And then I let Gordo whisk me home. Maybe I should have stayed for the others, but sitting in the hot seat had taken a lot out of me.
Like he had for weeks after the accident, Gordo simply pulled into his driveway. “Giuliana is spending the night with Mason and Dana,” he said casually, but I felt a tightening in my groin.
“Okay. Should we go to my place? Which is probably covered in cobwebs and b-bugs?” I asked.
Gordo just laughed, a deep belly laugh that had been coming more frequently as I healed and got better. It was music. “Yeah, right. I already have dinner stuff ready here. Do you really want to look in your refrigerator now?”
Seeing as it had been way too long since I’d been in my kitchen, I shook my head and followed him into his house.
Dinner was simple and delicious. Salmon en croute, asparagus, and red wine. Gordo stabbed at his fish, shoving it around his plate, until I sat back and pinned him with a look. “What?”
He glanced sheepishly at me. “I want you to move in.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I b-basically have. But… d-do you really want that? For me to put my house on the market? Because I will, if you do.”
His brown eyes glowed with delight and longing. “I do. I want you here, all the time. I want to wake up with you every morning. I want you to help raise Giuliana. I love you, Javi, and you belong to this family.”
“Okay,” I said, knowing it was completely insufficient, but I didn’t think I could speak if I wanted to. The love I felt… He’d said I belonged to the family. I had… I had a family now.
The look on Gordo’s face shifted from delight to hunger. A similar desire mirrored itself in me. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said. “I want you for dessert.”
Mute and wobbly with desire, I followed him up the stairs. Gordo started a shower and began to strip me. His fingers traced and scored my skin with each piece of clothing, his touch alternating soft and sharp until my skin was humming in anticipation.
We got in and the water was hot, the steam filling my eyes and my lungs. It made it feel otherworldly. Especially when his mouth found mine. Gordo’s kiss was demanding, his tongue in my mouth, licking and tasting me until I was panting. Our cocks, hard as steel, touched as our bodies together and I groaned from the sensation.
With care, and to my dismay, Gordo pushed away then. “Touch yourself but do not come.”
My hand gripped my cock and I stroked myself, unsure if I would be able to keep from climaxing. Gordo began to wash me. His fingers scrubbed in luxurious circles on my scalp as he shampooed my hair. I had to still my hand at the base of my cock at that, eyes squeezed shut.
He poured body wash on me and rubbed with his hands, creating friction between the slickness of the wash and the rough pads of his fingers and palms. The smells of pine and musk filled the steamy air, a scent I identified with Gordo, now surrounding me, enveloping me. It was heady. As he rinsed me off, Gordo licked and bit my nipples until I was gasping and my balls were tight, threatening to end it all.
“I can’t hold off,” I begged.
“Let go, then. Turn around, bend at your waist, and put your hands on the wall.”
Oh, God, he was going to fuck me in the shower. I swam in the need of it, wanting to drown in him, the weight of him, the stretch and fullness that Gordo always gave me. So I obeyed, sticking my ass out for him, braced on the wall.
“Close your eyes,” he said. I did.
He spread my cheeks. Instead of the blunt tip of his cock, though, my hole was met by his tongue.
“Oh, fuck!” I called out, jerking. He slapped my ass.
“Be still.”
I tried to be still. I tried not to buck and twist as his tongue teased and probed my hole. The water shut off while he was licking me, and he pushed his tongue in, penetrating me until I was crying for him and slapping the wall, needing more, more, more.
When I was feverish with want, so turned on that everything ached with need, Gordo rose behind me. He reached out of the shower and grabbed a bottle of