I Love You, I Know

"Baby? Want me to pour you some coffee into your travel mug?" you called from the kitchen.

Javier was in the bathroom getting ready for work while you packed his lunch. He hated it.

You didn't care. You refused to let that man survive on nothing but cigarettes and bad coffee.

No answer.

"Javi!"

Still nothing.

You smiled to yourself. Figures. Whenever Javier disappeared into his own head, the rest of the world stopped existing. And ever since you'd come back to Colombia, he'd been doing that more and more.

You walked into the bathroom.

He didn't even notice you. He was leaning over the sink, rinsing his face. After shutting off the faucet, he kept his eyes closed while reaching around for the towel.

You grabbed it before he could. "Looking for this, agent?"

One eye cracked open. "You spying on me?" he mumbled, taking the towel from your hand and drying his face.

"Obviously. It's not like I've got anything better to do."

He snorted quietly before hanging the towel back up.

"I was asking if you wanted coffee for the drive. In a travel mug. You didn't answer, so I figured I'd better check you hadn't drowned while brushing your teeth."

"A travel mug?" he grumbled, already reaching for his tie. "Cariño, I’m not climbing a mountain." He looked exactly like he always did at this stage of getting ready. White dress shirt. A tie you never would've picked but he somehow always managed to like. And boxers. The pants, for reasons you'd never understand, always came last.

"You say the same thing about the lunch I pack you every day." You stepped closer, gently moving his hands aside so you could fix his tie yourself. "And yet you still take it."

If Javier was terrible at one thing, it was tying a tie straight. "Feistl never lets me forget that lunch box," he muttered, letting you take over.

His aftershave hit you first. Then the smell of clean laundry. And underneath both… just Javier. Whatever that smell was.

"Maybe Feistl should remember you're his boss and shut up." You tried to sound casual. Not easy when the man smelled unfairly good. "Oh, and you've got water all over your tie again." You laughed. "Seriously, I'll never understand why you wash your face when you're basically already dressed."

"Don't question my system, cariño." He grinned. "Or the lunch stays here."

"You wouldn't dare. I'll make you take the coffee too."

He groaned dramatically. "Please don't. We've got coffee at the embassy."

"Yeah. Coffee you complain about every single day." You stuck your tongue out before smoothing his tie one last time. "There."

"Thanks," he said quietly. Almost like he still wasn't used to someone taking care of him.

"For fixing your tie? You know I'd always do a better job than you."

"Not just for that."

You looked up at him. Being so much shorter had one very specific advantage. Every time he hugged you, your face ended up against his chest, close enough to hear his heartbeat. Worth every sore neck. Your eyes met his. Brown. Warm. And suddenly your stomach flipped. Jesus. Ovulation really was dangerous. You reached up, brushing a few stubborn strands of hair back off his forehead. "You've been working way too much lately..."

He let out a quiet laugh. You couldn't tell whether he actually found it funny or if he was just exhausted. "Someone's gotta do it." His thumb brushed gently across your bottom lip.

"Mhm..." Your hands wandered down his chest. Over his stomach. Stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. You could already feel him starting to get hard beneath the fabric. "What if..." you murmured. "What if you just... went in a little later today?"

You didn't wait for an answer. Your palm started rubbing him through his boxers. Slow. Firm.

There it was. He was already getting hard. That didn't surprise you. Javier had never exactly been hard to turn on. His body always gave him away.

He leaned down and kissed you. Soft. Warm. His lips still tasted faintly of mint toothpaste. "I can't," he murmured against your mouth. "Crosby's gonna kill me if I'm late." Even so, he made absolutely no move to stop your hand. If anything… he leaned into it.

You smiled against his lips before kissing him properly this time, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

He kissed you back immediately, his tongue finding yours without a second's hesitation.

The bathroom fell quiet except for the wet sound of kissing and the soft little moans slipping from his throat while your hand kept stroking him through the fabric.

God… you loved hearing him moan. Honestly, Javier's moans were one of the sexiest things you'd ever heard. Your grip tightened just enough to pull another one from him.

"Cariño..." He pulled back with a sigh. "You're gonna be the death of me one day."

You laughed.

His hands found the belt of your robe, slowly undoing the knot.

At the same time, your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, trying to tug them down.

"So impatient," he murmured with a grin. His eyes immediately dropped when your robe slipped from your shoulders.

Nothing underneath. Not even panties. Not because you'd planned it. You just slept naked and hadn't gotten dressed yet.

