A New Neighbor

Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is a short story that I have written to address some comments that all of my White male characters have very little agency and essentially get cuckolded in every story. I hope everyone enjoys this slightly different story from my usual style and characters.

As always, all comments and feedback are welcome.

HF

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The night shift at St. Vincent's had been brutal. Three gunshot victims, a near-overdose, and a drunk college kid who puked all over her scrubs. Just another night in New York. Having been born and raised in a small blue collar town in Virginia, the daughter of an African-American father and a Dominican-American mother, Maya Delgado had always wanted to move to the big city, to escape her small-town upbringing. By the time she dragged herself through the door of her small apartment in Queens, all she wanted was a scalding hot shower and a sleep so deep she wouldn't even dream. Or remember.

She stripped off her scrubs, tossing them in the hamper, and tied her thick, black curls up into a bun as she turned on the water. The shower helped a little bit. At least her caramel-brown skin didn't smell like dried puke anymore. Washed and dressed in a loose tank top and boy shorts, she collapsed onto the bed, sighing in relief as the mattress cradled her exhausted body.

New York City outside hummed outside like it always did, but she'd learned to tune it out years ago when she first moved there. Despite the honking of cars outside, she was just starting to drift off to sleep...

Then the music started.

The bass thumped through the thin walls, a heavy, pulsing beat that sent vibrations through the floor and started to shake the picture frames on her nightstand, causing one to fall over. It was only a picture of her and Trey that she hadn't gotten around to throwing out. Figures, she thought irritably to herself.

The music paused for a moment, and she was about to let out a sigh of relief. Then it started up again. Someone had just changed the song. Maya groaned, pressing a pillow over her head. It didn't help. If anything, the song only seemed to grow louder. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Maya sat up in her bed, heart pounding -- not with arousal but pure, unfiltered annoyance. She had survived a twelve-hour shift on nothing but coffee and a granola bar, and now she was being kept awake at nearly one in the morning by some inconsiderate asshole next door with a sub-woofer?

With an exasperated sigh, Maya threw back her sheets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The cool air kissed her bare thighs, a stark contrast to the warmth of her comforter. She was still in her sleepwear, so she grabbed the robe from the hook behind her bedroom door and tied it loosely around her waist.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath as she stomped toward her apartment door.

Passing the mirror in the hallway, she saw that her curls were a mess, tumbling over her shoulders, and her caramel-toned skin still carried the faint scent of coconut oil from her after-shift shower. She knew she looked half-feral, dark circles under her eyes, lips slightly swollen from the way she had been chewing on them in exhaustion earlier. But she didn't care. This man had woken her up, and she was about to let him know exactly how she felt about it. The asshole!

The music blared even louder as she stepped into the hallway. She could hear laughter, the clinking of glasses, voices--some deep, some light and feminine -- mixing into the low hum of a bass-heavy R&B song. As she reached the door she caught the whiff of weed and beer. It was a housewarming party. Fantastic.

She'd seen boxes piled up in the hallway the previous day, but she had been rushing to her shift to the hospital and hadn't paid any attention or even glanced through the open door of the next door apartment. Now she was going to find out who her new neighbor was.

Gritting her teeth, she knocked sharply on the door.

The door swung open, and the music spilled into the hallway along with warm air and the scent of beer and weed. Maya was fully prepared to cuss someone out, but the words stalled on her tongue.

The man in front of her was not the beer-bellied frat bro she'd half expected. He was tall, perhaps a touch over six feet at least, with tousled dark blonde hair and sharp, blue-green eyes that blinked down at her with amused curiosity. A plain black Henley clung to a lean, muscular frame, and his lips -- fuller than she would've guessed for a white guy -- curved into a lopsided smirk, seemingly unperturbed by the appearance of an Afro-Latina woman at his doorstep at one in the morning in her pajamas.

Maya had never been into white guys. Not really. The ones she met at the hospital were mostly married doctors who flirted with her like she was some exotic thrill, whispering sleazy things in break rooms when they thought no one was listening. But this man? He didn't look like the type to whisper. He looked like the type to take.

Not that she cared. She just wanted her damn sleep.

"Hey," she started, crossing her arms. "I live next door, and I just got off a twelve-hour shift at a hospital. I don't know if you realize, but your music is loud as hell, and some of us have to work in the morning."

His gaze flickered over her, just for a second. Not in a sleazy way. Just... assessing. His lips parted slightly, and then, to her mild surprise, he actually looked a little sheepish.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was that loud."

Maya lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "It's shaking my walls."

His mouth twisted up in a half-smile. "Damn. That bad?"

"Yes."

There was a beat of silence. His eyes were still on her, and for some reason, the weight of his gaze made her shift slightly under her robe. She suddenly became very aware of how loosely it hung over her caramel brown frame, the smooth slope of her collarbone, the way her tank top clung to her curves beneath it.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll turn it down. Sorry about that."

Something about his easy apology caught her off guard. Most men -- especially Trey -- would've argued, brushed her off, or gotten defensive. This guy just nodded and took responsibility. It was a refreshing change.

"Okay... umm..." she said, feeling strangely deflated as some of the irritation bled from her shoulders. "Thanks."

"Hey... " he called just as she was about to turn.

She glanced back. He was still watching her. His gaze wasn't lecherous, but it wasn't entirely innocent, either. "I'm Lucas, by the way. Lucas Carter. Just moved in."

Her lips pressed together. She wasn't looking to make friends with a noisy neighbor, but something about the way he said it -- low, casual, relaxed -- made her hesitate.

"Maya." She paused. "Maya Delgado."

His smile widened just a fraction. "Nice to meet you, Maya."

