Old Hollywood

by Suzanne Steele

  With her lips flushed and swollen from King’s kisses, Harley couldn’t get out of the van fast enough. She almost tripped running to her car. It seemed to take forever for her to unlock her car door as she struggled to work the key fob with her quivering hand. Safely ensconced in the driver’s seat with the door locked, she rested her head on the steering wheel and tried to wrap her brain around all that had just happened.

  She couldn’t go home, at least not right away. Not knowing that he knew where she lived. She grabbed her phone and called Stacy. “Meet me downtown at our spot for a drink. I need to unwind. Desperately.”

  “Can’t stop thinking about the hospital hotty, huh?”

  “The last thing on my mind is the hospital hotty,” she lied. She knew she’d be thinking about King for a long time to come. She’d never be able to use that purple vibrator again without him front and center in her thoughts. Maybe she should just throw it away. She scowled at the thought of tossing it out with the trash. Dammit, she really did love that thing.

  She parked outside the bar, remembering little about the drive across town. At least she wouldn’t have to walk too far. She didn’t feel safe anymore, would probably never feel safe again. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a faint tap on her window.

  “Damn, girl, why are you so jumpy?”

  Harley ignored Stacy’s comment and got out, putting her purse in the trunk after she grabbed some cash from her wallet. It was a question she had no interest in answering.

  “I need a drink, long day is all.” Her friend had to almost run to keep up with her.

  “Hey, wait up.”

  “I told ya, I need a drink.”

  The doorman smiled as they walked past. He watched them take a seat at the bar and smiled to himself. They were two of his favorite customers and not too bad to look at, either.

  “What can I get you two beautiful ladies?” The bartender placed two napkins down on the bar. He smiled, revealing perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth.

  “I’ll have a Bloody Mary, make it a double,” Harley immediately answered.

  “Hard day at the hospital, huh?” She wasn’t going to answer that question either.

  “Jack and Coke for me, but not a double,” Stacy smiled, leaning over just enough to reveal some cleavage, which didn’t go unnoticed. He quickly made their drinks and set out to wipe off the bar and check on patrons at the other end; the perfect chance for Stacy to start in on her single friend.

  “So, are you gonna give ‘hospital hotty’ a chance?”

  “No. I’m married to my career. I’ve spent my life making sure I don’t have to depend on a man financially and I’m not changing my mind about that—ever.”

  “Seriously? Sex isn’t a commitment to being barefoot and pregnant, you know. For such a beautiful woman, you really are a prude.”

  Stacy was one of the few people who knew about Harley’s childhood. But she really couldn’t relate, having grown up in the suburbs behind the proverbial white picket fence.

  “I don’t expect you to understand my need for independence, but I do expect you to respect it.”

  Stacy raised her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, I get it. Anyway…what a trip, that guy dying from a broken nose. That’s a first. Every time I think I’ve seen it all, something new happens.”

  Harley raised her glass in a toast, “I’ll drink to that.” Through their laughter neither noticed the figure in the darkened corner observing them with interest.

  Harley couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the object of someone’s passion. What would it be like to have a man so obsessed with you that he wouldn’t even look at another woman, much less fuck around?

  She’d seen what manwhores the bikers were while she was growing up. The women being played against each other would beat the shit out of each other but then take the whoremonger back like he wasn’t at fault. She still cringed whenever she heard a woman whining those magic words: “You don’t know him like I do.”

  She’d never be any man’s doormat. She had made that decision at a young age and she was tenacious enough to stand by it. Unfortunately, her determination only made her more appealing to the opposite sex – the manwhores, of course. The bad boys.

  They had another round and made small talk, chatting easily about things that didn’t really matter. The kind of things her brain could handle. She was thankful for the pointless conversation.

  “Well, sweets, I’ve gotta run. I’ve got to get to work early tomorrow,” Stacy announced, hugging her friend and saying her goodbyes.

