by A. J. Downey
He’d told them… how could he?
“Why are you telling us this, Mav?” Dump Truck’s voice rumbled out through the speaker on the phone Mav held in front of him, hidden from my view.
“You know why.”
“Right.” A big sigh sounding thin and reedy filtered through the sunshine and over the lake. “Discuss it more in depth when you get back here. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Might be coming in early and hot,” Maverick said. “Let you know the decision on that when we finish up here.”
“Copy that, fly low, fly fast and try not to win any awards.”
“Later, brother.”
The phone chirped in his hand and he sighed as tears slipped down my cheeks in scalding twin lines.
Jesus, did everybody have to know?
“So that brings us to our next order of business,” Maverick declared.
“We need to decide if we’re leaving now?” Fenris asked and he looked up from where he was crouched on one of the benches around the outer edge of the gazebo. He was straight across from the entrance in front of Mav, but he had the hood up on his sweater and his head bowed and hadn’t seen me.
He looked up, his blue eyes piercing about to say something but whatever it had been, the words died on his lips before getting past when he spotted me.
“Shit,” he grated, and all eyes turned in my direction.
I hugged myself, feeling like my guts were spilling out for all of them to see, to mock, to pity, to do with as they pleased.
The guys straightened, took a helpless step, stood from where they were sitting, but no one moved toward me.
Maverick looked back over his shoulder and stood off the edge of the central stone firepit built in the middle of the little building.
“Babe, how long you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” I said dispassionately, and I couldn’t help myself. I lit off in a string of the most colorful curses I’d ever heard in Spanish.
A few of the guys looked surprised, Tic-Tac looked amused, confirming my suspicions that he somehow knew a little of my first language and I suddenly hated them all; hated them all with a deep and fiery loathing that was only outmatched by the loathing for myself.
“Give us a minute, huh, guys?”
“Keep your eye on the prize, P. We leave today or what?” Tic-Tac demanded.
“In favor?” Glass Jaw asked and raised a hand. Hands shot up like mushrooms after a rain but Maverick never took his eyes off me.
“That does it,” Fenris said. “Let’s all go pack our shit.” He lumbered in my direction and I stood my ground, refusing to quail as the men took the only way out of there that was available, passing me by as if they were water in a stream and I were a stone.
Their booted tread against the built-up berm of earth leading out to the structure were muted, but their footfalls heavier than mine.
I was suddenly torn between wanting them to leave and wishing they would stay so I wouldn’t have to be alone with Maverick… the traitor.
We stood, the silence sweeping in, filling the space between us in the wake of the rest of the guys’ exit.
“Why?” I demanded, voice hollow.
“Why did I tell them?” he asked.
“Why did you betray me?” I demanded. “I told you that in confidence and you just couldn’t wait, could you?”
“No, Marisol, it’s not like that –” He took a step forward and I took one back and he froze. “Baby, don’t,” he said, and his voice was sharp.
“Why, then?” I demanded again. “What is it like, Maverick? Make me understand because from where I’m standing you look like a real maldito bastardo!”
“I get that,” he readily confessed, hands out in front of him, his dark hair flopping over his forehead in that way that I’d always found incredibly disarming and sexy, but his mouth was set in a grim line rather than that charming rakish grin that always disarmed me to the max and his indigo eyes glittered with some overwhelming yet undefinable emotion and I don’t know why… but that look in his eyes, it both comforted me and scared me at the same time.
It was a look of a man who was still here. Who wasn’t about to give up on me despite knowing my secret? The look wasn’t what I was used to. It wasn’t exploitative, it wasn’t calculating… he radiated genuine concern and that honestly freaked me the hell out.
I hugged myself tighter, my nails digging into my own arms, palms sweating against my skin despite the still-cool temperatures that had yet to grow uncomfortable.
“I want to help you, but you have to understand how this works,” he said softly and took a cautious step forward.
I didn’t move and he didn’t press.
“Talk,” I barked, willing to hear him out – at least for now.
“Nothing goes down without my say-so,” he said. “But by the same token, if I want to stay in charge, I can’t just go off on a lark and do whatever I want, especially when what I want to do could negatively affect every man whose put any faith in me and my ability to lead. All we’ve got is trust and I can’t go and break it. I can’t go off and do what needs doing on my own here. I mean, I can, but I can’t have my cake and eat it, too. The kind of thing I’m talking about, it doesn’t get done without a conversation.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, and the danger in his eyes told me all I needed to know.
Still, he voiced it anyway for my benefit.
“Retribution.”
“What if I don’t want it?” I asked.
He shook his head slowly, his expression pitying and more than a little sad.
“It’s out of your hands, my little zaychik.”
“Why?” I demanded, straightening my back, squaring my shoulders.
A slow smile curled at the corners of his lips as he asked me, “You really going to stand there and go toe to toe with me over that piece of shit?”
“I don’t care about him,” I said savagely.
“Your little brother?” he asked.
