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"I'm coming!" I cry out.
He groans, sucking my pussy, and holds my hips so he can get it all. My body trembles until I’m spent. Sweat drips between my breast and his lips make a smacking sound when he pulls away.
"You taste even better when you come." My body flushes with heat from his words. His lips and chin glisten from my arousal.
His tongue licks his lips. "Eres, Hermosa." He kisses the lips of my pussy. I try to close my thighs, but he stops me. "Ah, ah." He shakes his head. "I've already seen them, and it doesn't bother me. What bothers me is why."
"I haven't…we talked."
"He knows?"
I nod. "Yeah."
I told him the truth. How Santi came into my room one night two months ago because I kept avoiding him. How gutted he felt when he saw me changing the dressing of a cut, but I didn't tell him the part of him kissing my thighs or the way his nose skimmed my slit or how I was lost in the destruction of his gaze. Santi was right. He would destroy me. So I've kept my distance and fell in the embrace of his brother's arms.
Maxim pulls into the parking lot, and I can't get over all the beautiful classic cars lined up. Chevy and Ford classics mostly from the sixties. All with candy paint jobs gleaming under the streetlights. Custom upholstery in different shades of leather and velvet. The hydraulic systems are set high and low.
Maxim rides his low, driving slowly with one arm stretched behind me on the bench seat of his car.
"What do you think?"
"It's gorgeous. The cars and culture all coming together."
"When my dad took me here for the first time. I couldn't believe it. It was like the LA Chicano community migrated to the east of Hillside. Mexican Americans proudly display their cars customized to show their story. It's art.
"It is amazing," I say, looking around at everyone cruising and standing by their cars.
"It is. Bringing it here allows people to see it in a different light. It's not about gangs. It an expression. My uncle Joaquin put me in his car for the first time, and I fell in love. My father gave me this car, and I was whole."
"That's amazing," I say with a smile.
"Do you…like riding with me?"
I look at the tops of his hands gripping the steering wheel with skulls breathing fire and tell him the truth. "You're the first man besides my father I've ridden in one. Yes, Maxim. I like riding with you. Thank you for bringing me here."
He takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. He pulls over, parking in a spot next to the other Kings with their low riders. He raises the windows.
"Elena?"
"Yes, Maxim."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't have to ask. You can kiss me, Maxim. You know I love kissing you."
He turns my face, and his mouth lands on mine in a hot kiss. "I have this thing with your lips," he whispers.
"Do you?" I tease.
"Yeah, both of them."
I smile into the kiss, sliding my hand against his cheek. We kiss and kiss. The noise in the background is a blur and it is only us not caring who sees.
He breaks the kiss and nibbles my ear and he asks," Can I take you out Friday night?"
"Like…on a date?"
"What did you think all the times we went out to eat were?"
