I leaned down, brushing my lips to his. He didn’t so much as stir, so I did it again. That time, I ended the press of mouths with a slow lick. Angel might as well have been a stone. His deep sleeping was a challenge I couldn’t resist. Us being in nature did not change my desire to get my greedy hands all over his golden skin, or to wake him up in exceedingly pervy ways.
It took some effort to get him in the position I wanted—sleeping bag unzipped, legs pushed apart, and his briefs skinned down—and he still hadn’t stirred beyond a pucker of his brows at all that skin being exposed. I barely noticed. I was all about the happy trail leading down to his groin, and the light-brown hair at the base of his dick. He was semihard from sleep, but already wilting from the cool air. Unacceptable.
I kissed his stomach, and looked up to see a smile flicker at the corner of his mouth. “Stephanie . . .”
I leaned down to take him in my mouth with no finesse. I grabbed his thick base and went straight for deep-throating. There was no point in wasting time.
Angel released a low sound, half groan and half whimper, his hips jutting up. I hummed around him and closed my eyes, enjoying the solid length of him in my mouth. His dick expanded and grew so hard it was now pulsing.
“Steph . . .”
A hand found the back of my head, fingers sliding through my messy hair, but he didn’t push my face down. The only time he went full caveman on me was after a lot of foreplay or a long dry spell of us not touching each other. Or when we were so pissed that all that energy exploded into sex so intense it was nearly frightening. Like when he’d pulled me away from the ballroom on the QFindr cruise, pushed me against a balcony overlooking the ocean, and hiked my dress up. I’d been as enraged as I’d been turned on, and I’d slammed back on him as some crewmember likely watched the cameras. Angel and I had growled at each other after, before stalking off in separate directions.
In our little tent with the sun barely rising over the lake, there was none of that intensity just yet. There was only peace, quiet, and the knowledge that for this moment, we were playing at being engaged, and I could get away with a lot.
I pulled away with a wet pop of my mouth. Saliva covered the column of his dick, wetting my fingers. “You fully awake now, mi caro?”
The endearment came out in a low purr, and it hit the note I’d wanted. Angel hissed out a breath, his feet sliding against the now-askew sleeping bag so he could bend his legs at the knee. I liked him spread open in front of me.
Angel dragged the tips of his fingers along the side of my face. “Very awake, mi vida.”
My heart stopped. It was the worst timing to get misty-eyed and shaky. Turning my face down, I pressed a sloppy kiss to the head of his dick.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Treat me real nice.”
After tracing the veins in his shaft with the tip of my tongue, I suckled his weeping crown once more. I could taste his pre-come, so I sucked harder. The sound he made, half growl, half cry, was probably heard across the lake and in the lodge, but I wanted to hear more. Seventy-five percent of the time we spent in bed was with him making me come repeatedly. When it was his turn, he could be stoic. There would be none of that this morning.
I took him in my mouth, still gripping his root with one hand. I slipped the other down to his ass, pushing him back just slightly so I could trace the crease with my fingers. Some guys might clench up or pull away at the hint I was throwing, but Angel just groaned again and rocked against me.
Pegging had been part of our games early on. As soon as I’d shown him a delicious series of Tumblr gifs portraying a guy having his prostate stimulated by a woman, Angel had wanted in on it. My adventurous sweetheart had looked at me with dilated pleading eyes at the very idea of having an orgasm that hard. I’d been so ecstatic. So fond. Maybe him digging butt play had been the first real sign that I would fall in love.
I pushed my two spit– and pre-come–covered fingers into his hole and found his prostate easily after so many months of practice.
“Ahh . . .”
I hooked my fingers up, and massaged the little notch inside of him. When he rocked on my hand, making agonized sounds, my pussy clenched. I squeezed my thighs together, overly aware of how wet I was, and sucked again. This time, he clutched the back of my head with more force and guided my face so I could take him deeper into my mouth. My eyes teared a bit, but it didn’t stop me from working his prostate with more purposeful movements.
