Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

have no idea." My back was to the wall and Tomás moved in close, pressing his crotch against mine, a heavy interest greeting, flush and full. He only came up to my nose, but there was power in his stance, as if I were being pinned in by a Brahman bull. Heat rushed into my dick, and where the hell had that come from?
    He ran a palm up my chest, possessive in a way that should've annoyed me...except it didn't. I swallowed hard. He spread his fingers across my throat, cradled my jaw. My legs went to rubber. No pissed-off squirrel, this one.
    "I watched you. On your board."
    "I wiped out." I snorted, salvaging some dignity. Not for having wiped out, but for this, for the fact that my voice shook, that I'd fallen back into the plaster of the wall, showing my belly. As it were.
    Tomás stroked a knuckle down my sternum and rucked up my shirt. "You were beautiful. Even falling." He slipped warm fingers into the elastic of my board shorts. "Imagine my pleasure to find you here. And to realize your interest."
    He pulled my cock out, thick fingers stroking it up along my abs. No half-mast bullshit; by now I was hard, hot, and aching. He smeared a drop of precum around the crown with his thumb. I bit my lip.
    "You are interested, yes?"
    I gasped out a weak laugh. Was he fucking kidding me? But when I caught his eye, I realized he was serious. A real question. Jesus . "Yeah, motherfucker. Yeah, I'm interested, Christ, you can't tell?"
    He smiled. Gripped me tighter. "Ah. Well, there is the heart and there is the..." He stroked me and I groaned. "...head."
    So yeah. He jacked me off in the alley there. Took no fucking time at all, like I hadn't been laid for a week, but hell, I'd drilled Blondie only that morning. So I dunno. Maybe it was his eyes. Intense, you know? Or maybe his technique, sure. He had this twist, and a way of gripping my dick like he owned it. Or good Christ, yeah, no denying the rush of feeling his strength. One forearm across my chest, holding me still while the other hand felt me up, got me off.
    I came with a yelp. No shit, I yelped. Hurt a little, the way my climax jerked out of me. Then I moaned like a frickin' puppy as I creamed into his hand. On the sand.
    "Delaney!"
    Break over. "Thirty seconds," I called back, hoping they weren't getting slammed too badly. I caught my breath as Tomás licked at his fingers, long and slow. Jesus Christ. "Listen," I said, "I'm sorry, but I gotta—"
    "Mañana," he said. "Yes? You work tomorrow night?"
    I nodded. "Mañana."
    ****
    Chulo's was hellaciously busy on Saturday, though Alex kept up a hell of a lot better. In better spirits, too. Flirting with the customers, flirting with me. In fact, I was beginning to realize that as long as he wasn't stressing, Alex was a flirt all around. Last night seemed to have slapped something free—like he realized he wasn't working at Hyatt anymore and he decided to cut loose. Showed up in cutoffs, disappeared into the back toilets and emerged in a skintight mini, fishnets, and fuck-me pumps. Drag, yeah, except for the loose sequined tank and nipple rings and tousled curls and the kid was all man, just hotter than hell with smudged eyes and darkened lips and long, lean legs.
    Me? Hell. Board shorts and a tee that'd likely come off during the night. Slob.
    Tomás didn't show. I guess I was mildly surprised—he hadn't gotten off, after all, and for that reason alone, I'd figured he'd show up for the payback. Didn't slow me down though—I prefer it this way. Thing is, I know damn well what I am, but it's like there's this stupid little girl that can get woken up sometimes. Hot guy talking smooth, smiles at me while he jacks me off, and I can start forgetting my role in this world. It's wise not to feed that entitled little beast.
    So we poured, shook and blended. Spilled and broke, too, always to cheers. The tips were good; a cool breeze, a good DJ, and some sort of synergy sailed us through the night. Alex got shitloads of attention. Wolf calls and offers across the bar. The good humor was contagious, and led to the bartenders putting on a show. Me stripping my shirt and tugging my shorts low, just shy of popping free. Alex snaking up my legs, tongue along my chest, while I ground out a beat with my hips. Campy shit, you know, and then we were back to doling out liquor. But it got us a nice round of tips.
    Alex took a shine to a goatee'd bear who paid him some attention. 'Round about one Alex was looking fit to be tied, so I waved