“I’d shoot you, but your husband might quit.”
“That’s my line, jerk!” I yell in mock-indignation. “Besides, Javi always double-crosses me.”
“Do I?” The man in question wraps an arm around my waist then, pulling me against a hard chest. One I love. One I can’t sleep without cuddling on. When I don’t answer, he chuckles against the crown of my head. “What’s freaking her out? Coming out, or the pregnancy?”
I’ve never turned around so fast in my life. My eyes meet his: my wide ones on his soft, molten chocolate ones. “You know?”
“I do.” Javi brings both hands up to my face, cupping my cheeks. His lips are spread into a wide smile, the softest expression over his chiseled features. “At first, it was just a suspicion, but after the week of nothing but Buffalo wings for dinner with a coconut cake for dessert, I knew. You love coconut, but not in a cake.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
He shuts me up with a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and warm; our lips connect, and all my worries disappear. I’m tethered to him. My world begins and ends with him.
Softly, Javier nibbles on my bottom lip before pulling back when a throat clears, a sheepish grin on his face. “My apologies for forgetting you exist.”
“I’ll remember that the next time London comes to have lunch at the office.” He’s trying to sound annoyed, but I hear the happiness in his tone. Real happiness, and after nipping Javi’s jaw and removing his hands from my face, I turn to face him. “Take a moment and come inside when you’re ready. We’ll keep them inside.”
“We?” I squeak, worried someone else knows.
“London knows, Mari. And don’t worry, no one is upset, nor will we let them give you shit.”
“I’m sorry I hid this from you.”
“Shut up.” Pulling me in for a quick hug, he kisses my forehead before gently pushing me back. Right back where I belong. With Javier. Always my Javier. “Congratulations, Lucas family. I’m looking forward to meeting my godchild.”
“I didn’t ask you?” I laugh, feeling so happy to finally share this.
“Not asking. I’m claiming my rightful spot.” With that, Malcolm turns and heads back inside, slipping into the kitchen through our sliding glass doors.
“How far along are you?” Javi asks. His hands grip my hips, fingers expanding to caress my small bump.
“A little over three months.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “And everything is okay? You’ve seen the OBGYN?”
No anger. Never reproach.
“We’re healthy and right where we should be.” Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and let it out slowly, savoring his manly scent. Javi is my home, and being close to him gives me the peace and stability I need at the moment. He centers me. Assuages and fortifies my soul. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but so much—”
“I’m not upset, Muñeca. You’ve been nervous and taking on so much.” His words soothe me. Calm me of the fear I’ve been trying to fight against. “But I need you to understand that no matter what, you’re not alone. We handle this together. Everything together.”
“In sickness and health, we are one.”
“We are one.”
We’ve been here before, eight months ago when we lost our first little one. It was an accident. One of those things you can never prepare for—it’s out of your hands—and no matter how much you think what if the drunk asshole who slammed into my car didn’t drink that night, it’s useless.
Nothing changes the outcome after the fact.
He decided to drive drunk after a coke bender.
He decided to hit his wife and then leave her locked in their basement.
He made a decision that changed our lives.
But more than that, we faced the heartache on our own, while Javier made an example of the unscathed driver. He made sure the man never made it to court, killing him outside his home with an old rusty ax his wife provided.
“I love you, Javier. So much.” My voice breaks a bit, and he turns me, wrapping me in an embrace. His forehead on mine. “Please know that I never meant to hide you or our babies. Both of them,” I whisper, tasting his every exhale. Letting the tears fall, because I know no matter what, he’s my rock. My haven. “All I ever wanted was a bit of normalcy. To keep this perfect little bubble we’ve created where I’m me and you take me with every quirk.”
“I do that with pride, Mariah. You’re mine.”
“Always yours.”
Warm fingers sweep across my cheeks, clearing the traces of my emotions and then healing every fear with a kiss on my lips. Just one pec settles me. Just a simple touch to let me know he’s here.
I’m not alone. I’m loved. I’m protected.
“Are you ready to let them know?
“I’m ready to marry you again.” He tilts his head, brows furrowed, but before he can ask, I’m slipping to one knee. Our new rings are in my pocket; a special set I had made with our wedding date inscribed along with our babies’ due dates. “So will you make an honest woman of me again and renew our vows?”
“You had this planned.” Not a question. I see the small shiver that rushes through him.
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you will, or yes, I’m crazy.”
Javi doesn’t respond. Instead, I’m lifted off the ground and swept off my feet. He’s a determined man with a smile on his face that sends my heart into a frenzy as he rushes inside and comes to a stop in front of our family.
Everyone watches us with a smile, not understanding his erratic breathing and my goofy grin.
“We’ve been married for over three years now and I’m sorry we’ve kept it hidden. I don’t apologize for loving her, for living for her, and anyone who gives her shit will deal with me.” My face heats up while silence surrounds us. I peek up and catch a few people with surprised expressions and others that look smug. My aunt and uncle look smug. Do they know? “Now, I’m going to take my wife upstairs, thank her for giving me this beautiful life—the baby growing within—and then renew our vows. Do not interrupt, or I will shoot you.”