And judging by the look on his face… he definitely wasn't complaining.

You, however, were having a hell of a time getting his boxers off. He was already so hard that trying to pull them down with one hand was nearly impossible.

"Need some help, cariño?" Javier grinned, amusement written all over his face. For the first time all morning, he looked... lighter. No stress. No embassy. No work. Just him.

You loved seeing him like this. "No." You didn't break eye contact. You brought your other hand up, grabbed the waistband with both hands, and yanked. The boxers slid all the way down to his ankles. "There," you said with a smug little smile.

"That's my girl," Javier murmured. Now he was standing in front of you wearing nothing but the dress shirt and the tie you'd spent the last few minutes fixing. You already knew you'd be fixing it again later. He was already hard. Very hard.

"Mmm..." you teased, your eyes dropping briefly. "Good morning, sir." You kissed him again, wrapping your hand around his cock.

God… he was hot. Thick. Heavy in your hand. Your fingers barely fit around him.

Your thumb brushed over the head, already slick enough to tell you exactly how badly he wanted you.

A low moan melted into the kiss. Almost without thinking, his hips rolled into your hand, slowly fucking your grip while you kept stroking him. One hand slid up to your breast, giving it a slow squeeze before his fingers found your nipple.

The touch sent heat rushing straight through you.

His other hand settled on your ass, pulling you flush against him until there wasn't even the slightest bit of space left between you.

Your hand kept stroking him. Slow. Lazy. Your thumb glided over the head with every pass. "Javi..." you whispered against his lips. "Take me."

That was it.

"Fuck..." He breathed the word against your mouth, whatever restraint he'd had disappearing in an instant.

Your hand slipped off him as he hooked an arm under your thighs and lifted you like you weighed nothing. A quiet laugh escaped you as your legs wrapped around his waist automatically.

The bedroom was only a few steps away. It still felt too damn far. With every step, the head of his cock brushed against you, making you squirm in his arms.

He shoved the bedroom door open with his foot and walked straight to the bed. A second later, he was setting you down on the edge of the mattress.

Your feet found the floor again. Your ass barely stayed on the bed. You already knew exactly what he was about to do.

Javier dropped to his knees. His hands slid up your thighs before gently pushing them apart. "So... morning to you too," he murmured, his eyes fixed shamelessly between your legs.

You leaned back on your elbows. You wanted to watch him. You always did. Watching him settle between your thighs was almost enough to make you lose your mind before he even touched you.

Then you felt it. The very first flick of his tongue against your clit. Your head fell back instantly. "Oh... Javi..." The sound slipped out before you could stop it.

He'd barely started. Barely. But just knowing he was right where he loved being... and God, you knew how much he loved it... already had every muscle in your body tightening.

The teasing didn't last long. Within seconds, slow little kisses turned into something much hungrier. Much needier. Like he'd been craving you all morning. His fingers tightened around your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you while his mouth got to work.

Wet, filthy sounds filled the room as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking just hard enough to make you gasp.

"Fuck... Javi..." Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer without even thinking about it.

He didn't seem to mind. If anything, it only made him groan against you.

Your free hand grabbed a fistful of the sheets. God… he was so fucking good at this. He never rushed. Not once.

His tongue stopped focusing on just your clit. Instead, he dragged long, slow strokes through your slickness from top to bottom before doing it all over again, each one making your hips lift helplessly off the mattress.

A quiet hum vibrated against your skin.

"Nuh-uh..." His voice was rough. "Stay still, cariño." Then his mouth was on you again. He tasted you like he couldn't get enough. Like he'd happily spend the rest of the morning between your thighs. His tongue slipped inside you, fucking you in slow, deliberate strokes before pulling back to lick you again.

Every lick. Every suck. Every stroke.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

And right when you were sure you couldn't take another second...

His tongue slipped away. His lips found your clit again. Then, without warning, two fingers slipped inside you.

"Oh... fuck..." Your whole body jolted. "Javi... slow down... don't stop... fuck... right there..." You weren't even sure what you were saying anymore. The words barely made sense between broken moans.

His mouth. His fingers. The way they worked together. It was too much. And somehow still not enough.

You were so close. Instinctively, your hips lifted, chasing his fingers, trying to take them deeper. The second you moved...

He pulled them out. His mouth left you too.

"Jesus... fuck, Javi..." The frustrated sound that escaped you was almost a growl. You'd been right there. "What the fu–" The words died in your throat.

