Chapter 21: Yenni’s Fault Lines

The Arrival

It was early. Even earlier than Mama usually called her.

Yenni let herself in quietly through the back entrance of the Caceres house, slipping into her usual morning rhythm. She often came before sunrise to help prep for Mama’s workday.

But as she crossed the hallway near Carla’s bedroom, she stopped short.

Soft, unmistakable sounds leaked through the closed door.

What She Heard

Carla’s voice, breathless and raw, broke through the quiet.

“Ay ... Eli ... más ... así ... no pares...”

The rhythm was undeniable. Bodies colliding. Breath catching.

Eli’s deep groan followed, low and thick.

The bed creaked softly under them.

Yenni’s chest tightened as heat flushed through her. She should have stepped away.

She didn’t.

Instead, she froze, heartbeat racing, pulse thumping in her ears as Carla’s cries rose sharply into a broken climax.

The final soft gasps after were somehow worse, quiet, intimate, completely untouchable.

The Origin

Later that morning, Yenni stood beside Mama Caceres in the kitchen, kneading dough while trying to push the sounds from her mind.

The kitchen had always been her place of safety.

When her mother left and her home unraveled, Mama Caceres had pulled her in, gave her purpose, structure, and warmth when nothing else made sense.

She’d grown up following Carla everywhere, hovering behind Eli when he came by. Mama taught her to bake, to run a home, to find stability.

But no matter how close she felt to this family, the gap between close and truly belonging never stopped aching.

The Contrast

Her thoughts kept looping back to what she’d heard. And what she knew she couldn’t stop imagining.

Carla’s body had always drawn attention. Soft curves, full hips, thick thighs that Eli’s hands gripped so easily. Her plush frame absorbed his powerful size like they were made for each other.

Yenni glanced down at herself.

Slimmer. Sleeker. Narrower hips. Smaller chest. Beautiful, yes, but different.

She knew Eli’s body too. Broad chest, thick arms, sweatpants hanging low on those narrow hips. The impossible fullness he carried beneath them.

Yenni had glimpsed just enough, through stolen camera clips and quiet whispers, to know what Carla was taking inside her.

Her thighs pressed together beneath the table.

Was there room for someone like her? Would he ever crave something smaller? Or was his hunger permanently drawn to softness?

The Visit

A few days later, Yenni brought breakfast directly to Eli’s house.

Muffins. Always a safe excuse.

He opened the door shirtless again, sweatpants hanging low.

“Another breakfast delivery?” he teased.

“Can’t let you starve,” she replied, voice lighter than the pounding in her chest.

She stepped inside, setting the basket down while sneaking a glance. His powerful frame, the visible outline beneath the fabric still making her breath catch.

They talked easily, comfortably, but her pulse never slowed.

Every smile, every light brush of his hand across her shoulder, sent warmth through her stomach.

The Drop

When she stood to leave, she made her move.

With a practiced flick of her wrist, the earring slipped free, falling silently into the couch cushions.

“I’ll be back later to help Mama.”

“You’re always welcome,” Eli smiled.

Her stomach flipped.

Always welcome.

The Replay

That night, alone in her apartment, Yenni sat with her phone.

The saved clip looped again.

Carla riding Eli. His hands gripping her wide hips, holding her in place as she fully took him. Carla’s voice breaking as her body surrendered to his impossible fullness.

Yenni exhaled, heat rising inside her.

Her grip tightened on the phone.

She wanted him. And she was running out of reasons not to reach for what she wanted.