by Roxie Rivera
Not wanting to wake her, he rested his head on his palm and simply enjoyed the view. In quiet moments like these, he couldn’t quite believe that she belonged to him. He couldn’t fathom how a woman like this could ever love him. She deserved so much more than he was able to give her, but she seemed to be entirely content with the life they were building together.
He tried not to doubt her love for him. He tried not to let the wounds of his childhood ruin the wonderful gift that he had been given. He had spent so much of his life being unworthy, unwanted and unloved that it was still difficult to adjust to Erin telling him every single day how much she loved and cared for him. That someone so sweet and kind and generous and unmarred by the darkness of life could want him—could cherish and love him—was jarring.
But she did.
The little things he did to make her smile and feel special, the unexpected gifts or surprise getaways like this one, were like an insurance policy. The scared little boy inside him who feared being abandoned believed that giving her gifts and making her life comfortable would balance out any of the stupid things he might say or do to lessen her love for him. He hated that he felt that way. He believed her when she said she didn’t need or want expensive things, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying her excited smile at receiving something pretty. Her joy in receiving his gifts was matched in his joy in giving them.
Overcome with need, he leaned down and gently kissed her lips. He brushed his fingers along her cheek and jaw and pressed another kiss at the side of her mouth. She inhaled deeply and snuggled into him, her elegant hands reaching for his waist and shoulder. He combed his fingers through her hair and captured her mouth in a more determined kiss. She whimpered against his tongue, and his cock pulsed to life.
She sighed happily as he rolled her onto her back, covering her petite body and pushing her legs apart with his knees. He ran his hand down her side to her hip and then swept along her inner thigh until he reached her pussy. She arched into his touch, and he smiled against her mouth. With the practiced ease of a man who knew his wife’s body, he stroked between her thighs until his fingers were slick with her wet heat.
She grew impatient and hooked her heels against the backs of his thighs, tugging him toward her. He didn’t need to be asked twice. He reached down and guided himself into her, and she moaned needily. Her short nails scratched his shoulders as she clung to him, taking his slow and steady strokes. It was the sort of unhurried lovemaking that he had never imagined he would enjoy until her. He liked to take his time and draw out both their pleasures.
She brought her own hand between their bodies. The sight of her slim fingers rubbing fast circles around her clit made his breath hitch. Usually she liked it when he touched her, but this morning she was so excited she couldn’t wait. He moved his hand from her breast to her neck, running his thumb along the front of her throat in a way that made her pupils dilate. He would never take it beyond a gentle caress of her neck—never—but she enjoyed the slight reminder of the command and power he had over her.
He let his hand drift higher until his thumb was between her lips, and the rest of his fingers curled around her jaw and cheek. Her thighs tightened around his waist, and she stroked herself faster. A flush spread across her chest and crept into her neck and her face as she panted. Her eyes shut briefly and then she gasped. “Ivan!”
Feeling her come undone under him killed his control. He fell forward, planting his arm next to her head and using his other hand to grab her ass and shift the angle. She cried out pleasure, and he snapped his hips, fucking into her while she clutched at his hips and waist and shoulders.
“I love you,” she whispered against his cheek. Her lips touched his skin, and he shuddered at the wild feelings she evoked. “I love you so much.”
That was all it took to push him over the edge. He gripped the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair, and captured her mouth in a punishing kiss as he came. She moaned and stroked his back, easing him down from the high of his climax.
Reluctant to move away from her, he stayed buried inside her until he slipped out, taking advantage of their closeness to kiss her until her lips were swollen. He dropped onto his side and slipped an arm under her waist, dragging her across the bed until she was trapped in his embrace. She giggled at the caveman move and kissed his jaw. “That was the perfect way to start this new year.”
He smiled as he combed his fingers through her hair. “I feel guilty about waking you up early.”
“It’s okay. I can nap later.”
“We have the room until tomorrow. You should visit the spa.”
“I might see if they have any openings after our brunch date.”
He groaned at the reminder. “Is it at Samovar?”
She snorted and patted his chest. “No. Lena refused, and Vivian finally agreed to let Benny choose the spot.”
“Finally,” he grumbled.
She laughed and lightly scratched her nails down his chest to just under his navel and then back up again. After a few moments of idle stroking, she gently asked, “Can we talk about Teague?”
“Yes.” He covered her hand with his and turned to look at her. “What did he say that upset you?”
“He knew.”
“About?”
“About the parking lot.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He knew what they said to me.” His heart skipped a beat, and he studied her face. Fear and confusion were reflected in her eyes. “How could he know that if he wasn’t there or involved in some way?”
“He wouldn’t,” Ivan agreed, his mind racing with possibilities. “I don’t want you to see him again. He’s dangerous.”
“I don’t want to see him again,” she assured him. “There was something...off about him last night.”
“Off? How?”
“He was drunk. He smelled like cigarettes. He looked stressed.”
“What does he do? Something with money?”
“Investment banking,” she clarified. “He’s a killer,” she emphasized. “He has an affinity for it. For the risk,” she explained.
