Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
The Correa cousins were so unlike one another Miguel privately referred to them as Laurel and Hardy. Short and gangly, Ezra put the bottle against the front of his jeans and moved his hand over the damp glass in an obscene parody of masturbation. His tall and chunky companion, Carlos, sniggered, mouthing something about Miguel’s bitch watch, but whatever it was exactly, was probably not worth knowing anyway.
Sure, Miguel considered Nero a degenerate, but after three months of watching over him, he’d grown attached to the idea of being his protector. While he never held back telling his boss what he thought of the constant sexcapades and partying, it was something he would never confront him with when anyone else was around. And definitely not behind his back. Only loyalty would get Miguel to Nero’s father.
The rhythmic sounds behind the wall sped up, accompanied by loud moans, and it became impossible to not think about Nero flattened against the bricks, legs spread and taking dick like he was born for it. He even grunted at Aaron to go faster, prompting the image of the big guy’s hips working overtime to give the greedy bitch a good enough dicking.
Miguel steadied his breath and rubbed his forehead, wishing away the lusty vision.
But then Nero got louder, moaning as if he were in pain, which prompted Miguel to step away from the wall and stare at it with the knowledge that only brick parted him from a sweaty, flushed Nero, who then, in a low, raspy voice, uttered his name. He could almost feel a warm tongue against his neck.
He froze, overcome by a river of intense heat cascading through his body. Was this... a call for help?
Miguel cleared his throat, but his mouth was still dry when he spoke. “Should I… come?”
Nero moaned, and gravel creaked under someone’s shoe as the sound of slapping flesh intensified. “Ah... why not... Aaron is about... to be done... I’d love to see you come, Miguel...”
It was obscene, and yet his voice was like thick chocolate poured straight into Miguel’s throat.
“Menace,” he said loudly and crossed his arms on his chest. He didn’t know whether it was Nero’s fondness for him that allowed him to get away with such comments or if Nero truly had hopes of getting into Miguel’s pants, but he appreciated not having to keep his mouth shut at times like this.
Nero’s laugh was breathy, almost soft, but when Aaron let out a choked grunt, Nero followed suit. Within moments, they were both silent.
“I’m guessing you’re alive?” Miguel asked as seconds passed.
Nero hummed. “Nooo, Miguel, don’t make me talk just yet...”
So Miguel stayed quiet, trying not to imagine Nero’s blissed-out face or the cock sliding out of him. Before Miguel had met Nero, he’d rarely had to confront his desires. Every now and then, he’d meet a man who made him look twice, in ways women never did, but it was never this savage onslaught of flirting, of a man making himself so available. And while Miguel had a hard time accepting what that meant, he wasn’t stupid. There was attraction in him for the man he should despise. There was attraction in him for a man.
But at the end of the day, every Caiman deserved to die, including (or especially) Nero Moreno. A spark of lust couldn’t change that.
Behind the wall, he could hear the men rearrange their clothes in silence, as if whatever relationship they’d had fifteen minutes ago was now over. Hardly a surprise for someone who knew Nero’s history, though it gave Miguel a sliver of satisfaction that Aaron would soon be out of the door while Miguel would stay and finally call his mother once Nero rests in his bedroom.
Soft footsteps made him look up in time to see Nero’s shiny face emerge from behind the impromptu privacy screen.
“Is he leaving now?” Miguel asked, as if he wasn’t bothered by the bruised look of Nero’s lips or the scratches the wall had left on his cheek
Nero rolled his shoulder, his tattooed torso shiny with fresh sweat.
Aaron stepped into view, rosy as a maiden. “What about the condo—”
“Just drop it somewhere,” Nero told him, taking careful steps, as if his legs were made of fabric, not flesh and bone.
Miguel’s gaze followed the valley of his spine all the way to the muscular shoulders. But while he enjoyed staring, he wouldn’t even know how to touch a man like Nero, who seemed so set on what he wanted and how.
Aaron left the little baggie of jizz someplace behind the wall and grinned at Miguel as if what he’d done should be a source of pride, not shame.
“I could stay if you don’t have other plans. There’s plenty of time for a repeat later,” he teased, placing his arm on Nero’s shoulders.