by Kay Harris
To make matters worse, he couldn’t seem to work up much concern over his behavior. He was too busy finding ways to spend time with Amy without it being too obvious that he was becoming consumed with seeing her.
“What’s the story, C?” Daniel asked, leaning toward his little brother, his voice low.
“What do you mean?” Carlos played dumb.
“Please,” Daniel whispered. “What’s the story with Amy?”
Carlos looked at his brother, trying to convey caution with his eyes. “We’re friends.”
Daniel moved closer, his voice low, his mouth near Carlos’ ear. “There’s more to it. There has to be.”
Carlos shook his head.
Daniel swiveled his gaze between Amy and Carlos. “All right. But if you don’t move soon you’ll end up in the friend zone for good. And I can tell by the goofy look on your face that’s not what you want.”
Carlos knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure it was what he deserved.
After the game, the whole gang went to the restaurant on the island that was owned and operated by another of his brothers, Juan, and his wife, Julie. It was one of a handful of places Carlos could eat at because their chef, Robert, took care to make sure his meal was gluten-free.
They sat in a back room of the restaurant, which allowed them to let their hair down. So the meal was loud and crazy. Adults shouted and laughed and drank margaritas while the kids ran around wild.
Carlos watched Amy closely to see how she took to his uninhibited family. He’d always been the quiet one, content to sit on the sidelines and enjoy the show. His role as the calm statue in the corner attracted the children to him. When they were little they would take turns sitting on his lap and asking him to help them tie their shoes or figure out how to do something.
Now that they were older, the kids still cycled to him for brief conversations that allowed them take a breather from the chaos of the family gathering. Amy saw all of this and he could tell she understood his role in the family. It was etched on her face and in the smiles she exchanged with him.
She was, on the other hand, in the center of everything. She claimed to be shy, but she had no trouble keeping up here. Every member of his family wanted to talk to her, like she was a shiny new toy. And she seemed completely at home with it. She happily answered their questions and asked more in return. She laughed with his sisters-in-law, teased his brothers, and enthusiastically listened to the kids.
All the while she kept returning her gaze to him, making sure he knew she saw him, and making sure she noted with her raised brow and private smirk that she was aware of how closely he watched her. It was as if, despite their physical separation across the table, her verbose enthusiasm, and his reserved nature, they were partners at this gathering, two complementary sides of a coin.
After dinner, Amy and Carlos said goodbye to his boisterous family and climbed into Carlos’ car for the ride back to Richmond. They talked in a steady stream about the game and his various family members. She asked about the two brothers she hadn’t met yet and he described their families and businesses.
Gregory was the second oldest, he and his wife, Lisa, had two kids and owned an auto body shop. They lived in Vallejo and both kids were in high school.
Jason, the oldest, was recently married to his longtime boyfriend Neil. They had two boys from Jason’s youth. A bit of a wild and confused teenager, he’d gotten two different girls pregnant by the age of nineteen. It wasn’t until Jason embraced his sexuality that he’d settled down and started living responsibly. He’d met Neil and they’d raised the boys together. Both kids were grown up now and worked at the successful chain of men’s clothing stores they owned.
After hearing about all his brothers, Amy asked, “So you’re the only Diaz sibling who doesn’t own his own business?”
“Yep. That’s me. The black sheep.”
“You could though. You excel at making everyone else money,” she pointed out.
“They all did it with their wives, or in Jason’s case his husband, and I haven’t found my partner yet. It doesn’t interest me without that.”
She was quiet for a long time as he made his way through the East Bay on the crowded roads. “What kind of business would you have if you had one?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t even speculate. The right partner would mean the right business. We’d decide together. I’m dropping you off at your house, right?”
“Actually, I want to have that talk now,” she said quietly.
Carlos was filled with both excitement and anxiety at her words. “Okay. Where do you want to have the conversation?”
“My roommate is at home so I was hoping…could we go to your place?”
“Sure.” Carlos made a turn that would take them to his condo. He tried not to think too hard about what it meant that he was taking Amy to his house.
They pulled up in his parking space at the high-rise condo building and Carlos led Amy to the elevator. His place on the top floor was spacious and bright. Probably overly large for a bachelor pad, the three-bedroom condo allowed him to have his nieces and nephews spend the night occasionally.
Amy walked through the open living room and examined everything from the comfortable furniture to the modest paintings on the wall. “This place is nice. Did you have someone decorate it?”
“Tracey did it, actually.”
“She did a good job. It’s still a fancy-ass condo, but she made it warm, too.” Amy sat on one end of the couch and pulled the fuzzy brown blanket that lay on its back onto her lap. She snuggled in like she was right at home.
Carlos loved that. He wanted to join her under that blanket. Instead he stood in front of the couch awkwardly. “You want a drink?”
She nodded. “Beer?”
“Sure.” He moved to the refrigerator, still in her view because the kitchen and living room were open concept.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. You probably don’t have beer, do you?” Amy called to him.
