We get in the car and drive back to the docks with a long afternoon of meetings ahead of me.
It's late in the evening and I’m in my study, placing my two new teeth additions that arrived today into my collection. I take the opportunity to make sure all my pieces are shiny and on display. I feel nothing but pride when I look at them.
A loud banging on the door brings me back into the room. I know who it is. There is only one person I know who could have a fight with an inanimate object. I knew he’d come. Lucas must’ve informed the guys to allow him up.
The rattling on my door continues as I slow my stride to answer it. There’s no rush.
I open the door with the slowest pace possible, to be greeted by a scowling Simon. His nostrils flared, eyes squinting. He wants to hurt me. Maybe even kill me.
“What did my door do to you?”
Simon slams into me, almost causing me to lose balance as he stomps into my penthouse like he owns it. He would look good here full time. All mine, day and night.
“You’re ruining my life, Carlos! What the fuck was that in the club? Touching me like that, making the others think I’m like that.”
“You are like that.”
“Shut up!” he roars, grabbing his hair and turning to face the window. He’s a mess.
“What do you want from me, Simon? Nobody forced you to come over and verbally attack me earlier. You do it to yourself and what I don’t understand is what you’re so afraid of,” I say, my hands in my black pants pockets and my maroon shirt partly open. He swivels on his feet and walks over to me.
“I want nothing from you. I want you to leave me alone.”
“No you don’t. You want me to fuck you. Because you need it. You’re bisexual, Simon. Which means you like men.”
I knew it was coming and I allow it. A swift punch in my face. It's not too hard but hard enough that I have to wiggle my jaw to ease the ache, tenderness blooming in my cheek. But he can’t expect me to just stand here, so I punch him back. My hand curls into a fist and I return the hit, deciding to punch him in the stomach as I don’t want to mark that pretty face. With a grunt, he stumbles back, bumping into my sofa, clutching his stomach, gasping for air.
“We can do this all night, Simon. I enjoy it.”
Gathering his composure, he runs at me, grabbing me around the waist as he tackles me to the floor, the thud of our bodies onto the hardwood rattles in the echo of the open plan room. The fight is quick, brutal, more about pride than pain. I snarl at him, twisting, but Simon's weight and pure determination pins me down. We are locked in a struggle—knees scraping, fists grappling, teeth bared in something between fury and desire. Our breath burns in the inches of air between us, every exhale hot, ragged and dangerous.
As I shove him, I almost manage to roll him over, but Simon doesn’t relent. He drives his upper body harder into my torso, pinning me into the ground as he leans close enough our foreheads collide. It isn’t victory or dominance he’s after, it's something darker and deeper. A need that's been twisting under his ribs for too long for him to ignore it.
The fight stutters, not stopped but suspended. Simon clamps his hand on my wrist, holding me still. Our eyes lock— defiance sparkling like flint against steel—and the silence stretches so taut, it feels like it might snap.
Finally, Simon crushes his mouth to mine. It isn’t tender. It's a clash, a bite, a reckless surrender to the same heat that made us fight in the first place. I resist for half a heartbeat, before giving in with equal ferocity then flipping us over and pinning Simon to the ground using my whole bodyweight. The kiss turns into another battle, one neither of us intends on losing.
16
SIMON
I kiss Carlos with every ounce of hate and lust I have, hating myself for it, all while pulling him closer as every inch of me
screams ‘don’t’. But it's too late, I’m too far gone into the moment. We break apart, breathless and I let my forehead rest
against Carlos’ lips that are as swollen as my own, our hearts both racing.
“This is a mistake,” I say weakly, like it’ll stop me.
“Then let's keep making it. Bedroom. Now,” he orders and I follow. Both walking at pace to his bedroom. I don’t even look around and take in my surroundings before he throws me onto the bed like I weigh nothing.
We tear at each other’s clothes, removing them in an uncoordinated mess until we are naked on top of the covers. The fabric feels cold against my overheated skin. Carlos is a fucking vision naked, his tanned skin is so smooth, like a jar of honey I want to lick up. Even naked he looks elegant, a toned swimmer’s build with sexy ab definition. His necklaces shine in the street lights that light up the room. A beautiful thick cock with trimmed hair, he lays on top of me and my hands trace down his strong back until they reach his firm ass. I grab onto each cheek, squeezing as he rolls his hips into mine.
Our hard cocks rub together, burning with the need for friction, like two beacons of heat that need to touch. Needing to fuck. Needing to get off. His hips thrust faster and rougher, my legs open to allow him more space. I’m a mess. This is all I want, it’s all I think about. Him on top of me, taking me how he wants, demanding and lethal with hunger.
We stop for a moment and I groan in frustration. Carlos looks at me with an intensity that's terrifying and consuming. His brown eyes are dilated and his breathing ragged, he actually looks annoyed. Before I can say anything he jumps off the bed and grabs one of the discarded belts off the floor, I’m not sure if it's his or mine. When he returns to the bed, he straddles my chest with his legs encasing me either side. His cock bounces close to my mouth and I instinctively swipe my tongue over the tip. I’m so focused on his cock, that it takes a second to realize he is tying my hands together with the belt.
“What the hell are you doing?” I say, trying to wiggle my hands free which is hard to do when his entire body is pushing my chest into the bed.
