“Der, I want you to come, baby,” I commanded, licking sweat from his neck.
He shuddered under me, freezing for a moment when his orgasm hit. I didn’t stop. I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t. I slammed into him, thrusting hard and fast, as if I were trying to outrun a storm. But it was no use. My release caught up with me, pulling me under with a force that stole my breath. I gasped and held on tight as I came inside him.
I couldn’t move for a solid minute. It didn’t matter how many times we’d done this—and at this point, it had to be in the thousands—it just got better and better. We got better. It felt pretty damn incredible to be so completely in sync with a partner. I knew Derek better than I knew myself some days.
Of course, that worked both ways.
Derek turned in my arms and kissed me, gently setting his hand on my right shoulder. “You need to get this looked at.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him automatically.
“Gabe…”
I held his chin and rubbed my thumb across his bottom lip. “Don’t worry about me. It just happened, and I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow. If it feels like something serious, I’ll see the team doctor. I promise. Come on. We need a shower.”
He frowned and opened his mouth as if to argue. He gave me a wobbly smile instead and inclined his head. “Okay, but then you’re going to put some heat on that shoulder.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Watch the sass, Chadwick.” He spanked my ass, linked his fingers with mine, and tugged me toward the bathroom. “There’s more where that came from.”
“I sure hope so, Vaughn.”
2
Derek
The post-lunch lull at Bonne Terre was a welcome respite after a crazy morning. We’d been busy since six a.m. with a huge catering order, and our coffee and breakfast crowd seemed bigger than normal. It bled into the lunchtime frenzy and made the hours whiz by, but I hadn’t had a chance to regroup or eat anything substantial. Kind of crazy when you worked at a bistro.
I chose a corner table near the kitchen and studied a spreadsheet while I noshed on a niçoise salad and sipped mint iced tea. I glanced up occasionally to check on business even though I knew Drew had everything under control. It was a reflex thing. I couldn’t help it. But Drew was a great manager and we’d put together a fantastic crew of waiters, cooks, and servers I trusted emphatically to be timely, professional, and friendly. Everything was under control.
I stabbed a piece of hard-boiled egg as I surveyed the café. Half the outdoor tables were taken with small parties enjoying a late lunch in the shade on a beautiful June day. Inside, a mother and her two young daughters commandeered the window-seat table and an older couple sat near the pastry counter where a few college-age girls were chatting with Jackson, one of our newer water polo hires.
I caught Drew’s eye and shared a smile and a clandestine eye roll. Girls…and guys were always flirting with Jackson. And yes, I was a happily practically-married man, but let’s be honest, the guy was hot.
Jackson was a typical Cali surfer with a wild mane of blond curls, a sinewy body, and bronzed skin. He was handsome and easy to talk to. Jackson quickly became one of our more popular servers after he replaced Drew’s boyfriend, Liam, when Li quit a couple of months ago to devote his free time to helping Gabe coach before he started grad school in August.
Of course, the second Gabe popped into my mind, my stomach clenched with nerves. Today was the day. THE DAY. All caps. If we hadn’t been so busy, I probably would have paced the floors and stared at my phone waiting for word. So far, nothing.
“No looking at your phone, mijo,” Gabe’s mom chided, setting a plate of cookies in front of me. “He’ll call you when he knows.”
I smiled at Maria Chadwick. Gabe’s mom was a beautiful Mexican woman with dark hair and a kind soul. He definitely had his dad’s height and his square jaw, but Gabe had his mom’s coloring and her pretty hazel eyes. I’d hit the future mother-in-law jackpot with her. She was one of my favorite people and one of my best chefs.
Her expertise was Latin cuisine, which came in handy when I wanted to give a basic farm-to-table dish a little extra flair. She was also an insanely talented baker.
“I know, I know.” I closed my laptop and bit into chewy chocolate goodness. “Mmm, this is good.”
“Gracias.”
“Want to join me?”
“One moment.” She nodded, then set her hand over mine and squeezed it before sitting opposite me, continuing in careful English. “You should not worry, Derek. He is fine.”
“I know, but his shoulder.”