Carlos reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two glass bottles. “As a matter of fact, I do. Gluten-free beer.” He popped the tops with the old school church key that clung to his refrigerator by a magnet and set them on the counter. “It’s not bad, honest. Do you want a glass?”
“No. Bottle’s fine.”
Carlos picked the bottles back up and moved to the couch. He handed her a beer and sat beside her on the off-white fabric couch.
“I’m not young, you know,” she said.
Carlos knotted his brows in confusion. “I know.”
“Do you?” She cocked her head at him. “Sometimes you look at me or talk to me like you think I’m much younger than you. But I’m only two years younger.”
He smiled. It was true. He did think of her that way. Perhaps because she seemed so fresh and full of life, not jaded and bitter like his ex-wife. “You look much younger than me,” he noted.
“But I’m not.”
“You’re not,” he confirmed.
Amy took a long swig of her beer. She looked at the bottle with the green skull and cross bones on it and the slogan indicating it didn’t have any gluten. “Not bad.” She set the bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch and turned to face him. “Before I tell you what I need to tell you. I want you to kiss me.”
Chapter 9
Carlos didn’t understand what was happening. Why was Amy asking him to kiss her? What was going through her head? But it didn’t matter. Because it was one invitation he couldn’t resist.
Carlos set his beer beside hers on the table and enveloped her cheek in his palm. His hand slipped behind her head, weaving itself into that silken hair. He tugged—gently, slowly—bringing her lips within inches of his.
He paused there for just a moment, examining her eyes. They were bright, clear, and sure. It was all the reassurance he needed. He covered her mouth with his own. He started off soft and sweet, then he ran his tongue gently along her lips. She opened to him, her head falling
back and relaxing into his hand.
He deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers. She followed his lead. When she moaned, soft and sweet, into his mouth, he moved them both back, finding their way toward the arm of the couch, headed for a more intimate position.
Amy pulled back. She placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed. Carlos let her go but left his hand lingering on the back of her neck. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be,” she said. “I only stopped because I think I need to tell you this before we go any further.”
“Okay,” Carlos pulled himself away from her, settling back into the couch and retrieving his beer. He had to force himself to calm down. Kissing Amy had left him practically vibrating.
Amy took a long pull of her beer, set it down again and twisted her hands together in her lap. She sat straight and rigid. “I don’t remember anything about the kidnapping. But, apparently, the reason Cassandra took me was because Rodney was turned on by little girls.”
Carlos couldn’t breathe. He literally had to use all of his brainpower to keep his body still, his face expressionless, and his lungs filled with air.
“She never let him touch me. At least that’s what she said in court. But they would have me stand next to the bed while they…well, you know.”
Carlos stayed silent, but he put his hand out between them and held it open. Amy stared at it for just a moment before slipping her palm into his and intertwining their fingers.
“So I’ve been to a million therapists and stuff, and the thing is, I don’t have any memories or any kind of conscious trauma over it all. Like I said, my family members were far more affected than me. But there is one thing. And while the shrinks all thought it was tied to the kidnapping, I’m not so sure.”
He nodded and squeezed her hand, willing her to continue.
“So, all my life, I never…I never had any…desires.” She let out a deep breath. “I thought of myself as Asexual, I guess. Even after puberty there was…nothing. I wasn’t interested in anyone of either gender in a sexual way.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not explaining this well.”
“You’re doing fine,” he encouraged.
“I’ve never had a crush. I’ve never flirted, or kissed, or necked. I’ve never wanted anyone, and I’ve never had anyone.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. The shy girl was back and her cheeks burned with a beautiful pink blush. It was painful for Carlos. Even as she was making him want her more she was telling him she didn’t, couldn’t want him back.
“And then I met you.”
Carlos felt his breath hitch and he was back to concentrating on how to breathe again.
“And from that first day I saw you at lunch two and half years ago, I had a thing for you. Hell, I didn’t even recognize what it was back then. But it stayed there, you know?”
He nodded. He’d noticed her from the beginning, too.
“And then when we started working together it got more…intense. I started to think things I’d never thought before. And I noticed other men, too. I mean, I didn’t want any of them like I wanted you. But I started to see them. For the first time in my life I could appreciate the male form.”
She was blushing again. In a case of absolutely horrible timing Carlos was getting hard. He tried to sink further into the cushions of the couch.
“Anyway, I even…God. I’m actually gonna say this out loud,” she said to herself. She raised her eyes and looked at him. “I even masturbated thinking about you.”
That was it. He was hard as rock. There was no going back until he had a cold shower.
Amy ran a hand over her face. “This is all so embarrassing.”
He squeezed her hand, put down his beer and leaned toward her. “Don’t be embarrassed.” With his free hand, Carlos palmed her jaw and stroked her chin with his thumb. “I love your honesty. And I love that you’re sharing this with me.”