“Maybe he took too much risk with someone else’s money,” he suggested.
“Probably,” she agreed, “but how in the world is his job connected to Ruby in jail?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t like not knowing. It made him uneasy and tense. “But I’ll find out.”
“I can do a little digging,” she offered. “One of my friends from college works at the firm.”
He wanted to forbid it, but she would only go behind his back and that would put her in even more danger. “Carefully,” he said finally. “Very, very carefully.”
“I promise.” She shifted in closer until her cheek was against his chest. After a moment, she asked, “What’s the deal with the Muellers?”
“He’s the head of a white supremacist group.”
“What?” Aghast, she lifted her head and frowned. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “He’s the respectable side of those crazy, hateful fucks. The side with the money and the connections that makes them all dangerous.”
She cringed and groaned. “Oh my god! No wonder they made that face when Amos and Karima sat down!” She looked at her hand and made a face. “Ew! I touched them both!”
“I don’t think you can catch hatred like a germ, angel moy.”
She rolled her pretty eyes. “Obviously! I just mean that I sort of enjoyed their company. Not like I want to be friends or anything, but I thought they were okay. Now, I find out they’re tiki-torch-wielding white power weirdos!”
“Well, we don’t ever have to see them again.”
“We might,” she countered. “If you want to develop some of your property—M'
“Our property,” he corrected.
“Our property,” she amened. “We may have to deal with him. I already said I would make a meeting with him.”
“Go to the meeting. See what he has to say. When it’s
over, pretend you’re thinking about it. Give it a day or two to think it over and tell him no. Diplomatically,” he added. “The last thing we need is problems with someone like that.”
“What about Ruby? I’m worried. I still haven’t heard from her.”
“She’s probably being shuffled between parts of the jail.” He wanted to ease her fears, but secretly, he worried something bad had happened to her sister. “A lot of prisoners reaching the end of their stretch get moved from one cell block to another or to ad seg.”
“I’m sure that’s it,” Erin said softly. “I’ll be glad when we get her home.”
He didn’t share those feelings. “I know you will.”
She pressed a kiss to his jaw and slowly untangled herself from his arms and the sheet. “Want to take a shower with me?”
“Like you have to ask?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He stretched, and his stomach growled loudly. Rubbing his hand over his abs, he admitted, “I’m starving.”
“Of course, you are! You didn’t have your giant tumbler of protein sludge, your gallon of water and twenty eggs.”
“It’s not sludge,” he grumbled. “And I’ve never eaten twenty eggs in one sitting.”
She patted his empty stomach and then gave his backside a swat. “I’ll order some room service before I hop in with you. We’ll be dressed when it gets here.”
He stole a quick kiss and pinched her bottom in retribution for the swat. She squealed and playfully smacked his hand. Laughing, he strode to the bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting the heat of the various heads until they felt right. He took advantage of the privacy to relieve himself and then stepped into the shower. He had barely gotten his head and shoulders wet when Erin barged into the bathroom. “Ivan!”
“What’s wrong?” He shoved aside the sliding glass door and stepped onto the bath mat where she stood with her phone in her hand.
“Last night, I had a call from a number I didn’t recognize. I assumed it was a misdial or a spam call, but listen.” She held out the phone and tapped the speaker icon on the screen.
He recoiled at the sound of a woman screaming. His initial assumption that it was Ruby screaming was quickly dashed when the woman started begging for help in Spanish. Her pained cries and the slap of something—a belt, he thought—against her body echoed in the bathroom. There was no mistaking the grunting in the background. His stomach turned at the realization they were listening to a rape.
The voicemail ended mid-scream. Erin’s hand shook as she lowered her phone. She looked ready to crumble, and he quickly grabbed her around the waist, hauling her against his soaking wet body to keep her upright. He pressed his face to hers and hurriedly assured her, “It’s not Ruby. You know that, right?”
“I know,” she said, starting to cry.
“It’s just some asshole trying to scare you.”
“It’s working.”
He clenched his jaw, hating that his wife was being tormented like this.
“What if that’s been happening to Ruby?”
Hearing her voice his concern didn’t make it any easier for him to say, “It’s possible.”
“Do you think that’s what she saw? What they want her to be quiet about?”
“It could be,” he confirmed reluctantly. “Or, it might be some sick bastard who is taunting you.”
“I need to call her lawyer.”
He started to tell her that there was nothing Ruby’s lawyer could do. There was no way to prove the call had any link to her sister. Ruby was getting out in just under forty-eight hours. Her lawyer wouldn’t be able to bust her out any earlier, no matter how much of a fit Erin threw. Instead of telling her that, he said, “If it will make you feel better, call him. See what he says.”
She started to tug away, but he held fast. “After our shower. It’s not even eight yet. He’s probably asleep, and he may not even answer this early in the morning on a holiday.”
She relented and placed her phone on the counter. Holding tight to her hand, he led her into the shower. He wanted to anchor her back to reality, to take her thoughts away from the horrible images that voicemail had ignited. Carefully, tenderly, he washed her hair and her body. There was nothing sexual about the act. It was simply a husband cleaning his wife in the gentlest way possible.
