Page 86 of A Coffee Away

I squeezed his hand. “I love it here.”

We walked to a quiet spot. I faced him, then threw my shoes in the sand. He smiled and did the same.

He grasped the side of my neck and traced his thumb over my mouth, pushing it slightly in. I swiped it with my tongue, circling the tip as I would his thick shaft.

Esteban shoved his thumb inside. His chest rose. His eyes darkened, and I, with a hunger that was deeply rooted inside me, sucked it hard. A grunt escaped him, then his mouth was on me. His tongue, ever dominating, met mine, and I imagined it inside me, preparing me to take all of him.

I trembled at the image and gripped the back of his head to pull him closer. I opened to him and let him take over the way only he knew how to.

My hard cock strained between us. “Fuck.” I groaned.

Esteban chuckled. “Fuck indeed.” He closed his eyes and let his temple touch mine. “God, I missed you.”

He opened his eyes and straightened. “You know. Since Thursday.”I smiled, covering his cheek with my palm. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to hide anymore.”

Esteban widened his eyes, tilting his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

I grinned. “I painted you last night.”

He stiffened.

I went on my tiptoes and kissed him. “I remember you.” I pulled away in time to see his eyes glaze. “Last night, I painted you again and again. Your smiling face. Us scooting around Old San Juan. Lounging on our sofa. Watching movies. I painted our sunsets. Your body against mine. I remembered everything.”

A sob escaped him, and a tear slipped down his cheek. He slid his arms around me and held me close. “I missed you, babe.”

I giggled as my feet left the ground. “I missed you too.”

When he put me down, he kissed my hand fervently, then tugged at my hair and angled my head so I was fully at his mercy. Then he kissed me, really kissed me, as if we were alone in the world.

I could taste his tears as they mingled with mine.

“Let’s go.” It was not a request but a command.

My whole body shivered in anticipation.

He helped me put my shoes on, then his own and, without saying a word, took me to our apartment. No words were exchanged as we rode the elevator to the tenth floor, and he retrieved his keys. The pride flag I’d painted on a canvas hung on the door, welcoming our guests.

He led me inside, and my whole world came crashing in.

My paintings were hung around the house like a gallery, ones Esteban could have sold but kept instead.

A tripod with the Maunabo painting rested next to our window. My art supplies were scattered just as I’d left them.

A tear escaped me when I saw the photo behind our black sofa—a picture taken by Raúl on our engagement. There were countless pictures around the house, each guarding a precious memory.

Then it came back, the night of the accident. A night I still hadn’t remembered.

I recalled everything. The ring. The margarita. The giddiness and the way my heart raced as I imagined Esteban’s face when I asked him to marry me too. I wanted it to be special. I wanted to surprise him.

My pulse became erratic when I remembered Esteban screaming on the opposite sidewalk. The car blazing through the streets. The impact. Then nothing.

I clutched my chest. The memory hit me like a train, and I doubled over. My hands trembled aggressively, and when I came to, his blue eyes were level with mine.

His gaze turned tender, and he led me to the sofa. “Love, are you all right?”

“I lost you. Just now it all came back…the accident. I remembered your face when you screamed my name.” The lump in my throat threatened to drown me in sorrow. “God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot you. I’m sorry you’ve been alone for so long.”

He raked my hair back and hugged me close, stroking my back lovingly. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It was my fault. I should have gone with you. I should have stopped it.”