Amy took a deep breath. “You changed my whole life, Carlos. I never thought this would happen. When I saw my future I saw me adopting kids or getting artificial insemination. I imagined myself alone, a virgin, without ever knowing what…this…was like.” She shivered under his hand. “This is so amazing,” she whispered, leaning closer to him.
He wanted to explore that, but first he had a pressing question. “Why me?”
“I don’t know. But it’s definitely all about you.”
“Maybe it was just your time or something.”
“No, Carlos. You did this to me. And I am hoping that you want me, too. See, I can’t really tell if you feel the same way because I’ve never—”
Carlos stopped her with a kiss. It was deep and passionate, and he poured his desires into it. Just in case she hadn’t gotten the message, he pulled back and whispered, “I want you, Amy.”
She smiled. “And you don’t mind that I’m…completely inexperienced.”
He pulled back a little to examine her face. He did mind, only because he wanted to make everything right for her and he wasn’t sure he could. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, so he tried to explain it. “Of course I don’t mind. It’s just that…I’ve always been with experienced women. Right from the start. So I don’t know if I can take care of you like you need.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of.” The fierceness he’d seen in her before made an abrupt appearance.
“Maybe not. But, I think we should take this slowly.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, I want to go slow.”
She looked skeptical.
“Let me back up. Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am asking you to help me find that part of myself that was missing for so long. I am asking.”
“And I accept,” he said, his heart racing as he made the agreement that could so deeply alter the course of his life. “But I want to set the terms.”
“That makes sense, I suppose. Just don’t treat me like a porcelain doll.”
“I won’t,” he promised before taking her into another deep kiss. When he pulled away they were both breathless. “But we’re going one step at a time. Actually, one base at a time.” He grinned at her. “Are you familiar with the bases.”
Her eyes were glazed over and the struggle to clear her mind was written on her face. “Um…in the sexual sense? Yeah. I’m familiar with the concept.”
“Tell me,” he said, using the same tone he used when he’d been mentoring her at work.
“First base is kissing. Second base is, um, touching. Third base is…” There was that blush again. “Oral…And a home run is, well, a home run.”
“Right. So we’ll start at first base and only first base.”
She pouted. “I was hoping to move kinda quickly toward the bases that involve…”
“Yes?”
“Orgasms,” she blurted out.
“Oh, sweetheart. They all involve that.”
Her eyes grew wide. Before he could talk himself into stepping up to bat, he stood. “I should take you home.”
She stood as well. “What? Wait! What about first base?”
He bit back the laugh that threatened. She looked so devastated. It was adorable. “We’re going to practice that some more later, sweetheart. For now we need to part ways.”
“I don’t want to,” she said, almost whining.
He chuckled and leaned forward, gently nipping at her lower lip. “Me neither. But, still…”
Amy’s apartment was mercifully close to Carlos’ condo and it took less than ten minutes to drive her there. This time he walked with her into the building, up three flights of stairs and to her door.
They chatted with Marcel briefly then gave him a major shock as Carlos kissed Amy goodbye. The kiss was short, sweet, but not chaste.
“Tomorrow?” Carlos asked.
She nodded. “Pick me up tomorrow for dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe you could cook for me at your condo?”
“Okay.” He knew what she was thinking. He could eat safely that way, and they could make out to their hearts’ content afterward. “See you then.”
Chapter 10
Amy had no idea kissing could be this incredible. Nor did she realize how involved it was. She and Carlos had been at it for nearly an hour. She lay on top of him at the moment. He was tucked under her on the couch, his long body spread from one end to the other.
His head was propped up by a throw pillow, and he’d pulled her up so he could reach her neck. His tongue just barely touched her sensitized skin as his lips nibbled wetly from her jaw, down her neck. The top two buttons of her blouse had become mysteriously undone and he was able to travel all the way over to her shoulder, then back up again.
Amy let out another groan. It seemed to be all she could do. Her hands had managed to work open Carlos’ shirt and she ran them along his hard, rippling muscles. One of Carlos’ hands had found its way into her blouse and was caressing her left breast over her bra. She shivered as his thumb traveled slowly over the hard bead of her nipple.
His other hand was on her bottom. As many times as she’d seen a man touch his partner’s ass, whether it was a casual caress or an affectionate pat, she’d always assumed that it was not pleasurable for the woman. She was wrong. Not only did she like the way Carlos’ hand felt resting there, she also really liked the way the pressure was pushing her sex against his thigh, up and down in a steady rhythm.
Through the thin material of her panties and cotton skirt, her body was warm and wet as it was being constantly stimulated. She felt his thick bulge, hidden beneath a pair of slick dress pants, pressing against her stomach.
Amy moved against the thigh between her legs on instinct. Carlos tugged at her skirt until it was no longer creating a barrier between his leg and her purple silk panties, the ones she’d bought that morning thinking of him, thinking of this.