But even as he touched her with compassion and love, his mind was turned to darkness and violence. When he caught up with the monster tormenting Erin, he was going to unleash the hateful, cruel side of him that had been caged so very long.
Chapter Eight
With a knot of anxiety wobbling in my stomach, I walked through the guest room one last time. I tugged the ends of the comforter and smoothed away the few creases, and fluffed all the pillows. I karate chopped the throw pillow in the reading chair I had picked out for Ruby and rearranged the plush chenille blanket. I stepped into the closet and did a mental inventory of what I had placed on hangers and in the drawers.
Another quiver of anxiety pierced my belly as I worried Ruby would flip out when she realized I had gone shopping for her. After she had gone to jail, I had gone to the apartment she had shared with her boyfriend. By then, the management company had evicted them, and everything was thrown in garbage bags in storage. Lena and Vivian had helped me sort through the bags, picking through the absolutely filthy contents to find what little could be salvaged. Ivan had taken Adrian’s things to his family—a few photos, his wallet, his fighting gear, his guitar—and everything else had gone straight to the trash.
The memory of how my sister had been living hurt to remember. Hopped up pills and meth and whatever else she could get her hands on, she hadn’t been eating or showering. There had been piles of rotting garbage and towers of empty soda and energy drink cans all over the place. The apartment had been so badly damaged that the management company had been preparing to sue her. I had quietly taken care of the bill with my HEMS payout from the trust our parents left behind. Lena had wanted me to send a bill to the trustee to get the money from Ruby’s cut, but I didn’t care about the fairness of it all. I just wanted it done and over with so we could move on as a family.
“The room is perfect,” Ivan remarked when I emerged from the closet. He leaned against the door frame, his thick arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched me. Instead of his usual shorts and tee, he wore dark jeans and a steel gray t-shirt. Shoving off the door, he said, “If she doesn’t like it, she can take a Lyft to the closest Motel 6.”
“Ivan!” I thumped his chest. “Be nice.”
He grumbled and lowered his mouth to mine. “I’ll be nice if she’s nice.”
I rolled my eyes and ducked away from his kiss. “We aren’t little kids, Ivan. We can be nice even if she’s being a jerk. And she probably is going to be difficult,” I added. “The book I’ve been reading about reuniting with a loved one after prison says that the initial adjustment period to life outside of confinement can be very stressful. I can show you the section.”
“I’m sure you highlighted it,” he teased. “It would be easy to find if I wanted to read it.”
“But you don’t want to read it?”
“I don’t need a book to tell me about life after prison,” he replied testily.
“I wouldn’t either if you would talk to me about your time inside.”
“That’s not something you want to hear.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s not something I want to share.”
I bit back the urge to be rude. Instead, I calmly replied, “The book says that most people who spend time in prison don’t want to talk to their loved ones about their experience. They don’t want to feel weak or vulnerable. They don’t want to be forced to justify their actions inside, especially if they had to make difficult choices to survive long enough to get released.”
He frowned. “That’s not what—"
“If you ever want to talk about that part of your life,” I interrupted, determined to get this out
, “I will listen to whatever you have to tell me. Without judgment or expectation,” I added as a promise.
He gently covered my hand, trapping it over his heart. His expression softened as his other hand cupped the back of my neck. “Thank you for the offer.”
This time, when he leaned down for a kiss, I welcomed his mouth on mine. I understood that he would likely never speak to me about what he had endured. There were probably parts of his incarceration that he had sworn never to reveal as part of his oath to the crime family he had served since his adolescence. I was glad that he understood that I would listen if he ever wanted to unburden himself.
“We should go.” He checked his watch. “Her lawyer said to get there early.”
"I’m ready.” After that horrible voicemail, I had contacted Ruby’s lawyer to do a welfare check on her. He had charged an outrageous holiday fee to do it, but he had managed to get in to see her that afternoon. He reported that she looked healthy and safe and was ready to get out of there. I had been reassured by his report, but I wouldn’t relax until we had her safely in our SUV.
“Is the bag?” He gestured toward the tote bag I had packed for Ruby.
“Yep.”
He picked it up and glanced inside. With a laugh, he pulled out a box and asked, “Pop Tarts are essential?”
“Yes.” I took the box from him and dropped it back inside the bag. “She couldn’t get blueberry inside.”
“And the Dr. Pepper?”
“It’s her favorite.”
“Was that one of our hoodies?”
“She might be cold when she gets out,” I reasoned. “And, anyway, we have a box of them. It’s not like they’re collectibles or anything.”
“Did you remember to charge her new phone?”
“Yes.”
“And the old one?”
“It’s up in her room.”
“Come here.” He held out his scarred, tattooed hand and beckoned me closer. I let him draw me in, still feeling annoyed with his teasing. He embraced me tightly and kissed the top of my head. “You and that big heart of yours.” He kissed my cheek. “Ruby is lucky to have you for a sister.” He kissed the tip of my nose, making me smile. “I’m lucky to have you for a wife.”