Page 53 of The Layover

Raul dragged his tongue along my length as he let my cock fall from his mouth. He looked up at me from where he knelt at my feet, eyes dark with lust and sincerity. “This isn’t me avoiding anything, if that’s what you’re saying. It’s not us ignoring a reality we don’t want to face or muting it. This is a connection. Between you and me. We’re part of each other, and I want—need—you to remember that.”

He gripped me again and glided his mouth down my shaft.

I forced myself to push away doubt about Carly. To push her from my mind at all. Raul was right, I needed to focus on how I was linked to him.

And it was an intense bond. Not just because he was sucking my cock. The cord that tied us to each other was vibrant and strong and unbreakable. I pulled Raul to his feet, fumbling with his belt and trousers before he finished standing.

“I need to be inside you,” I growled against his skin as I sank my teeth into his shoulder. Before I finished shoving his clothes to the ground, I had him on his knees on the bed, tight ass at the perfect height.

I kept one hand on Raul, not wanting to break the circuit that kept electricity flowing between us, and reached into the drawer for lube.

When he had a slippery opening and I had a slick dick, I entered him from behind. Need had me moving faster than maybe I should—that drive to be a part of him—but the sounds that tore from Raul’s throat were pure pleasure.

I loved this feeling, and I wanted to grip his hips and pound hard and fast, but I resisted the urge. Instead, I reached around to fist his cock. Staying buried inside him, I fed off the heat. The bond. All while I stroked.

The hum of building pleasure rolled through Raul and vibrated against me. I used the deliciously familiar cues of the sounds he made to guide my pace and grip as short jerks tugged his hips, and his groans became punctuated bursts, I knew he was close.

He covered my hand with his and set a faster pace. “Fuck me hard,” he grunted.

That was all I needed to hear. I let the leash on my control snap, and worked my hips and legs, slamming inside him. When he came, he coated both our hands with a sticky mess, and the warm slickness only increased my need.

I moved my grip to his hips, and dug my fingers in as I lost myself in how incredible Raul felt wrapped around me. I tumbled toward release as it built inside me. Surging. Pushing. Tightening in every inch of me.

And when I came, I wanted the release to go on for an eternity. To move into this moment of bliss that was just the two of us, and the love we had for each other and the promises we’d made to each other.

I would never let this feeling go.

The frantic need that had wrapped around us faded, and I slowly softened and pulled out of Raul. Cleaning up was fun. Collapsing on the bed next to my husband was incredible.

But what about Carly?

The thought slammed into me out of nowhere.

What about her? Raul was right, even though my heart swore he was wrong.

19

Raul

For the rest of the week, Carly was a level of professional I’d rarely seen in my life. She was efficient, she was composed, and she was never closer to us than she had to be.

Fine with me. The starker the line dividing us from our fling—regardless of how fun it was—the better.

Diego and I spent the weekend the way we usually did. Spending time with Eloise, enjoying each other’s company, and unwinding. Two things made this weekend different from any other…

The number of times Eloise asked when Carly would be back. Each time, I gave her the same answer: Carly didn’t live here, she was only visiting, so she probably wouldn’t be back. And each time, Eloise would frown and say okay, and I would feel like the worst dad in the world for breaking her heart.

And the two calls, one on Saturday and one on Sunday, from Curtis. They sounded like friendly calls. Both of them along the lines of I just wanted to check on you. See if you’ve made any decisions about changing directions. And both times I told him Of course we haven’t.

Monday morning, as I finished cleaning up her breakfast dishes, she ran from the kitchen and into her playroom. A moment later she was back.

“Daddy, I made this.” Eloise handed me a slightly humanoid-looking collection of green Legos.

I took it from her with all the care an original Eloise creation deserved. “It’s fantastic. Does it have a story?”

“Not yet. You have to give it to Carly, and she can tell the alien’s story.”

“Okay.”

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