Love in La Terraza (13 page)

“Sweetie, it’s not the girl’s fault that her father is a swine,” Tracy said, passing Dad the roast beef.

“Poor, sweet Emily,” Momma Jean said, sighing and already in distress.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, directing a scowl at Cain. “Now, I’m the bad guy.”

“She’s an odd one.” Henry was still mildly scarred from his initial meeting with her. “Very excitable.”

Cain tried not to laugh, while not allowing Charlie’s indignation to bug him in the least. “It is unfair that she’s constantly judged and shunned by so many people for things she’s never done.”

“Christ almighty,” Charlie said, “one would think people threw garbage and hissed at the girl the way you’re going on about her.”

“That’s enough, the both of you,” Tracy said when she noticed Cain opening his mouth to offer a response. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, acting this way in front of company.”

“The Good Lord knows we’ve been waiting long enough for the two of you to settle down.” Momma Jean smiled at Henry as if he were the best thing since sliced bread. “We’d certainly like Henry to come back.”

“Don’t you worry, ma’am.” Henry winked. “It’d take a lot more than that to run me off.”

“You are the first boy either of them has brought home to meet us,” Tracy informed him.

Cain laughed when Charlie muttered, “There’s a reason for that.”

“Does he get a plaque or a sash?” Cain asked.

“You shush it,” Momma Jean said.

“Don’t you two start henpecking those boys!” Paul yelled, causing everyone to jump and nearly startle out of their seats.

Mamma Jean and Aunt Tracy both muttered curses to one another, Dad’s screaming having apparently taken its toll on their nerves.

“‘Bout time you did
something
first,” Charlie said, staring daggers at Cain.

“It does make one wonder about you, General Slutmeister,” Cain fired back at Charlie. “First out the gate, yet still the last haggard mare left wandering the fields looking for trade.”

Henry choked on his food, covering his mouth in attempt to not spew his green beans across the table.

“I don’t understand why you two boys fight so much,” Tracy said.

“They used to be the best of friends when they were little,” Mamma Jean added, as if attempting to reassure Henry they weren’t completely rotten children.

Cain offered no explanations and neither did Charlie.

“Stop trying to make those boys eat those damn beets!” Paul screamed.

“There are no beets!” Mamma Jean screamed, muttering a quick prayer for patience. “One time I brought home beets.”

“Over a month ago, mind you,” Tracy chimed in.

Mamma Jean scoffed. “You’d think I’ve been forcing them down his throat for years.”

Henry was trying not to laugh, poor guy, and it was contagious, quickly spreading around the table.

“What’s so damn funny?” Paul asked, looking irritable that everyone was having a laugh and he’d been left out. “I’m not hearing so well today. You need to speak up!”

Cain rolled his eyes and reached over to pat his father on the shoulder. He’d laid the groundwork for his evil plan to force Charlie into doing Emily’s flowers, so now he could sit back and relax for the rest of the evening. He tried with all his might to not seem too prideful about the fuss his mother and aunt continued to make over Henry, but for once, it was nice to have something in his life as the focus of the family.

It was almost always
Charlie did this
or
Charlie accomplished that
—one would think he walked on friggin’ water. There was a hint of guilt laced within his enjoyment, but Cain cut himself some slack considering the source of all that fuss was Henry, who was so generous and genuine with his attention, that Cain believed it well deserved.

For all the crap now raining down upon him with regard to La Terraza, Cain felt incredibly blessed to have Henry, who truly helped provide some shelter from the storm. He hadn’t given up on his home just yet, though he realized his time for fighting was nearing an end.

* * * *

They’d barely made it inside Henry’s car before Cain’s cell started ringing. He cursed, trying to get his seatbelt on while fumbling with his phone.

He leaned back when Henry swatted his hands away, leaning over him to buckle the belt for him. Cain spied Emily’s name on the screen, announcing it was she who was so rudely calling. He punched the green accept button, giving Henry a quick peck on the lips as he settled back into the driver’s seat.

“Please tell me you have
good
news!” Emily demanded.

“I’m really sorry, Em, but Charlie
really
hates your father. We’re talking the loathing kind of hatred. He got all scary looking when I brought it up and still refuses to touch one penny of your dad’s money, calling him a gay-hater. And believe me when I say Charlie
really
loves his principles.”

“
Really
?” Henry asked, making fun of the way Cain said the word.

“Why does everyone hate Daddy?” Emily growled, sounding more like an angry Chihuahua than a killer Cujo.

“Because he’s like Darth-Vader ruthless,” Cain said, squinting all evil-like at Henry.

“I don’t understand what that means?” Emily asked, sounding genuinely clueless. She’d never been great with names that weren’t sewn onto a label.

“Your father is a fucking asshole of monolithic proportions, who runs over anyone and everyone to get what he wants.” Cain shrugged seeing the disapproval written all over Henry’s face when he glanced Cain’s direction as they backed out of his parent’s driveway.

“But he’s always so sweet, like a teddy bear?” Emily huffed, and Cain could tell she was getting pissier.

“He’s like that with you, darling. To the rest of the world, he’s a great, big meanie-butt.”

“Charlie doesn’t have a right to take that out on me!” Emily squealed. “Fine, he wants to be that way? Perhaps I’ll just contact Eduardo directly.”

“You could try, but from the way Charlie tells it, Eduardo hates your father even more, Em.” Cain pulled the phone away from his ear when she began shrieking.

Henry’s eyes widened, one brow arching up in disbelief as he steered the car around a sharp curve.

Cain was counting down, “Three, two, one…”

And just like turning off a switch, the phone went silent.

Cain put it back up to his ear, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary and continued on. “The good news is neither of them appears to have any issues with you personally, well aside from Charlie calling you a ridiculous individual, but he says the same thing about me, mind you.”