He already knew. He'd felt how close you were. "I wanna be inside you, cariño," he groaned. He didn't wait for an answer. Didn't need one. He got to his feet without taking his eyes off you.

You started scooting farther onto the bed automatically, already making room for him.

"No." One hand stopped you. "Stay right there." His palm settled against your hip, keeping you exactly where you were. "Good girl." A crooked smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I wanna fuck you like this."

His hands slipped beneath your hips, pulling you all the way to the edge of the mattress. Just enough. He lined himself up with you before dragging you down onto him in one hard thrust. No warning. No easing you into it. He filled you completely.

A cry broke free before you could stop it.

The head of his cock found that spot inside you instantly. The one he somehow always managed to hit. "Fuck..." he breathed. "You feel so fucking good." For a moment, he didn't move. He just stayed there, buried deep inside you, enjoying the way your body squeezed around him.

Then he started fucking you. Long. Deep. Pulling almost all the way out before sliding right back in. Slow enough to make you feel every inch. Then fast enough to leave you breathless. Then slow again.

The room filled with the sharp sound of skin meeting skin.

You'd already been hanging by a thread. This was all it took. "Javi... I... I'm gonna..."

He eased you the rest of the way back onto the mattress and came down with you. His body covered yours completely. One hand found yours. Then the other. He laced your fingers together above your head and held them there while he kept thrusting into you. His mouth found your neck. Little bites. Slow kisses. Dirty words whispered against your ear.

Every single one made your stomach tighten even more. You didn't have a chance. The orgasm hit you all at once. A broken moan spilled from your lips as your whole body went tight around him. Your back arched. Your legs trembled. One wave crashed into the next until all you could do was gasp his name.

The way you clenched around him was enough to snap the last bit of control he had left. "Fuck..." He fucked you through it, chasing his own release, driving into you a few more desperate times before letting go of your hands. He braced himself on the mattress and pulled out.

The sudden emptiness made you whine before you could stop yourself. Your body was still fluttering around nothing.

"Sorry, cariño..." he breathed.

You only smiled.

Neither of you had even thought about a condom. This was just how you did things. Kids weren't part of the plan. Not yet.

His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself a few quick times. A low groan rumbled out of him. The first hot streak landed across your stomach. Another followed. Then another.

You stayed exactly where you were, breathing hard, still shaking from your orgasm as you watched it spread across your skin before slowly slipping lower. God… that was so fucking hot. A tired little shiver rolled through your body.

Javier gave himself another couple of strokes, working out the last few drops before finally letting go.

Still trembling, you scooted farther onto the bed to make room for him.

He didn't need to be told. He climbed in beside you and immediately pulled you against his chest. He couldn't have cared less about the mess. Not on your stomach. Not on the sheets. He buried his face against your neck and let out a satisfied little sigh. "So..." he mumbled. "Pretty sure Crosby wouldn't buy this as an excuse for being late."

You laughed, running your fingers through his hair, now damp with sweat. "Yeah... maybe don't test that." The last aftershocks were still rolling through your body.

He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling against your skin. Then he wrapped his arm around you a little tighter, like he wanted to keep the rest of the world as far away as possible, and pressed one slow kiss to your shoulder. "Mmh..." His lips brushed your skin. "For now... Crosby can go fuck himself." He closed his eyes, letting you curl even closer against him.

Yeah. He'd be late for work. Neither of you cared.

Thank you so much for reading ♡

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“I know what they are, Javi,” you giggle, “I just mean, why are we getting them? They’re not on the list.”

“You and your list,” Javi chuckles fondly, “You nearly burned your hands yesterday night taking the lasagna out of the oven.  Chucho hasn’t baked in 30 years - those oven mitts of his are so old, a piece of paper has better insulation.  You should have let me do it, baby.”

“I’m trying to impress your father, Javi.”

“You don’t need to try, pretty bird.  That man would go to war for you.  All the Peña men would,” the daring DEA agent flashes his famous smile at you - not the same one you fell for long ago back in Columbia, but it’s no less devastating.  The old smile was a little tighter and it strained to reach the pain in his eyes; that smile was a weapon, a mask, elusive and fleeting.  The smile he flashes you these days is no less dangerous, but it comes more naturally and more frequent; its lines have settle easily on this man’s gorgeous face, deep and earned, softening all his features but especially the browns of those same eyes.  Both smiles can and have made you swoon on the spot; you’re grateful you have the bar of the shopping cart to lean on for support.