She didn't respond. Just turned and walked back into her apartment, shutting the door behind her.

But when she slid back into bed, the music was softer. At least he was as good as his word.

And for some stupid reason, she thought about the way Lucas had looked at her.

*****

The next evening, Maya barely made it through the door before she was kicking off her sneakers, exhaustion weighing down her bones. Tonight, the highlight had been a Manhattan socialite that the NYPD had brought in. She had been as high as a kite on coke and had decided to lash out at Maya while she was trying to take her vitals. It had taken two burly security guards to pin her down while Maya and the other nurses had hurried to fasten restraints. Great, another fucking coked-up junkie.

The Afro-Latina stood in her bedroom, peeling off her top to let the cool air kiss her warm, dark-brown skin, and was just about to strip off her pants when --

Knock, knock.

She froze.

Who the hell? I swear, if that's Trey...

Pulling her tank top back over her head, she walked cautiously toward the front door. When she opened it, she was met with a familiar broad-shouldered figure.

Lucas.

Except this time, he wasn't wearing his casual party clothes. He was in a fitted gray T-shirt and jeans, standing there with a small brown bag in his hands.

"Hey," he said, giving her a sheepish smile, his blue eyes sparkling.

Maya folded her arms. "Hey."

"I, um... felt bad about last night. Waking you up and all." He lifted the bag and held it in front of him. "So, I... uh... got you this."

She eyed it warily as if it were some sort of bomb. "What is it?"

"Chocolate. The best way to make amends." He smirked. "Unless you have a peanut allergy, in which case, this was a terrible idea."

Despite herself, Maya let out a soft snort, part-derisive, part-amused. "I don't," she assured him.

"Good."

Maya hesitated for a moment, then took the bag from him and glanced inside. It was a fancy brand, the type she never bought for herself. Despite herself, her stomach rumbled at the thought of the delicious tasting chocolate bar with nuts

"Look," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed at waking her the night before. "I didn't mean to be you know... that neighbor. I'll keep the noise down from now on, so you can get your beauty sleep," he said with a little grin.

She studied him for a moment. He was different from what she expected. Guys like him -- cocky, charming -- usually got on her nerves. Even more so after Trey. But Lucas didn't have that air of entitlement. He seemed... genuine. And White. That fact wasn't lost on her.

"Thanks," she said finally.

"No problem."

And then, because she was tired, and because the heat of his gaze made her feel something she wasn't ready to analyze, she stepped back inside her apartment.

"Alright, Lucas. Good night."

He smiled. Another charming, cocky smile that seemed to burn right through her. Dammit, she thought. "Good night, Maya."

She shut the door, the image of his blue eyes gazing at her still echoing in her mind.

And as she leaned against it, fingers still clutching the bag of chocolate, she exhaled, long and slow. She wasn't sure what to make of Lucas Carter yet, but one thing was certain -- he was nothing like Trey.

And that? That might not be a bad thing at all, she thought to herself.

*****

The phone was wedged between Maya's ear and shoulder as she hoisted the laundry basket up from the last step of the basement stairwell, closing the door to the communal laundry behind her. Her fingers were gripping the sides of the plastic basket, her arms aching slightly from the weight of fresh, warm clothes. Scrubs, jeans, tops, underwear. The joys of living alone, she thought. I get to do the washing every week.

The scent of clean linen drifted up, but it did nothing to calm the irritation bubbling in her chest. Normally, she enjoyed the smell of freshly washed clothing, it helped her forget about the smells she encountered at the hospital, but not now. Not when she was dealing with Trey. Again.

"Trey, I already told you -- I'm done," she snapped, her voice low but firm as she stepped into the building's foyer. He'd called her while she was emptying the drier. She'd debated whether or not to answer his call. Reluctantly, she had. She now knew that was a mistake.

"Baby, c'mon, you know I didn't mean that shit," Trey's voice came through the speaker, smooth and coaxing, the same way it always was when he was trying to talk his way back into her life. What was this; the fifth, sixth time? She was determined not to fall for his lines again. "You're really gonna throw away everything we had?" he pleaded through the phone.

Maya rolled her eyes and scoffed, shifting the laundry basket to one hip as she walked toward the elevator. She didn't have time for this.

"We didn't have anything, Trey. You had side chicks and a drug habit. I had stress and heartbreak. Sounds like a fair trade, huh?" she remarked brusquely.

"Ma, it wasn't like that -- " he said, his voice pleading and dominant at the same time. What the fuck did I ever see in him? she mused to herself.

The familiar chime of the elevator echoed in the lobby, and Maya looked up just in time to see the doors beginning to slide shut.

"Shit! Hold on," she muttered, picking up her pace to cross the lobby. She barely managed to slip her hand between the doors before they could close completely. They paused, then opened again.

As she stepped inside, adjusting the laundry basket, she felt a pair of eyes on her.

Lucas.

He was leaning casually against the back of the elevator, one hand tucked into the pocket of his joggers, a light gray T-shirt stretching across his chest. He looked at her with that easy, unreadable expression -- one corner of his mouth lifting in an amused smirk. His finger was pressed against the door open button.

Maya's grip on her phone tightened.

"I gotta go, Trey," she said, deliberately avoiding Lucas's gaze.

"Maya, wait... "

She hung up before he could finish, sighing as she let her head tilt back against the cool metal of the elevator wall.

Lucas didn't say anything, but she could feel his gaze lingering on her.

Finally, he raised an eyebrow as the elevator trundled slowly up to their floor. "Ex?"

She let out a dry laugh. "Ha! What gave it away?"

"The tone. That 'I am seconds from strangling you through the phone' tone."

