He slides his fingers softly on my neck and then my man does what I ask. I bring my fingers back between my legs and lean back gripping his balls in my other hand.
Riding his cock while his hand is around my throat is like walking on air. I feel weightless, unstoppable. He pinches my nipple with his other hand and every nerve on my body rises to attention.
"I'm, oh God, I don't know if—" Mateo stutters, and his grip on my throat tightens just as I instructed. My entire body shudders, my pussy a vise grip on his cock as we come.
His hand leaves my throat.
"Fuck," he says between gritted teeth as he grips my hips, pushing and pulling, using my body to milk his dick.
I stay where I am as his cock softens inside me.
"So yes to the praise kink then?" I ask.
"With you, yes," he says.
"With me?"
"Only you." He pulls my face to his and kisses me. His tongue tangles with mine, and I relax into his kiss. I trust him. The revelation is terrifying.
I pull away, and climb off him, his dick slipping out of me. Falling onto my back beside him, I pick up his hand, tracing the lines of his tattoo with my finger.
Like a snake shedding its skin, we're evolving.
And surprisingly, I like who we're becoming.
Chapter twenty-seven
Mateo
Iflex my hand and picture the way it looked around Jade's neck. How beautiful she was, and how easily we seem to fit into the role the other needs. But we're so far apart in life. I'm fucking retired and trying to settle down, she still has so much life to live. Is it fair for me to ask for more? Would I be asking her to give up years of her life to be with me?
"What's next for you?" Mom asks, handing me a mug of coffee and saving me from myself. "Any thoughts on work? Or if you'll go back to Baltimore?"
I stop the porch swing from swaying, and she sits, pulling some of my blanket over her legs. This spot has quickly become one of my favorites. It's quiet, usually, and the November air revives me when I start to spiral down to a dark place.
I sip from my mug, buying time.
"Kiddo, we never really—"
"Mom, please. Kiddo?"
She smiles and holds her mug with both hands. "Graying beard or not, you're still my baby."
"Please stop."
"But seriously, Mateo. Is this what's next for you? If it is, that's okay." She sips her coffee. "You've worked hard. You deserve a respite. I only want to make sure…honey, is it going to be enough for you?"
I try to imagine this as my life. Could I be happy doing nothing? No. Absolutely not. I'm fucking losing it. But I'm not ready to tell her about the Zoom meeting I had with SportsMedia yesterday. The truth is, I'd already decided I wasn't going back. Then Earl Pryor sent me a vague email, and the next thing I knew, he was offering me a commentator position.
I sigh but can't seem to form words to give Mom the peace she's clearly seeking.
"You're allowed to carve your own path." Mom pats my good knee over the blanket.
"That's exactly what I told Addie a few weeks ago," I say with a shake of my head.
"Oh, that girl. She certainly gives us a run for our money, doesn't she?"
"She'll be okay," I tell Mom, hoping I sound reassuring. "She's just a little lost among—"