The two of you grin dopily at one another over your cartful of groceries, oblivious to the other shoppers in this Laredo grocery store.  You may be far from home, but the love you share is the same everywhere, unwavering and soul affirming.  Neither of you count the minutes that pass, it could be one or twenty, before you both snap back to the present, to the ambient muzak playing over the produce section.

“Okay, baby, I think we’ve covered everything on that list of yours, all that’s left is tonight’s dinner.  We got the steaks for grilling - anything else?” Javi rubs his hands together, eager to get back to the ranch and show off his skill on the barbeque.

You giggle and gesture cheekily around you, “Vegetables?”  At Javi’s nose scrunch, you crook your index finger for him to lean forward, planting a quick peck to that kissable pout of his, “If the Peña men are to go to war, they’ll need to eat more vegetables.”

Javi chases your lips, capturing them with a passionate, but still public appropriate smooch, “Okay, okay, can’t ever say no to you, pretty bird.  Peppers.  Some asparagus.  Corn?”  He’s already walking away, headed for a barrel of sweet corn when you shout after him, “Mushrooms!”

“Mushrooms!” comes the confirmation, loud and clear, accompanied by a thumbs up held high.  You hum to yourself, ogling the man’s backside as he starts digging through ears of corn – you hope he never gives up those tight jeans, no matter what the current style is.  There’s little danger of that happening; Javier Peña has never been one to try and blend in, follow trends – he’s one of a kind, this man of yours.

“You’ve sure got that man all trained up, running around fetching the groceries while you stay with the cart.”

You turn to see a pretty woman with dirty blonde hair and a pleasant look about her, she’s around Javi’s age and pushing her own very full shopping cart – unable to determine if her tone is awestruck, joking, or… something else, your reply is a little wary, “Sorry?”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Javier Peña would be seen doing run of the mill, domestic tasks here in Laredo.  Did he move back?”

You know who the woman is now, and while you’re still no closer to figuring out the intention of her comments, she’s no threat, “We’re just visiting from New York, here to spend some time with Chucho before I’m not allowed to fly anymore.”

The woman raises her eyebrows as you push off the shopping cart bar and step back, straightening so that your pregnant belly comes into view.

“Oh!”

“Hi Lorraine,” Javi is back, he’s casual in his movements as he deposits the veggies of his labour into the cart, but deliberate in wrapping a protective arm around your waist, unsure of what was said before his return, “I see you’ve met my wife?”

You introduce yourself and extend your hand towards the other woman for a friendly shake; the lack of any further polite introductions is an indication that no explanations on how everyone knows one another is needed.

“So,” Lorraine smiles brightly, “How far along are you?  Has it been a good pregnancy so far?”

“Yep!” you chirp, your warm expression relaxing your husband’s shoulders, he takes a calming breath and places a proud hand on your round belly, “Just a little over five months!”

“Well, congratulations!  I’m very happy for you both,” the blonde woman is as gracious in her felicitations as you are in accepting them.  Before she turns to go, her curiosity gets the better of her, “Do you mind if I ask, boy or girl?”

“Boy,” you answer, clearly elated.

“Another Peña ready to storm the beaches,” chuckles Javi and the two of you instinctively tilt your heads towards one another, sharing in the private joke.  Lorraine takes your impromptu tête-à-tête as her cue to leave, bidding you and your husband good luck and farewell, leaving you to inspect the produce Javi has selected for tonight's dinner.

“Did I do good?” grins Javi, all thoughts of his ex-fiancé gone as quickly as she had suddenly appeared – his attention fully on the only woman who ever occupies his thoughts.

You pretend to pick through his selections, reserving your praise, “Hmmmmm… Baby Boy Peña doesn’t want any of this sadly.”

“What?” the normally steely head of New York’s DEA field office panics, dismayed at the idea that he’s disappointed his still in utero child, “What does he want?”

“Sushi.”

“The baby wants sushi?”

“Mmmmhhmmm,” you sigh with a dreamy far-off look, “Mercury enriched sashimi.  And an Italian deli meat sandwich from that bodega around the corner back home.  With extra sauce.  And brie!  The baby wants brie, Javi.”

The man chuckles, “Me too, baby.”  You get misty-eyed (damn these hormones!) remembering that in solidarity, Javi has also given up all the foods you can’t eat for the duration of your pregnancy.  Though you had insisted there was no need, it does make you feel incredibly supported and lucky to have such devoted partner; cupping your husband’s handsome face in your hands, you whisper, “Thank you, my love.”

