Good Behavior: An MM Forbidden Romance (Wild Heart Ranch Book 2)
Good Behavior: Chapter 24

Despite our dramatic exit, Nacho and I approach the truck quietly. We get in, and I turn on the engine, then reach over to turn off the music, driving in silence to the tiny mobile home park. I have loftier goals in store for him, but I’ve come to appreciate this place that gave him a home and a space to rebuild.

After parking, I quickly make my way around the front end, opening the passenger door for him. He seems surprised by the gesture but goes along with it, grabbing my hand as he exits the truck. Walking up the steps, he opens the door and lets me into his cozy living space. Locking the door behind us, I pull him into a deep, searching kiss.

It’s not as though I’ve done anything to hide my feelings, but the way he returns the kiss, the way his body melts into mine, I know I’m not alone. We part, and I drift my lips across the tip of his nose, then run my cheek against his.

“I love you, Nacho,” I whisper into his ear.

He inhales sharply and l lose myself in the rise and fall of his chest.

Looking up at me with a tear streaking down his cheek, he replies, “I love you too, Bram.”

We fall into the kind of endless kiss that feels like a promise for the future. When we pull apart, it’s only enough to search each other’s eyes for the truths they hold. More tears adorn our faces, which leads to a shared self-conscious chuckling as we wipe each other’s cheeks.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I say, my throat contracting around the words. “You are brilliant and brave and earnest. The way you let me see even the softest parts of you…”

My words drift off in wonderment as I touch the painted teardrop on his cheek.

“You risked your entire career for me,” Nacho responds, carefully tracing my lower lip with his thumb. “Even after our time together. I mean, Charlie’s a chill guy, but I doubt you knew he’d be that chill.”

“As it happens, the fact that I play fast and dirty with some of the rules is a plus in his eyes.”

“Who would’ve guessed that you were the bad boy and I was the one let out for good behavior?”

“You’re gonna use that against me forever, aren’t you?”

“Eh. Just to tease you. You’re exactly the kind of guy Charlie needs.” He pauses, pinching his lower lip with his artful fingers. “Exactly the kind of guy I need too.”

Responding in the only way I can, I undo his work shirt and flip open his belt. Nacho reaches down to untie his boots, pulling them off as I remove his shirt, inhaling deeply at his chest and armpits.

“I love the smell of your sweat,” I say, my voice gravelly with need.

Nacho’s sweat smells vital, somehow, and it makes me think of all the ways he is brave and hardworking and strong.

“That’s nice,” he says, popping his brows, “but we’re not fucking on my expensive sheets like this.”

I respect his love of cleanliness and nice things, but one of these days, I’m going to take him filthy and unprepared, fuck the expensive sheets. Pulling him in for another kiss, I nose his armpit before running my tongue up his sweaty neck.

“It’s a good thing I also like how you smell freshly showered.”

He shoves off the rest of his clothes as I remove mine and follow him to the tiny shower closet. His eyes never leave me, even as he turns on the water. Taking in his perfect body, loving his attention, I stroke my cock. Grinning, he steps into the hallway to plant a kiss on my mouth while knocking away my hand.

Testing the water with one hand, he strokes me with the other, taking me apart in more ways than one. When his wet fingers land on my nipple, delicately teasing and pulling, I declare my love again.

I whimper as he ends the kiss to step into the steaming shower.

“This won’t take long, Dr. Barlowe.”

“Bram,” I say, reaching in to steal his washcloth, anxious to be the one to clean him, serve him. “It’s just Bram tonight.”

He silently acknowledges me, allowing me to wash him, one foot in the shower, one foot in the hall. I’m thorough, especially with his pits and groin, loving the smell of his sweat and soap infusing the steam wafting into the tiny hallway. My eyes never leave his as my cock bobs and drips.

“Turn,” I demand, my voice wavering as he presents his back and ass.

Covering every inch of skin in bubbles, I pull aside one cheek, cleaning him until he moans, pushing back as my fingers replace his hole.

I edge him, stroking his soaped-up cock while stretching him with one, then two fingers.

His breathy “Close,” is everything.

