Summers' Heat

Chapter 7

"Is there something else you need, chica?" he asks, when she seems a little spaced out.

She blinks and slowly shakes her head yet remains sitting there.
"Makayla?"
"Oh. Um, right. Yeah, I should let you get some rest."
She hesitates in getting up, causing Mateo to latch onto her wrist to prevent her leaving.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," she instantly replies, "I told you I wanted water."
"It's okay to be scared, corazon," he gently reminds her.
When he'd told her he didn't have night terrors or insomnia, it's true but he's had plenty of nightmares and sleepless nights.

"I'm not scared. I'm not good at sleeping in new places is all," she lies.
Her fib is so transparent, Mateo doesn't question or tease her as he might for anything else. He shuffles down but not by a lot and gestures to the space he leaves.
"Get in."

It speaks to her fatigue and fear when she doesn't fight him on it. Instead, she crawls under the covers and lies down, pulling them to her chin.
"And do you sleep better in new places with the lights on or off?" he softly asks.

"Off."


Wordlessly, Mateo reaches over to turn off the lamp. His bare bicep brushes past her chest, his body leaning in close for far too short a moment. Makayla exhales the breath she'd been holding when he settles back onto his side. The strip of space between them feels like a deep chasm. Under the sheets, his body heat has made it toasty yet there's still a chill that runs through Makayla's blood.

She lays there for a while in silence, closing her eyes and willing sleep to show her mercy. It doesn't. Turning her head to face her partner in bed, Makayla can see that he's curled towards her. Long, thick lashes brush his cheeks, those surprisingly full lips parted ever so slightly as all his masculine facial features relax in a way she's rarely witnessed.

So, this is what she was missing last night? Or did he mould her against him? His tall, hard plains pressing against her softer curves, their bodies slotting like two puzzle pieces, reshuffling throughout the night but always in-sync? Did he wake up in the morning with his cock hard and think for just a second to bring her to the same point of arousal so they could sate their desires together?

Her legs shift against one another, inner thighs squeezing to suppress the beat of her pussy. Damn, what a time for that particular instinct to be rearing its head. She's had plenty of practice in her everyday life practicing self-restraint and yet this time, she can't fight the desire to shuffle closer towards Mateo. Cautiously, Makayla turns to face the opposite direction and wiggles herself backwards so curve her body against his chest. She'd been expecting that her shuffling would likely cause 'events' to occur in his pants but not for the party to already have begun.

Mateo swears he only closed his eyes for a moment, enough time to try ignore the erection he's sporting embarrassingly from only a glance at his guest's legs. God, he's getting too old to be gaining such quick hard-ons but then again, Makayla is a damn fine woman. It doesn't matter to his penis she's suffered a terrible trauma and violation, the bastard only cares that she looks and likely feels incredible. It's a good thing the couch has enough room for them both to be able to sleep without touching. Or at least he thought so.

He can't help the guttural groan from his throat that is projected at her soft, generous ass hits his hard dick. It doesn't matter that there's one or two layers of clothing between them, the feminine strength and curves of her body are a siren call to him.

"Oops, sorry," she mutters, not at all sounding sincere. She even has the audacity to wiggle her ass against him again.
He's not sure whether to laugh, roll into her or find an ounce of strength to resist her.