Page 122 of The Sweet Spot

“Semantics, bebê.” He kisses my nose as the elevator doors open with a ding. “Come on, let’s go.”

Carlos’ apartment/condo is fancy but also lived in, full of family photosand comfy furniture. It’s also pretty spacious, with an open floor plan and large windows letting in soft beams of sunlight.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Luca says, dropping his bags on the floor.

“Me too. Should we order something?”

“Nah, Pai always makes sure the fridge is full when I come. He probably had the housekeeper stop by.”

Sure enough, there’s enough food to feed a small village. After a breakfast of fresh papaya and pao de queijo—cheese bread—we take showers and fall into bed.

“Just a quick nap,” I mumble into the pillow as Luca rains kisses over my neck and shoulder. “Then I’ll be good to go.”

* * *

Despite his romantic overtures before I passed out, Luca’s still asleep when I wake up hours later. I’d be dismayed that we slept for so long, but it couldn’t be helped. We were beyond exhausted. Stretching, I roll out of bed and pad over to the bedroom window, which looks out over a canopy of thick, green trees and terracotta-colored roofs. Winter in Brazil is warm and sunny, and a balmy breeze ruffles the leaves outside.

I’ve just finished making coffee in the kitchen when Luca emerges, yawning. “I came to help you, but I see you know what you’re doing,” he says, eyeing the two steaming cups.

“Pretty much. My grandmother has a French press, so she taught me how to use one when I was younger.”

“You want milk? We usually drink it without here.”

“Just sugar, then.”

Luca gets sugar from the cabinet and fixes our coffee up before coming to stand beside me at the counter. “We slept the day away, but we can still go out on the town. There are a lot of great bars right in the neighborhood.”

“I’d love that,” I say, although I’d also love continuing what he tried to start earlier. Turning from Luca’s yummy bare chest, I poke around the fridge. “Is there any more of that cheese bread?”

“Pao de queijo.” Luca corrects me, smacking my butt. “You’re in Brazil now, querida.”

“You’re right.” My cheeks warm, more from his pet name than anything, and I close the fridge. “I use Google translate sometimes…I should use it more.”

“Or just use me,” he says, hoisting me up onto the counter.

I wrap my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. He cut his hair right before our trip, and it’s shorter than I’ve ever seen it, falling just below his ears. Leaning closer, I press a kiss to those ears, gratified when he shivers a little. “How do you say, ‘you’re so beautiful’?”

I feel, rather than see, him smile. “If you’re saying it to me, it’s você é tão bonito.”

“Você é tão bonito,” I echo slowly, pulling back so I can look at himwhen I say it.

Luca’s eyes search mine for a moment, and then he kisses me. We make out for a while, long, lingering kisses that go on and on as the afternoon light folds in around us.

“This is surreal,” he says, lifting my tank top up over my head. He kisses my chest, brushing his lips over the tips of my breasts. “I thought about you all the time the last time I was here.”

Now I’m the one shivering, threading my fingers through his silky, dark hair. “What did you think about, exactly?”

He smiles, naughty. “I’m sure you can guess.”

“Tell me.” We kiss again, pressing our chests together, skin to skin. I run my hands over his bare back, feeling his goosebumps raise beneath my fingertips. Luca tugs on my sleep shorts as I lift my hips off the counter, and then my panties too. My heart skips a beat as he gently pushes me down so that I’m lying flat on the counter.

He kisses my stomach and each of my hipbones before opening me with his hands and licking me so deeply that I arch up. Startled, I giggle, my hands pressed over my mouth. But then he does it again and again, and any urge to laugh dissolves with the need to come. When I do, he yanks me off of the counter and turns me around, bending me over it. “I thought about this,” he says quietly, dipping his fingers into me. Widening my stance, he enters me with one deep thrust.

I gasp, tightening around him, my pussy still fluttering from my orgasm.Wow.

“Fuck,” he whispers, gripping my hips, and that’s just what he does.

When he comes inside me minutes later, he leans over, sweeping my hair aside and kissing the back of my neck. His heart races against my back. “Eu quero estar com você para sempre.”

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