wrapped into one. Just because he says charming things and looks at me in the way I’ve always dreamed someone would look at me.
Oh, jeez. My heart is squeezing just thinking about it.
I did the right thing.
I know I did.
My job is all I have. It’s not worth the roll in the hay, no matter how amazing Alejo would be in bed. I would get off and then have to deal with seeing him every day at work. What happens when he starts seeing someone? How do I know he’s not already? Would I be able to put my feelings away, where they belong, and not let it compromise my career?
He’s also a hell of a lot younger.
But when it comes to getting fucked, I don’t think that matters.
Okay, maybe a little bit.
Maybe I’d feel like a bit of a dirty, pervy cougar if we had sex.
That said, I grabbed his cock tonight and I didn’t feel dirty over that.
At all.
I mean, not in a bad way.
Fuck.
I’m an absolute wreck by the time Manuel drops me off on my narrow street in La Latina.
I head up to my apartment and close the door.
Flop down on my bed.
Bring out my vibrator.
I take my pants off and spare no time in getting into it. I’m wet in a second with thoughts of Alejo. How his hands would feel skimming down the sides of my body, how his lips would feel on my neck, how he’d kiss me with so much passion and need and want that I’d melt on the spot. I imagine him naked — not hard to do since I’ve seen a lot of him — and how that cock would look, jutting right out of him. I think about that cock sliding into me, the skill of his hips as they rock into my hips.
I’m coming in seconds and moaning his name.
Fuck, I hope I got that out of my system.
I think I woke up the neighbors.
Two weeks pass by like nothing happened.
Okay, that’s not completely true.
Lots has happened.
Real Madrid have played three games since Alejo got injured.
They won the first one. Barely.
They lost the last two. By a lot.
Suffice it to say, they’re a bit on edge.
Meanwhile, Alejo’s knee is coming along, slowly but surely. We’re doing some hydrotherapy, which is helping, but progress seems to be slow and I don’t think Dr. Costa is too happy about that. The threat of surgery is looming over us at any given moment.
But when it comes to Alejo and me, what happened between us has been swept under the rug.
I mean, nothing really happened.
He basically wanted me to fuck him.
I said no.
I may have grabbed his penis in the process.
And that’s that.
Ever since, he’s changed. He’s still quick to smile and is as charming as ever, but the innuendo has stopped and he isn’t hitting on me.
I appreciate that. I really do.
Even if I miss it.
Just a little.
The only thing that has stayed the same is the way he looks at me, especially when he thinks I’m not looking. If I catch him in the act, he’ll look away and become aloof. Pretend it didn’t happen.
But I can’t pretend I don’t see him staring at me like I’m the only thing in his world.
And I don’t want to pretend, either.
“Hey,” I tell him as he walks out of the changing room, a robe wrapped around him.
We’re at the hydrotherapy pools, ready for another session. I haven’t seen him since yesterday and he seems to have evolved into a moody beast since then.
“Hola,” he says, barely looking at me as he drops his robe.
I don’t look away from his body. I never do. It’s just too perfect.
He sits down on the edge of the pool where the steps are and undoes his brace. His knee still looks a little swollen, but other than that, it looks normal.
He gets in the water, and I barely have to instruct him. He does the exercises in the pool using the noodle that I throw in right beside him or up against the handrail.
Later on, I’ll have to get in the water with him, but we’re not quite at that level yet, so I just roll up my pant legs, sit on the edge and stick my bare feet in the water. From here, I have a good vantage point.
“Something wrong?” I ask him as he sits in the pool noodle and uses his abs and arms to stay upright, keeping his feet level with