“I don’t know what Abuela would do,” I confessed. “She’s unpredictable.”
Maverick nodded slowly and said, “You let me worry about that.”
I let my hands drop to my sides and stared out over the lake.
“What are you going to do?” I asked softly.
“Not your concern, baby. All you need to know is he hurt what’s mine and he’s gotta pay for that.”
I jerked my gaze back to Maverick’s and raised an eyebrow, my arms going back around my middle defensively.
“Yours?” I asked.
“Mine,” he affirmed and then committed this little expression of acknowledgement and amended, “If you’ll let me keep you.”
I felt my brow crush down into a frown.
“Why would you want to?” I demanded.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back and took another few slow steps, gauging if I would rabbit on him or not with each one. I stood my ground while he went on…
“You’re beautiful, smart, and cunning. You make my life better in a shitload of small ways I didn’t even realize existed. You take care of me better than anyone has before. You keep up with me sexually, you’ve never lied to me – and believe me, I would know if you had, and I would hope that you could recognize that I’m here for you and that I want to take care of you, too… I think we could make good partners, baby.” He cupped my elbows gently with his hands and stepped lightly into my space, letting his hands fall to my hips and I couldn’t help it. I let mine fall back to my sides, let him in.
What he was offering was all I’d ever wanted and was so very tempting… but I couldn’t, for the life of me, decide if it was the right move to make and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t see it. Couldn’t look into the glass like a bruja and see the future and what it might look like for us.
I swallowed hard and whispered, “I don’t know…”
His lips curved into a secret little smile and he pulled me into the shelter of his arm
s carefully, kissing the top of my head, his arms around me. The embrace radiated warmth and strength, two things I felt as though I had never really known, and I stood frozen in the circle of his arms and simply soaked it up, not knowing if I would ever have the opportunity again.
“Why do you want to help me?” I asked softly against the worn leather and dirty patches of his cut.
“Because without even realizing it, I think you’ve helped me,” he said.
“I don’t know how.”
“And that’s okay,” he murmured and pressed another kiss to the top of my hair. He sighed and said, “We have to work on some things if this shit is gonna work, though.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Communication is a big one.”
I nodded.
“No more keeping things from me,” he said.
“What about you? You keep things from me all the time.”
“It’s for your own safety. Your own good,” he answered.
I snorted and sighed, saying, “I’m so fucking sick and tired of ‘do as I say and not as I do.’”.
“Touché, I get that, but this world—”
“Is one I’ve lived in since birth,” I said sharply. “You think I care for the American laws? The American dream is a nightmare for people like me.”
He drew in a deep, slow breath and let it out equally as measured.
“Talking about your immigration status?” he asked to be clear.
“Not mine or my brother’s. We were born here… not that it really matters.”
“The outlaw life isn’t exactly the same thing,” he pointed out.
“What’s more violence?” I asked him with a one-shouldered shrug. “The worst has already happened to me.” My voice was soft, but the reality was a hard one. The worst had already happened to me. I’d already been raped; I’d already been beaten… what was death as compared to that? A release was how I looked at it. It didn’t scare me anymore.
Maverick’s expression was a mix of so many things then, but finally settled into a grim resignation, a deeply dark understanding. He smoothed his hands over me, and gripped my shoulders firmly, giving me a little bit of a shake.
“Nothing is ever going to happen to you ever again,” he said with such a steely resolve I felt my eyes widen, but not in disbelief. Everything about him made me believe every word coming out of his mouth. My own mouth going dry just when I felt the need to work up enough spit to swallow.
I managed, but just barely.
“Go pack our things,” he said firmly, letting me go. “I need to have a talk with Dragon.” He raised his chin and looked down at me imperiously when I drew breath to argue, talking right over me before I had the chance. “I won’t tell him any of the gory details if I don’t have to. Just go pack our things. We’re leaving today.”
I nodded and turned and missed it keenly when the typical playful smack didn’t land against my denim-clad ass.
Chapter Fifteen
Maverick…
I gave her space as much as I could as we headed back to Washington. The absolute highlight of those days was having her pressed against my back, the evenings were a little rougher. I wanted her, but I was afraid to instigate any touching that was more sex and less comfort. I held her at night, but I let her wear some of my clothes as pajamas and I kept myself covered, too.
She would lie silent beside me, fingertips plucking at my tee over my collarbone, and I desperately wanted to know what she was thinking… but I never asked. I just thought it was better to give her time, let her call the shots on what she did and didn’t want to share.
I simply lay in the dark beneath her and let my own thoughts wander, usually to what all needed to be done when we got back home.
I had leverage, but I needed the rest of the men of the club on board before I went there.
There were also a lot of questions that needed to be answered, like where was her uncle now? How did we go about tracking him down? All things I wanted answers to but had to hurry up and wait until other hurdles were cleared first.
I had to take this in a certain order of operations when I desperately just wanted to make that motherfucker bleed.