He kisses your eyelids lightly, then with one arm still around your waist, starts pushing the cart towards the checkout, “Thank you, pretty bird.  You’re so strong and beautiful, I owe you everything for carrying our child.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Javi.”

“Please try to remember that when I have to cook your steak medium well tonight,” sheepish, he kisses the corner of your mouth and tries not to chuckle at your frozen look of abject horror, pretending to focus entirely on loading the groceries from the cart onto the checkout conveyor belt.

“You have to eat yours medium well too.”

“What?!!”

And here you are. The first night you're staying at Javi's place. Which is ridiculous, honestly. You've been together for three months and you've never slept over. Never fallen asleep next to him. Never woken up next to him. Hell, nothing between you has ever even happened in a bed. Or on a couch. Or anywhere people usually end up having sex. Which is probably weird. At least a little.

But you just... haven't been ready.

And Javi's never made that a problem. He's never pushed. Never made some passive aggressive comment about waiting. Never acted disappointed. He's just... Javi. Patient. Careful. So fucking considerate it almost hurts. Honestly, you couldn't have picked a safer person to fall in love with. Because that's not the problem. The problem isn't him.

It's you. You trust him. Completely. You just don't trust yourself enough to stand naked in front of a man like Javier Peña. Which is stupid. You know it's stupid. But your brain has somehow convinced itself that Javi probably likes bigger boobs. Or at least normal ones. And yours? Well… not exactly.

The worst part is that you don't even know where the idea came from.

Javi has never said anything. Never hinted at it. Never looked at another woman and made some comment. But he's also never seen you.

And push-up bras deserve an award, honestly. Because they do a hell of a lot of work. Enough that your shirts don't look completely flat.

Enough that maybe he thinks there's more there than there actually is. And what if that's what he expects? What if he sees you without one and realizes you basically lied? Jesus.

And now you're standing in his shower. Which means your options are becoming very limited. You can't exactly walk out there and say: "Thanks for the shower, I'm heading home now."

The man would think you've completely lost it.

And honestly? You don't want to leave. You want to know what it's like to sleep next to him. What it's feels like when he pulls you closer in the middle of the night. You want to wake up beside him. And maybe… maybe you're finally ready for sex too.

Not because Javi wants it. God, no. He's never pressured you. Not once. Never complained. Never acted frustrated. But three months is still three months.

And you're not exactly a nun. At this point you're getting pretty tired of lying in your own bed at night with your hand between your thighs pretending it's him touching you.

He's your boyfriend. You want him. Jesus, you need him. More than you've ever wanted anyone.

People at work have started making jokes. About how neither of you ever leaves together. About how you act like two teenagers. And honestly? They're not completely wrong.

Mostly because you've spent the last three months making sure Javi never has a reason to see you without a bra.

Because if he sees. If he realizes. If he…

You don't know. You never really planned that far ahead. You just kept putting it off. One day at a time.

You've known him for almost a year now. Ever since the transfer from Cartagena. At first it was just beers after work. Tacos. Murphy and Trujillo tagging along. Then somehow it became just the two of you. Then dates. Then him.

And now you're here. You're in love with him. He's in love with you. And you've spent months avoiding anything that feels too close. No sleepovers. No mornings together. No waking up in each other's beds. But tonight was supposed to be different.

Because Javi has waited. He's been patient. Though every now and then you've caught something in his face. Some tiny moment where he almost looks worried. Like maybe he's afraid you don't want him. Like maybe he thinks he isn't enough.

God. If he only knew.

Because it's exactly the opposite. You're terrified that you won't be enough for him. Those thoughts won't leave you alone while you stand under the hot water.

You know he's sitting out there in the living room waiting for his turn to shower. He didn't make a single joke about joining you. Didn't ask to wash your back. Didn't say anything remotely dirty when you told him outside the office earlier that you wanted to go home with him tonight. His eyes just lit up. Like you'd given him the best news he'd heard all week.

And honestly? For a little while, that made you forget all of this.

Almost. Because even now. Even after three months. Even with Javi being the most patient man on the planet. You're still scared. You look down at your chest. At the part of your body that God apparently forgot about. Your eyes sting. You could honestly cry.

And just as you reach for the shampoo, the bathroom door opens. The shower glass is so fogged up there's no way Javi can actually see anything. Still, you notice one thing immediately.