  Harley finished her drink and left a twenty-dollar tip, which didn’t go unnoticed by the handsome bartender. He nodded in her direction and gave her a slow smile as he eyed her with masculine appreciation. The classy kind, nothing that would piss her off.

  “See ya next time, beautiful.”

  “Ha, thanks. I don’t feel so beautiful in these scrubs.”

  “You wear ‘em well.” He winked as he slipped the generous tip into his pocket and turned away. He looked over his shoulder at her. “Seriously, thanks for the tip. You really know how to endear yourself to a guy counting on tips to pay the bills.”

  “No problem. If anybody understands making ends meet, it’s me.”

  She stepped out into the night air and took a few steps toward her car, digging around in her purse for her keys. She didn’t see King until she looked up to find him leaning against the passenger door of her car, his arms crossed. His arrogant smirk almost concealed the heated, accusing look in his eyes. But not quite.

  Ignoring him, she strode past him around the front of the car and made to unlock the driver’s door. Before she could release the lock and open the door, King grabbed her arm. He took her mouth without mercy, working her over with his lips and tongue, ravishing, taking, and exploring her without restraint. This time she kissed him back. Maybe the liquor had lowered her inhibitions, but she didn’t care.

  “C’mon,” he said, taking her elbow in a firm grip as he pulled her away from her car and began walking her toward his.

  “Whoa, whoa, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped, digging in her heels against his insistent grip.

  “You’re going home with me.”

  “No, I’m not!”

  “Yeah…you are,” he countered, clearly irritated. “You’re too buzzed to drive. C’mon, I’ve already got someone coming to get your car.”

  “I’m not leaving my car unlocked.”

  He smirked, giving her that lopsided lazy grin that meant nothing but trouble. “No worries, darlin’. I’ve already made a duplicate of your car key and your house key. You really should think twice about that magnetic key holder you have behind your left front tire. Now, be a good girl and come with me. I promise I won’t hurt you; at least, not without bringing you great pleasure.”

  King took his time getting them both settled in the front seats of his van. As he pulled her seatbelt taut, he leaned in close to her and let his forearm brush against her breasts. Her nipples quickly pebbled in response to the contact, the pointy tips dragging against his arm through the thin fabric of her scrubs.

  With his left hand resting on her thigh, he leaned back and placed his right forearm along the seatback, just behind her shoulder. With her strapped in and caged by his body, he let his gaze drop to the main attraction beneath her shirt, enjoying the view as her nipples puckered impossibly tighter. Fuck, it was like they were reaching out, straining to get to him.

  The silence was broken by a low growl that he realized too late was coming from him. He needed move away and drive her to his place. Just lean back, King. This is not how you typically operate. Rein it in.

  Without warning, he leaned down and sucked on a nipple through the thin fabric of her scrubs, sucking as he opened his mouth wide to take in as much of her flesh as he could. He lingered there, letting the tip of his tongue dance as he savored the texture of her lacy bra cradling her breast beneath the
drenched fabric of her top.

  Harley gasped harshly at the outrageously intimate contact with this man she hardly knew. The intake of air inadvertently pushed her breast deeper into his welcoming mouth and he groaned against her flesh. Her nipple tightened nearly to the point of pain, rubbing against the roof of his ravenous mouth as he devoured her like a starving man.

  When he finally pulled away, he did so reluctantly, lingering long enough to pull her pebbled flesh slowly between his teeth. “Fuck,” he muttered between ragged breaths, then he straightened and started the engine, leaving his disheveled passenger speechless. Her eyes were soft and unfocused as she looked out the window. King, on the other hand, struggled to keep his eyes on the road when all he wanted to do was look at her.

  As the streets of downtown Louisville passed by in a blur, Harley clenched her thighs together and discreetly shifted in her seat. A strange calm settled over her and this time she knew she had no desire to fight the enigmatic stranger who seemed determined to insert himself into her life.

