Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (93 page)

“
Sì
…”

I fisted his dick in my hands till he shot white all over his chest.

“You’re the best. I love being with you,” he confessed.

Together, our wet bodies clung as one, hugging each other.

“Do you wanna go shower?” I asked.

“No. Not yet. Let’s just lay here for a minute. I like being in your arms.” There was a romantic side to Diego that I hadn’t anticipated.

Just as we were starting to doze off, my cell phone vibrated with a call from Taddy.

Panicked that she might be back in the hospital, I reached for it and answered, “Taddy, what is it?”

“Blake! I’m so glad I caught you. I have some exciting news to share with you.”

I could hear Leon in the background, sounding all French.

Diego mouthed, “Is everything okay?”

I nodded in his direction then asked her, “What’s the news?”

“Leon asked me to marry him, and I said yes!”

Whoa!

“We’re engaged, Blake. Can you believe it? Isn’t it wonderful? We don’t have a date picked out yet, but I wanted to call and tell you the good news…”

As Taddy went on and on about her newfound mission to be a bride, my hearing sorta deafened. I couldn’t hear much of what she said next. All I kept thinking was…Taddy Brill is engaged to get married to a man who lives in France. My gut told me she was going to drop out of college and move to Europe.

Chapter Eight

Love Me Some Enrique Iglesias!

“Guapo…”

I awoke to Diego between my legs.

“You taste
bueno
.” He sucked on my morning woody.

With a pang, my pulse quickened as I suddenly became more aware of my heartbeat. Smiling down at him, I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure. Fingers tingling with a desire to touch, I knuckled his hairline, encouraging him to continue as my head fell back on the pillows, swirling in ecstasy. I thought about the previous night…

Ahhhmazing!

Well, until Taddy had called with her news about getting engaged, dropping out of college and moving to France. Yikes. Talk about a major buzzkill. If being married and living in Europe was what she wanted, then I’d be happy for her. Shit, was I going to miss her.

However, Lex and Vive weren’t too excited. In utter hysterics, they’d rung shortly after Taddy. I’d promised to meet up with them later in the morning for coffee.

A hot ache grew in my throat as I moaned. Every nerve ending in my body came alive.

His hands fisted at my shaft while his lips—oh, those sweet Latin lips—licked on the head of my cock. Getting it all wet. Getting me harder than I ever imagined.

“Oh, God.”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

Just as I was about to orgasm in Diego’s mouth, the door flew open.

“Miguel!” Diego turned, facing him. All concentration on my oral delights faded.

Fuck.

That sexual heat I’d been experiencing seconds before turned into embarrassment.
Oh, man.
Grabbing the sheet, I covered myself as Diego pulled up his underwear and got to his feet.

“Looks like I’m interrupting something,” Miguel said in a sleepy voice. He put his backpack on his desk.

“
Mierda
. You can say that again,” Diego griped.

“Want me to leave?” His florid, self-satisfied face mocked us.

“No. Stay.” Diego grabbed his robe from the closet. “I have class in an hour. I’m going to take a shower.”

My heart sank hearing that. I wanted more time with the Stone Cold Steve Austin-bodied, Enrique Iglesias-faced, hung-like-a-horse Latin hottie.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to my ear, and said in a husky voice, “
Gracious
for last night. You were
maravilloso
. Take your time leaving. I’ll text you later.”

Slipping him a little bit of tongue, we kissed.

As he closed the bathroom door, I glanced up at Miguel.

Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, facing me. Tall and gorgeous, his gaze narrowed and focused. Miguel had an impressively massive and self-confident presence about him. Damn. It nearly filled up the entire dorm room.

“What?” Totally naked under the sheets, suddenly I felt self-conscious.

“I owe you an apology.” His right eyebrow, black and thick, quirked.

The water from the shower came on. Diego started singing something in Spanish. It was cute. But my attention focused on what Miguel was about to say…

“For what?” Sitting up, I reached for my t-shirt from the nightstand and slipped it on. My pants were on his desk, so I adjusted my erection under the sheets and tried to make it appear like I wasn’t still horny. But I was. Oh, fuck, yes.

