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“Come here,” I ordered, crooking my finger at him. I leaned back against the coffee table behind me and spread my bent knees apart. He immediately settled between them, leaning his back against my chest. I wound my arms around him, the flames crackling in front of us as they licked at the wood.
Much in the same way I was aching to lick at this boy’s skin. And his cock. I’d seen it—seen how fucking pretty it was—and now that I knew what it looked like—thick and long and veiny with a slight curve at the end—I couldn’t stop goddamn daydreaming about it being in my mouth.
Or letting him top me. Because fuck I wanted to see his face when he sank into me and had something tight and warm wrapped around his prick. I wanted to bottom for him just so he knew he held as much control over me as I did over him.
I was so fucking gone for him.
“Want to watch some TV?” I asked, grabbing the remote from the coffee table.
He looked up at me. “We can watch TV?”
I chuckled and nodded. “We’re not in the dark ages.” I turned on the TV that was placed on the mantle above the fireplace. I found SpongeBob and set the remote down on the floor beside us, wrapping my arm back around him.
“I like this,” Gabriel whispered a little while later. “Being alone with you. It feels… nice. Good. Safe.”
I pressed a kiss to the back of his head. I would do my best not to destroy that for him. He felt safe with me, and I wouldn’t burst that bubble for him.
Just wished it didn’t feel like it was going to kill me at the same time.
“I like this, too, baby boy.”
12
Gabriel
Islowly opened my eyes, my ass a little sore from sitting on the floor for so long. The TV was still playing SpongeBob. Even though the curtains were closed, sunlight streamed through the edges, and by the brightness, I figured it was sometime in the middle of the day.
I’d slept for a really long time. Even on the way up here, I’d only been awake maybe two hours altogether—just long enough each time for me to hydrate and eat. The shootout that happened at the clubhouse had worn me down to the bone. Between the fear that my family would get their hands on me again and that something would happen to Tango and the possibility of having to shoot someone, I’d been a nervous fucking wreck. And I knew I’d regressed. Far.
Thankfully, Tango had never judged me for it. He just wrapped me up in his hoodie when he couldn’t hold me so I was still surrounded by him and still felt safe. Every time he took care of me during one of my episodes, I loved him even more. I couldn’t fucking help it.
Tango was… everything. And he was so good to me.
I eased out of Tango’s arms, being careful not to wake him, and stood to my feet, stretching my arms above my head. Spotting a throw blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch, I grabbed it. After unfolding it, I carefully draped it over Tango, not wanting to wake him up.
He needed a lot of rest. He’d been going and going and going for hours without a single bit of shut-eye.
I had no idea how he did it. I would’ve crashed way before we got here.
I made my way to the kitchen, my socked feet warm against the cold, hardwood floors. I got the coffee maker going and then searched through the fridge, finding what I needed to put together a breakfast of eggs, pancakes, and bacon.
I blinked in surprise at the full fridge. Alejandro had made sure we had everything we needed; that was for sure. There was enough food in this house to feed a small army.
I glanced up at the window over the kitchen sink, wishing I could open the curtains to let some natural light in. But I didn’t know Tango’s rules yet, and I didn’t want to accidentally make him angry or break one that hadn’t been spoken yet.
I hated it when Tango was disappointed in me. When he was, I literally wanted to vomit. I enjoyed living by the rules he set. They gave me structure and boundaries. I knew how to operate when he was telling me what to do and what not to do. My anxiety didn’t threaten to overwhelm me now that Tango had taken over control of my life.
A groan had my head jerking to the living room. Tango sat up with a wince, the blanket falling to his lap. Immediately, he looked over to the kitchen, our gazes clashing. His blue eyes softened at the sight of me cracking eggs into a bowl, and his lips tilted up at the corners.
My heart tripped in my chest. That smile should be illegal, but even if it was, I would still ache to see it every single day.
“Hey, baby,” he rumbled as he stood from the floor, another wince flashing over his face. I didn’t like that he seemed to be in pain, but he was the one who’d stayed on the floor, and that was where he’d been when I found him after getting up. “I’ll be right back.”
I nodded and focused back on what I was doing. The coffee maker beeped as I was whisking the eggs, and then Tango was at my side, his body brushing mine, making a shiver snake down my spine. He grabbed a coffee mug out of the cabinet and set it on the counter, pouring coffee into it—black. I grimaced.
He chuckled as he popped the two pain pills in his hand into his mouth and swallowed them with the scalding coffee without so much as a wince, even though steam was steadily rising from the mug. “Need help?”
I shrugged. “Not really, but you can if you want.” I pushed the pancake box to him. “Can you do the pancakes?”
