“You didn’t take any photos?” She sounded truly horrified.
“Nope.” I laughed at all the teeth sucking on her end of the call. “I told you, we can’t have any devices in the studio kitchen. They’re really strict about nothing getting leaked until the show airs. But they came out great; they look just like the ones you have.”
She smiled and turned her head, I assumed to look at her prized possessions. “That’s nice, mija. What time is it over there?”
I looked up and saw it was close to 10:30p.m. “It’s late.” I let out a yawn that made my jaw crack. “I should get to bed, I’m—"
I was about to say tired when Kiskeya walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a black tank top and boyshorts, making all the blood in my body rush to my head. She had her hair up in her usual ponytail, but her skin looked flushed, like she’d turned the water up as hot as it would go. And Kiskeya looking supple and soft had a very intense effect on me.
“Sully.” My mother’s voice snapped me out of my staring.
“Mami. I’m gonna let you go. I’ll check in on text tomorrow. Don’t forget your stretches, okay?”
My mother’s affronted face made me smile again, even as I kept my errant eye on Kiskeya’s every move. “Who’s the mom here? Tell Kiskeya hello for me. I started following her on Instagram. She’s cute!”
I grinned thinking of the horrified look that would be on Kiskeya’s face when I told her she had a new follower, and just then my teammate, who had been putting a long sleeve T-shirt on, turned her head in my direction.
“My mom says hi,” I informed her, timing the punchline for when she turned back around. “She followed you on Instagram. She said you’re cute.”
She nodded without looking my way and kept riffling through her stuff. I went back to chewing on spicy mango and staring at her. I’d only counted to three when her head popped back up.
“Wait. She did what?” She look so pressed, I had to laugh.
“Relax, Kiskeya. She’s not going to stalk you or anything. She’s just super hyped about my baking partner being Dominican.” I popped another piece of mango in my mouth and looked at the little bit of tight brown skin showing between her shorts and shirt. “You have to admit it’s a pretty big coincidence.”
She grabbed her phone from the chair where she’d left it charging and tapped for a few seconds. Then went back to whatever she was doing in her bag. I had to bite back a smile when she grumbled, “I followed her back.”
After a few minutes of arranging and folding, she stood by the bed tapping more things into her phone, until I lost my patience.
“Who are you texting? Talk to me. I’m bored.” I wasn’t bored. Watching Kiskeya’s wiry body flex, and the angular lines of her face as the light hit them were Grade A entertainment, but it was also not the healthiest distraction. And I wanted attention.
She finally looked up after another round of tapping and gave me a long look. “I’m not texting anyone. Just making sure I type up the things we can improve on tomorrow. We could’ve been more prepared for the actual challenge if we timed ourselves during practice.”
It took a lot of strength not to roll my eyes at her. “Kiskeya.” Deep breath. “Relax. We advanced. We got very good feedback in all the challenges.”
“We got good feedback in two challenges; the first one was a disaster.”
“We didn’t have a single disaster today.” She did not look convinced.
“No thanks to me.”
“Thanks to our kickass teamwork.” I was going to push a little bit, because I knew I wasn’t imagining the energy in the room. “We’re like the Carol Danvers and Maria Rambeau of the baking world.” She pursed her lips, but I could see she was very close to cracking a smile, so I decided to shoot my shot. “Except more like the AO3 version because I’m like, really gay.” With me, boredom usually led to extremely poor decisions, and I was in a mood.
She crossed her arms and smiled very grudgingly. “I’m clearly Carol in this scenario.”
“Duh, Maria’s the sensible one which, obviously would be me,” I offered, then proceeded to crawl to the end of the bed where she was standing. The alarm on her face was almost comical.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was super high, her eyes widening as I got closer.
“Uh, getting cozier, so we can have a teammate heart-to-heart since you clearly need one.”
She kept looking at me like I was a ticking time bomb. I was starting to get worried I’d pushed her too hard, until I realized she was staring at my boobs again. They were pretty amazing, this was a fact, and she was looking at them like she wanted to dive right in.
“Stop glomming on my tits, Kiskeya.” I thought that would make her look away, but she was looking more and more predatory by the second. I was feeling many feelings between my legs. So of course, I doubled down.
I sat on the edge of the bed with my thighs spread and leaned on my elbows so she could get a better look at the cleavage in question. “You were saying?”
“We were talking strategy, Sully.” She sounded pissed, but she also grabbed the ottoman that was by the armchair and sat right in front of me. So close that our knees were almost touching.
I moved my head from side to side, considering her for a second. “You were talking strategy. I was eating mango with chili and staring at your ass.” I said it while nudging her toe with mine, and she practically jumped a foot in the air.
“Stop. We’re not doing this.” I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.
“Okay. We won’t do it.” I put a whole lot of emphasis on it and she swallowed audibly.
I kept looking at her, not even trying to hide that I was taking stock of all the places I’d put my mouth on if I ever got a chance.
“I never asked you what you would do with it.” She quickly realized I could take that statement somewhere filthy very easily and added, “With the prize money, if we won. You asked me, but I never asked you.”
