Page 77 of Mutual Discord

“I’ve thought about you all day. Fantasizing about the ways I wanted to make you come.” Our breaths hitched in tandem when he notched himself at my opening. “But now I want to take it slow. I want to savor every moment of this.”

He thrust inside to the hilt and held himself there, one hand gripping my hip and the other holding my breast. A silent wail held my mouth open, and I dropped my head to his arm. Alex’s heartbeat was erratic against my back, yet he held perfectly still. But soon I couldn’t bear to stay still, not when every instinct in my body urged me to move.

So I did. Clenching my teeth, I swiveled my hips and received a guttural groan as a reward. Encouraged, I quickened my pace, dropping my head forward as pleasure streaked up and down my limbs, fusing in my core. He felt amazing, and I told him as much.

“I love it when you use me to make yourself feel good.” Licking his fingertips, Alex snaked his hand to the juncture between my legs, where he stroked around my clit. “Keep going. I don’t want you to stop until you come all over my cock.”

Oh. God. Reaching back, I gripped his thigh, my nails biting into his skin as I pumped my hips, taking him faster and deeper, the effort leaving me breathless. After several moments, though, Alex thrust forward, surprising a gasp from my lips. Affixing his mouth to the spot just below my ear, he sucked while he continued to move, the smack of his thighs against my own a steady beat in the room.

Once again, my body was primed for release, like a bow pulled too taut. I arched my back into his next thrust, dropping my hand to rub my clit before circling my palm around his cock where he worked it inside me. Like a spark to gasoline, Alex combusted, his teeth sinking into the side of my neck as his body shook. The combination of sensations tipped me over the edge, and my orgasm roared through my blood as I cried out wordlessly, curling in on myself as pleasure erased all thoughts.

I vaguely remembered Alex pulling out and carefully arranging my tired limbs before he left the bed to dispose of the condom, I assumed. Several moments later he returned, turning off the lamp on the bedside table and rejoining me under the covers. Gathering me in his arms, Alex tucked my head under his chin and kissed my temple.

“Good night, love,” he whispered, to me and the moon. And all I could do was smile before I tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Twenty-One

The following week leading up to New Year’s Eve were some of the best days of my life.

They were also filled with the most soul-crushing guilt.

I was lying in bed the morning after Alex arrived, the sheets tangled around my legs and Alex’s arm draped across my waist, when my phone lit up on the nightstand. Pressing the back of my hand to my mouth as I yawned, I picked it up and my lungs seized.

Caitlin: Heeeey! How was your Christmas?

Caitlin: My parents just left. It was nice to see them for the holiday, but I’m so glad they’re gone. And I’m ready to see you!

As carefully as I could, I sat up, tucking the sheet under my arms. Alex rolled away but didn’t awaken, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Staring down at Caitlin’s text, I nibbled on my lip as I debated what to say. I typed and deleted my words, the knot in my throat becoming more and more uncomfortable as I debated.

Sofia: Christmas was great. Javi and Olivia were here and announced they’re expecting a baby! I’m going to be an aunt!

Blinking bubbles appeared immediately.

Caitlin: omg, congratulations! When are they due?

We exchanged several texts about the baby, the kind of tití I would be, and how everyone around us was settling down when Caitlin abruptly changed the subject.

Caitlin: how did Alex get along with your family? I know he already met your parents but it can be intimidating to meet everyone else all at once, especially on Christmas Eve.

My gaze strayed to Alex, who lay on his stomach, his arm wrapped around a pillow. His face was soft in sleep, his long, dark lashes fanned against the crests of his cheeks. Alex was in bed with me, the insides of my thighs sore from having him between them, and his girlfriend was asking me about him. I clenched my eyes closed.

Sofia: The family loved him. My father and Tío Alejandro especially enjoyed telling him about Nochebuena on the island.

Caitlin: Oh good! It’s so important to him to connect with his culture, and I’m so glad you and your family could help him do that.

Shame was a lead weight on my chest. That cultural connection was why Caitlin had encouraged Alex and me to be friends. She had thought I could help him, and I did…before everything between us became so much more than a cultural connection.

Caitlin: Can I still stay with you when I arrive on Wednesday?

Why aren’t you staying with Alex? I considered the words I typed before I slowly deleted them. Maybe Caitlin preferred not to stay with Alex when Camila and her boyfriend would be there? I should just ask…but I couldn’t stomach the idea of even thinking about them being together. The idea of Alex touching her the way he touched me made me want to cry. And break something. Break something while crying.

Instead, I wrote: Of course. I’ll always have a room for you.

After that conversation, it felt as if an invisible clock implanted itself on my shoulders. No one else could hear the steady metronome beat, but I could, and each tick on the clock ratcheted up my anxiety. But I promised myself I would relish the days I had left with Alex, and when Caitlin arrived on New Year’s Day, I would have had my fill of Alex Castillo and be ready to release both him and hopefully the feelings I had for him. For the next five days, I would allow myself a taste of what a relationship between Alex and me could be. If he chose me over Caitlin.

If we could have forever.

True to the promise I made myself, I soaked up every bit of time I could with Alex, like a cactus in a rain shower. We walked to Dulce’s for pan dulces and coffee and relaxed on the patio in the bright winter sunshine. Alex read several of my video scripts, offering suggestions, before he watched me film them with a smile. When I approached him one afternoon on the patio lounger where he was cooling off after doing several miles on my exercise bike, I nervously handed him my laptop with the bones of a pitch I’d put together for Mallory at the WNBA. Alex reviewed the pitch intently, pointing out some areas I could expand upon and praising several portions effusively. In the evenings, we cooked dinner together, with Alex chopping onions, garlic, and other vegetables while I seasoned and sautéed them with chicken and rice. We listened to reggaeton, dancing around the kitchen, content in our cocoon of happiness.