I pull away to curses, then make sure he utters it two more times before I’m done edging him. The aggravation and passion in his eyes make me hate this fucking shower closet. One of these days, we’ll have an enormous shower of our own, and I will have him in every way possible.

Satisfied that I’ve cleaned him good and proper, I pull down the sprayer, rinsing him thoroughly, front and back, spending a little extra time on his hole and foreskin, grinning as he desperately tries to hump the water itself.

Dragging him into the hallway, I switch places with him as I push a clean towel against his chest. I’m quick about soaping up, but meticulous. He’s quick to aid me in washing my cock and balls, a delicious payback for edging him so mercilessly.

It’s a good thing I’m not Dr. Barlowe tonight, or he’d pay for that.

Taking a second to clean up the water in the hallway, we toss the wet towels in the shower and then race to the bedroom. Nacho jumps onto the bed just ahead of me, landing on his side, his cock flopping about as his tattooed body stands out against the pristine white sheets.

I use the steps and crawl over his body to get to his lips, which I take as mine. Suspending my body over his, I deepen the kiss as I sway my hips, letting my cock glance against his.

I hope Nacho’s little gasps against my lips always make my heart race as they do tonight. Drawing back, I need to see his face, his body underneath mine.

“I love you,” he whispers, looking like a dream and a nightmare wrapped in a perfect package, ready and willing to challenge me. Forever, I hope.

“Even if I’m bossy?” I ask, needing reassurance.

“Especially when you’re bossy.”

“Then grab the lube and dock me,” I beg him, breathless.

Licking his lips, he’s lewd in the way he ogles my cock, planning, enjoying my desperation. He reaches beneath his pillow and pulls out a bottle, wiggling it at me before pouring the slick liquid into his palm. Rubbing it onto both hands, he strokes us, one cock per hand, before touching the tips together.

I lift my hips for a better angle, and he is mercifully quick about slipping his foreskin over my leaking cockhead, pushing our slits together as his silken skin glides against mine in an iron grip.

Slick and tight, I nearly falter in my hold as he strokes his skin back and forth. Even as my arms ache from holding myself up, I grit my teeth and endure it, needing this intimacy more than comfort.

I let him go on for a while, like a game to see which of us has the harder time holding back. When I refocus on his face, it’s his grin that catches my eye, like he knows what I’m doing and is determined to win.

Something about this moment, with my arms starting to shake and his eyes rolling back in his head…I don’t just love Nacho. I adore and worship him. I need him more than my next breath.

“Close,” I say, admitting both defeat and victory.

“Good boy,” Nacho purrs with a wink, slowing down the strokes, nearly tipping me over before stopping, entirely too pleased with himself.

I release my arms, sinking onto him, whispering feverishly in his ear, “You are mine, you are mine, you are mine. I love you with every cell in my body. I love you.”

His arms surround me in a fierce hug, pulling me even tighter against his body. Our words only say so much, so we hold this position for several deep breaths, letting our bodies tell each other the rest of the story.

Kissing his forehead, I grab the lube, stroking myself as he widens his legs, scooping his hips. With the flats of my fingertips I push between his cheeks, smoothing the lube across his sensitive skin.

I enter him with two fingers, pleased he’s still slightly stretched from the shower. Notching my cock against him, I slip forward, drinking in his moans, turned on by the tattoos following the curve of his arched neck.

Fully seated, I watch and wait, loving how his body relaxes everywhere for me. Knowing we’re not in any hurry, I take him slow and steady.

“Nacho, look at me,” I ask, wanting—craving—to know I’m as much his as he is mine.

His eyelids flutter, then open to my future. That’s what I see deep in his chocolate eyes. Us, together.

“Always,” he says, his confidence and boldness a reassurance I never knew I always needed.

He wraps his legs around my waist, locking me deep inside his tight heat as he undulates his hips, up and down, side to side, dancing with me, making love back to me. Not just receiving but giving.

Entranced, I begin to move with him, matching the rise and fall and sway of his hips, our eyes fixed on only each other. I see the moment the slow swell of need crests, his pupils expanding in a pool of cinnamon and umber as light from the fading day stripes across his face.