  Chapter Forty Two

  Victor marveled at how Valentina’s body always accepted him so perfectly. He couldn’t get enough of her. If he could crawl inside her and join his whole being to hers it still wouldn’t be enough. This woman filled a place in him no other woman had ever discovered. He knew he had never loved before and he would never love again—not after Valentina. To lose her would be worse than death.

  “You’re one of us now.” He ground his hips against her in smooth circles, moving forcefully inside her. His eyes never left hers, conveying without a doubt the sincerity of what he was saying. That he would not be deterred. That he was taking her. Claiming her. Because that was how she made him feel, like an overexcited stallion being driven to the brink of madness by a mare that refused to surrender.

  He plunged into her body relentlessly, touching and stroking every inch of her, inside and out. If it took a lifetime, he would allay her fears and show her that this new life with him was where she belonged. Being inside her wasn’t about marking her anymore, now it was the equivalent of beating on his chest and owning her like no other man ever had or ever would.

  She looked up at him, searching his face. It made him feel like he was melting into her. Her voice was quiet but her words rang true. “I love you.”

  “You say that now,” he rasped, “but you’ll be pissed at me again soon enough. Then you’ll hate me.”

  Valentina closed her eyes at his words, shaking her head as her breaths became little more than mindless, shuddering gasps of air. Her back arched up toward him and stayed suspended there for a seemingly endless moment as she came, groaning long and low with pleasure. With a harsh intake of air, she rode out the orgasm, rocking her hips against the frantic, hungry lunges of Victor’s swollen, searching cock.

  “No, no, I won’t,” she cried incoherently, gulping for air and pulling his head down so that his forehead was pressed to hers. “Love you…Victor, I love you…I do…”

  Once again, he was sucker punched, weakened and yet somehow strengthened by three simple words uttered when her defenses were down and she was at her most vulnerable. Using his thighs to spread her legs even wider, he sank his cock down deep and hard on a decisive thrust, smiling to himself when she cried out.

  “I love you too, baby,” he groaned against her neck and rolled his hips in and out of her snug, velvety sex. “Oh, how I love you, mi amor. You are the light that shines in the blackness of my night. You are my North Star, always leading me home. I need you. I need to know you’ll always be here.”

  “Being with you is as natural and necessary to me as breathing. I’m here to stay.”

  He laughed softly against her neck because he knew the fiery love-hate dynamic wasn’t going to cool between them – hell, he welcomed it. Valentina never came to him easily, she always made him work for it, made him earn it. And there was nothing in this world better than fucking Valentina when she was pissed off. That greedy pussy of hers used him up so hard and so well that his cock was ruined for anyone else. He had no complaints.

  He considered her for a long moment, then nodded softly. He tenderly brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, then placed a finger over her lips. “Shhh, no more talking.”

  No, he would need to apply himself if he was going to get her fully on board with the marriage his father had promised him. He was tired of waiting. He wanted it all. Now.

  He raised up on his elbows, his thrusts more urgent now. The broad head of his cock stroked her inner walls perfectly, bringing her to another breathless orgasm before he crashed into her a final time, his body quaking as he found his release deep within her.

  He rolled over to rest on his back next to her, taking a minute to let his breathing get back to normal and his heartrate settle down. She draped herself across his chest, pressing soft kisses on his deliciously slick skin. He stroked her hair, talking more to himself than to her. “He’ll never bother you again.”

  Simple words, yes. But she had already seen two people killed in the short time she’d been here. Was everybody inducted into this family’s bloodstained membership so quickly, or did potential wives get special treatment, being thrown headfirst into the cartel? Was it a particularly gory rite of passage, maybe?

  There was one thing she knew for sure, though: woe unto anyone who threatened her because Victor wouldn’t stop until they were dead. That should have made her feel safe, not a care in the world. But she had also learned that love meant risk. Love could destroy you. These were the things that Victor couldn’t control, no matter how much he wanted to. And she wanted to earn her place in the family, in the cartel. She wouldn’t be anyone’s trophy wife. No gilded cages for her.