“Your use of the words,
good news
leads me to believe you have a plan?” Emily asked, now as cool and calm as could be, post tantrum.

“It’s just an idea, and I’m not sure it will work, but you could go down there in person and offer to purchase the flowers wholesale directly and have them shipped to the store,” Cain said, pointing for Henry to make a right. “Then you could offer to take whatever fee they would have charged you to do the flowers and offer to give that to a charity of their choosing. That way—”

“They aren’t taking Daddy’s money. You’re brilliant!”

Cain started laughing after Emily began happy-shrieking. While every bit as annoying as tantrum-shrieking, there was no danger to anyone’s eardrums. “It will also be tougher for either of them to decline, knowing the money would be going to charity. Makes them look a little petty if nothing else.”

“I love you, Cain!” Emily had downgraded to giggling now. “Will you come with me? I want you there to see Charlie’s face.”

“Bullshit. You want me there because you know Charlie will be less comfortable saying no when he knows it’ll get back to his mother.”

“We’ll make an afternoon of it,” Emily said. “Lunch and mannie-peddie’s? My treat?”

“Well now, you know I can’t say no.” He heard her clapping.

“I’ll call this weekend to pick a date.”

“For lunch?” Cain asked. “You have to schedule me?”

“I’m a very busy girl, C! Love your bits…laterz!”

He flinched, hearing the call disconnect. “I totally hate being a grown up. Scheduling stuff sucks.”

Chapter Seven

Cain sucked Henry’s cock with full abandon, sweat pouring off the both of them. Every muscle in Henry’s body strained to prevent the orgasm that now raced toward a climax. He muttered curses and praises under his breath, having to remind himself not to touch.

Cain had mentioned that he didn’t believe Henry was capable of lying back and allowing Cain to take control, that doing so wasn’t in his nature. At the time, Henry had thought it would be the easiest bet he ever won, but now, he wasn’t so sure Cain was wrong.

Cain had worked over Henry’s entire body with his mouth and watching the man suck him off in that particular moment had him tied in knots. It took everything he had not to push Cain off, bend his ass over and fuck him within an inch of his life.

Henry’s nipples were raw from teeth and tongue, his ass still wet with spit from Cain rimming his hole, and Henry felt like a live wire as a result. All he wanted to do when he got this turned on was fuck some ass—Cain’s ass to be exact.

It was what had him fighting so hard to not come.

Cain tugged on Henry’s nuts and slipped a finger in his ass as he sucked Henry all the way to the root, pushing him over the edge. Henry let out a howl as he unloaded down the back of Cain’s throat, loving the way Cain moaned, as if the taste of Henry’s seed were the most satisfying thing that had ever passed over the man’s lips.

He almost came again when Cain sat up, that sly, cock-teasing smile spreading those red, swollen lips and the hair around his face wet with sweat. He looked so pleased with himself one would’ve thought he’d been the one who’d just been serviced.

“That was fucking hot,” Cain said, a low laugh escaping him.

“Christ, boy, I would tear up that ass of yours right now if you hadn’t just sucked me dry.”

“Oh yeah?” Cain repositioned himself, straddling Henry, who was still breathless. “Exactly what would you do to me?”

Henry was momentarily speechless, watching Cain start to jack himself off and fairly certain he’d never witnessed anything sexier.

Snapping out of his haze, Henry propped himself up on one arm, slipping his free hand under Cain’s open legs and working two fingers inside his hole.

“I’d bend you over this bed and slap that pale white ass of yours with the palm of my hand until it was nice and bright pink,” Henry said, fingering Cain deeper as he moaned his approval. “You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes…I believe I would,” Cain said, barely more than a whisper as he started to ride Henry’s hand, attempting to take more.

“Once I had you so hot you were panting and pleading for my dick, I’d spread that ass open and feed you my full length in one, long—”

Cain’s scream cut him off as he blew his wad so hard it made an audible splat as hit Henry across the chin and chest.

Henry was now the one grinning as Cain muttered and moaned all sorts of delicious invitations of depravity, riding Henry’s fingers until he’d emptied his nuts.

Cain fell onto his side, sprawling out like a wet doll that’d been used and abused. He smiled upon opening his eyes to find Henry covered in his semen. “Damn, you look good.”

Henry laughed. “I should be pissed. Barely got my imaginary cock in your ass before you busted a nut.”

Cain tried to laugh, not quite able to pull it off due to a lack of oxygen. “There’s something about the way you sound when you talk nasty to me that I
really
seem to enjoy.”

Henry got off the bed and went into the bathroom to clean himself off while yelling back at Cain, “Right, ‘cause your warped fondness for rough trade is all my doing.”

“You don’t exactly hate it,” Cain reminded him.

Henry couldn’t hold back his laughter, rinsing out the washcloth after he’d finished wiping down the bucket of cum he’d been hosed down with. “You are correct, sir. I do not mind in the least.”

“Besides,” Cain said as Henry made his way back to bed, “who doesn’t love a man who’s good with his hands?”

Henry grunted, all but falling over himself. They wriggled around the bed to situate themselves, each still too warm to attempt getting under the blankets.

“Both you and your hands are quite helpful.” Cain winked, both men now lying on their sides, facing one another.

Henry cringed, knowing he shouldn’t but feeling as though he needed to bring it up. Over a week had gone by since their dinner with Cain’s parents’, and Henry had been dodging Franklin for most of that week at the office.

“Look, I know how badly you want to handle everything yourself, but I wish you’d let me help you with La Terraza, Cain. I have some money set aside or perhaps I could cosign a loan for you?”

The amusement on Cain’s face was quickly replaced with strain. “Henry, you can’t… I couldn’t let you do that.”