Page 158 of Embriagado
A smile pulled on my lips at the thought of him and how freaking sexy he was. Shit. We fucked all night, yet it seemed my dick still hadn’t had enough, with how it had just jerked in my sweats. And as I poured hot water into my mug, I remembered how sexy Ari looked when I blew him in the shower. If before sleeping with him I thought one fuck would be enough, now I realized nothing ever would. Every kiss, every bite, every taste… it left me fucking starving for more.
From top to bottom, he was perfect. Whether it was how soft his skin felt or how firm his muscles were pressed against me, the shape of his lips, down to the arch of his back, he was a walking, breathing wet dream. Or, in his case, a fucked-up nightmare.
I could go on talking about his body for hours, because I kid you not, every part of him made me throb. But the scary thing was that it went beyond the physical shit. Sure, he had an ass I’d die for, and our sexual chemistry was off the charts, but the way I felt around him drove me nuts.
He was fucked-up to the core. Without a doubt, the most screwed-up guy I’d ever met, and yet, I’d never felt so at peace next to someone else before. He once said we were nothing alike, and I get it, he was ice-cold while I was a fucking blaze, but maybe that’s what made it make sense, the fact that there was none? Not that it actually mattered. In the end, I felt good around him, and that was enough of a reason to hold on.
“Look who’s finally home,” my brother said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Turning around to face him, I found him at the entrance to the kitchen. From the looks of it, he’d just woken up. Which was nice, considering it was before noon.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing my cup of black coffee and taking a sip. It tasted good, but not nearly as good as the coffee at Ari’s place. Despite not drinking any, he’d recently bought a new espresso machine, and I drank that fancy shit by the gallon.
“Found a new boyfriend or somethin’?” Nacio yawned while moving to check the fridge.
“No.”
He took out the milk. “Bullshit.”
“Don’t drink from the carton, dumbass.”
Ignoring me, he took another sip before placing the milk back in the fridge and kicking the door closed.
“Seriously, bro, if you got a new man, just say so.” He grinned at me like a jackass. “Or did you finally switch to pussy—”
“Fuck off,” I hissed, then took another long gulp of my coffee while he went on laughing.
“You know I’m joking, right?” He fist-bumped my shoulder. “Just wonderin’ where my big bro disappears to all the freakin’ time.”
Turning my back on him, I placed the empty mug in the sink and turned on the tap. “Work keeps me busy, not to mention training.”
He huffed. “Yeah, yeah, you and your fake training.”
I held the cup tighter under the running water. “What’re you getting at, Nacio?”
“I just don’t buy that you get your hands and face so fucked-up just from sparrin’, that’s all.”
My irritation grew, and I placed the mug down before I broke it. Turning off the water, I grabbed a towel to dry my hands then turned to face him.
“So, how’d you get those bruises?” he asked.
“The fuck’s with all these questions, huh?”
His brows pulled into a deep frown. “Dunno. The fuck’s up with you keepin’ shit to yourself?” He bit on his bottom lip, just like Ariyan did whenever he was upset. “Seriously, Santi, I know you’re lying ’cause ain’t no fuckin’ way your hands look like this just from punching a bag.”
Not saying a word, I kept my mouth shut because he had every reason to suspect me. Fighting bare-knuckled sure left my hands in a shitty state, and it was hard to cover up. Still, Nacio wasn’t the type to shove his nose where it didn’t belong, or so I thought.
“I’m back fighting, okay?”
His eyes widened, his brows nearly reaching his hairline. “What—”
“Don’t get excited. It’s just some lame tournaments that a guy I used to work with hosts. Nothing big.”
“Fuck yes.” He fisted his hands. “Can I come? Wait, no, can I fight?”
“Fuck no.” I grimaced, clenching my jaw. “It’s fucking illegal.”
“So what?” He stepped closer. “You do it.”
