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So you always remember to follow your beliefs, Niño.
Luca smiled as the sweet steam tickled his mustache. His parents had always supported him, and he knew they always would. But that safety net didn’t take away from this moment. From the incredible opportunity he now had.
The opportunity he’d completely lucked his way into.
The opportunity he couldn’t allow himself to fail at.
Three months of celibacy . . .
The dating part of the pledge would be easy. Luca had learned the hard way that he couldn’t be a sex columnist and have a loving relationship.
First there’d been Bai, his secret boyfriend in high school—mortified at Luca’s sex education leaflet and disgusted at all the attention it might bring on them.
He’d been the first to call Luca a pervert for wanting to write about intimacy.
But he hadn’t been the last.
Then there’d been Jack, Luca’s first fling in college. Deep enough in the closet for both of them, and convinced that Luca was only dating him to eventually reveal his secret—as though Luca only liked him as a social experiment. As though Luca would ever name someone without their consent.
He’d been the first to tell Luca that he needed to choose between their relationship and his writing.
But he hadn’t been the last.
And then there’d been Harry, the first man that Luca had ever loved. Funny. Smart. Husky and playful and sexy as hell in his business suit. He’d been a few years older and all the more handsome for it.
In their two years together, they’d only ever had one fight.
Right at the end.
When Harry had sat Luca down out of nowhere, and tearfully explained that his new job on a political campaign wasn’t compatible with someone who did this for a living.
He’d been the first person to break Luca’s heart.
And he’d also been the last.
Because Luca had made damn sure of that.
His fingers paused over the keyboard. A tear—sharp despite the months—threatened his cheek.
He blinked it back. Caging it. Rejecting it.
Because it wasn’t worth crying over.
Because he wasn’t worth crying over.
No, the dating part of the celibacy pledge would be effortless.
The sex part, however, would be brutal.
It was no secret that Luca loved to fuck, and that he was damn good at it, too. He’d written about it for years—all sorts of positions and combinations and partners. And contrary to the mainstream beauty aesthetic that demanded smooth, fat-free skin, his own curvy ass never had any shortage of men wanting a good, long taste.
And Luca loved all of it. The first glance, the first kiss, the first touch. Exploring and embracing and causing great big groans. Finding out what made someone’s engine rev, and looking deep into their eyes as you did it for them.
On cue, Luca’s bulge stiffened. Usually, he would’ve unsnapped his jeans and tended to himself. Or dialed one of the many contacts to have the frustration pounded out of him.
But this time he ignored the ache.
Because this time, there were more important things at play.
