by Mara McBain
Eva whirled but the apology died on her lips when she saw the glowing pregnant woman. She giggled. Kat had come over to help the day they’d painted.
“Get in here, Prego,” Ginny said, awkwardly hugging her best friend around the bags they were both carrying. “Let’s get this stuff in the kitchen, and then we’ll finish unpacking the Durango.”
“No need. The girls are getting the rest,” Kat said, following them as they picked their way through the mess. “It looks like you two bought out the store.”
“They’re spoiled, but like I told Zeke, they’re saving us money by moving in together, and we’ll see it back in rent.”
“Zeke didn’t actually buy that did he?”
“Not really, but does it matter?”
Kat laughed. “It hasn’t this far. Why start now?”
Eva stepped into the utility room with a couple of bags as women flooded the kitchen. Hefting the laundry soap onto the shelf, she listened to their greetings and banter. She toyed with the label on the bleach bottle. These were the gang members’ wives and girlfriends. Recalling the hard faces on the men she had seen, a morbid curiosity tugged at her.
Rocco had never liked her around his business associates’ women. She snorted. She wasn’t sure which term was more ludicrous. Under the expensive suits and designer dresses, they were still thugs and whores. Not that she had been in a position to throw rocks from her glass tower. They might’ve started out on equal footing, but it hadn’t taken Rocco long to make her understand she was every bit as bought and paid for as the girls on the corner.
The last few days spent in an unfurnished bachelor pad had been happier than any in Rocco’s gilded prison. Strangers had shown more care for her needs than he ever had.
“Eva?”
Ginny’s voice yanked her from her pity party. Shoving the bleach up on the shelf, she crumpled the empty bag in her hands. Dashing away a tear, she took a shaky breath and stepped out of her hiding place.
Ginny beamed at her. Expecting a lecture on laziness, Eva almost broke down when the older woman wrapped a motherly arm around her shoulders and addressed the room.
“For those of you who haven’t met her yet, this is Mox’s new girlfriend, Eva.”
The pride in Ginny’s voice was humbling. Eva was overwhelmed by a flood of greetings and introductions. Kat was the only other familiar face, and it was the feisty mama-to-be that stepped in to save her.
“Come on, ladies. We’re all excited Mox finally has a girlfriend, but let’s not chase her away with our enthusiasm.”
Eva giggled and tried to put faces and names together as Kat handed out job assignments like a drill sergeant.
“You’re getting a bit bossy, Prego,” Ginny said, hands going to her hips and eyes narrowing on her best friend.
“Sheath your claws, Gin. I wasn’t trying to steal the queen’s thunder. I was acting as your loyal minion and giving you time to bask in the possibility of having a daughter-in-law that you didn’t want to drown.”
Any tension caused by the pseudo showdown was shattered as the women howled with laughter. Men turned their heads, curiosity evident in their stares. The joke lost on her and with nowhere to hide in the open floor plan, Eva blushed and shrugged helplessly at Mox.
The grin and little wink he gave her made her heart flutter. She dipped her head, busying herself with the new cookware. She so didn’t deserve him.
Eva crammed another empty pizza box into the trash bag and tied off the drawstrings. With so many willing hands, the apartment now looked like a home. The generosity of Mox’s family and friends was touching. She had anticipated everyone clearing out once the boxes were inside and man toys assembled, but they had stayed to help unpack.
Hefting the bulging trash bag, she turned and ran smack into a solid male chest. Big hands encircled her upper arms.
“Excuse me. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tensing.
“That was my fault. Are you okay?”
Eva’s shoulders relaxed a little at Mox’s gentle baritone.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I should watch where I’m going.”
His finger curved under her chin, tilting her face up. She held her breath. Agonizing seconds ticked by. Afraid to meet his gaze she wondered what he was waiting for. The gentle press of his lips wasn’t what she was expecting.
Melting into the kiss, she dropped the bag, fingers curling into the sides of his sweatshirt. Her lungs felt like they were going to explode by the time he lifted his head. Blinking up at him, she took a shuddering breath. His thumb caressed the cheek that moments before had expected a backhand.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
She dropped her lashes, unable to stand the intensity of his pale gaze. Wrapping her fingers in the drawstrings, she nodded.
“I should take this out,” she whispered.
Mox took the bag from her hand. “I’ll get it.”
Not sure what to say, she nodded again. He dropped a kiss on top of her head and walked away.
A yawn split her face. Climbing into the king size bed, Eva sank down into the mattress with a groan of delight. Fresh from the shower, the new sheets were heaven. Pulling the plush blanket and heavy comforter up under her nose, her eyes drifted shut only to fly back open when the mattress shifted.