“Ay Dios, Stephanie.” Angel’s voice hitched. I opened my eyes just in time to see him grabbing up the sleeping bag with his free hand, squeezing it in his big fist. He’d dropped his head back, hair hanging over his face, and only the damp sheen across his mouth visible as he panted. “Por favor, no pares.”
Groaning, I bobbed my head and the tip nearly brushed the back of my throat. All the while, I felt myself rocking against the air and clenching around nothing, wanting very, very badly some pressure against my clit. To get it, I’d have to stop touching him, and that wasn’t going to happen. I wanted him on the edge.
When I shoved a third finger into his ass, Angel seemed to hit his breaking point, and sweetness switched to demanding.
“Yeah, Steph,” he growled. “You suck that cock.”
“Mmm . . .”
He fucked my mouth so hard my eyes teared again. I saw spots dancing before them, the world dimming just slightly at the edges, but I didn’t pull away. I reveled in him finally losing control, but my body was an inferno. I was so overheated and turned on that it was nearly painful.
“You want to taste my come or feel it in your pussy?”
My hips jerked forward, and for a second, I thought I was going to come from the question. God knew I was close enough. Breathing hard, I pulled my mouth off his gleaming dick and stared at him through a mess of hair. There should have been no question about what I wanted. I’d been on birth control for a decade, and we’d stopped using protection with each other months ago. He knew I loved feeling it as he released. Not only the way he clung to me and said my name in that low worshipful moan, but the pulse of his dick inside me.
“What do you think?”
Angel swept his tongue over his lower lip. “Ride it.”
It wasn’t smooth as I fumbled out of my underwear and climbed atop him in the small tent, but I managed it in seconds. I positioned myself above him, squirming as he tapped his cockhead against the hard nub of my clit.
I rubbed myself against him. He had a level of restraint that I didn’t possess. At least, not when it came to him. Angel loved to tease me, to draw it out until I was drenched and aching. Sometimes, I just needed him in me. Now was one of those times.
“Angel.”
He dragged his tip along my slit and watched me from beneath his eyelashes. “Pull your shirt up.”
Impatiently, I yanked it off. I had all kinds of tan lines from the combination of my tank top and sports bra, but he sighed like he’d just set eyes on a work of art. I leaned forward so my breasts rubbed against his shirt, my nipples taut and stinging from the friction, and kissed him hard. I kept kissing him when he was sheathed inside of me, and only stopped when his steady thrusts ripped my breath away all over again.
My knees dug into the hard ground on either side of him as he clamped down on my ass with one hand and gripped the back of my head with the other. We stared into each other’s eyes as he moved inside of me, and I rode him as much as I could even though he had me locked in the position he wanted.
A thousand sensations went off in my body like mini explosions. The sensation of my clit grinding against his groin, the angle of his hardness inside of me, his breath on my face, a hand tight and possessive in my hair, and then . . . the sudden pressure of his finger against my anus.
I bit my lower lip, so close to coming it was agonizing, and reared upright. He smacked my ass, as if chastising me for ruining his plan. He smirked, but it turned to a hooded look of pleasure when I began to ride him in earnest. One hand braced beh
ind me on his knee and the other between my legs so I could frantically rub my clit.
When it hit me, my orgasm was loud and messy. I was so wet that I had a distant fleeting wondering about how we’d ever hike back down to the lodge around other people. The concern was blighted from my mind once Angel shoved himself up to press his lips to my throat. He bit lightly and surged inside of me, coming with harsh, breathless gasps.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, keeping him inside of me. “Nice try, León.”
“Mmm?”
“The attempted DP.”
Angel snorted into my hair and smacked my ass again. “Does one finger really count as double penetration?”
“Yup. After the other night, you’re getting greedy.” Snickering at his exaggerated pout, I pulled off him. “I need a bath. We both reek of sex.”
“There’s a problem with that? I like having you all over me.”