“Oh my God!”
“My baby!”
“Jesus, Javi,” I giggle, smacking his shoulders while those in the room begin to protest. However, one look from the man I love, and they file out and into the backyard with London leading the pack. She’s smiling, winking at me, and gives us a thumbs up before closing the door.
The music begins a second later.
Laughter seeps through the glass.
And it’s exactly how our first wedding should’ve been, surrounded by those we love. Full of happiness and... oh fuck!
“But first, you’ll choke on my cock...” Javi’s lips are at my ear, nipping and teasing with the tip of his tongue “…while I eat your pretty little pink pussy. I want your juices on my face, your release on my tongue before I impale you and watch you shatter all over again. I want your sobs of pleasure and sweaty skin. I want to worship, then fuck you until you break, and then, I do is the only thing that will slip past those lips.”
“Yes, please.” It leaves me on a moan. A breathless plea, and Javier nods against my neck.
“Your wish will always be my command, Muñeca.”
Outtake #1
I’M STANDING JUST outside of Javier’s hospital room with a man I’m all too familiar with.
I caught him here, wandering down the halls and stopping just outside this room where I have just enough space between the door’s opening to witness what’s happening inside.
My little cousin is incredible, and I smile.
“She’s always done things her way,” I say, and the man tries to answer but I push the barrel of the gun deeper against his neck. “You should be proud of the woman she is, Uncle.”
“Let me go.”
“To your death, sure.” The wedding officiant begins to speak, and I listen, taking in the goofy smiles on their faces and the way her eyes light up with l
aughter when he pokes her side. And while I’ll never admit this to her, hiring—arranging that first meeting with Javier has been my wisest decision to date.
He’s good to her. Has taken away the sadness that lingered in her eyes for so long after Lane and her parents betrayal.
“You need to stop this. That man—”
“Is your future son-in-law, although you’ll never meet him.”
The man dressed as a priest begins to read from his bible about love. He explains that the emotion is given freely and is honest—it’s not jealous and does not boast nor does it strike down or hurt the other person. He talks about kindness and hope. Of unity and family.
A tear falls from Mariah’s eye and she catches it before Javier notices. His eyes are on the officiant while my cousin shows a moment of weakness, of missing her family, but when he looks over and sees her frown, his concern erases all traces of hurt.
He mouths, are you okay?
And she replies, always with you.
“The rings?” the man asks, and both have sheepish grins. “You don’t have any?”
“This was a last-minute thing, and she proposed.” Javi shrugs, his grin cocky. “Ms. Mariah here stole my thunder, once again.”
“I did not. You’re just slow.”
“You two will be just fine.” He produces something from his pocket that looks like small rubber bands and places one in each hand. “Now, repeat after me and use these as place-holders. I’m sure you’ll have your real sets before the week is over.”
“Guilty.” Javier looks at Mariah with a soft expression. One you don’t see in men who hold no qualms in ending a life. Who’s itching for revenge. “I brought my parents set home with me. I’d like to use those for now.”
“I’d be honored, babe.”
“You see that, asshole?” I hiss into my uncle's ear, my finger pulling the trigger but no bullet dislodges. The clip inside has three at the most, and he got lucky this time. “That’s love. That’s the look she’ll wear on her face for the rest of her life.”
“He’s not worthy.”
“And these are your last few minutes on this earth,” I remind him. “I’m considering this a wedding gift to the happy couple after all the trouble you’ve caused with your deceased whore.”
“What?” The gun is pressed so tight to his jugular that it comes out a low garble. “What did you do to Mildred? Where is she?”
“Dead.” Javi looks over and I catch his minute nod of approval. The evil in his eyes, a quick flash that’s gone before Mariah notices the exchange. “The same your friend—the supplier of the black roses—will encounter. Mariah killed Mildred. Javier will end Grant.”
“No. No, she can’t be—”
“By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Their lips meet, and I hit my uncle across the forehead with the butt of my Desert Eagle, creating a nasty gash right across the bridge of his nose. And as they kiss, I drag him back toward the stairwell where Carmelo stands guard. He sees the unconscious man and jumps into action, carrying his weight like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.
“Where to?”
“My home. I’m in the mood to play.”
Outtake #2
“This is unnecessary, Javier.” It’s the eighth time she’s said this since I placed her inside my SUV, adding kidnapping charges to my already long rap sheet. Fuck it. I don’t care and my cock enjoyed the way she pouted at the end of her ridiculous statement.
Now, what’s unnecessary is her notion to fight my every gesture. She’s stubborn. Always on the defense.
You like it, though. And fuck me, I do.
Besides, this complaint falls on the nicer side of her conversational skills at the moment; a monologue I hum to here and there, so she knows I’m listening. And I am...
Each objection.
Each annoyed sigh.
Each curse.
Each motherfucking time she bites her bottom lip in exasperation, I’m left fighting the demonic urge to pull over and take her over the center console. Or part those glossed lips and let her feel the weight of my cock on her tongue.
