere but where she wanted.
She tried to guide him to her needy place, but he swatted her hands away. Then he flipped her onto her stomach. Her face hit the pillow with an umpf.
She stiffened from surprise when he gave her cheeks a few swats. Then he pulled her up on all fours.
He pulled off her top and bra, all the while making sure she stayed on her knees, facing the headboard.
Hector pushed her legs wider apart and she could feel his breath between her thighs. “I want to see you play with your breasts. Let me see you love yourself.”
It felt odd at first, playing with herself while he watched her from behind. By the time he finally started licking her pussy, she was sure she was about to combust. It felt as if she had come up with a sudden fever.
She grabbed both of her nipples, turning them, while riding his tongue. Trying to will him to push inside her. When he finally did, her hips bucked, and she let out a cry.
His tongue was followed by a thick finger, roaming inside her body. Then he added another digit, going deep. So deep.
Was that her who mewled like a kitten in distress?
“Shh. We’ll take this slow. I’m gonna stretch you first.”
The stretching of his fingers and tongue started to hurt, but she was beyond caring. She wanted him inside her. Now.
“Hector,” she pleaded, her voice throaty.
When she finally heard him unzip his pants, she let out a sigh of relief.
The head of his cock brushed against her cleft, going up and down, lubricating himself on her juices.
“Dios!”
One push against her back and she went face first into a pillow again. His hands covered hers, holding her down, as his hot rod grinded between her ass cheeks.
When she lifted her butt, silently asking him to enter her—she wasn’t going to make it until their wedding night—he bit her shoulder. She winced from the pain but was beyond caring.
His hard thrusts against her ass intensified. He grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed. Hard. Then he pushed two fingers inside her pussy, making her cry out in a sweet concoction of pain and near ecstasy.
“You don’t come until I tell you to,” he growled in her ear as he pulled out his fingers.
Was he kidding her? “Then maybe you should stop with… Oh, God.”
His dick hit her sweet spot. And by ‘hit,’ she meant he was tapping the tip of it against her pussy, taunting her, torturing her. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to come.
Then he let out a big grunt and she felt hot splatters against her ass and back. He placed the gentlest of kisses along her neck, where he’d bit her before.
His open palm swatted her clit. “Let go, Mary. Let go.”
Her ass arched up and she tried to move, but he was still holding her down, forcing her to come, bucking and grinding against the comforter. In a weird way, it was like fucking the bed just to elevate the ache between her thighs. It was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.
The next second, his weight shifted from her and he sat back on the edge of the bed.
Finally being able to move, she turned her body toward him. Her eyes widened when she saw his cock. It was huge.
“Don’t look at me like that. If I don’t let you go now, I’m gonna take you right here and now. Two nights,” he muttered. “I can hold on for two more nights.”
She propped herself up and leaned against his big frame. She loved how big he was, how he could easily encompass her with his large bulk. “So, what do you want to do until then?”
His eyes went straight to her breasts, but then he looked away. “I’m taking you out for dinner. I can’t marry a chick I’ve never even been on a date with, right?”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Right.”
CHAPTER 10
HECTOR
Hector stared at the guy with his ass perched on his desk, and contemplated his life. How the fuck had he ended up in the position of having to ask Tommie Green for a favor?
Tommie’s fingers drummed against Hector’s desk. “Let me get this straight. You want to go shopping with me? What, just because I’m gay, you assume I have great taste in clothing?”
“No, you little shit. I assume that because every time you have one of your girls’ nights, Jazzy can’t stop gushing about your style. Now, are you gonna help me out or not?” If he hadn’t been determined to not fuck up his first date with Mary, he would’ve left, leaving skid marks.
“Ah.” Tommie’s hand raked through his mohawk. “You know, I really wish they’d stop calling it girls’ night, since I’m obviously not a girl. I’m thinking about changing it into ‘getting laid’ night.”
“Thanks for sharing. I really feel like we’ve bonded. Now, can we switch back to what I’ve asked you to come over for?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Nude pics of Achilles.”
Tommie immediately perked up. “You really have those?”
Dios...
“Of course not. Why the fuck would I have that?”
The scowl returned. “Not cool, Wolfman. Nobody likes a tease.”
