Page 36 of Third Chances (Men of Manhattan 2)

"The story about how you ended up in jail? Were you just staring at my breasts?"

Fuck yes. And now I was imagining sucking on her hard nipples that were clearly visible through her bikini top. The material looked thin and flimsy. I could probably rip it off. Or I could un-tie her top and slowly pull it down, teasing her, until her breasts were exposed to me. That's what I wanted to do. Torture her. Nice and slow. I could probably make her come like that. Just my tongue swirling around her sensitive nipples, maybe a light bite or two. A gentle tug. Someone so tightly wound would be easy to release. She'd be dripping wet, just waiting for me. I so badly wanted to taste her. She smelled like sunscreen and mangos and I would bet good money that she tasted just as sweet. I could already imagine her screaming my name, begging for my cock as my tongue swirled around her juices.

"Rob?" Her eyebrows were furrowed when I looked back up at her face. She had this cute little line in the middle of her forehead. One that came from worrying a lot. What was she worrying about? Someone that beautiful shouldn't be worried. She should be getting her needs attended to.

I cleared my throat. "Right. Sorry. Actually, I have a really great story about this time that I..."

"No," she said. Her breath felt warm against my chest. "I want to hear the Costa Rica one." She splayed her hands on my chest and rested her chin on them as she looked up at me. The new angle removed her ass from underneath my hand.

I sighed. "If you insist." I ran my fingers along the dimples on her lower back. "I was living here a few years ago..."

"In this hotel?" She scrunched up her face in clear disapproval.

"No, beautiful, not in this hotel." I ran my fingers through her hair. I could tell it unnerved her when I called her that. It was clear that she wasn't used to being called beautiful. But she should be. She was gorgeous. If someone else wasn't telling her, I could. I could be that person. Even if it was just for a few days. "This is actually the first time I've ever been to this hotel. I did live in Costa Rica for about six months, though. I spent most of my time in San Jose."

She nodded. "That's good. If you lived here for six months being part of this stupid bracelet game I'd probably have to worry about you having STDs."

I made a mental note not to share my sexual history with her. And also of the fact that she was thinking about STDs, which meant she was thinking about having sex with me. "I'm clean. You have nothing to worry about there."

She rolled her eyes. "Get back to the story."

Didn't she realize she was killing me with those eye rolls? "Like I said, it's not a good story. They have this huge labor day parade every year. But it's not like labor day in the US, which doesn't seem to mean anything anymore. In Costa Rica, it's their day to air their grievances toward their government. When I was living here, there was a water shortage. Not just in San Jose. The whole country was basically living without water. People were dying on the streets. And I was standing there, watching this peaceful parade and it made me mad. It wasn't enough. They weren't getting their point across. People were going to keep dying. Nothing was going to change." I wasn't sure why she wanted to hear this. It wasn't funny. It wasn't a good story. And just talking about it made me mad again.

But she was just staring at me with her big green eyes, so I kept going.

"When the parade was over, I joined some protesters. But like I said, there were tons of people airing their grievances, not just about the water shortage, but about all sorts of stuff. Obama was visiting later that week and there were some protestors against that. Obama was going to talk about the embargo on Cuba and other free trade agreements, and the people of Costa Rica didn't care. The United States lumps all of the counties in Central America together, but Costa Rica doesn't get shit from the embargo on Cuba. They don't benefit from it at all. And everyone was mad that Obama chose now, when the country is dying of thirst, to talk about something that doesn't affect them. Costa Rica isn't part of the United States. They have their own problems. People were dying. And I was right next to them. So I joined their not as peaceful protest. Because...fuck that. It turned into a riot and I got arrested. End of story."

She continued to stare at me. But I didn't have anything else to say.

"That's the whole story." The way she was looking at me was unnerving.

She nestled back down into the crook of my arm. "I'm sorry I judged you before I knew you."

"Thanks." I wasn't exactly sure what else to say.

Her fingers ran through the contours of my six pack. I tried to keep completely still. It seemed like she was doing it absentmindedly, and I didn't want her to stop. I just wanted her to go lower. I was about two seconds away from pulling that hand job card out of my pocket. Apparently I was wrong about that story. I'd have to tell it more often if it resulted in this response.

"And I think it's nice that you look out for your future sister in law. It's sweet how much you care."

"Sweet? I'm not sweet." If she knew how many times I had jerked off to the thought of Penny, she would have called me anything but sweet. Not that I made a hobby of jerking off to the thought of my future sister in law. I jerked off to most dimes I met. Penny just happened to be around a lot. Which meant it was

easy to picture her. It wasn't a big deal.

"You are sweet, actually. Don't get defensive. I think it's nice. You left off an important part of your story though. How did you get out of prison?"

"I'm not sweet," I said again. "James bailed me out. I went back to the states a few months later."

She stopped running her fingers along my abs and looked up to me. "So, your brother bailed you out of Costa Rican prison. Doesn't that mean you owe him a favor? Like, maybe letting him talk to his fiancée?"

"I'm pretty sure we're even right now."

"You're keeping score of favors with your brother?"

"Like you don't do that with your siblings?"

There was a flash of something across her face. It was fleeting. It had disappeared before I could tell what it was.

She pressed the side of her face against my chest. "I don't have any siblings. But that's what family does. They help each other without keeping score. FYI."

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