The Afro-Latina huffed a tired chuckle. "Yeah. That would be him. I made the mistake of answering his call."

Lucas nodded, seemingly content with that answer.

Maya glanced down at her basket, ready to shift the conversation elsewhere -- when she suddenly noticed exactly what was sitting on top of her neatly folded clothes.

A pair of lacy, deep red panties.

Her sexiest pair.

The ones she always used to wear for Trey before things went to hell. A sheer front panel, edged in lace with a barely there string that fitted between her full ass cheeks.

And they were right there, on full display, inches from Lucas's line of sight.

Heat crawled up her neck like wildfire. Shit. Shit. Shit!

She cleared her throat, casually trying to shift the basket in her arms, hoping to tuck the offending lingerie out of sight under her arm.

Lucas's lips twitched slightly. His gaze flickered down for the briefest moment, and though he said nothing, she caught the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Fuck. He saw it...

Kill me now. Please!

She turned her head away, pretending to be fascinated by the floor numbers blinking above the elevator door. Please don't say anything... Please don't say anything...

Seconds felt like an eternity before the elevator finally dinged and the doors slid open to their floor.

Maya fumbled for her key as she stepped out, balancing the basket on her hip, her heart still racing with mild embarrassment. The last thing she needed was for her hot neighbor to be picturing her in...

Nope. Not going there, she said determinedly to herself.

She was still trying to fish her key out of her pocket when...

CRASH.

The laundry basket that had been resting on her hip, slipped from her side and tumbled from her arms, clothes spilling out onto the floor of the hallway.

"Dammit," she muttered, dropping to her knees to scoop them up. Quickly! Oh, Jesus...

Lucas crouched down beside her without hesitation, helping her gather her scattered laundry.

And, of course, out of everything that had fallen, his fingers just had to land on those panties. The red ones. The ones that were so wispy, so barely there, that they hardly covered anything at all.

He picked them up between two fingers, raising an eyebrow as he held them out to her. "These are yours, right?"

Her eyes wide, Maya snatched them from his hands, mortified by what had happened. "Obviously," she said through gritted teeth.

Lucas chuckled, handing her the last of her clothes before standing back up.

"You good?" he asked, amusement lacing his voice. He's so fucking calm, like he just hands over women's underwear every day of the week, she thought angrily. She was angry at herself but more so how Lucas seemed so unconcerned yet aware of the effect on her. Dammit, Maya!

She nodded quickly, practically throwing the clothes back into the basket. "Yep. Thanks. Okay, good night."

And before he could say anything else, she darted into her apartment, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

She leaned against it, pressing her lips together, eyes wide in shock. And arousal.

Jesus Christ.

*****

The embarrassment from an hour earlier had finally started to fade by the time Maya had changed into an oversized t-shirt and some leggings and began making dinner. The scent of sautéing garlic and onions filled her small kitchen, mingling with the rich aroma of simmering tomato sauce. Cooking had always been her therapy -- a way to unwind, to focus on something other than the stress of work. And Trey.

She was just stirring a pot of sofrito when...

Knock, knock.

Maya frowned, setting the wooden spoon down as she wiped her hands on a dish towel.

She wasn't expecting anyone. Fuck, if this is Trey... I swear...

When she opened the door, Lucas stood on the other side. Maya blinked in surprise.

Holding something small and black in his hand.

"I went down to put my laundry in and found this in the dryer," he said, lifting it slightly.

Maya stared. And all of sudden, the item came into focus.

It was hers -- a black lace bralette, delicate and soft, one she must have forgotten in the dryer when she was unloading the rest of her clothes and distracted by the call from Trey.

Oh. My. God.

Lucas's expression was pure mischief. "I hope this is yours and not someone else's. Otherwise, this is about to get really awkward."

Maya groaned in annoyance, frustration and embarrassment, snatching the bralette from his hand. She was angry at herself but realized it wasn't Lucas's fault. He was just trying to be nice, and maybe something else too. "It's mine, okay? Thanks." She paused. "Again."

Lucas just grinned. "No problem."

She was about to retreat back into her apartment and collapse onto her sofa in embarrassment when he suddenly sniffed the air, tilting his head slightly as he stood at her doorway.

"That smells good," he said.

Maya blinked in surprise. "What?"

"The food." He nodded toward the kitchen behind her. "Sofrito, right?"

Maya crossed her arms, her bra still dangling from her hand, now seemingly forgotten. "How do you know that?" she asked, curiously.

He shrugged. "I lived with a Puerto Rican roommate for two years. He taught me how to cook some stuff."

She raised an eyebrow. Huh? That was unexpected.

"You're cooking something with tomato sauce, right?" he continued.

Maya nodded slowly.

"Did you add a little sugar to it?"

She frowned. What the hell would a gringo know about Latin food? "No. Why would I?"

"Balances the acidity," he said, leaning casually against her doorframe. God, he made it look so effortless, she mused. "You should try it. Just a pinch."

She squinted at him. "You're really out here giving me cooking tips? A White guy?"

He smirked in response. Was that his only expression? Not that it's bad... she mused to herself. "I mean, if you want it to taste better..."

Maya huffed, turning to look back toward her kitchen. The idea of someone like Lucas Carter teaching her how to cook was so ridiculous, it almost made her laugh. I mean, he's whiter than white.

But then she thought about it for a second.

And, against her better judgment, she found herself saying, "Alright, hotshot. You wanna prove it? Come help me, then."

There was a brief pause.

Then Lucas grinned.

"Thought you'd never ask," he replied, almost as a quip.

And just like that, she stepped aside, letting him in to her apartment and her life.

