Re: Dinner: Cris/Lou/Sam
He was still wound up from the afternoon, his body remembering the impressiona Sam on his lap with searing detail, and it was like every capillary, every vein insidea the guy was dilated, flushing him, everything surface. Just there. Foam on waves, his skin dark, his fingers itching for her, and just the linea her body—swella tits under that top, her ass on wood, and the skirt shuffed up around yellow—by the window was enough to get him going easy. Even the lilac swilla smoke that escaped from glossed lips was sensual to his punchdrunk mind. He watched Sam squash out the kretek on the sill.—He wasn't too worried 'bout Joey when it came to secondhand smoke, huh? He knew Sam did it usually outta the waya the baby, and, en verdad, if it helped her calm down and it wasn't a needle, he was all for it. As long as she wasn't blowing smoke in Joey's face, he didn't care.—She looked good and he told her so. She was like some heady blossom, a bloom with milky petals and a fragrance sweet as cloves, and he held her right to his nose and breathed her in. The kiss was longing, but Cris laughed when he was rebuffed that lil bit by small hand to his bare shoulder.
"I'm takin' 'em off, yeah." Salsa a thud at the basea his skull, he managed to turn agreement into something defiled and smutty, like maybe he wasn't just talking about the days he ticked off the calendar.—'Cause, see, the guy hadn't jerked himself off after Sam left him with a fucking spectacular hard-on earlier, but it meant his blood sang and boiled, and if she came toward him like a magnet, he was tide to pale moon-pull. He knew they were meant to behave for Lou, but he figured, as long as he kept everything on the outside, he was doing real good. 'Specially when Sam was looking up at him, filth dank in blue-black eyes.—He kinda forgot about Lou for halfa second during the new, bloody-birthed kiss, and he lost himself to it, ready to take what he wanted by the handful.
The knock was loud enough to sound over the music, and Cris groaned against cherry lips, turning away toward the window brief to cool off as brother and sister said hi. He talked quiet to Joey, and she looked up at him with eyes just like his, her expression serious, like she was trying to figure out what it was he was trying to get across.—But, as soon as he was sure he wasn't gonna go poke Lou in the eye with his cock, Cris turned to greet the gringo with a grin. He forgot about his sunglasses 'til they dropped from his head as he limped a lil bit. Ted ran over to sniff 'em. They didn't matter.—Sam was bruising her brother's cheeks and Cris leaned around her, her ass toward him, and he gave the backa Lou's neck a squeeze and the crowna Sam's head a kiss.
"You do look tired. Lil pale, huh?" He was teasing with that, even though it was true. Cris gave Lou a wink, smacked Sam's ass, and went to sit at the table near the kitchen after two lil detours: one to situate Joey in her laundry basket. He kissed the tipsa his fingers and pressed 'em to the baby's dark cheek. And the other to grab the rum from the table near the door.—By the time he ambled to the kitchen area, Sam was already sitting, grinning wide, and he joined her, glad for the taller chairs, 'cause they were easier to sit in.
He let the bottlesa wine distract him and he read their labels with only an inklinga real interest, before he looked over cork at Lou, taking him in with scrutiny. He was looking thin, huh? Thin, wan, like maybe somebody'd gone and sucked all the marrow outta him. Having him come over was the right call, he thought with a nod to himself.—Cris wanted to ask about Daniel, but he was gonna wait 'til they had food on their plates and maybe 'til he got Lou a couple glasses deep.
He cracked the rum open, cheap paper wrapped over the cap. 'Real Jamaican Rum.' He lifted the bottle to his lips for a sip—his mouth was pretty dry and, even in that camiseta, he was feeling a lil more hot than the situation called for. Cris smacked his lips as the glass met the tabletop, his brows together. "Tastes like shit." He grinned, barrio trouble, and took another long pull. "I always wanted an English butler," he told Sam under his breath.