Page 59 of One Hotlanta Night
“Thanks,hermano mayor,” she says, sniffling a little into my shoulder. “But if you really want to make it up to me, don’t let this one slip away,” she says, nodding toward Vivian. “I could use a sister, you know.” She grins.
“Working on it,” I tell her, a smile spreading across my face at the thought of my two favorite women becoming sisters,spending time together, and planning family events. If we’re lucky, maybe the next generation will be running around underfoot.
Looking at Vivian, whose hands are grasped tightly by my grandmother as she enthusiastically tells her a story in rapid Spanish, my heart swells. I’m so gone for this woman that my chest physically hurts. Catching Vivian’s dazed look, I realize I better go rescue her before she gets overwhelmed. Chuckling, I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, her hands still ensnared in Paquita’s tight vise grip.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to leave me,” she grits out the side of her mouth while Paquita continues to gesticulate wildly with her free hand, completely immersed in her story.
“I’ve had my eyes on you the whole time,” I tell her as I kiss her neck softly. She relaxes into me, and I tighten my hold around her waist.My woman.
“You could’ve come over sooner,” she whispers, never once losing contact as my grandmother continues, the drama of her tale emphasized by the rising volume of her voice.
“And miss seeing you get trapped into one of my grandmother’s stories? Never.” I rub my chin over her soft hair. It’s so silky and catches in the scruff I forgot to shave off this morning because I was too busy worshipping in between Vivian’s thighs.
“Hey!” She elbows me in the stomach and I mock-groan.
“You could be stuck here fordays,” I drawl, earning a full-on laugh from her. Thankfully the story has wrapped up; she really can go for hours, especially when it’s a story about Cuba. “Paquita, I need to steal my woman away for a minute,” I say, and her clear blue eyes don’t miss a thing.
“No folles en mi casa,” she says to me, sternly shaking her finger and causing me to choke at her words.
“Nosotros seremos buenos,” I reassure her as her chastised glance follows us to the living room where we wait for Connor and Sebastian to arrive. She shakes her head at me, but stalks off to the kitchen, probably to get us some water even though I told her we were fine. She doesn’t ask; she just takes care of people. No wonder Isabella gets it from her.
“What was that about?” Vivian whispers, coming closer to me.
“She doesn’t want us to fuck in her house.” I grin at her and the rosy flush that takes over her face is priceless. Is there anything she does that isn’t adorable or turns me on? Damn, the way the red spreads across her chest makes my pulse beat faster. Just like this morning as I thrust into her, her beautiful skin covered in a sheen of sweat as she screamed for me and we climaxed together… And now I’m getting a hard-on in my grandparents’ house.Great.
It’s gonna be difficult to obey my grandma’s demand, but I’m respectful. I was raised a gentleman and won’t mess around in their home. Although the temptation might kill me not to make love to Vivian tonight. At least we had this morning… and the rest stop… that’ll have to keep us satisfied for now.
Maybe I can just hold her.
Who am I kidding? I won’t be able to resist sliding my hands inside her pajamas. I saw the silky number she packed and thought of how sexy that’d look on the floor. There’s more than one way to be intimate if I can keep her quiet enough. A hand over her mouth maybe, since my woman does like to get loud. Yeah, that could work…
”Michael?” Vivian looks at me as my grip on her waist has become progressively tighter, fingers stroking her more intently.
“Yes, mi amor?” My eyes snap to hers hungrily, breaking me out of my lust-drunk haze.
“Down, boy.” She laughs, removing my hand from where it was squeezing a little too hard and lacing her fingers with mine.My breath whooshes out of my chest as I realize she’s trying to help tamp down my body’s reaction, so I don’t embarrass myself in front of my family. This woman is perfect for me, just like Paquita said.
“Um, let me help you out here,” she says, eyeing the prominent bulge under my jeans. She moves to stand in front of me, blocking my “problem” from view. But as she starts to lean back against my chest, I hold her away from me slightly, needing a buffer between us.
“Trust me, woman, that will only make it worse,” I growl in her ear when she looks over her shoulder at me questioningly. Her eyes widen, but her lips quirk into a smile in realization as she places my hands on her shoulders, maintaining the skin contact I crave while giving my body space to calm down. I lean forward just enough to press my forehead against her hair and inhale the coconut scent of her shampoo, her jasmine perfume lightly overlaid. Breathing deep, it’s all I need to ground me.
She’s actually here, meeting everyone I care about. The people who will hopefully become her family. If I play my cards right.
A loud knock at the front door breaks me out of the peaceful bubble we’re wrapped in, but I don’t mind. Only Connor knocks that loud; the man doesn’t know his own strength. I open the door to my two best buds who I haven’t seen in weeks. Connor’s carrot-red hair has gotten longer, and Sebastian’s dark hair is pulled back. ”Is that a fucking man bun you’ve got going on?” I ask, reaching behind his head and giving it a tug.
“Nice way to greet your friends.” Connor laughs.
“Fuck off, Michael,” Sebastian grumbles after checking to make sure the bun is still in place.
I can’t help ribbing him some more. For some guys it works, but on him it looks ridiculous. “I knew you were growing it out, but what does Amanda say about it?”
“Oh, don’t you know? She’s the reason he’s got it in the first place.” Connor chortles.
“She says it elevates my look,” Sebastian says a little sheepishly, and I laugh outright. “Hey, are you going to invite us in or are we eating out here? I’m starved.”
“Come on, come in,” I say as we give each other bro hugs and slap each other's backs. No cheek-kissing here; this is Charlotte, not Cuba.
Walking into the living room, I spot Vivian and Isabella chatting animatedly by the fireplace. With the arrival of my friends, the noise level has escalated quickly, so I can’t hear what they’re saying. All I catch is, “Did he say—” and “I know, right?” before they both burst into laughter. Shaking my head with a grin, I return my attention to my friends who are already trapped in Paquita’s embrace. My family hasn’t seen them for a while so there’s a lot of catching up to do. And a game of dominoes on the coffee table waiting to be played.