*****

The soft hum of jazz played in the background, mingling with the scent of the vanilla candle burning on the coffee table and the rich aroma of sofrito that still lingering in the air, their empty plates left sitting on the table. Despite both of them needing to work the following day, the pair had retired to the couch, taking the bottle of wine they had opened with them.

Maya was now sitting comfortably, her legs curled up beneath her, swirling the deep red wine in her glass before taking another slow sip. The warmth of the alcohol spread through her, loosening the tension in her shoulders, making her feel lighter than she had in months. She hadn't realized how tense she had been. Work. Trey. All the drama that had followed him like a cloud. Now, it all seemed to have vanished.

Simply because of him. Lucas.

They'd chatted in the kitchen and then over dinner, the conversation flowing much easier than she had ever imagined. She learnt he had just moved to New York from Chicago and worked as a user experience designer for a small start-up software company. For his part, Lucas had been keen to learn what it was like to work at a hospital, and she'd laughed, telling him it working in an ER wasn't what it was like on TV.

She'd laughed and chatted, the weight of the past few weeks seeming to disappear as she enjoyed the sound of his chuckle and the little smirk he had on his infuriatingly handsome face. I wonder what Trey would think, she wondered, knowing I'm sitting here with someone like Lucas. To her surprise, she realized she didn't want to ever care what he thought about her. Trey was the past. Lucas, well... just maybe, he was the future.

Across from her, the White man leaned back against the cushions, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one arm draped lazily over the back of the sofa. His fingers tapped absently against the fabric in time with the music, his blue-green eyes fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Trey hadn't looked at her like that. He'd looked at her like a piece of meat at times, a convenient hole to stick his cock in whenever he wanted to get his rocks off. Sure, he'd been fun, at least when he wasn't stoned. Before him, Raul had been a good lover. Unfortunately, he'd been drawn by the lights and glamour of LA and his desire to make it as an influencer.

Now, to her surprise, she was starting to wonder what Lucas would be like between the sheets. Something told her that he would be good; perhaps it was his casual confidence. Or maybe the contrast between her dark brown skin, the product of an African-American father and a Dominican mother, and his fair, blonde-haired All-American complexion.

Shit, maybe it's just because I need to get laid, she mused to herself, realizing it had been weeks since she'd had a man between her thighs.

"You really know how to cook," he said, voice low and appreciative, drawing her back to the moment. "I mean, I knew you were good, but that sofrito? That was next level."

Maya smirked, tilting her head. "What, you thought I was just gonna feed you some basic shit?" He'd obviously never been around a Latina, she thought to herself.

Lucas chuckled, the sound rough and warm to her ears. Another flutter of excitement washed over her. I could get to like that laugh... "Nah. I knew you wouldn't have put your foot in it. But damn, Maya. You got skills."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You think flattery will get you everywhere, huh?"

His gaze darkened, just a fraction, but enough to make her stomach tighten even further in excitement. "Maybe. You tell me."

The air between them shifted, thickening with something unspoken, the hypnotic allure of arousal. Maya took another sip of wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. She hadn't expected this -- hadn't expected him. Lucas was different from Trey. Shit, he was different from just about every other guy she'd known, dated or fucked. Easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with. And the way he looked at her? Like she was the only thing in the room worth seeing.

It had been a long time since someone made her feel wanted like this.

"So," she said, setting her glass down on the coffee table. "You really helped with dinner. I'm impressed."

Lucas shrugged, but his lips quirked in that half-smile she was starting to crave. "I told you, I can handle myself in the kitchen."

"Yeah? What else can you handle?" The words, full of subtle innuendo, slipped out before she could stop them, bold and teasing. Oh, Shit! Why did I say that? Part of her wanted to take the words back, another part of her was thrilled and excited that she'd said it.

Lucas's fingers stilled against the couch. His eyes locked onto hers, heat simmering beneath the surface like a smoldering fire. "Why don't you find out?" he whispered softly, but it carried in the stillness of the living room.

Maya's pulse jumped. She hadn't planned this. Hadn't planned on wanting him. But dinner. The conversation. The wine. And now, the way he looked at her -- like he was already imagining peeling her out of her clothes -- made it impossible for her to think straight.

Making a bold decision, the Afro-Latina woman leaned forward, just slightly, letting the neckline of her over-sized t-shirt dip just enough to give him a glimpse of what was beneath. His gaze flickered down, then back up, his jaw tightening as he took in the swells of her firm, heavy brown breasts.

"You're playing dangerous games, Maya," he murmured.

She smirked. "You scared, Lucas?"

Lucas exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers flexing against the couch. "Not even a little."

"So," she murmured, tilting her head towards the glass of wine still in his hand. "You gonna finish that wine, or are you just gonna stare at me all night from there?"

Lucas chuckled, low and rough. "Oh, I'm definitely staring." He took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving hers. "But if you're offering something better..."

Maya laughed, shaking her head. "Bold."

"You like bold."

She did. Right now, she loved it.

Her fingers reached out, tracing the line of his jaw, the faint blonde stubble rough against her brown fingertips. "You're right. I do."

Lucas's breath grew faster, his gaze darkening as his own arousal started to peak as he leaned forward to place his glass next to hers on the table. "Maya..."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Quédate conmigo esta noche," she whispered in her my sexy Latin accent. Stay with me tonight.

Maya heard a sharp inhale of breath from Lucas. Then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer. "Say that again," he whispered.

She smirked, nipping lightly at his earlobe. "You don't even know what I said."

"Don't care." His voice was rough, his grip tightening on her curvy brown body. "Your mouth speaking Spanish might be the hottest fucking thing I've ever heard."