Panting, I thrust harder, faster, as he tightens his legs around me. My orgasm hits as he pulses on my cock, finally breaking eye contact when he throws his head back in rapture. I thrust through the peak, giving him all my power, everything in me as I empty into his body.

Shivering from coming so hard, I fall slack against him, crushing him into the bed below us. He breathes in as I breathe out, both of us needing the length of a song to recover. Amused by the thought, several songs flit through my brain until I land on the one that feels like this.

“Something just made you smile,” he says, groaning as I slip out of him.

I widen his legs, needing to see my cum seep from his body.

Ah. There. Clinging to his stretched-out rim before dribbling over. Reaching into one of the built-in drawers, I pull out one of his work bandannas, old and soft from multiple washings, catching the spill just before it hits the bed.

He nudges me with his thighs. “What made you smile like that?”

My smile broadens, heat touching my cheeks. I thumb his hole, pushing inside him as I stretch for a kiss.

“Thinking of a song,” I mumble.

“Mm? What song?”

I hum a few bars, absentmindedly stroking in and out of him with my thumb.

“That’s k.d. lang,” he says, inhaling sharply when I glance a sensitive area.

I nod, humming as I kiss him.

“Doesn’t she say something about being a Daddy in that song?”

“Not this again,” I groan, entirely faking my displeasure.

“I’m just saying, the lyric is right there.”

“Yes, but there are other lyrics besides that one. Deeper, more meaningful lyrics I now feel stupid about because you’re teasing me.”

He laughs, tightening around my thumb with a sigh. “It’s a good song. Makes me wonder if you’re secretly a massive romantic.”

“Literally no one has called me a romantic before.”

“Have you ever hummed ‘I Confess’ to anyone before? Or is that your move?”

I press farther inside him, getting him to arch off the bed. “Ahhh, fuck you,” he says, his cock reviving.

I lean in, sucking him into my mouth. I go after the trapped bit of brine in his foreskin with my tongue, attacking his slit, the nervy bit of frenulum, sucking on the loose skin until his cock swells, exposing his glans to the rough and smooth sides of my tongue.

More of my cum works past my thumb, dripping down my palm. When he’s fully hard, I pull my mouth away to the musical sound of him cursing in Spanish.

“No,” I say, finally answering him, still slow-fucking him with my thumb. “That is not my move, nor have I ever hummed a romantic song to a lover before.”

“But you have edged people to the point of insanity, right?” he asks, grabbing for his cock before I slap his hand away.

“Of course. But only because it heightened my pleasure. When I edge you, I do it because it heightens your pleasure.”

“Bastard,” he whispers.

“Partner,” I correct.

His eyes fly open. “So…we’re already past boyfriends then?”

“I said I love you, and now I’ve hummed to you in bed. You’re mine. Madly, completely mine. Boyfriend just doesn’t cut it.”

He pants, twisting his hips, trying to get more out of my thumb.

I start to pull away. “Unless you don’t feel the same…”

His glare says it all, but my heart rate speeds up when he uses his words.

“You know I feel the same, pendejo. Now stop teasing me and put me out of my misery.”

A large pearl of precum slips from his slit, dripping down the length of him as his cock bobs. God, I love it when he gets needy for me.

“Please, Dr. Barlowe,” he begs. “Please.”

“Fine, Ignacio. But only because you were such a good boy yesterday.”

“Ah fuck,” he says, his eyes rolling back before I even touch him.

This time, I do not tease as I feed his length into my mouth. I take him to the hilt, swallowing around him before pulling back to suck his swollen head. Switching from my thumb to my two middle fingers, already glazed in my cum, I press inside, crooking them at the height of suction, reveling in his strangled cries.

He pulses strongly against my palm, spilling the very last of his seed on my tongue.

“Fuck, Bram. I love you so much,” he says on a whimper. “I could love you forever.”

“Me too, baby. Me too,” I whisper back. A promise. A vow.

I keep my fingers inside him until his muscles remember how to move. After wiping him down, we again take turns in the ridiculously tiny shower, then fall back into bed, clinging to one another.

Even though the days ahead of us are more dangerous than the ones behind us, sleep comes quickly because we belong to one another.