Page 22 of High

He whimpered when my fingers got a little too close to his hole. I was pushing too hard, too fast, so I knew it was time to back off. I helped him stand on his feet again before I released his mouth from mine. Manny panted, his lips freshly swollen and red.

“I fucked others, and I’m sorry for that, hermoso, but you are mine and I’m yours. I don’t care how long it takes for you to trust me again, or how long it will take you to allow me to make love to you, but you will eventually, and I will wait.”

I didn’t stay for his response. Spinning on my heel, I stormed out of his room and down the curved stairs to the main living room. By the time I got downstairs, I was panting, need sitting heavy in my gut. My cock was fully hard after only kissing, a first for me. With Manny, though, everything was a first. He made me want in a way no one else could. I trusted him with my life, one of the few people I did.

Joder!

I swiped my hand against a lamp on the table beside the large L-shaped couch and sent it flying to the floor, clattering with a loud smash that made someone in the next room yell in surprise. Teresa, one of our maids, came rushing in, stopping at the sight of me staring at the lamp.

“Señor, está todo bien?” she asked, wringing her hands together nervously.

I glanced at her in the immaculate gray dress all the female servants around the house wore, and the way she had her dark hair tied up in a tight bun on the top of her head, and sighed. “Yes, Teresa, everything is fine.”

“Señor,are you sure?” She shifted farther into the room, concern crossing her kind face. She’d only just joined our services last year, but her mother had been our servant for over twenty years. Her mother, Silvia, had always been my favorite, and I grew up thinking of her as more of a tía than a servant. Teresa was as loyal as her mamá.

“Sí. Can you clean this up for me?”

Teresa nodded and quickly walked farther into the room, bending down to pick up the bigger pieces of the shattered lamp. I crouched to help her and she eyed me carefully. Even though I’d done nothing to hurt the servants, they all looked at me as though I’d snap at any point. Most of my men did too. Maybe it was because I killed and hurt without remorse when someone betrayed me or fucked up.

“What happened?” Manny’s voice made me glance up, and I passed the pieces in my hand to Teresa, standing and then stepping over the broken lamp to walk to him. He had a pair of jeans on with a dark green polo shirt, and boat shoes that I hated but Manny had always felt were comfortable.

“I accidentally bumped the lamp,” I lied easily and smiled, stepping closer to him. “Come with me. I’ll show you around.”

He glanced at Teresa but let me lead him toward the back of the house. The mansion had ten bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, a gym, two living rooms, two dining rooms, including one that was formal, a bowling alley, a theater room, a library filled with books, and an outdoor pool and tennis court—everything that could hopefully entertain Manny while I wasn’t home.

I took him to the bowling alley, which was on the first floor. The room was set up as half the alley, while the other half was more of a man cave, with a few sets of leather wingback chairs, and a bar stocked with top-shelf liquor. When I’d known Manny last, he’d never drunk much of anything alcoholic, but that could have changed.

Manny stared around the room with wide eyes before he focused on the three-lane bowling alley. “Are you serious?”

I laughed. While Don Antonio’s house was big, with lots of bedrooms and its own gym, it never had the fun rooms. “You love bowling.”

Manny snorted and laughed. “No, you love it because you could kick my culo.”

“I would never!”

He laughed harder until he had trouble breathing and needed to sit down in one of the chairs near him. “You actually bought a house with a bowling alley?”

“No, I built it after I bought the house. We had so much fun going to the alley when we were younger.” I sat in the chair opposite his and smiled. “We used to have fun, hermoso.”

His grin faded and he nodded solemnly. “We did.”

“We still can.”

“Can we?” His eyes narrowed on me and felt more like a glare. “You killed a man, Thio. The boy I used to know would never have done that.”

“I did, though.” I leaned forward and reached for his hands. To my surprise he let me take them, and I squeezed his warm fingers. “I never wanted you afraid of me, but I did what I needed to.”

“For your papá?”

“For our fathers, until Don Antonio left us.” I shook my head because I’d already said too much.

“What do you mean left you? What did Papá do?” He pursed his lips, gaze pleading, and I was weak to him. But I couldn’t give in. Not this time.

“I can’t tell you.”

“To keep me safe?” he spat, yanking his hands out of mine. He stood and began to pace, and I let him, watching the way he mumbled to himself in Spanish. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I didn’t miss hijo de puta. “You and Papá are the same. You ramble about keeping me safe, but you keep me in the dark. How can I stay safe if I never know what’s going on? I’m an adult, Thio, and I don’t need you to protect me. I’m fucking twenty-three years old now, the same age as Arlo. You don’t keep him away from it.”

I shook my head. “Arlo is different. He grew up being prepared, like me. Don Antonio kept you away from all of this.”