Maya laughed, breathless, as his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "Dios mío," she gasped, giving in to the moment and the erotic energy that was now flowing freely between them.

Lucas pulled back just enough to meet her brown eyes, his own blue-green ones burning with hunger. Hunger for her, she realized with a start. "Tell me what that means."

She pushed against him, her brown fingers threading into his blonde hair. "It means," she murmured, "you're driving me crazy."

A groan rumbled in his chest. Full of desire. For her. "Good," he muttered.

And then his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, swallowing her surprised gasp. Her lips parted instinctively. His tongue sweeping against hers, tasting of wine and something darker, something hungry. Hungry for her. Overwhelmed, Maya melted into him, her curvy brown body arching instinctively into his pale, toned one, seeking more. More of him.

Through the haze, she felt his hands slide down her back, gripping her hips, pulling her onto his lap. She straddled him, the heat of him pressing against her mound through her leggings, making her whimper with arousal.

"Fuck," Lucas muttered against her lips. "You feel..."

"Sí," she breathed, rolling her hips, earning a sharp hiss from him. "Como esto." Like this.

His fingers dug into her curvy thighs, his breath ragged. Oh, God... he feels so good... so big, she thought happily to herself. "Fuck... yes..." he gasped as she rocked forward, feeling his length rub against her labia.

Maya smirked, grinding down again, relishing the way his jaw clenched. "You sure you want me to keep going? Remember, you started this."

"And I'll finish it," he growled, flipping the curvy Latina onto her back on the couch in one smooth motion.

Maya let out a startled laugh as she landed against the cushions, Lucas hovering over her, his body caging her in. His eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You sure about this, Maya?" Lucas murmured, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as he gazed at her with his sparkling blue-green eyes. She had never been surer of anything else in her life at that moment.

Maya hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him flush against her, his White cock grinding against her pussy. This was her answer. "Cállate y bésame," she whispered. Shut up and kiss me.

Despite his lack of knowledge of Spanish, Lucas didn't need to be told twice. Her eyes and her expression told him all he needed to know.

His mouth crashed back onto hers, his hands roaming, exploring -- skimming up her sides of her body, tracing the curve of her full, heavy 36C breasts, slipping beneath the hem of her t-shirt. Maya gasped as his pale fingers brushed against bare, brown skin, her back arching off the couch. Seeking more of him, more of his touch on her skin.

Suddenly his hands were pulling at the fabric of her t-shirt, her arms lifting up instinctively as he pulled it up over her head to drop next to them on the floor.

"Lucas!" she gasped, surprised and excited in equal parts at how quickly and easily he'd removed her t-shirt. If he's as good at that... what else is he good at? She felt her pussy moisten even further at the naughty thought.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against her throat, his teeth grazing her sensitive brown skin.

She shuddered, her nails scraping down his back. "Tócame," she breathed. Touch me.

His hand slid higher, cupping her left breast through her bra, his thumb circling her dark brown nipple until it peaked beneath the fabric. Maya moaned, her hips lifting, seeking friction, desperately trying to rub against his thick manhood.

"You're so fucking horny," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. More than you know, she thought excitedly to herself, her arousal levels now almost off the chart. She wanted him. Now.

She tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. "Off."

Lucas didn't hesitate, yanking the fabric over his head and tossing it aside. Maya's breath caught at the sight of him -- lean muscle, broad shoulders, the faint trail of dark blonde hair leading south from his navel.

"Dios," she whispered, her hands mapping the pale surface of his chest, tracing a tattoo of a starburst over his left pec.

He smirked, catching her wrist and pressing a kiss to her palm. His lips were hot and wet. Just like her. "Like what you see?" he quipped.

Maya rolled her eyes, but her pulse jumped when his lips traveled up her arm. "You're insufferable."

"Maybe," he murmured, nipping at her collarbone, "but you're not stopping me..."

The young nurse gasped as Lucas's mouth found the swell of her breast, his tongue flicking over her nipple through the lace of her bra. "Ay, mierda..." she moaned.

Lucas chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. "I really need to learn Spanish."

Maya tangled her fingers in his blonde hair, tugging lightly, encouraging him. "Less talking," she panted. "Más juego" More playing

With a grin, he obeyed, his hands sliding down to her waist, his mouth trailing lower, kissing a path down her stomach. Maya's breath came faster, her thighs trembling as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings.

"These," he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her navel, "are coming off." His tone brooked no argument from her.

Instinctively, Maya lifted her hips, letting him peel the fabric away and tossing it on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties. Lucas's gaze darkened as he took her in, his fingers tracing the lace edge of her underwear, along the crease where her thigh met her groin.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Maya bit her lower lip, watching the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers flexed against her thigh. "Problem?" she asked, a touch of nervousness creeping into her voice. Oh, God... please don't freak out. She'd always been slightly on the larger side, the result of her ethnic heritage, and this had always been a source of anxiety for her.

Lucas looked up at her, meeting her eyes, his voice rough. "No. You're beautiful... so fuckin' beautiful," he said in a low growl as he shook his head.

The raw sincerity in his tone sent another flush of arousal spreading through her body, turning her skin flushed and warm. She wasn't used to this -- to being looked at like she was something to savor. Trey had seen her as someone to have fun with, at least for him. Seeing Lucas look at her this way was a new, and exciting, experience for her. One that, right now, she wanted to enjoy to the fullest.

Not wanting to lose the moment, her fingers reached down to find the button of his jeans, popping it open. "Your turn."

He let out a shaky breath as the Latina pushed his pants down, his cock straining against his boxer briefs. Nice... very nice, Maya thought with a smirk as she palmed him through the fabric, earning a choked groan from the White man.