  She had a lot to think about before she could give herself over to this man completely, to stand by his side without reservation, without fear. Victor was right; along the way she’d second guess herself, she’d fight him tooth and nail. But that didn’t change her truth, their truth…

  “Love you so much, Victor,” she said on a yawn.

  He chuckled and pulled her closer to his chest. He took a deep, satisfying breath before dipping his chin down to bring her into his line of vision, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I know. And I love you.”

  “How did he do it, Victor? King did it, right?”

  “Let’s just say he brought a friend along to help. Unfortunately, he left a witness. A nurse.”

  That got her attention. She raised up on an elbow, a look of grim determination on her face. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “If anyone has anything to fear, it’s that nurse. But she won’t talk. By now King knows more about her than she knows about herself. Nobody’s secrets are safe when he starts digging around. Secrets…we all have them. And within those secrets is where we find our security. The secrets that really count are the ones we’re willing to do anything within our power to keep hidden. The nurse is no different.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said in a deceptively soft voice. “Because if you aren’t and she runs her mouth, I’ll put a bullet between her eyes to protect my family.”

  The brutal sentiment brought the caveman in him to full attention. Moving with the practiced ease of a predator, he moved over her, blanketing her body with his own as he surged inside her on a powerful thrust.

  “You know, there was a time,” he murmured against her lips, “when I worried about whether you were ready for life in the cartel. But now? I’m worried about whether the cartel is ready for you.”

  Epilogue

  Victor cradled Valentina’s face in trembling hands, kissing her with all the fervor of a man seeing his son’s face for the first time. The doctor smiled indulgently as he moved the ultrasound tool over her pregnant belly.

  On the computer screen was the image showing every detail of the new family member who would be introduced to the Ramirez family in less than three months.

  His son.

  “He
looks like me.” Victor beamed with pride, his eyes shining as he stared at the screen. Everything in him wanted to hold his son in his arms and not just see him on an ultrasound screen. He couldn’t wait to meet him, couldn’t wait to be a father.

  Valentina couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, please, Victor. You can’t possibly tell that yet.” The look on her husband’s face was one of pure bliss and she knew they would share the memory of this moment for the rest of their lives.

  The intensity of their life together had caused them to bond deeper and faster than most couples. Death was the only thing powerful enough to separate them and she wondered if even that could. If Victor died today, she knew he would still be with her and in her. No matter what, he would always be with her in the form of his son, Ricardo Victor Ramirez III. He would carry on the name of his father and grandfather with pride. That precious name was the gift his father would bestow on his firstborn son.

  “Hey…it’s 3D, baby, I can see everything.” Victor’s voice cut through her thoughts.

  “Okay, whatever you say.” She directed her attention toward the doctor. “These ultrasounds have really come a long way.”

  “Yes, they have. Speaking of that, it looks like your son is going to be a big baby, just like his dad. It’s likely that you’ll need a C-section.” Dr. Trainor glanced at Victor and asked, “Do you still want to be in the delivery room? I’ve got to tell you it can be pretty graphic.”

  The look in Victor’s eyes was so intense the doctor found it difficult to meet his gaze and busied himself instead with turning off the machine and tidying up his supplies.

  “Nothing short of death would stop me from being with my wife to welcome our son into the world.”

  “Good, that’s what I like to hear,” Dr. Trainor replied with a nod. He had, of course, heard rumors about the Ramirez family and he believed what he’d heard. Even his friends and colleagues had been curious about the cartel rumors. Some had gone so far as to say they’d be scared to deliver a Ramirez baby because if anything went wrong it would cost the doctor his life. He’d been pushing that fear away for months now. It wasn’t like he could say, ‘Sorry, I can’t deliver a gangster’s baby, ma’am, you’ll have to go somewhere else’.