He's standing there with his back to you. "Sorry," he says. "Didn't mean to just walk in." He clears his throat. "I realized I never gave you a towel. And you don't know where I keep them. Didn't really wanna leave you wandering around my apartment naked trying to find one." You can practically hear him rubbing the back of his neck. "They're in the dresser in my room, so... anyway. I brought one."

And that's it. No jokes. No trying to peek. No, hey, mind if I join you? Just Javi being Javi. You can already tell he's about to leave.

And suddenly you really don't want him to. Because you've been thinking about this all day. Since the moment you told him after work that you wanted to go home with him. That no matter what happened tonight, you wanted to be here. With him. Even if everything went wrong. Even if this somehow became the last night you ever spent together. You need this. God. You need him.

"Javi." Your voice barely comes out.

He stops.

"Wait." You can feel your heartbeat everywhere. Your chest. Your throat. Your stomach. You can't keep doing this. You can't keep waiting. Not anymore. "Could you..." Your throat feels dry. "Could you wash my back?" Jesus Christ. That sounds so stupid.

But Javi goes completely quiet. You can feel it, even through the glass. "You mean that?" His voice is soft. Careful. Like he's giving you an out. Like he needs to know this is really what you want.

"I do." Your voice sounds stronger this time. More certain. And apparently that's enough.

Through the steam you watch him undo his shirt. One button. Then another. The shirt hits the floor. His belt. His zipper. The sound of the buckle hitting the tile. And then the rest.

Heat curls low in your stomach. Fuck. You're about to see him naked. Actually naked. And for a few seconds that's enough to make you forget that he's about to see you too. Your entire body feels warm. Your stomach flips. Your thighs press together. The thought alone is enough.

The water keeps running. You can hear it hitting the tile. But mostly you hear your own heart. Honestly, you're pretty sure Javi can hear it too.

A second later the shower door slides open.

Your arms cross over your chest before you even think about it. Automatic. You know he's going to see eventually. You know that. But maybe it doesn't have to be the first thing.

Maybe if he looks somewhere else first. Maybe if…

Your thoughts disappear the second he steps inside. He's completely naked.

And Jesus. It suddenly takes every bit of self-control you have not to look down.

Because he's looking at you. Your face. Your eyes. Only your eyes. Not your chest. Not your body. Just you.

And honestly, if there's anybody losing their mind in this shower right now, it's definitely you.

If Javi is just as affected, he's hiding it way better.

The shower isn't exactly tiny, but it definitely wasn't made for two people either.

When he reaches behind himself to pull the door shut, he has to step closer. His skin brushes yours. Barely. But it's enough.

Your entire body practically shorts out. "Uh... right. My back." Jesus. You can barely get the words out. Before your brain has a chance to change its mind, you turn around. Too fast. Like you're running. Maybe from him. Maybe from yourself. Maybe from the fact that all he's done so far is stand next to you and you're already halfway to climbing him.

Because this is torture. You want to look at him. Really look at him. Unfortunately, your peripheral vision can only do so much. And your insecurities win again.

Javi doesn't seem bothered by it, though. You hear him squeeze the shampoo bottle behind you. It makes the dumbest little fart noise as the last bit of shampoo comes out.

The silence lasts about two seconds. And then you laugh. Actually laugh.

"Jesus," Javi mutters behind you. "Like a five-year-old." You can hear the smile in his voice.

And honestly? Thank God. The stupid bottle. His teasing. The fact that he still sounds completely normal. It pulls you out of your own head for the first time all night.

For a few seconds you're not thinking about your chest. You're thinking about him. And then you're not really thinking at all.

His hands settle on your shoulders. Big hands. Warm hands. He works the shampoo into your skin slowly, like he's got all the time in the world. His thumbs move across your shoulders, down your neck, over your back. There's nothing rushed about him. Nothing impatient. Every touch feels deliberate.

When he reaches your hips, you stop breathing. "Can I?"

You know exactly what he means. You nod. "Mhm."

His hands slide lower. Over your ass. Slowly spreading the soap over your skin.

Your eyes close. And somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, you lean back into his hands.

Javi takes that as his answer. One of his hands squeezes your ass gently.

The sound that leaves you is embarrassingly obvious. At this point? You don't care anymore. You're tired of pretending. Tired of acting patient. Tired of going home every night and lying awake thinking about him. Tired of squeezing your thighs together and wishing it was his hands instead of your own. You need him. You've needed him for weeks.