“At Glamorama, I thought you and your Manhattanites had taken drugs. On your own accord, anyway.”

“Oh…” My face felt as if it were flushing miserably.

“I didn’t realize you’d been roofied.
Perdón
. I judged you.”

For a second I just sat there, feeling my lips curve into a smile. “Apology accepted. Wait…did Diego tell you we got drugged?”

“No. Just watched it on the news, in the student lounge, while eating my breakfast. They did a story on Glamorama.”

Fury almost choked me as I repeated, “
They
?”

“The Poppy White Show.”

“Shit! She ran the segment? Were our names mentioned?”

He nodded. “She had pictures and video, too. I’m sorry to hear about Taddy.”

“Fucking bitch!” Erection fading, my lips thinned with anger as I asked, “Poppy mentioned Taddy’s miscarriage on air?”

“
Sí
.”

Sensing my nostrils flare, I buried my face in my hands.
This is horrible.

A few seconds passed as we sat in silence. I tried to get a hold on the situation. I’d be seeing the girls for coffee soon enough. I could only imagine their state of mind right about then: drama to the max. Lex, Taddy, and Vive weren’t the easiest to talk off the ledge. And believe you me, we’d been on many cliffs of Hell together.

“So…are you and Diego an item now?” he asked, moving on to more pressing topics.

I didn’t know exactly how to answer that question, so I managed a shrug and replied, “I think so...”

“You two look cute together,” he complimented matter-of-factly.

I paused, taking in the moment. Miguel Santana, the cocky-as-hell artist who never spoke to me in English class, was being nice. I tried to play cool. “Thanks.”

“You sure you know what you’re getting into with Diego?” His eyes shot to the floor.

“What do you mean?” I peered over the bed to see what he was suddenly staring at and saw the rope. “Ohhh…that?”

“Sí,
that
.” Watching me wearily, he walked over to his bed and took a seat.

We faced each other. Him on one bed. Me on the other. He clothed. Me naked.

“Diego and I have fun when we’re together. I like him.” I chose my words carefully. “I think I can handle myself.”

Dark eyes framing a handsome square jaw, he questioned, “Then that means I’ll probably be seeing more of you around, huh?”

“Is that a problem for you?” I asked, wondering where the conversation was going.

“Nope.” Jauntily, he cocked his head to one side and continued, “In fact, I think you and I could become good friends.”

“You do?” I heard my voice go up an octave. His suggestion intrigued me.

“
Sí
. I don’t have many
amigos
in the city.”

“I’d like that.” Then I recalled his earlier comments. “As long as you’re comfortable hanging with a femmy gay.”

He laughed and then leaned forward. “You heard that?”

“Ah-huh. The night you guys brought me here, my body might’ve been unable to move, but my ears were working perfectly fine. You came in loud and clear. I heard every latent-homosexual, internalized homophobic word that came out of your bitter mouth.”

His handsome face turned bright purple. “I deserved that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Looks like I owe you another apology.”

“It sure does...” I yanked the sheet closer to me.

“I’m sorry.” His free hand moved recklessly to his neck. “See, Diego is the only gay friend I have and…I haven’t told my family yet.”

“Are you going to?” I reached for a pillow and placed it over my lap.

“My dad is a Mexican diplomat and works at the United Nations.”

“So…”

“I don’t think it would go over very well.” His voice faded, losing its confident edge.

“There’s only one way to find out. Tell him!” I sassed with encouragement.

“Maybe. One day.” He let out a loud, audible breath as if it pained him to even think about coming out to his family. I couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, not having your own parents know just who you truly were. The mere thought of it froze in my brain.

“Well, anyway, Thor and I will hang out with you. We’ll help bring out the
gay
in you.” I winked at him playfully.

He chuckled. “I’d like that.”

There was a tingling in the pit of my stomach. “Me, too,” I lowered my voice and admitted. I don’t know why but Miguel made me feel warm and fuzzy.

My phone vibrated. The screen flashed: Mom

“I better take this.”

