Muerte Con Carne Read Free

by the tip, and yanked it off. “Ah, shit.” The condom emptied its soupy contents, spilling over his thighs and testicles, soaking into the sheets. He shot a stupid grin her way, but she didn’t return it.
    If those were my sheets, I’d kick your ass.
    She knew she was being a bitch, knew she was being unnecessarily cold toward him. But she couldn’t help how she felt. What pissed her off the most was how much he liked her. Probably loved her. She didn’t know why that angered her so much, but it did. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before he expressed his feelings, before he told her that their current arrangement wasn’t enough for him. And then she would leave. Just like always.
    As he jumped out of bed and strolled toward his hamper for a towel, she stood, pulled her panties on, all the while hiding her breasts with her forearm. She plucked her bra from the floor, turned her back to him while she put it on. He continued to chuckle from behind her, an obnoxious little boy giggle.
    She sat on the bed, started pulling her jeans on. She glanced at Felix and he was watching her, obviously confused as to what she was doing. Part of her wanted to stay, peel her clothes back off and snuggle up to him, maybe watch some TV while the euphoria of fucking slowly dissolved. Because she did like him. He was a damn good guy, was crazy about her, and always treated her right. Was a good lay, if not a little quick with it.
    “You leaving?” He crossed the room, sat beside her. Still naked, his cock still hard. Marta wished he would at least put some boxers on.
    “I’m tired. ” She cleared her throat, pulled her shirt on, tied her hair up and held it there with a bobby pin she had pulled from her pocket.
    “Well you can just stay here. I can cook you something.” He reached into her lap and grabbed her hand, and though Marta wanted to yank it away, she forced herself not to. “Come on, don’t run off. I’ve got some wine. We can have a few glasses, then maybe get back in bed? I won’t stop til you cum twice, all right?”
    Now she did pull her hand away. “Oh god.” She stood, backed away from him. “I’ll…I’ll call you tomorrow.”
    She walked past the bed and toward the bedroom door. His apartment was small, so she was at the front door in seconds. The place was clean-too clean for a guy. Always smelled like cinnamon. Just as her hand wrapped around the door knob, she realized she had left her keys on his dresser. She sighed, scratched her scalp, and hurried back.
    He sat in the same spot, head hanging. Looked fucking pathetic like that. Another turn off.
    The muscles in his arms rippled as he clutched the mattress, and when she crossed the room toward his dresser, trying to sneak in so he wouldn’t notice her, she heard him mutter something under his breath. She didn’t quite catch it, but heard the word fucking…
    She grabbed her keys and they jangled and he turned to look at her. His frown exploded into a smile at the sight of her, as if he thought she had changed her mind and was going to stay after all, was going to strip back down and climb right back onto his dick…which was still hard.
    “Forgot my keys.” Even Marta had to admit her tone was heartless, way too bitchy even for her own taste. You like him, you fucking idiot. Stop treating him like dog shit. She walked toward him, grabbed him gently by the chin, and kissed him. No tongue, just a soft, gentle kiss. He kissed back, pressed a little too hard, but she pulled away, smiled, fingers still under his chin. “I’m just tired, okay? Don’t freak out on me. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ve got lots to do.”
    His body relaxed and he smiled. “Yeah, it’s cool. Tomorrow then.” He pulled her in, gripping the back of her thighs and massaging them. “Breakfast?”
    She shoved him away by the shoulders, but playfully. “Yeah, sure. But I want donuts. And not that grocery store shit. Real donuts.”
    “Donuts it is.” He lifted