“Someone different who threatened their hockey program.”
“If that hockey program was in danger, that was due to Glenn Rabideau—and me. Are you going to send your kids after us next?” Donald had difficulty speaking clearly, he was so angry. “I know you’re not going to bother Glenn, so I guess I need to watch my back.”
A rumble of protest started, but Donald cut it off.
“I am going to recommend that all six boys be suspended for the remainder of the academic year. Whether that recommendation is put into place or not is up to the discretion of the school board, as you well know. But I urge you to take it.” He eyed each father in turn, forcing them to meet his eyes. “A stiff academic penalty may mitigate the charges the boys are facing in court. Maybe.”
“I can’t believe them,” Donald said. Luisa was leaning against him on the couch. “I’ve known them all my life, and never in a million years would I have expected this reaction out of them.”
“They’re defending their children.” Her words were soft, almost conciliatory. “You never know what you’re capable of until you believe your child is in danger.”
“I guess.” Donald shook his head. “But what about personal responsibility? What about doing what’s right?”
Luisa turned toward Donald, sliding her arms up around his neck. “You are such an idealist. Do you know what we call such men in my country?”
“No,” Donald whispered, lips inches from hers. “What?”
“We call them dead men.”
Her kiss was magical, warm and melting under his mouth. Her mouth tasted of strong coffee and stronger spices. Donald drowned in it, reeling in the taste of her, the s
cent of her, the silky tumbling ebony length of her hair curling round his hand.
“Jesus, Luisa,” he whispered. “Should we be doing this? Are you okay with…” Words trailed away as he stared at her lush, full lips, the need to taste them again thudding loud inside his skull.
“There will be sorrow enough tomorrow,” she replied, running her fingertips over Donald’s cheek. “Let us grab joy where we may.”
And with that, she was on him. The buttons on his shirt parted at her touch, and she slid it off his shoulders. She pulled off her blouse, its silk fluttering to the ground without a sound, revealing perfect round, bulging breasts, barely contained in a black bra.
He cupped one in his hand, marveling at the firm weight of it, the way the thumb-thick nub of a nipple stiffened against his palm.
“Mmmm, Don…,” she moaned, encouraging further exploration by letting her bra strap slip further down her shoulder, revealing dark raisin-colored areolas capped with even darker nipples.
The sight was so foreign, so exotic, so real, that it sent a jolt directly to his cock. He stared, transfixed for a moment, and then lowered his head to suckle at the tempting treat, flicking his tongue over and around the sensitive spot.
Luisa replied with a string of words he didn’t understand, and some physical actions he did. Gentle pressure directed his head from one breast to the other, then down the soft plane of her belly until he reached her waistband.
She looked down at him and smiled. “I’m not sure if American men do this the same…”
He tugged her zipper down. “Let’s find out.” Her jeans and black panties fell easily down her slender hips.
Experience had led Donald to expect a thicket of curls, heady and rich with musk. Instead, he got a smooth, shaved mound, topped with a trimmed thatch of close-cropped black hairs, shaped into a narrow band.
Just below, dusky pink lips held the first drops of arousal, glistening and tempting.
The first touch of Donald’s tongue had Luisa writhing, moaning louder with each lick. With growing confidence, he got bolder, plowing his tongue along well-oiled folds, stopping to slurp from her molten core every few minutes.
Long, caramel-colored legs folded round his head, pillowing his ears between surprisingly strong thighs.
He pointed his tongue, like a miniature cock, thrusting deeper and deeper inside her. His nose rubbing against her clit made Luisa shudder.
“¡Madre de Dios!” she gasped, squeezing his head tight as she climaxed. Donald held on, staying in place and licking until her passion passed.
Then she fell back on the couch, letting her legs fall limp. The sudden return of oxygen was almost as welcome as the sight of her blissful smile.
He was so hard that his cock was slapping against his stomach, something that hadn’t happened since he was a teenager.
“Can I?” he asked, panting with need. Drops of sweat were plummeting from his forehead, puddling just above her belly button.