Page 33 of Hearts to Mend

With a growl in my ear, he says, “There’s a condom on the nightstand. Put it on me.”

Despite the order, he barely gives me any room to work, his weight hovering just inches above me. Caged beneath him, I manage to find the condom, tear open the wrapper, and roll it down his cock. With that done, I look up to meet his gaze and spread my legs wider. It’s all the invitation he needs, and he shifts his hips forward to take me with one sharp thrust.

Ah. Fuck. It hurts a little. It hurts so good.

The last time we were together, he made love to me. This time, he fucks me, hard and fast and so fucking well. Hands still tangled in my hair, he pulls my head back so he can nip and bite my neck, his hot breath scolding my skin as he pistons his hips in a punishing rhythm. It’s so sexy, this animal inside him, this desperation coming out. Everything about him does me in, always has, but the way he fucks me right now—it ruins me so exquisitely.

I’m going to come. Heat starts low in my belly and grows and grows and grows, consuming me with fire. All my muscles tense, seizing and wrapping tighter around him. My legs twist around his hips. My arms choke his neck as I hang on. All it takes is one low, sexy grunt from him, that sound of his desire, his desperation hot against my ear, and the orgasm explodes through me. I scream from the intensity of it as my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul—all of me—comes undone.

Rico comes, too, his breath fluttering the hair by my ear as he lets go.

Holy shit.

I shiver beneath him like I’m cold. I’m not cold. Still, Rico rolls to the side of me and grabs the edge of the blue comforter to bring over me, wrapping his arms around me so I’m cradled against him, enveloped in his heat.

It’s bliss, this place where I’ve found myself. Back in Rico’s embrace after all this time. There’s still a part of me that doesn’t trust him, doesn’t trust myself with him, but right now, that part rests while the other part of me, the part that perks up with excitement every time he’s near, comes out to play.

“Weird,” he says.

“What’s weird?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, like he’s considering, then he says cryptically, “I feel strange.”

Strange is a strange way to phrase it, but I feel it too. Everything about this is strange and—

“My head is killing me, and I can’t focus my eyes.”

“What?” I frown at him. He’s looking right at me but blinking his eyes like he’s trying to clear his vision. I sit up, and he doesn’t move with me, still blinking his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

I flick on the bedside lamp, and Rico flinches, his speech sounding slurred as he mumbles, “That hurts.”

“What hurts?” I need him to clarify.

“Head.”

“Describe the pain.”

“Painful,” he says, and I roll my eyes. But then he elaborates, “It moves.”

“Moves?”

“Everywhere, like lightning. Flashes. I feel it behind my teeth right now, no, my temples. Back of head.”

Shit. I jump up from the bed and reach for my pants, digging my phone out of the back pocket. “And your vision is blurred?”

“Yeah.”

“One eye or both?”

He furrows his brow but then starts alternating one eye open and one eye closed. “Mostly my left eye. Can’t focus. All blurry.”

“Shit,” I mutter as I dial Drew’s number.

“What are you…why…you… I can’t…” Rico is staring at me with that unfocused gaze, not making any sense.

Drew picks up on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I need you to come over here, but I don’t want to alarm Mateo. Can Chloe watch him for a little bit while you help me?”

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