"Maya -- " he gasped.

She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Quiero sentirte," she whispered. I want to feel you.

Lucas moved his head, his tongue swept against hers, deep and possessive, and she moaned, leaning into him, aroused and excited beyond belief by the turn of events. His free hand tangled in her black hair, tilting her head back, exposing the soft caramel skin of her throat to his lips.

"Fuck," he muttered against her caramel brown skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. "You're even sweeter than I imagined."

Maya's nails dug into his shoulders. "You imagined this?"

Lucas pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes blazing. "Every damn minute since I met you."

The admission sent a thrill through her. She hadn't expected that. Hadn't expected him to be the one consumed by want. Oh, God... he wants me as much as I want him!

Before she could respond, his mouth was on her again, kissing her passionately now with a desperation that made her head spin. Oh, God! This... this feels so fucking good... she thought giddily to herself. This White Adonis wanted her, just as she was. His hands roamed her brown body, mapping every curve, every dip, as if he was memorizing her. The thoughts combined with the sensations of his hands on her body, sending her arousal levels skyrocketing.

When Lucas's fingers finally slipped beneath the lace of her panties, brushing against her soaked folds, Maya gasped, her wide, curvy hips jerking hard against his hand.

"Fuck, Lucas!"

He swallowed her strangled moan with another searing, passionate kiss, his fingers circling her clit with just the right amount of pressure. Not too hard, not too soft, just insistent. He certainly knew what he was doing and right now she never wanted him to stop. "You like that?" he murmured against her full lips.

She could barely think, barely breathe as she struggled against the waves of pleasure emanating from her clit. "Dios! Don't stop."

Lucas chuckled darkly, his fingers sliding lower down her labia, teasing her entrance. "I haven't even started."

And then --

He pushed inside. Slowly.

Maya cried out, the sound half a sob, half a moan, her back arching off the couch as he filled her sheath, his thumb still working her clit in slow, maddening circles.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his forehead dropping to hers, his own breaths coming low and fast, his finger probing her pussy in the most delicious way possible. "And wet. Christ, Maya," he whispered, adding a second finger to stretch her even further.

The young Latina could only whimper in response, her long nails scraping down his back as Lucas moved his fingers inside her with a rhythm that had her seeing stars. "All for me?" he growled, his breath warm against her ear.

She answered by rocking her mound against the palm of his hand, her hips chasing the pressure of his fingers. He obliged her unspoken request, circling her clit with a torturous slowness that had her biting her lip to stifle a whimper, her orgasm starting to build deep inside her, hot and heavy as he continued to finger her.

"Don't hold back," Lucas ordered, as he pressed her deeper into the couch. "I want to hear you."

And then he pushed a third finger inside her, curling all of them in a way that made her vision blur in pleasure. Her head fell back, a moan tearing from her throat as he pumped his hand, his thumb keeping steady rhythm on her clit. It was both too much and not enough for her -- her thick, brown thighs trembled, her hips lifting frantically to meet his strokes, seeking release.

"Dios, Lucas! Sí, sí, just like that... " she whimpered.

He groaned loudly, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. "Fuck, Maya. You're so damn perfect."

His praise sent a fresh wave of heat through her. Perfect. Trey had never called her that. Trey's touch had been rushed, transactional, his hands always grasping, taking, never savoring her. But Lucas... Lucas worshiped. His mouth, his hands, his body -- every movement against her was deliberate, designed to unravel her in the most wonderful of ways.

As if reading her thoughts, Lucas stilled his fingers, withdrawing them despite Maya's needy whine of protest. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unyielding. "I need to be inside you. Right now!"

The brown-skinned woman nodded, her throat too tight to speak, her arousal off the charts. She wanted this now, wanted him, more than anything else in the world. He pulled back, his hands helping hers as they scrambled to unfasten her bra and remove her panties. Within seconds, her bra and panties had been stripped from her body, landing in a heap on the floor next to her leggings.

As they did, Lucas stripped off his boxers, his erection springing free, thick and flushed a vivid pink, and Maya's mouth instantly watered. To her very pleasant surprise, he was bigger than Trey -- fuller, harder, better -- and the thought of him, a White man, filling her, stretching her, sent a primal ache through her core.

He didn't make her wait. Gripping her hips, he dragged her to the edge of the couch as he shifted into position, her thick legs hooking around his waist, pulling him in tight. The first press of his cock against her entrance stole her breath.

And as he slid into her, inch by glorious inch, she watched his face -- the way his jaw clenched, the flutter of his lashes, the raw hunger in his eyes. When he was fully sheathed, they both groaned, the sound merging into something desperate, needy.

"Shit, you feel..." He trailed off, his hips jerking involuntarily, seeking more of her, for him to penetrate her even more deeply.

"Sí," she gasped, her nails scoring long red lines his back. "Más! Move, Lucas, please... " she begged.

He obeyed at once, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, hard and deep. Maya's loud cry echoed off the walls of her living room, her back bending and rising up in an arch off the couch. He set a brutal pace, each snap of his hips driving her higher, his hands gripping her hips tightly to pull her back to meet every thrust.

"That's it," he rasped, his breath ragged. "Take it, take me -- "

She was unraveling, coming apart under him, her climax coiling tight like a spring deep inside her. She was almost there... when suddenly he slowed, his movements turning languid, almost cruel as he grinned down at her.

"Lucas," she pleaded, her voice breaking as she rocked her body against him. She had been so close...

"Shhh." He brushed his lips over hers, his hands sliding up to cup her full breasts, thumbs flicking her dark brown nipples. "I'm not done with you yet."