It took my lust-filled brain a moment to get back online, because I’d been sure we were very close to getting busy, but Kiskeya played hardball. I had to close my eyes and legs (I wasn’t a total mess), and focused on her question. This was for sure going to get us out of hard staring, dry mouth, and heavy breathing territory.
“I told my mom I’d use it to open an online business,” I said, sitting up. “My family owns a bodega uptown. In Washington Heights,” I explained. “And a few years ago, when I was still in school, I started making pastries and people loved them. I’d post the daily offerings on Insta and people would just show and line up; it was wild.”
Kiskeya leaned in, her eyes focused on me like she was hanging on every word.
“But my mom got hurt at work, and all of that had to be put way on the backburner. My brother takes care of the business, my dad did it before he died. But once he was gone my brother took over.” My throat closed up thinking about my dad and how proud he’d be of me getting chosen for this contest. “Anyway, a lot of the savings went to covering medical stuff, even with my mom’s insurance and worker’s compensation. I’m sure you know, healthcare in the States is the shittiest and things add up.”
“I’m sorry about your mom. Is she okay now?” Kiskeya being soft and compassionate was going to fuck me up.
“Yeah, she’s much better. It was her shoulder, so it took a long time for her arm to heal, and she can’t really do her old job. She’s a fighter, though. But to answer your question, I’m supposed to use the money to start something of my own. A lot of people are doing good business in the city with deliveries. Postmates, Seamless, and shit. So it could work.” I lifted a shoulder, back in the conundrum I’d had for the past few weeks. “But I wonder if I should just save the money for a rainy day or something. In case something else happens with my mom.” The words came out of my mouth before I could even really think about them. I hadn’t confessed that even to myself, and once I’d said it, I wasn’t sure what to do with the realization.
“What would your mom say about that?”
I looked down, running a chipped nail along the piping in my flannel pajama shorts. “She’d never let me do it. I mean, she would throw a full-on fit if I even tried it.”
“You should let her know how you feel.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed tiredly.
This time, she was the one who looked down at her shorts. “It’s nice that your family’s so supportive. Do they know?”
She didn’t have to say what, we were both Dominican after all.
“She does. My dad had a harder time with it. He got a little too attached to a couple of boyfriends I brought around.” I shook my head, remembering how extra he’d been. “But he eventually realized it wasn’t a phase and got over it.”
She nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor. “My family’s definitely not over it. Not my parents at least. My sister and I are still close.”
My heart ached for her. I knew how fucked things could get in Dominican families when people came out. I had my share of relatives who were still assholes about it. “Is that really why you left?”
She shrugged, still not looking at me. I wanted to tug on her hand and have her climb on the bed with me. Eventually, she looked up. “Partly. I dated a girl for a while in college, and I suspected they knew, or at least had an inkling, but they never said anything. After I graduated and decided I wanted to go to culinary school in the States, I told them.” She laughed and it was not a happy sound at all. “Que desastre. I left not long after. We talk sometimes, but they’ve never come to visit, and I haven’t gone back. My sister visits every year, though, and we talk a lot. She’s very curious about you.” That, she said with a genuine smile, but I was still not over the rest of what she’d said.
“I’m sorry, Kiskeya.” I felt terrible for giving her such a hard time for being uptight and intense. It all made so much sense now.
“It’s fine.” I was about to protest when she retracted. “I mean, it isn’t fine, it sucks, but I’m not going to change who I am.”
“It’s not fair.” It sounded so stupid, like such a useless thing to say.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she got up from the ottoman and went to the mini fridge in the room and grabbed two beers. She held up the bottles of Innis & Gunn—the Scottish beer we were all obsessed with since we’d arrived—and raised an eyebrow in question.
I assented and moved up to sit against the headboard. “Yes, please.” I extended a hand, and she passed me the cold bottle then got into bed with me.
She clinked her beer to mine and took a long pull from it. I watched her drink and thought there were many things I’d discovered I found highly erotic in the past few days. Drinking from a bottle of beer was apparently one of them. When she finished, she licked her lips, and I almost had to press the bottle to my groin. “This beer is the best.”
“Yeah,” I croaked.
After taking another sip, she leaned on the headboard and turned her head to look at me. “You know what’s the weirdest part about it?”
I shook my head as I took a drink from my own beer.
“I have an uncle that’s gay, and even though it’s not fully fine, he’s still in the family. He even brings his partner to family stuff. And I’m not saying things are good for gay men in the DR, because they really aren’t. But it almost felt like it was something that people could digest.” She frowned as if she couldn’t figure out how to explain herself. “Like a guy wanting another guy made some kind of sense, but having no use for a man in any way? It was unthinkable.”
“Fuck,” I breathed out, leaning my head like she had and turning so we were face-to-face. “That makes so much sense. I mean with the toxic masculinity on steroids in the culture. Shit.” I closed my eyes and felt so many things. I felt so close to her, like I understood. Really got what she’d done by telling her parents her truth, the risks she’d taken to live it. I was blown away by how brave she’d been to even try to be out, when it was clearly not very safe to do it.
