I gasped, muscles clenching hard. Breath coming in spurts as he touched me exactly where he wanted to put his mouth.
“I want that.” I begged as his hands played me like a well-used instrument. I’d used toys on myself plenty of times and knew for a fact my ass was extremely sensitive, but I never had anyone touch me there like this. Everything Yariel had made me feel so far was all-consuming. I pressed into his hand as his dry finger massaged the sensitive rim of my hole. “Push it in, harder,” I pleaded, completely fucking thrown by the need in my voice. I loved sex, I did, and over the years had plenty of really great partners. But Yariel’s hands were changing the course of my life with every touch.
“What if I told you I wanted to have you right here?” He sounded as winded as I was. He pressed his words on my skin, as I moaned, delirious from lust. “Strip you naked and splay you on that couch, make you scream my name so everyone on this plane knows I’m back here fucking you?”
I bucked as my dick pulsed against his. The images his words elicited were drowning out every ounce of sense I had.
“I’d love it. I’d let you have me here, I wouldn’t care who hears me,” I promised as I rocked hard into him, his own hips thrusting in unison with mine. Building and building a delicious pressure. I was so close to coming, I could taste it. “I only wish we could’ve been doing this sooner. That I would’ve acted differently on graduation night—”
I knew I’d said the wrong thing the moment it came out of my mouth, but it was already too late. Yariel’s hands slid out of my pants like he’d been burned, and with the same ease that he’d plucked me out of my seat and settled me on his lap, he took me off. He wouldn’t look at me and I knew enough not to ask what was wrong.
Iknewwhat was wrong. I’d mentioned graduation night and almost talked aboutthe kiss.
After getting my clothes back on properly, I turned to him. “You’re not gonna talk to me?”
He was back to glaring at clouds, his jaw clenched so tightly I feared he’d chip his ten thousand dollar veneers. “There’s nothing so say, Hatuey. We need to stop doing this. This isn’t us. You’re my best friend. We can’t work like this.”
I scoffed as I looked down at his still very obvious erection. His body language was off, his shoulders turned away from me, face like stone, but the evidence that he’d been right there with me just seconds ago was still on display.
“Why are you doing this, Yariel? If we can’t ‘work like this,’”—I made air-quotes to his turned back—“why did you just tell me you were going to fuck me blind on this plane? And what about me begging you to do it tell you that I’m not ready to see where things go with us?”
My chest was moving up and down like I’d been doing sprints. I wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and force him to look at me. The tension between us was a presence in the cabin, heavy and sickening. And I wasn’t the only one reeling.
No matter how hard he tried to keep himself together, I didn’t miss that when Yariel rubbed his hands over his face, there was a tremor there, the brown skin of his face ashen. And deep down I knew he was right to be scared. This was new territory for us, and now the person I usually went to when I couldn’t figure things out was closed off to me.
“Yariel. Talk to me, please. I feel like I’m losing my mind with you. You tell me you want me, but then you push me away. This is us—we can talk about anything. Why can’t we figure this out?”
He growled in frustration, head swiveling from side to side. “This is exactly why we need to stop this shit. We are going to ruin everything.”
That hurt. Enough to knock the air out of my lungs. Maybe I was alone in this. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to him to make all these changes. “You could just say this isn’t worth it to you, Ya—”
He didn’t let me finish, springing out of his seat like his ass was on fire. He sat across from me as I watched him in silent agony. “I need a little distance from you right now, Hatuey. Because I feel like I’m going to do something really fucking wild.” He ran shaky fingers over his bottom lip as he found the right words. “This isn’t about me wanting you. Youknowthat. You fucking had to know all these years.”
The sound that came out of his mouth was bitter and hollow, but I supposed he intended it to be a laugh. “You have to stop asking me, because I can’t say no to you. And we justcan’t.”
I wanted to push him hard, prod with my mouth and tongue and dick until he broke, knowing already that those were the ways I could undo him. But that would only get me temporary satisfaction. He would let himself go until I did or said something that would get us back to another impasse.
Something was going on with Yariel. Something keeping him from coming to me. If I wanted to find out, I had to wait until his guard was lowered or he was too pissed to hold it in, and none of those things could happen on this plane.
So I conceded. “Okay. I’ll stop asking.” He gave me a narrow look, like he couldn’t believe I was giving in so easily. I tried to smile as sweetly as I could. “We’re fine,” I reassured him, and made a show of grabbing my e-reader and picking up the drink that had been forgotten in the rush to get our dicks out.
Yariel watched me for a couple of beats and then hunched his big body to make his way to the tiny restroom. I pretended to contentedly read my book.
I’d let it go for now. If I wanted to win the long game, if I wanted to bring Yariel Cabral to his knees, it would not be on the offensive. I had to make him come tome. I had the next three days to do it.
Operation Make Him Sweat was still in full force—I just needed to change tactics.
Chapter 5
Friday
Yariel
Contrary to what all Dominican mothers will tell you, one’s dick cannot fall off from jerking it too much. In the twenty-four hours since I got on the plane to the DR with Hatuey, I’d gotten myself off so many times I was starting to worry about chafing. And apparently not even breakfast was safe. Because Hatuey had walked out of his bedroom in nothing but briefs and paraded his ass all over the kitchen until I had to get up in the middle of eating. Now he was out for a run and I was sweating already knowing he’d probably come back shirtless.
We’d gotten into Casa de Campo—the exclusive beach and golf resort where the team’s fundraiser was happening—in the late afternoon and immediately had a dinner to attend, which at least gave me a reprieve from thirsting after Hatuey. Today’s agenda for the fundraiser was not very demanding, so Hatuey had made plans for us since I only had to make an appearance at a black-tie gala that evening. The rest of the time was all for my best friend.
It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend at the beach, an excuse to come back home with my favorite person. A chance to get away from New York City winter for a few days. Instead, I was in a constant state of sexual frustration and really confusing feelings. From one moment to the next I’d go from wondering if it could really be true that Hatuey wanted this, to feeling resentful that I’d been robbed of years of having him. Resentful of the promise I’d made his father on the night of our high school graduation.
