Come What May

Me: Brunch?

Simon: Fuck off. Men can brunch, too.

Me: Sure. Why not?

Simon: Invite your brother, too, if you want.

Simon sends me the address and I forward it to Arrón, along with the time. He’s smart; he’ll figure out what I’m getting at.

Since I have a good three hours before… brunch… I decide to skip breakfast make the most of my time by mowing the lawn instead.

I throw on a pair of old jeans, a T-shirt, and boots and get to work. The entire time I work, my mind is on a certain stunning brunette and all of the firsts I promised her.

Two hours later, I’m a sweating—and slightly turned on—mess. I may have spent more time fantasizing than I did working, but the grass is cut and I have just enough time to shower before heading out.

I strip out of my grass-covered clothes and start the shower. At the first sign of steam, I pull back the curtain, step over the side of the tub, and stand under the stream of scorching water.

My mind is still on Seraphine as I lather up and scrub the sweat and grass from my skin. The memory of her soft, pleasure-filled moans fills my ears.

I squeeze my cock tightly in my fist, imagining it’s her tight, virgin pussy instead. The thought of being the first—the only—man to touch her is almost too much.

Slowly, I jack myself, twisting my wrist on every downstroke.

In my mind, Seraphine begs. “Harder, Mateo, fuck me harder.”

My hips buck forward as I fuck into my hand, all too willing to give in to her pleading cries.

“Fill me with your come. Oh, God, Mateo, yes!”

The idea of her begging me to come inside of her is enough to make me blow my load. I lean into the shower wall, propping myself up with one arm against the cool tile with the only thing on my mind as my release circles the drain—I can’t wait until I can make that little fantasy a reality.* * *The place Simon told me to meet him at is a little shack of a BBQ joint in the next town over. I’ve never eaten at the place, much less heard of it, but judging by the jam-packed parking lot, I’m the only one.

I park my truck in the runoff lot across the street and hop out. The tantalizing smell of pecan wood and smoke practically reels me straight to the door like a fish on the line.

Inside, the mouthwatering aroma is even stronger. “Hey there, sweets, you got a reservation?”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

The hostess twirls a strand of her bottle-blonde hair around her finger. “Is she here already?”

“He,” I correct, scanning the small space for Simon. “And yeah, I see him.”

I slide past her without another word, and head for Simon. Cash, Drake, and my brother are here with him.

“Mateo.” Simon stands as I approach. “Glad you could make it, man.” We do the back-slap-man-hug thing.

The other guys quickly greet me and our server swings by and grabs my drink order.

“Y’all come here often?” I ask, reading over the paper menu.

“Once a month,” Drake tells me. “Try the brisket.”

Cash shakes his head. “Man, fuck the brisket. Get the pork.”

“You’re both wrong,” Simon says. “The burnt ends are where it’s at.”

I exchange a glance with my brother, knowing we’re both going to get the potato cakes with runny eggs and burnt ends.

Once our orders are placed, my brother knocks his knee into mine under the table. “How’d last night go?”

All three of the other men turn to look at me. “Big plans last night?” Simon asks.

“He had a date,” Arrón tells them. “With Seraphine.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to check on her.”

Shit. My heart thunders in my chest. “It, uh… it just happened, you know?” The thought of losing him as a friend sucks, but Seraphine’s worth any bridge I might burn. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Like I didn’t already know.” He narrows his eyes and glares at me before grinning. “But I’m glad it’s you. Magnolia thinks you’re good for her. And if my Goldilocks approves, I do, too.”

“That means a lot to me.”

“But if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” He jabs his plastic spork my way as he speaks. It’s probably not as threatening as a knife would be, but he gets his point across.

“Back to last night though,” my brother urges. He’s probably dying to know since I recruited him to help me set everything up at the shop.

“It was… perfect. Better than perfect…” My words fall away as doubt presses against my newfound contentedness.

“I feel like there’s a but,” Cash says.

“I mean, shit.” It is a struggle to compose my thoughts into intelligible words. “I didn’t plan on her, you know? She kind of blindsided me. I’ve only taken her on one date and—” My words die in my throat.