She has no idea how each provocation heightens my need for her.
How hard I am behind my zipper.
“Time to get this over with,” she whispers under her breath, but I hear it loud and clear and there’s a lilt of anxiety that doesn’t sit right with me. Mariah fidgets a bit in her seat, the just above-the-knee skirt she’s wearing in a soft pink shimmying up her thighs, exposing more flesh. I swallow hard and she sighs. “No time like the present since I wasn’t given a choice.”
Pulling into the parking space closest to the E.R. entrance, I shut off the ignition and turn to look at her. Fully appreciate the vibrancy of her eyes, the high rosy cheeks, and then the curve of her pouty, sensuous lips. “I am your choice.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” I’m attuned to her moods, react to her emotions and right now, the little coquette is fighting back a smile. And yet, there’s a hint of unease there I don’t like. “Are you—”
“Have I ever told you that I despise hospitals and needles?”
“No.” That’s not something I’d forget about. Ever.
“Well, it’s true.” My eyes narrow and hers widen, giving me that phony innocent look all women use to their advantage at some point in their life. “Can I come back another time? I’m not ready.”
Oh, she’s good.
“Whatever you want,” I croon, reaching over to tuck a stray piece of hair that’s fallen from her high ponytail. Then, I begin to play. Tit for tat. Tilting my head to the side, I furrow my brows and frown. “You do look pale. Are you okay, Muñeca?”
I don’t miss the small shiver at the nickname or the way she bites the inside of her cheek. “If I am, it’s because needles squig me out. Just not a fan of being poked and prodded.”
Her lips turn into a small frown and it hits me: she’s serious. Mariah’s uncomfortable and that creates a pang—tightness in my chest—and I rub the spot. “Why didn’t you tell me, sweetheart? I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do.”
Her shrug is sheepish. “Couldn’t give you more ammo to use against me.”
No sooner has the last word passed through her lips that Mariah jumps down from the SUV, and rushes inside. For a second, I’m lost to her words and the way her answer makes me feel, but I’m hot on her heels the moment that car door slams closed.
A nurse inside the lobby looks up the second we almost run into her desk. I’m breathing hard and Mariah is slightly glaring—we don’t look like the most trustworthy individuals—and the woman merely raises a brow in question.
“I’m here to get my stitches removed.”
“They can wait a day or two,” we speak in unison and the lady continues to just watch us. The expression on the poor nurse’s face would be comical any other day, but the tremble of my muñeca’s hand evaporates any amusement.
She really does hate this. Moreover, I’m the asshole forcing her.
“Babe, we really don’t—”
“Is Samuel available?”
“Who the fuck is—”
“He’s on shift tonight. Let me page him.” The nurse is quick to press a few buttons on her phone, cradling the receiver when the link clicks. “Dr. Pains, are you available for a suture removal? Umm, I don’t…let me ask her.” She makes eye contact with my girl. “Name, ma’am?”
“Mariah Asher.”
“He’ll be right up.” The young woman looks like she ate a lemon, her lips pursing a bit. “Must’ve heard you because he didn’t give me the chance to finish.”
“Thank you. I’ll wait over—”
“What in God’s name are you doing in my E.R., squeaks?” Who the fuck is he calling squeaks and why is Mariah smiling at this clown?
“Need these out.” My muneca holds her palm out, showing the small line of stitches from her accident at the
restaurant. The day I came into her life like a frustrating hurricane and she broke a glass, according to Malcolm. He snitched the next day with another threat to treat her right. “Can you help?”
She bats her lashes and my eyes narrow. She leans over a bit and I nearly pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and march the fuck out.
“Mariah, I think it’s best if we leave,” I grit out and all three heads turn my way. Two wary, while she’s all innocence. And wasn’t she afraid a minute ago? “Trust me on this.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mariah…”
“Javier…”
“Do you two need a minute?” Dr. Pains asks, his lip twitching. “Or can I take care of my patient?”
The way he says my almost costs him his life, and were it not for Mariah, I would’ve shot the prick. Her hand grabs mine, entwining our fingers, and the harsh squeeze she gives them settles me—calms me down enough to not open fire inside the public building.
“Come on,” she sighs, rolling her eyes and I’m tempted to bite the brat. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Fine.”
“Good.” Pains walks toward the two doors with the keycard access needed and waves the plastic square in front of the reader. They open and we walk through, following the prick to an empty room near the back of a long hall where he points to the bed. “Sit and breathe. You know the drill.”
I cut my eyes to him; eyes narrowed. “Say it politely or I’ll—”
“Ms. Asher, can you please sit down and extend your palm facing up over the tabletop?”
“Thank you, Sam.” Now she calls him Sam, too. This woman is pushing my buttons. All of them. “Anything else you need me to do?”
“Muñeca,” I warn, this is past the realm of what I can take. “Quit it.”
“Quit what?” She bats her lashes and looks at me with that wide and innocent look that stirs something within. The kind that makes me want to drop to my knees and worship at her altar. “You brought me here. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Yours (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 4) Page 21