“Sure,” he said as he continued to stare at me intently.

Pushing the ‘talk’ button, I greeted her.

“Blake Morgan the third.” Mom’s voice hardened. “I just saw Poppy’s show. It got picked up on CNN.”

Fuck. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Shit. Damn.

“Oh…is that so? Good for Poppy.” I rolled my eyes in Miguel’s direction as he leaned in even closer.

“How could you lie to your own mother?” Her voice raised in volume. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Your father is coming on Friday morning after your class to pick your butt up. You’re spending the weekend with us. Bring Thor and the girls. We need to talk,” she insisted archly.

“Mother, don’t overreact.”

“I’m not…” Her voice died away as she attempted to clear her throat. She sounded as if she’d been crying. “It’s not just about you getting roofied.”

“What now?”

“Late last night, I got a call from Mrs. Edwards.” She blew her nose.

“What did Thor’s mom have to say?” My heartbeat skyrocketed.

“She told me…” Pausing, her breathing became heavier.

A wave of apprehension swept through me. “Mom.”

She was gasping so loudly into the phone, it sounded as if she was sitting right next to me on the bed. Every hair on my body shot up.

“She said…that Thor had gotten himself infected with…HIV.”

“Yes.” I chewed on my bottom lip for a second before finishing, “He did.”

“Mrs. Edwards is out of her mind with worry and has no one to talk to.”

“I can’t imagine. But why did she call you?”

“She asked me if you two were having…sex.”

A shadow of alarm touched my skin as I felt a prickle of irritation. “With each other?”

“Yes! Do you have HIV, too?”

“Mother!” I cried out with a tinge of exasperation. “Just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we’re automatically going to be sleeping with each other.”

“Answer the damn question. So help me God, Blake.” She sobbed.

“No, Mom. As far I know, I don’t have HIV.” I spouted out the words contemptuously. “And Thor and I are
not
having sex.”

The tan skin on Miguel’s face flashed to white. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. I couldn’t look at him right then.

“Son, you’re a proven liar to me now.” There was an edge to my mother’s voice which I’d never heard before. It shamed me to no end. “Why should I believe you?”

“Mom…” I didn’t know what else to say. Annoyed with myself for lying to her earlier, I had no defense.

“Are you sexually active?” she asked tersely.

“That’s none of your business.” Anger swelled inside of me. I was seeing red. She’d crossed the line.

“Listen, Blake, and you’d better listen to me good, because I’m only going to say this once.”

“Okay…” Uncertain what would come out of her mouth, I braced myself for impact as if I was driving a convertible at a thousand miles an hour, and the only thing in sight ahead of me was a cement brick wall.

“Eighteen years ago, I turned down a job to work at a little computer company called Apple which, by the way, was launching an unknown product at the time they’d coined as Macintosh. Instead, I took a job at the local elementary school teaching kindergarten so I could be home with you.”

Shaking my head, I muttered, “I know...”

“No, you don’t know the half of it. I have invested my life raising you. Thousands of dollars—correction,
hundreds
of thousands of dollars—have gone into your future. Nearly two decades of my life have been devoted to your wellbeing. You. Are. My. Priority.”

“Thank you for reminding me.”

She’d told me this on several occasions. It never got easier to hear. If anything, it made me feel like a piece of garbage for not living up to her expectations. But in my defense, I hadn’t really caused this to happen.
Just like at Avon Porter, I wasn’t to blame then, and I’m not to blame now.
As always, I was guilty by association, but that was okay because I loved my friends. I’d do anything for them. After all, I was what motorcycle-loving Lex Easton once had called a ‘ride or die friend’.

“Dammit. Let me finish.”

“Okay. Okay.” My cheeks started to burn.

“If you
are
sexually active, I want you to use common sense and wear a condom at all times—”

“Of course.” It was a little late to be having the safe sex conversation, but I’d entertain it. We’d had it about a million times already.

“I mean it, Blake. Taddy got herself pregnant and miscarried. Thor now has HIV. Clearly your friends are not using rubbers. If you get sick, I will
not
take care of you, son.”