“Ugh, stop being so . . .” I waved vaguely at his flushed face. “Stop making me want to fuck you again immediately.”
“Give me like ten minutes, nena.”
I smiled broadly, then forced myself to shake my head. “Nope. We need to get down to that stream before the rest of the normal people wake up and see our unprepared naked culos.”
“Is your culo being unprepared the reason for no fake-DP?” He dodged a swat and sat up on his knees, snickering. “Fine. Maybe later.”
“Maybe.”
We fumbled in the small space to gather our clothes. I grumbled that I had nothing to change into, and he silently presented me with an extra tank top and a pair of shorts. My eyebrows hiked up.
“Those are mine.”
“Good eye, Sherlock.”
I poked him in the side. “I thought you’d planned this little camping trip to be solo?”
We’d just fucked each other’s brains out and joked about butt play, but Angel flushed like my sweet boy all over again. “Well, I guess in the back of my mind, I was kind of hoping you’d stay out here with me . . .”
I stared at him. He tried to duck out of the tent for a quick escape, but I grabbed him and dragged him back for a kiss.
“I love you, fiancé,” I whispered against his mouth.
Angel held me to his chest and released a shuddering sigh. “I love you too, Stephanie.”
Angel: I’m fucked
Chris: ???
Raymond: Literally?
Angel: I’m not joking, man. I don’t know what I’m doing.
Raymond: Be specific or I’m putting my phone in my locker and going to work
Chris: What happened?
Angel: This whole pretending to be Stephanie’s fiancé thing happened.
Raymond: I told you you’re an idiot. Or a masochist. Not my kink but hey . . . more power to ya
Chris: :/ What happened, bro?
Angel: We made this deal to just . . . live out this weekend like we’re really together, pretty much enjoy the game, and then move on because I want to be w/ her and she doesn’t want to depend on anyone enough to be with them in a relationship.
Raymond: That sounds like some shit I’d have done with David tbh so I can’t even make fun of you
Angel: FML dude. This entire thing was a bad idea.
Chris: Let me guess: the whole enjoying the game thing just made you want her even more and now you’re stressing over the weekend ending and going back to jacking it all the time while thinking about her?
Angel: Yep
Angel: Except now it will be even more depressing because she told me she loves me. So basically . . . I’d have a shot if all of these circumstances I can’t control were different. It would prob hurt less if I didn’t know she felt the same
Raymond: WHAT
Raymond: She SAID she loves you??
Raymond: Hold up hell just froze over
Angel: Shut up man its not funny
Chris: There’s no chance of her changing her mind?
Angel: I dunno. I’m not going to pressure her. She has good reasons for being the way she is, but it just fucking makes me feel like I want to rip my heart out. Or move away.
Raymond: Move away? Dude this ain’t eat pray love, calm down
Angel: I’m serious tho. How the fuck am I supposed to ever move on if she lives right up the street? I see her all the time. I want her all the time. Just imagine David having told you he loves you but can’t be with you and he’s just . . . ALWAYS THERE.
Raymond: Ok yea that sucks my dude.
Raymond: Idk what to tell you
Chris: The only thing you can do is try to move on? Date other people and try to find someone else and don’t spend every date comparing them to her. I tried that when I was trying to forget Jace and Aiden, and it sucked.
Raymond: Or you could start sucking dick. That would distract you
Chris: Omg Ray shut the fuck up for real
Raymond: What? Am I wrong?
As much as I loved my boys, Raymond trying to distract me by making me laugh wasn’t going to do the trick right now.
I’d gone from being on cloud nine while hiking back to the lodge with Stephanie, hand in hand and bumping into each other like a couple of kids who’d snuck out for the night, to descending into a depressed cloud so thick I was shocked people couldn’t see it around me. Everyone was in a great mood while cooking and chattering about the last day’s activities, and I was trying my best to keep smiling, but my brain was stuck.