His thrusts became more gentle, but the angle shifted, the head of his cock grinding against her G-spot with every roll of his hips, causing her eyes to roll back in her head. Maya writhed beneath him, oversensitive and trembling, her Spanish slipping out in breathless fragments as she struggled to control her body.

"Ay, así -- no pares, mi amor... don't stop -- " She was babbling now, lost in the void of ecstasy, coming apart at the end of his incredible White cock.

He captured her left nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, and she nearly came from that sensation alone. Her hands fisted in his dirty blonde hair, holding him there as he lavished her breasts, alternating between tender licks and sharp nips that made her gasp.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he muttered against the sensitive skin of her aureoles as he continued to rock his hips, driving his cock in and out of her tight sheath. "Every fucking inch of you."

His words, his touch -- it was too much for her to control, to hold back. Her climax surged without warning, a tidal wave that ripped through her, leaving her shuddering and crying his name. Lucas cursed, his rhythm faltering as she clenched her vaginal muscles around his shaft.

"Maya! Fuck, I can't... "

"Dentro," she begged, her legs locking tightly around him. She didn't want him to pull out. She didn't want to him to ever leave her. "Quiero sentirte..."

Lucas came with a groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside her, hot and deep. The sensation -- the pulsing warmth, the way his body shuddered against hers -- sent another ripple of pleasure through her, softer this time, but no less devastating for the Afro-Latina woman.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, his forehead pressed to hers, their breaths mingling. When he finally slipped out of her, she whimpered at the loss, the feeling of emptiness, but he gathered her close, his arms wrapping around her as he collapsed onto the couch next to her.

"Holy shit," Lucas breathed, his laugh shaky and excited.

Maya let out a breathless laugh, her fingers still tangled in his hair. "Yeah. Shit!"

Lucas lifted his head slightly, his lazy smirk returning, one that she was beginning to enjoy seeing. "So, just to be clear... this wasn't just to thank me for my sofrito, right?"

She rolled her eyes, swatting at his shoulder. "Shut up, estúpido."

Lucas grinned, pressing one last lingering kiss to her thick, full lips. "Gladly," he replied as he shifted position, snuggling more closely against her. Maya could feel the warmth of his body, even as hers started to cool. Hmm... that was one way to enjoy dinner, she mused to herself as her brown fingers tracing idle patterns on his pale chest. The room smelled of sex and sweat and vanilla, the candle now spluttering in its holder on the coffee table. Lucas's heartbeat thudded against her ear, steady, strong and comforting all at once. All felt right in the world in that perfect moment as he held her.

Trey had never held her afterward.

The realization struck her suddenly, sharp and sweet and oh, so very intoxicating. After he nutted inside her, Trey would roll over, light a blunt, his mind already elsewhere. But Lucas... Lucas was different. His arms tightened further around her, as if not wanting this moment to end either, his lips brushing her temple in a kiss so tender it made her chest ache.

"Stay," she whispered, before she could stop herself. "Please."

He didn't hesitate. "Try and get rid of me."

And as she drifted into an exhausted, sated sleep with Lucas on the couch, Maya dared to hope -- just a little -- that this time, things might be different for her.

*****

The pale morning light filtered through Maya's gauzy curtains, painting streaks of golden light across the pale skin on Lucas's bare chest as he slept. His arm lay draped over her waist, fingers twitching faintly against her hip as if even in dreams, he couldn't let go of the young Latina. Lying there next to him, Maya watched her new White lover, her full lips curving into a sly smile. Dios mío, he's beautiful like this, she thought, tracing the faint scar on his shoulder, a little detail she hadn't noticed last night in the frenzy of tangled limbs and bitten-off moans.

Her body still hummed from the memory of him; of how they had rested on the couch before eventually stumbling to her bed in the early hours of the morning and falling asleep again together. But not before he'd pinned her to the bed, fucking her again with long, deep strokes that had her quivering in ecstasy as she'd come hard on the end of his beautiful White cock. Moments later, he had climaxed for the second time that evening. She could still vividly recall the sensation of his cock spurting ropes of cum into her waiting pussy. It had been delightfully hedonistic, powerful, the perfect way to end the night.

Lucas stirred, his stubble grazing her temple as he nuzzled closer. Maya's hand drifted lower, fingertips skating over the ridges of his abdomen, down to the thatch of blonde hair at his groin. He was already half-hard, heat radiating from him as her fingers closed gently around his length between them.

"Mmm... again?" His voice was sleep-rough, his breath warm against her neck as her slow ministrations pulled him from his sleep.

Maya nipped his earlobe, feeling him twitch in her grip, hardening further. "You got a problem with that, papi?"

He chuckled, low and lazy, his hips rolling towards her, seeking more of her attention. "Just making sure you're not trying to kill me before breakfast," he murmured.

"Breakfast can wait," she whispered naughtily.

Thirty minutes later, the alarm blared at 7am -- normally a shrill, unwelcome intruder to her slumber. Now it was just a distraction to her other activities. Maya silenced it with a slap of her palm, her full, brown thighs trembling as she rocked backwards and forward as she straddled Lucas, her Latin body now slick with sweat that rolled down her brown skin in tiny droplets. His strong, white hands anchored her hips in place above him, guiding her rhythm, not too fast, not too slow as his thumbs dug into the soft brown flesh where her waist curved.

"Ay, dios... right there," she gasped, her head falling back as the young White man thrust up into her, hitting that spot in the depths of her canal that made the Latina's vision blur. She clenched around him, and his groan vibrated through her core, stimulating her further.

"Fuck, Maya... you're... " he grunted loudly, doing his best to maintain his own self-control as the curvy brown-skinned woman shook above him.