You still can't make yourself turn around, though. Instead you lean against him. Your back against his chest. Your weight against his body.

And then you feel him. Hard against your ass.

And oh. Oh…!

Well. Apparently you're not the only person in this shower who's been trying very hard to behave.

His hands slide back up your hips. Across your stomach.

You tense immediately. Too close. Way too close.

"Hey." His voice is right next to your ear. "Relax."

You feel his breath against your skin. Then his lips. Little kisses. Your neck. Your shoulder. The side of your throat. One after another.

His hands stay exactly where they are. Resting against your stomach. Not moving higher. Doesn't even try. Almost like he's giving you time. Like he wants you to get used to him first.

Your head eventually falls back against his chest. He's warm. Solid. And the hard length pressed against your ass is making it almost impossible to think straight.

For a little while, you stop thinking about everything. Your body. Your chest. Your fears. Everything. Until you suddenly realize you don't know what to do with your hands. And before you can stop yourself, your arms cross over your chest again. Subtle. At least you think it's subtle.

You feel Javi go still behind you. "Hey. What's wrong?"

You hesitate. Shit. "Uh... nothing. Nothing's wrong." You let out a nervous laugh, but even to you it sounds fake.

"Hey..." Javi says quietly. "If you're nervous, we don't have to do anything. We can just shower and go to bed. I... I don't want you to think I'm pushing you into this, and if I did, then–"

"No." You cut him off. "You didn't. You're not pushing me. You never have."

"Okay." His voice stays soft. "But something's bothering you, huh?"

"Maybe..." Your arms tighten around your chest, like if you hold yourself hard enough you might somehow disappear. God. Everything was going so well. And now you're ruining it. At least that's what your brain keeps telling you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Javi asks quietly. He doesn't move. Doesn't touch you. It's almost like he's afraid that if he does, you'll bolt.

"I... I don't know, Javi." Your throat burns. This is so embarrassing. You're a grown woman. Not some teenage girl having a crisis in a locker room.

"Okay." His answer comes immediately. "You don't have to." You feel him shift slightly behind you. "I can finish washing your back and we can just go to bed. We can talk. Watch TV. Sleep. Whatever you want." God. He's so fucking gentle.

And suddenly you realize you can't do this anymore. You can't keep carrying this around. It's now or never. "Javi, it's not that I don't want..." You swallow. "You. Or... any of this." You close your eyes. "It's the opposite." Your voice comes out shaky. "I want this. I want you. God, I want you so much that I honestly can't imagine another day of pretending I don't."

Javi doesn't interrupt. He just listens. Waits.

"It's just..." You take a breath. "I'm scared."

"Of what, baby?"

You almost can't say it. "That you won't like me."

He doesn't answer right away.

"That..." You laugh nervously. "That I'm not really like the women you've been with before."

A small pause. "Well, that's good." You can hear the smile in his voice. "Because I don't want those women. I want you."

"No, you don't get it." Your eyes sting. "I..." God. Why is this so hard? "I have small boobs. Like… really small." The words come out so quietly you almost don't hear them yourself.

For a few seconds there's nothing except the sound of the water.

Then Javi's hands gently squeeze your sides. "Baby..." His voice sounds genuinely confused. "You really thought I wouldn't want you because of your boobs?"

"No, I..."

Javi is quiet for a second. "Could you do something for me? But only if you want to."

You wait.

"Turn around."

Your stomach drops.

"You can keep your arms where they are. I don't care." His voice stays soft. "I just... I wanna see your face." And somehow that makes it easier. Because he doesn't sound disappointed. He doesn't sound upset. He definitely doesn't sound like a man who's about to walk out of this shower and never look at you again.

So you turn around. Slowly. Your arms stay crossed over your chest. You still can't do that part.

Javi doesn't even look down. Not once. His eyes stay on yours. "Hey." His voice is quiet. "I need you to listen to me for a second."

You nod.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be right now."

Your throat tightens. "Javi–"

"No. Let me finish." He takes a breath. "I don't care about any of that."

"But maybe you think–"

"What?"

"My bras." You immediately want to die. "They make them look bigger and I just..." Your voice cracks. "I thought maybe that's what you expected and–"

Javi reaches up and cups your face. And then he kisses you. No speech. No grand declaration. Just his mouth on yours. Slow. Warm. Patient. Like he's trying to shut up every horrible thought you've had about yourself for the past three months.

You lose track of time. His hand slips into your hair. Your bodies press together. And at some point, without even realizing it, your arms fall away from your chest. You don't notice.