Luckily, Hector had a trick up his sleeve. He took out the bag from behind his back. It had taken him a trip across town during rush hour to get it, so it better work.
Tommie gasped and snatched the bag out of his hand. “Gimme!” He drooled when he saw the contents. “Coffee crunch cake from Yasukochi’s. I think I love you.”
“Good. Now that you owe me, let’s get going.” He grabbed the kid by his arm and all but hauled him out of his office.
He didn’t let go of him until they were inside his loft. The Smurf had a habit of wandering off and causing mischief whenever he stopped by. One time, he’d readjusted the computer screens to the Village People. Another time, it was a Leather Daddy.
Tommie just finished the last of his pastry. “So, this is your place. It’s um…”
“Shitty,” Hector filled in for him.
“It could use some color,” Tommie said as he walked around. “Any color, really. Even beige would be an option. It’s a shame to let all this space go to waste. I think it takes up half the block. Do you have any idea what I could do with this place?”
“I didn’t call you to redecorate my pad.”
“Well, you should have. Even a prepped-up clown would get depressed in here.”
“You can give your home deco tips to Mary for our new place. Now, get over here and make yourself useful.”
After a curious look at his bed—which was just a king against a wall—Tommie followed him to his closet.
“How to dress you for your first date with Mary,” he murmured. “Good thing you came to me.” He looked over Hector’s fatigues and boots, and dove into his closet. “So, what do you usually wear on dates?”
“I don’t date.”
Tommie spun around. “You don’t date? As in, never have?”
Hector leaned against the wall. He had a feeling this was gonna take a while. “You don’t need to date to get laid.”
“Awww, a dating virgin.”
Hector rolled his eyes. “I’m a lot of things, kid, but no virgin.”
“Well, it does explain the clothes. I mean, seriously, all you’ve got are jeans, cargo pants, tank tops, and flannel shirts. And for some reason, all of it is in either black, white, or Army green. We have to remedy that.” Tommie’s eyes shone bright like a fucking diamond, clearly preparing himself for the makeover of a lifetime.
Hector sighed. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“Now what makes you say that?” Tommie smiled. “I’ll have you dressed in no time.”
Tommie’s innocent smile should have made alarm bells go off. Instead, Hector, the simpleton he was, had actually believed they’d be done ‘in no time.’ But as another hour passed by and Tommie dragged him into yet another department store, he got the feeling they weren’t nearly done. It was like standing at the foot of a mountain, looking up and up, as Tommie dismissed another salesperson and stacked piles of clothes into Hector’s arms.
There were so damn many people in the store. They were everywhere. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this trapped.
“Let’s hope these fit,” Tommie mused, as he ushered him into a fitting room. “Never shopped for someone your size before.”
The quiet of the small cubicle was actually a blessing. He tried on two shirts, both too small. Tommie handed him another two from the pile. Two of them actually fit.
Finally.
A saleswoman came over. She scrutinized his chest, her hands going over his shoulders to check the fit. Her fingers brushed over his pecs. “Oh, my. Your chest is so large.”
“Hands off, dudette. He’s taken.”
The woman turned crimson as Tommie gave her the stink eye, then she drooped off.
“I’m done here,” Hector growled.
“But I have all these other—”
“We’re fucking done.” He pushed the ones that had fit into Tommie’s hands.
“Fine. We don’t have much time anyway, since we still have to get you a haircut.”
“Touch my hair and you’ll lose your hand.”
A chuckle followed, and Tommie coughed, eyes all innocent. The little shit was baiting him, and Hector fell right into his trap.
Tommie tapped a finger on his chin. “Now, what to do for shoes?”
Oh, hell.
***
At o-seven-hundred sharp that evening, Hector stood at Mary’s door. He had wanted to do this all proper and shit, picking her up from her home. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous when he rang her doorbell. It wasn’t like he hadn’t prepared for their date night. He knew Mary’s background. She was used to pretty, sophisticated things. He was a lot of things, but sophisticated wasn’t one of them. Still, he was going to try. He got Gio to make a reservation at a French place you could only get in when you were a member. He’d even borrowed the company car, so she wouldn’t have to sit on a bike.