I opened my eyes, and she was still looking at me, but her gaze was heated again. I could see the lust there. Immediately my body reacted to it. I wondered how long we’d tiptoe around this, how long I’d be able put off telling her exactly what I wanted. But like she’d been doing constantly this week, Kiskeya surprised me first.
“I want to kiss you so bad right now.” She said it looking right at me. In that moment I knew the entire castle could’ve crumbled around us, and I would have been helpless to unlock my gaze from hers. She shifted, and I heard her bottle clatter as she placed it on the table. Her chest moved up and down like she’d been running. I hurried to put my own bottle down, almost dropping it on the floor, but soon my hands were free and I was kneeling on the bed in front of her.
Wanting. Wanting. Wanting her.
I ran my hand up her slender neck, placed my thumb right at her pulse point, and I could feel it racing. I was usually bold in moments like this, demanding what I wanted, but I didn’t want ruin this. I wondered what she’d do if I climbed on her lap. If I straddled her thighs, pressing myself to her until she could feel my heat. I didn’t ask.
Instead, I traced my finger on her earlobe, looked at the contrast of our skin together, her brown just a little darker than mine. I imagined us as little bits of soil, of earth, from the same place that had been picked up and scattered, and now were here, blending back together. Finding each other so far from where we’d come from.
“Sully.” My name on her lips was a plea, a beckoning. I wasn’t strong enough to hold back. I leaned in close until my lips were grazing her ear, and finally asked for what I wanted.
Chapter 10
Kiskeya
“Besame, Kiskeya.”
I knew this moment would come. From the minute I’d seen Sully walking into that room, I knew that given the chance, I’d end up exactly where we were now. About to plunge headfirst into a sea of bad decisions, and yet I was loath to stop. I turned so I was upright against the headboard and pulled her to me.
“Ven,” I said. Come.
And she did. She spread her thighs over mine, making my hands itch to stroke her heat. To learn what she felt like, what she smelled like. I tipped my head up as Sully loomed over me, her eyes blazing. I placed both my hands on her hips, but before I slid them under her shirt, searching for all the treasure I’d been desperate to explore, I said what needed to be said.
“This is not the smartest thing we’ve done this week.”
Sully kept her eyes on me and responded with a thrust of her hips. “I beg to differ. We’re both stressed as hell. I was going to go to the bathroom and rub one out while I was pretending to brush my teeth. This is a much better solution.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “You’re too fucking much.” She grinned back, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“I think you like it.”
I groaned in answer and slid the tips of my finger under her flannel shirt.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded, and I let my hands drift up her waist and belly until I was cupping her breasts. Her nipples were hard, and my mouth watered from wanting. I could feel myself getting wet, the need pulsing at my core, as I made her gasp from my touch.
“Mm, I can come like this.” She said between lusty sighs, as I teased her a little, taking each nipple between my fingers.
“Like this?” I asked, feeling her hips circling harder with every pinch from my fingers.
“Yeah.” She breathed out, with her hands braced on my shoulders. “Kiss me.”
Her hips kept rocking back and forth in way that was driving me crazy. I slid one hand out from under her shirt, so I could bring her head closer. I wasn’t shy or tentative about kissing, but I knew this one would be hard to come back from. I let myself feel the terrifying clarity that doing this with Sully could cost me everything.
I did it anyway.
I gripped a fistful of her hair as our mouths crashed together, my tongue steali
ng into her mouth, hot and hungry. I’d never really wanted before, I thought, not really, because this was incendiary.
“Mm,” she moaned as she put both hands on my face and licked into my mouth, the chili from the mango she’d been eating now on my tongue. She kept moving against me until she found the right spot. With every thrust, I could feel she was closer to coming. I wanted to see her face when she did.
“Sully,” I whispered, pulling away to take a breath.
“Ungh, I’m so close. You got me so turned on. I want you to touch me.” She took my hands in hers and slid it under her underwear until I was cupping her mons—the curls there ticking my palm.
“You’re so hot,” I gasped as I slid two fingers in, and kissed her hard. As I sucked on her bottom lip, I stroked her wet pussy, like I’d wanted to do for days.
“Like that, do it hard.” I obliged and she let out a tortured moan and wrapped her arms around my neck and slid her tongue with mine. We were tangled together, locked in. And suddenly my entire purpose in life became making her fall apart under my hands.
She was wet from this, from our kisses, from my touch. I throbbed, needing relief too, but I couldn’t do anything else but keep touching her until she was coming for me.
“I want to suck on this,” I said as I circled the pad of my thumb on her clit. “I want to lick you. Spread your thighs with both hands and suck on that nub until you scream.”
“Ahhh, don’t stop.” she pleaded against my mouth between hot, mouth wide-open kisses. “Tell me how you’ll do it, how you’ll eat my pussy.” She was kissing my neck, teeth grazing the skin, and I was sure I was on fire.
“I’m going put you over the back of that couch and eat you out from behind until your legs give out.” With every dirty promise I made, she thrust harder into my hand. I dipped my fingers in again and felt her pussy clench on them. I was going to come just from the sounds she was making. I almost used my other hand and gave myself some relief, but I wanted to wait.
Mangos and Mistletoe Page 7