Page 179 of Raspados & Regret

I stand, and he looks at me, breathing hard, mouth open, face flushed. I grab his jaw and kiss him. He tastes himself on my tongue and moans into it, hands coming down from the door to fist in my shirt.

Then his body rocks against mine, hard and needy. I feel him bare against me through my Dickies, and something in my head snaps clean in half.

“Bedroom,” he whimpers.

“No.”

His eyes widen and I hook my hands under his thighs and lift. He wraps around me automatically and his back hits the door again, harder this time, and the frame rattles.

“Nene—”

He clutches my shoulders, breathing all shallow. “Yeah?”

“I need to be inside you now.”

The words rip out of me with no patience left.

His pupils blow wide. “Then do it.”

“Elías.”

“Do it,” he says again, his voice rougher. “Right here.”

My whole body goes hot.

For one second, I think about the logistics. Then I stop because thinking has never served me well around Elías Cárdenas. I hold him up with one arm and shove my pants open with the other. It is clumsy. Desperate, and he laughs once against my mouth, then the laugh turns into a gasp when I press my hips forward.

“You’re gonna drop me,” he breathes.

“I’m not.”

“You sure?” He trembles a little, and I feel it in my hands.

“I’ve carried engines heavier than you.”

His mouth falls open. “That was almost sweet.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He kisses me hard, and I reach blindly toward the little entry table, knocking my keys to the floor before my fingers find the lube I absolutely did not leave there for emergencies.

Except I did.

Because I am disgusting.

And practical.

He sees it and laughs breathlessly. “For shame, keeping lube by the door now?”

“You wore yellow shorts.”

“So this is my fault?”

“Yes.” I slick my fingers fast, too impatient, but he grabs my wrist.

“Hey.”

I stop immediately.