"Shut up," she panted, riding him harder, her nails scoring red lines his chest, his cock discovering new locations, new sensations, deep inside her with every thrust. "Just... fuck me."

Lucas obliged, his hips pistoning upward harder now, each snap of his pelvis dragging a ragged cry of pleasure from her throat. For the third time that morning, Maya could feel the coiled spring inside tightening again, that sweet, unbearable pressure...

"Dios mío," she breathed, her voice breaking as he thrust upward, guiding her faster, deeper. "You're fucking insatiable," he rasped hoarsely, his thumb circling her dark brown nipple in a way that made her back arch. "Third time this morning, Maya?"

She clenched around him deliberately, earning a choked curse. "You keeping count, papi?"

"Hell yes," he growled, his hips snapping up to meet her descent.

The headboard thudded against the wall in time with their rhythm, the sound mingling with Maya's breathy Spanish-accented moans and Lucas's ragged exhales of breath. She could feel the heat continuing to build, growing low in her belly, threatening to snap at any moment. Trey had never lasted this long. Trey had never cared this much.

"Lucas, I'm gonna... ¡mierda!"

"You close?" he growled, though he already knew. His thumb brushed her clit, circling her clit once, twice, and she nearly sobbed. Oh, God... I'm so close...

"Sí, sí, sí... no pares..." she gasped.

Without warning, Maya shattered into a million pieces, collapsing against his toned, white body, her scream muffled against his shoulder as Lucas followed her over the edge, his cum spilling into her again with a guttural groan.

Several minutes later, as the pair lay tangled in sweat-damp sheets, Lucas idly traced idle patterns on her back. "You're gonna be late for work."

Maya snorted, nuzzling his collarbone. "Worth it."

He chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "Flattery won't save you when your boss asks why you're limping."

She swatted his chest. "You wish you were that good."

"Oh, I know I'm that good." His smirk was infuriating. But now she loved it. "Three times before breakfast? That's a personal best."

"Keep talking, papi, and I'll have you make it four."

Lucas's eyes darkened, but the alarm buzzed again, relentless and annoying. Maya groaned, flopping onto her back. "Ugh, fine, fine. I'll get going. But you're making coffee."

"Yes, ma'am." He pressed a kiss to her shoulder before sliding out of bed, gloriously unselfconscious in his nudity as he strode across the bedroom towards the door. Maya watched his pale ass as he disappeared to the kitchen, a little grin plastered on her face. What a great start to the day... she mused happily as she wearily climbed from the rumpled bed.

*****

The subway ride to the hospital was crowded, the air thick with the smell of coffee and damp wool. Maya leaned against a pole, her body still humming from the events of the morning. She was running late, but it was worth it. After shower and coffee, she had teased him back to life for one last fuck in the kitchen while she was dressed in her scrubs with the Latina sinking to her knees and taking him into her mouth.

It had only taken him a few loving licks from her tongue, combined with the suction of her mouth, to get him hard again. Again, she mused at the time, that didn't take long. Eventually, when he was fully hard, he'd pulled her to her feet, spun her around and bent her over the kitchen bench. Maya had squealed in delight as Lucas had pulled her scrubs and panties down around her ankles and sank himself into her quivering pussy from behind.

It had been a fast and very energetic fuck with both of them needing to get to work. As she swayed on the train, she felt the warmth of his cum seeping through the cotton of her panties. Definitely worth it... she thought happily to herself.

Suddenly her phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket, glancing at the screen.

Trey.

She hesitated, then answered. "What?"

"Maya." His voice was honey-smooth, the way it always got when he wanted something. "I... I'm sorry about last night. What happened... you didn't want to talk?"

"I was busy," she replied, curtly.

"Busy?" A beat. "Or busy?" he asked, pointedly.

She clenched her jaw. Fuck him -- what she did was her own business. "What do you want, Trey?"

"Us." The word slithered through the line, and she sighed. Not again. As if hanging up on him the previous night hadn't been enough of a hint for him. "I want us. I'm telling you, I'm clean now, I swear. Got a job lined up and everything... "

"No."

"No?" The Black man's tone sharpened. As it always did when he didn't get what he wanted. He paused for a moment. "You seeing someone, ain't ya?" he asked in a suspicious tone. "You gonna throw away three years for some rebound dick?" he continued.

Maya's grip tightened on the pole, her knuckles turning white. "It's not a rebound, Trey"

"Bullshit!" he spat through the phone. "Who is he? Some nurse from the hospital? Let me guess -- some weak ass with soft hands and a pencil dick... "

"He's a software engineer." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "And he's white."

Silence. Then a short, sharp bark of laughter. "You kidding me? You're letting some vanilla cracka hit it 'cause you're mad at me?"

Maya's pulse roared in her ears as she processed his words. "He fucks me better than you ever did, Trey"

The line went dead quiet. When Trey spoke again, his voice was a snarl. "You're lying."

"Am I?" She lowered her voice, injecting as much venom into it as she could. "He makes me come so hard I forget my name, Trey. You ever manage that? Or were you too busy sniffing after anything in a skirt?"

"Maya..."

She hung up, her hands shaking. The train screeched to a stop, and she shoved through the crowd, gulping the cold air as she emerged onto the sidewalk. Her phone buzzed again with a message from Trey: You'll regret this.

Without a second thought, she blocked his number, then pulled up Lucas's contact.

Maya: My place. 7pm. You still owe me for keeping me up with your music.

Lucas: Deal. But only if you wear those red panties ????

She slipped the phone into her pocket, her cheeks aching from the grin she couldn't, and didn't, want to hide.