It’d been stuck as soon as I’d sat down on the bed we were sharing and realized tonight was the last time we’d share a bed. The last time I’d make love to her. Maybe tomorrow was the last time I’d kiss her. Maybe this morning was the last time she’d tell me she loved me.
All things considered, as emotional as I could be, I tended to suck it up. I angsted to myself, but rarely to other people. Except lately. And I hadn’t cried since my abuelo’s funeral in San Juan, but the idea of ten years of longing being officially over, with no more hope, crushed me. If smiling through suffocation was an art form, I’d be winning awards. When I kissed Stephanie on the cheek and told her I was going to shower, she didn’t seem to notice anything was off.
Good.
The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was guilting her.
I turned on the hot water in the bathroom, flipped down the toilet seat, and sat there staring at my phone. Chris’s words glared up at me.
Move on. Date other people.
My automatic response was to say it would never work. No one could replace Stephanie. I’d tried before, and it had failed. They’d known I was preoccupied. That I wasn’t invested. Or had I only been preoccupied and uninvested because I’d been comparing them to Stephanie the entire time? Had I spent the last ten years sabotaging all potential attempts to get over a girl I would never have?
The possibility was terrifying. What if I did that for the rest of my life? What if I never got over her?
My mind supplied two options: get over her or gradually pull back and cut her off.
A shudder went through me. I felt sick at the thought of not seeing her anymore. We’d spent years being solely platonic friends, and I’d watched her hook up with or date different people. None of it had cut as badly as the idea of putting our friendship somewhere in the back of a junk drawer. It wasn’t an option.
Chris was right. I simply needed to move the fuck on.
As steam billowed into the bathroom from the shower, I redownloaded Tinder. By the time the heat from the water had turned the small room oppressively warm, I’d swiped a few faces and already felt the mind-numbing disinterest of finding someone to date for the sake of dating.
It didn’t take a mind reader to figure out that something had changed as soon as we’d returned to the property. Angel turned inward almost as often as I sought escape in partying with Meredith and going out, and he was definitely internalizing something right now. Like the end of this trip and whatever we’d become over the past year.
; It was an unpleasant thought. Frankly, a horrible one. In an attempt to escape reality, I held my breath and dunked my head beneath the water in the pool. It was the best place to seek refuge from my coworkers. Retreat or no retreat, I had more things to think about right now than their team-building games. And they’d have a hard time suggesting I pop in to join them if I was wearing a bikini and drenched.
Most of my coworkers’ partners had the same idea. Dee in particular had been camped on a floatie since early morning, and was idly swiping at her phone while sipping on a beer.
I broke the surface with a gasp, trying to throw my hair back like a Norwegian Sun commercial and probably looking more like I was about to take someone’s eye out. After smoothing wet hair out of my face, I peered through the patio doors and saw Angel sitting by himself in the sun room.
I swam to the edge of the pool and braced my arms along the side, watching as he sat in a recliner and pulled out his phone. Random things about him caught my attention and drew me in these days. The way he sat up straight all the time like someone had beaten the need for good posture into him at a young age. How he held his phone one-handed as he rubbed the back of his neck with the other, a simple motion that made his biceps bulge beneath his T-shirt.
But mostly, I was caught by his expression. So pensive. Always worried and thinking. It looked like he was doing both at the moment, and I was dying to know what was going on in his brain. We’d had such a good morning, but things shifted fast between us on a regular day, let alone on a day when we’d fucked, said I love you, and made a semi-promise to . . . leave this all behind starting tomorrow or the day after.
“Are you staying out here for a while?”
Dee’s voice drew my attention away from Angel. “Yup. Why?”
She raised an eyebrow and peered at me through her pink cat-eye sunglasses. I loved Dee for primarily this reason. Well, for several reasons. She was like Lana Del Rey but short and curvy and did not give a fuck what anyone at the law firm thought of her. You had to love a girl who wasn’t going to waste her mini-vaca pretending to care about team builders.
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