He smoothed back his shoulder-length hair and winced as he tried to break in his new Italian design shoes. He didn’t feel comfortable out of his combat boots.
When Mary opened the door, sporting a big smile, he decided his squashed toes were worth it.
Her eyes roamed over his body, looking surprised to see him in a dress jacket. He had ditched his cargo pants and put on a new pair of jeans. Tommie had tried to hoist him in some dress pants, but no store sold them in his size—thank fuck—and it took at least a day to have them custom made.
“You look great,” she said, as she closed the door and took his hand. “I’m glad I dressed up.”
“You look pretty.” She looked fucking magnificent in her khaki mini skirt and white top.
They talked about this and that while he drove. Mary was really enthused about their house, and he loved how she talked about ‘them’ sprucing up the place. He didn’t care about decorating, didn’t have her style for sure, but he liked that she asked about his preferences.
Half an hour later, he parked in front of the restaurant in one of San Fran’s high-end neighborhoods.
“The L’Auberge?” Mary seemed surprised at his choice.
“Yeah. Place is supposed to be hot and trending, with a to die for amuse-bouche or something.” Tommie had rattled on about the dish. He hoped they served it in plates, because he was starving.
“Ah yes, their amuse-bouche.” She smiled. “Tommie couldn’t stop raving about it.”
The maître D’ was awaiting them from behind the desk, his nose a mile in the air. Hector didn’t like the way the asshole gave him a curt onceover, and dismissed him. When his eyes landed on Mary, his eyes shone, though.
“Do you have a reservation, sir?”
If his voice became any more haughty, he was going to float up to the ceiling.
“Try Detta,” Hector said, as he looked around.
The place had white walls, glass up to the ceiling, and a chandelier that gave too much light. In fact, everything was too much, Too fancy, too licked, too… fake. Still, it was the poshest place in town and, according to Tommie, they had great food.
A waiter led them to their table next to the fire place.
“Thank you for this,” Mary said as they sat down. “I mean, I know our engagement isn’t exactly textbook, but I like that you try to make it as normal as it is.”
He decided that she had no idea. She really believed that he was this self-sacrificing hero person that was throwing himself on a blade. Little did she know that the situation with Zoe had been the perfect excuse to snare her. Yes, he had resisted at first, but once he’d decided that she would be his, he was all in. If he had asked her to marry him, she could—would—have refused. But now, he had her without having to have faced rejection. And there would be no take-backsies. He’d told her that up front.
“We are a normal couple,” he stipulated. “I don’t care how we came to be. So, we do things a bit backward. You know, having dinner and getting to know each other after getting engaged, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”
“You really
mean that.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it.” Growing up, he didn’t have anything else but his word. He could buy her the world now, but he wanted her to know that his word would be enough.
Speaking of buying the world, he pulled out a small box from inside his jacket.
She took the box and opened it. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly.
Remembering how she reacted to the big mansions, he’d opted for a simple wedding band. It was in white gold and held only one small stone.
Mary leaned over the table and gave him a kiss. Their eyes met, and he got a weird feeling in his stomach. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.
The waiter took their drinks and handed them their menus. To his dismay, it was solely written in French.
Pretentious fucks.
“Problem?”
“Don’t know French,” he admitted.
“How about I order for both of us?” She looked at him hesitantly, and he realized she expected him to throw a fit, or maybe make this a pride issue. Except, he was just proud that she knew French.
“Feed me, baby. I like anything with meat.”
When the waiter returned, she did just that. Hector’s gaze once again roamed the fancy restaurant. It reeked of old money and entitled people. The soft piano music did nothing to squelch the feeling that he didn’t belong in here.
“You miss this?” he asked.
“Miss what?”
“All of this. The fancy restaurants, the big mansion. Basically, everything you had when your grandfather was still alive. Why did you move to a shitty apartment anyway? You had to know Gio would’ve set you up wherever you wanted.”
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Gio would have done all of that, because he loves Jazzy. Financially, he wouldn’t have even felt it. I mean, my grandfather was rich, but the Dettas are like Richie Rich rich. But I had to know I could make it on my own. Also, Gio has already done so much for me. I know he took care of Marco. Jazzy told me.” She looked him straight in the eye. “I know you volunteered to go after him.”