Page 112 of Offside Angle

Santi doesn’t let me get away with it that easily. “That’s not all.”

I swallow hard, fingers tightening on his waist. My heart is hammering so loud I’m sure he can hear it. I force myself to keep going, even though it feels like I’m peeling my own chest open.

“I’m thinking…” I start, voice rougher now. “I like knowing it’s me.”

Santi’s eyes darken. “What is?”

I take a shaky breath. “Making you feel like this.”

The second the words leave my mouth, Santi groans and suddenly he’s leaning up, mouth hot against my neck. He kisses down to my chest, open-mouthed and hungry, while his hands slide down to grab the backs of my thighs. He pulls me in tighter and grinds up against me.

“Cariño…” he breathes against my skin. “I’ve been hard for the past month thinking about you.”

A breathless laugh escapes me, some of my usual cockiness rushing back in to save me. “You should see a doctor about that.”

Santi suddenly stands up with me still in his arms.

I let out a very undignified sound and immediately cling to him, wrapping my legs tight around his waist and locking my arms around his shoulders with full koala commitment. My brain short-circuits so hard I can barely process what’s happening.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

I’ve never been lifted this way before. I’ve been thrown into boards, checked into the glass, but this? Being picked up and held as if I weigh nothing? My eyes go wide as I stare at him, completely stunned.

Santi stands there in front of the couch without the slightest strain, one arm under my ass and the other wrapped around my back, holding me up despite the fact that I’m built like a hockey player. He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by whatever stupid expression is on my face right now.

“Something to say, guapo?”

“Yeah!” I blurt out. “The fuck you eating??”

Santi actually snorts, warm and surprised, then starts walking toward the bedroom with me wrapped around him and showing absolutely no intention of letting go.

“Your father’s cooking, mostly,” Santi teases, the corner of his mouth lifting as he carries me down the short hallway.

I don’t even have time to come up with a comeback before we’re in his bedroom. He walks straight to the bed and tries to set me down, but I don’t let go. My arms stay locked around his neck and my legs stay tight around his waist, keeping him bent over me.

Santi huffs out a soft laugh against my mouth. “Guapo…” he murmurs, amused.

He slowly reaches behind his own neck, gently prying my arms loose one at a time. I let him, but I keep my legs wrapped around his waist, not quite ready to give up the contact. Once my arms are free, he guides them above my head and presses them into the mattress. His body follows, settling over me as he kisses me again—slower this time, deeper, completely unhurried.

And then it hits me.

I’ve never done this before.

Not this slowly. Not this intentionally. Even the first time I was ever with a girl, it was all rushed hands and nerves and trying to get it over with before someone walked in. No one has ever taken their time with me this way. No one has ever held me down gently and kissed me with absolutely nowhere else they needed to be.

My fingers curl into the sheets above my head as Santi’s mouth moves against mine, and for the first time tonight, I feel something in my chest crack open in a way that has nothing to do with being horny and everything to do with how safe this feels.

Santi pulls back just enough to look at me, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Still with me?” he asks quietly.

I nod, then remember he wants words. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m with you.”

One moment Matteo is right here with me and the next, something in him pulls back. His body is under mine, but his eyes have gone distant again, like he’s somewhere else inside his head.

I slow the kiss and pull back just enough to look at him. “What’s wrong, cariño?”

Matteo blinks up at me, and I already know he’s going to lie before the words even leave his mouth. “Nothing…”

I shift my weight slightly, intertwining our fingers and gently pinning his hands above his head against the mattress. “Matteo.”