Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
It was one the longer speeches he’d heard from Russ, and each word made him feel seen in a way he wasn’t sure he ever had before.
Russ wasn’t kidding about the design feeling like Esteban—it had notes of both California and Central America while keeping with the midcentury details of the rest of the condo. It also reflected Esteban’s love of cooking, with practical touches like a deep sink and big exhaust hood. It was one of the nicest things someone had done for him, and emotion welled in his chest.
“Thank you.” Impulsively, he hugged Russ.
A mistake because, up close, Russ smelled even more delicious than usual. Making a surprised noise, Russ stiffened at first, then relaxed, warm and solid in Esteban’s arms. And it wasn’t a hug, Esteban’s usual friendly gesture, as much as a collision, bodies meeting, awkwardly at first, then sinking into each other. There was a familiarity here, as if their bodies recognized each other, even as their minds hesitated.
Rather than move apart, he gave in to the urge to lean into Russ, head settling against Russ’s shoulder like the spot had been carved especially for him.
Russ didn’t rush the embrace He settled slowly into it, his arms coming around Esteban with an unexpected gentleness. There was a wonder to his movements too, as if he expected Esteban to push him away any second, but wanted to soak up the moment until then.
Brave. It was brave, Russ’s vulnerability. And also intoxicating, sweeter than the rum and none of the burn.
When their mouths met, it happened so fluidly that he wasn’t sure who moved first. It didn’t matter because maybe they’d been building toward this inevitable moment for the whole pretend boyfriend scheme. Maybe since their first stilted conversation that had been all about misbehaving cats and wrong assumptions.
Esteban couldn’t move away, couldn’t pretend he didn’t want this, couldn’t do anything other than meet Russ with a need that stole his breath.
And for all that neediness, the kiss was slow and careful. Russ kissed like Esteban might shatter, which could happen if Russ kept kissing him like he was some precious discovery.
Esteban thought of his first bottle of truly memorable wine—the need to savor every drop at war with the urge to binge the whole bottle.
But slow had infinite rewards, starting with lots of little details to catalog. The way Russ tasted sweet, like the eggnog. The way he groaned when Esteban playfully nipped at his full lower lip. The way his broad hands held Esteban firmly without being rough. The way he seemed to care intensely about finding what Esteban liked.
It wasn’t so much that he let Esteban lead, as that each movement of his lips, each foray of his tongue seemed designed to learn Esteban’s wants. They were pressed together so tightly that there was no missing that Russ was hard, but the kiss stayed easy, leisurely in its unhurried exploration. One kiss slid into the next. They’d pull apart long enough to catch a breath, then return to it, like magnets. Or maybe like a cumbia dance, short effortless slides to a melody only they could hear.
When Esteban was at risk of truly melting, the point where anyone else would press for more and tug him toward the bedroom or the couch, Russ tore his mouth away. He trailed feathery kisses across each of Esteban’s cheeks and his forehead, and the unbearable sweetness of the moment almost undid Esteban.
“Thank you,” Russ whispered.
Thank you. Not a crude demand or sexy request or even an understandable assumption about what was about to happen. Only that soft thank you. It was enough to undo every latch around Esteban’s carefully packed away heart.
“Wow.” It was a wholly inadequate statement, but it was all Esteban had. “Just…wow. That… I didn’t expect that.”
“I know. Please…” Russ bit his lip and Esteban figured this was where the sexy request would come. “Please don’t regret it.”
And okay. He’d been wrong. Not a plea for more. And that too was the exactly right thing to say.
“I couldn’t.” He wasn’t lying. It would be like regretting witnessing the perfect sunset or getting to taste a rare fruit. One didn’t regret moments like those, even if they did have consequences.
“Do you want to stay?” Such hope in Russ’s eyes, such tentative desire that it made Esteban’s breath catch. And when Esteban didn’t answer right away, that hope mellowed to something approaching understanding. Not bitterness or disappointment, but understanding. “Or…the cats? You need to get back?”
Oh, sweet, sweet Russ, giving him an out that would let them both down easy. And that was exactly why it was so easy to say what he wanted most.
“I can stay. For a while,” he whispered right before he pulled Russ into another kiss.
Chapter Nine
Their second kiss was an entirely different beast than the first. Not that Russ was keeping count, but that first kiss had had more parts than the Lord of the Rings finale.