Javi doesn't say anything. Doesn't look down. Doesn't react. He just keeps kissing you.

And honestly? That might be what finally breaks your heart.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. "Do you believe me now?"

Your voice sounds rough. "I always believed you."

"Then what's going on?"

You look down. "I just thought..." God. This sounds stupid. "I thought maybe I wouldn't be enough."

Javi stares at you. And then: "You really thought I was gonna see your boobs and leave?"

You almost laugh. Almost cry. Maybe both. "I don't know."

"Jesus, baby. You've been worrying about this the whole time?"

You nod.

He looks genuinely sad. Not disappointed. Not awkward. Just sad that you've spent months hurting yourself over something that means absolutely nothing to him. "Look at me."

You do.

"You're beautiful."

You open your mouth.

"No." He shakes his head. "I'm serious." His thumb brushes your cheek. "I don't give a shit if they're big."

Your eyes fill immediately.

"I want you. That's it."

The tears finally come. Not because you're hurt. Because you're tired. Because you've spent months carrying this around by yourself.

Javi kisses your forehead. "Wish you could see what I see."

After a minute you step back. You let him look. Really look. And for the first time in your life, you don't feel exposed. You don't feel judged. You don't feel small.

Javi's eyes move over you slowly. No surprise. No disappointment. Nothing. Then he looks back up. "See?" You laugh quietly.

And finally you let yourself look too. His chest. His stomach. And then… his dick. Well. At least one thing in this shower definitely isn't small. The laugh slips out before you can stop it.

Javi catches it immediately. His eyebrow lifts. "What?"

Your face burns. "Nothing."

His eyes narrow. "That's a lie."

You glance down again.

He follows your eyes. And suddenly he laughs too. "Well." He shrugs. "I guess that's proof."

"Proof of what?"

A little smile appears. "That I like you."

You lick your lips. Then you take his hand.

Javi immediately looks at you, almost questioning.

You know him. You know exactly what he'd do after everything you've just told him. He'd give you space. He'd ask if you're sure. Probably ten times. He'd spend the next half hour worrying about crossing a line.

So you do it for him. You place his hand against your breast.

His fingers barely move at first. Like he's waiting for you to pull away.

You don't.

His hand closes around your breast gently. And Jesus. The look on his face. "Mhm. You're gonna be the death of me." His thumb brushes over your nipple, giving it a small squeeze.

The sound that leaves you is embarrassingly loud. Heat rolls through your body all over again. And honestly? You feel good. Really good.

Because he's standing here hard as hell. Because he's touching the thing you've spent months hating. Because he looks at you like he can't believe you ever thought he wouldn't want this.

Maybe the insecurity isn't gone. Maybe tomorrow it'll still be there. But right now? Right now all you can think about is him.

The man standing naked in front of you. The man whose hand is on your breast. The man who's looking at you like you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen. And God. He means it.

A few minutes later your legs are wrapped around his waist. His hands are under your thighs, holding you up against the cold tile while he kisses you hard enough to steal the air from your lungs.

And suddenly none of it feels scary anymore. Not the shower. Not the sex. Not being naked. Nothing. Because it's him. It's always been him.

He pushes into you and both of you gasp. Jesus. He’s really big.

"Fuck," Javi breathes against your neck. His forehead falls against yours. He gives you a second. Another. His fingers dig into your thighs. "You okay?"

You nod. To be honest, his dick fills you up so perfectly that you're more than okay.

He kisses you. Then he starts moving. Slow at first. Almost careful. Like he's still trying to convince himself this is actually happening. His mouth finds your neck. Your shoulder. Your chest. And when his lips touch your breasts, the same breasts you've spent months hiding from him, something inside you almost breaks.

Because he kisses them like he loves them. Like they're something precious. Like he genuinely cannot understand how you ever thought he wouldn't want them.

He groans against your skin. His hips lose their rhythm for a second. And every little sound he makes heals something you didn't even realize was broken.

By the time your orgasm hits, you're shaking against him. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Your whole body goes weak.

Javi comes a moment later with a low groan against your throat, his arms tightening around you as he buries himself as deep as he can.

And afterward, with the water still running around you and his forehead resting against yours, you realize something.

This wasn't the thing you were afraid of. You were never afraid of him. You were only afraid that he wouldn't want you.

And being here now, with him still holding you like he never plans to let go, that fear suddenly feels very, very far away.

Thank you so much for reading ♡

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