Marisol sighed restlessly and I eased off on the hold I had on her. I hadn’t even realized I’d had tensed, tightening my arms around her, until she made the sound.
“Do I gross you out, now?”
Her question was like a bucket of ice water.
“What? No!”
“Then why haven’t you made a move since… you know… I told you.”
She looked up at me as I looked down at her and her gaze was a second shock to my system – haunted, aching, the raw hurt in her eyes went to my heart and slashed it with a razor. I cupped her cheek in my hand and smoothed a thumb over her so-soft skin.
“I honestly don’t know what to do with that part of things, Zaychik. I know that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know that I don’t want to cause you more pain…” I trailed off, a little helpless. I hated that, but it was the truth. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fix it and there was no fixing it. There wasn’t an ounce of retribution I could wring out of her putrid fuck of an uncle that would even come close to making up for what she’d endured.
Impotent rage swept through me and I just barely kept it from seeping into my eyes which were still locked with hers. I didn’t want her thinking I was angry with her. I could never be angry with her over this. I was sure, in time, I would be pissed with her – but not over something like this.
“Can I kiss you?” she asked, her voice muted, strained with her longing.
“You never have to ask me that,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to ask me either,” she said quickly, and I put my thumb to her lips, silencing her.
“Just the opposite,” I said. “I feel like I should always ask.”
She gave me a small smile and sat up murmuring, “You can ask, but you don’t have to ask.”
“Yeah?” I asked, my heart in my throat as I watched her lips, transfixed by them as they drew nearer, ever so slowly.
“Yeah,” she whispered, breath warm against my lips, an electric thrill traveling through me as the silken softness of her mouth barely touched mine in a timid little kiss.
I groaned, capturing her face between my hands, and deepening the kiss. I was a starving man desperate for the nourishment only her touch could provide.
She was in it to win it, her hands slipping under the blankets, one reaching into the front of my boxers, gripping my cock firmly but carefully, massaging the already hard length of my shaft with this little magic twist of her wrist that sent me groaning all over again.
The little whimper of desire that escaped her lips was like candy – sweet, sensual, sumptuous on my tongue and stoking the fires of my desire for her even higher.
I rolled her onto her back in the bed we shared, nudging her knees apart with mine, shoving the tee she wore out of my way so I could kiss my way down her body, spending a length of time at each of her pert breasts, lavishing the nipples with attention. Her fingers caressed through my hair, her ragged breathing encouraging me, her slight whimpering moans begging me for more and I was going to give her my all – just on my own time.
“Maverick,” she gasped when I started to work my way down her flat, toned stomach, her voice breathy, begging, and I loved the sound of my name on her lips.
I hooked fingers into the waistband of the pair of my boxers she wore and swept them down her long, shapely legs to get them out of my way. I wanted my mouth on her sweet cunt. I could never get enough of her taste; like summer sunshine on my tongue, and I wasted no time in feasting on her. I wanted to rock her world, so I slid a finger up inside her, teasing around for the right spot – there, right there. I knew because her hips bucked, her voice flying from her mouth in surprise.
I dipped another finger up into her wetness and hooked them in a come-hither motion, riding the pads over that rough
, plump, patch of her anatomy guaranteed to drive her wild.
Her reaction did not disappoint, one hand knotting into the sheets at her hip, the other pressed to her mouth, trying to muffle her cries as I worked her inside with my fingers and her clit with my tongue. My free arm I had to use as a bar across her hips, restraining her to the bed as I worked my magic on her.
She was dripping wet, hot, and slick against my hand, and I wanted to push her over the edge so damn bad. I wanted her to come screaming, wanted her to come so hard all she could do was lie there and take my cock whichever way I chose to give it to her.
I would not be denied, not unless she told me to stop, and by the heavily lidded and passionate look she gave me between the valley of her breasts, down the length of her perfect body where it met mine, she had no desire whatsoever to be done with this.
She tangled one of her hands in my hair and pulled my mouth tightly against her body where I brought it to life with my tongue.
Game on, my little rabbit… I thought to myself, and really teased her g-spot to life.
“Oh, God…” she gave a strangled cry and fell back against the hard plane of mattress beneath us as I wound her up to watch her go.
She came beautifully for me. I loved that about her. So expressive, she used her whole body freely when she felt this good. When she could get out of her own head which is right where I wanted her to be, away from the past, fully present, with me.
She arched off the bed, tits thrust artfully to the water-stained ceiling tiles of the cheap-ass motel room, her legs snapping closed around my head as she sat up, trying to get away from me – but I wouldn’t have it. I kept at her clit with my tongue, kept at her G-spot with my fingertips and dragged her gasping and crying out through the storm of her orgasm and through to the other side.
She collapsed back onto the bed and I rose above her to take her in, lying beneath me, eyes glazed, pupils dilated in the soft lamplight. Her perfect breasts rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, golden skin lightly dewy with a shimmer of sweat.