Page 56 of Hearts to Mend

“Yes, God, yes.” The words come out in little huffs of breath as he rams home over and over, and I can hardly breathe, and it’s so hot I’m going to explode any second.

But then he comes to a full stop, and I cry out, desperate for more. He unwraps his arms from my neck and balances on his knees behind me, slowly sliding his cock in and out as his hands clutch my ass, groping roughly. This works too. I mewl and writhe beneath him, then yelp when he spanks me.

Left hand to left ass cheek. Right hand to right ass cheek. He does it over and over again. I cry out from the sharp sting of each slap and groan from the deep burn they leave. It hurts so good. Rico has gotten kinky with age and experience, and I love it. Being with him now is such a strange combination of old and new, familiar and unknown, and apparently, it’s exactly what I need from him. As much as I have always and will always love the Rico I used to know, I’m extremely fond of this newer version of him too.

When my ass is pretty much lit on fire, his weight comes back on top of me, crushing me into the bed as he starts to fuck me hard and fast again. “That’s for tomorrow. When you’re sitting in my hospital room beside mamá, I want you to feel that burn and think of me, remember what I do to you, and how much you fucking love it.”

Jesus, I’m going to come right now, just from the dirty talk. With his weight all over me, crushing me as he’s fucking me, he shoves his free hand between my thighs and presses against my clit, rubbing me just right, and I come in an instant. The orgasm quakes and spasms through my body, sending me bucking beneath him as he keeps fucking me, keeps touching me, drawing it out, bringing me to orgasm again and still again in a whole chain reaction.

And then he comes, too, shaking on my back and bellowing at my ear. Covering me, crushing me with his wonderful weight as he fills me with his come.

Fucking hell, I love this man.

* * *

“What time?” I sit on my sore ass at the table, watching Rico cook a late lunch at my stove.

He’s in just his jeans, and I’m mesmerized by his back, his toned muscles shifting as he flips food in the skillet. I can see the shrapnel scars on his shoulder, and a few new purplish spots around his neck and shoulders, bruises already forming from our afternoon delight. When you fuck rough while on blood thinners, it leaves marks.

“Mamá is taking me to check in at seven, surgery is at nine. I’ll probably be out of surgery by eleven, so you could turn up then.”

What’s this “you could turn up at eleven” nonsense? Who does he think he’s talking to? “I’ll be there at seven.”

Rico quirks his lips into half a grin, like he half expected me to say that. He comes to the table and serves up some chicken and veggies. We eat together as the radio plays in the background. I like these times with Rico. The sex between us is amazing, but these quiet times we share are much more intimate. “What’s Mateo going to be up to tomorrow while we’re at the hospital?”

Rico smiles. “His tios are taking him to Volente Beach for a day of fun in the sun.”

“That sounds perfect. Does he know the surgery is happening?”

“He knows I’ll be having a ‘procedure’ at the hospital. We decided not to provide more detail than that. He’s too young to understand it all, and he gets nervous when we talk about my heart condition. He’s afraid he’s going to lose me.”

Oh God, my heart breaks for that little boy. His mom is out of the picture, and now this scare with his dad too? All the more, it makes me appreciate Rico’s brothers coming to stay and surround Rico and Mateo with family while they go through this.

After a moment, Rico says, “I’m a little scared too.”

“Rico, this procedure is minimally invasive, with an extremely low mortality rate. You’re young and fit, you’re a low risk for complications. By tomorrow night, you’ll be back home with a mended heart and a long future for you and your son to spend together.”

Rico grins as he finishes his food and wipes his hands clean, then reaches for one of my legs. Pulling my foot up onto his lap, he starts massaging. After a twenty-four-hour shift, nothing feels better than this. Not even all those screaming orgasms can top the full-body relief I get when he works his thumb along the ball of my foot. With a moan, I move my other foot onto his lap.

He gives me the funniest look, a combination of amusement and affection as he rubs both my feet. “Mamá keeps telling me to marry you.”

“What?” I sit up so quickly my feet come out of Rico’s grip and hit the floor with a pair of thuds. But seriously. “What?”

Who said anything about marriage? We only just announced we’re a couple today with that kiss at The Rusty Bucket. And now he’s casually talking about marriage?

Still talking about his mom, Rico says, “She’s old-fashioned, believes that marriage should come before sex.”

“We’ve been having sex since we were seventeen.”

“She didn’t know we were having sex back then.”

“Oh, you naïve man.” I stand and take our dishes to the sink, focused on scrubbing them clean. Trying not to think too much—or at all—about Rico’s casual reference to marriage, like it’s nothing. I realize that for someone who married because of an accidental pregnancy, maybe it is nothing. Just a legal status change. But for me, marriage means something.

I scrub those plates until the shine wears off, then shut off the water and take a deep breath before I turn to face him and give him a piece of my mind. “Okay, listen up because I’m only going to say this once. The man I someday choose to marry will sweep me off my fucking feet. He will make me feel adored and loved and understood and needed. He will not just casually mention maybe getting married someday because his mom is old-fashioned. He will not treat marrying me like it’s meaningless. He will want to marry me because I am as essential to him as the air he breathes. And his proposal will be an event, a spectacular event. I will not settle for anything less.”

“As well you shouldn’t,” Rico says. “You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever known, and you shouldn’t settle, ever, for anyone or anything.”

“Glad we’re in agreement.”

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