Mox’s bulk filled the bed. She could feel his heat before he touched her. She smiled in the dark as his hand stroked over her.
“Tired?” he asked.
Exhausted or not, she knew what that question meant.
“Not too tired for you,” she whispered, trying to drudge up a little enthusiasm as she trailed a finger down his chest. A huge yawn ruined the effect. She stared up at him in horror, tears trickling from the corner of her wide eyes.
Mox laughed. “Liar,” he muttered, kissing the tip of her nose. “Go to sleep.”
Eva shook her head, fighting to find her voice. How could she be so stupid? She grabbed at his shoulders as he started to roll away.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted.
“For being tired?” he asked, humor lacing his voice.
“I’m not that tired. Really.”
Mox shook his head and chuckled. Leaning down he pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her nose again.
“I’m not upset, baby. I’m tired too. Go to sleep.”
“Oh God, Mox. Please. I didn’t mean—” A kiss on her lips cut her words short.
“Go to sleep.”
He didn’t give her a chance to argue further, lying back and pulling her into the cradle of his arm. Cheek resting on his chest, she stroked her fingers over his ribs in a silent apology. He caught her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and clasping it to his warm body. She lay quiet until his breathing evened out in sleep. Sending up a prayer, she finally allowed her eyes to drift shut.
Chapter ~ 7
Rocco Soriano rolled his cigarette around the rim of the crystal ashtray. Only the soft slurp of the painted lips wrapped around his cock broke the silence. His dark eyes glittered in the moonlight as he stared out over Lake Erie. Fury thrummed through him. The muscle ticking in his cheek was the only outward sign of his rage. Five days and still there was no sign of Eva.
It wasn’t the first time the bitch had run. A tight smile twisted his thin lips. Run to ground in two short hours, she had been tossed, bound and terrified at his feet. His fingers curled into a fist at the memories flooding his mind. She was a tough little thing. He’d lost track of the number of times she’d lost consciousness, but at the end of a four-hour beating, she had clung to life. Barely. It had taken her weeks to heal, but she had learned her lesson. Or so he had thought.
He ground his teeth. How many times had that defiant gleam in her blue eyes earned her the back of his hand? At one time he had even found her fire amusing. No more. He closed his eyes as he felt his balls tighten. Closing a fist in the whore’s dark hair, he pictured Eva’s beautiful pout wrapped around him. His hips jumped. Planting his feet, he pumped into he
r hot mouth until his lips parted in a silent roar.
He kept his eyes closed as she licked him clean. Softly stroking her long hair, he let his heart beat return to normal. She rocked back on her heels, her job finished. His eyes opened in a lazy slit. She responded to his regard with a self-satisfied smile. Threading his fingers through her dark mane, he pulled her closer. A slow smile spread across his face.
An agonized scream ripped from the girl’s throat as he ground his cigarette out on her sharp cheekbone. The ear splitting shriek shattered the night air with the intensity of an air-raid siren. She twisted away, frenzied in her pain, leaving him holding a fistful of hair. He let the clinging strands float down over her writhing form with a small chuckle and reached for his wine glass.
This time, he would extinguish Eva’s flame, one way or another.
Chapter ~ 8
“Move it or lose it,” Mox snapped, as his brother blocked his progress to his tool box.
“What’s your big rush?” Rhys asked, grinning as he purposely drug his feet.
“No rush.”
“No rush, my ass. Does Eva keep you on that short of a leash?”
“There’s no leash.”
“What happens if you’re a bad boy? No nookie for Mox?”
“Grow up,” Mox said with a sigh and shouldered Rhys out of his way.
“You have it bad, Bro.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous of what? I get all the pussy I can handle.”
“But you put up with Becca to get it,” Mox said with an exaggerated shudder. “Think about the last week. Has Becca ever treated you as well as Eva treats us?” At his brother’s silence Mox nodded. “Exactly. Eva is an angel. Becca is a bitch.”
“Don’t hold back, Moxie. Tell him how you really feel,” Crux said, slapping the big guy on the shoulder on his way to the door.
Rhys flipped the bird to Crux’s back. “Let’s see how the angel handled being left alone all day without you there to kiss her ass.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Mox said, locking his box up. Despite his reassurance to Rhys, he hadn’t liked leaving Eva alone this morning, but he’d had little choice. The storm had robbed them of two days’ pay as it was. Punching out at the old-fashioned time clock, he smiled. He wasn’t working for pocket money and a bike payment anymore. Things had changed in the last week. Besides rent, utilities, and groceries, he had a hot old lady to take care of. Life was definitely looking up.
The mouth-watering aroma of fried chicken hit Mox the moment he stepped in the door. His stomach growled. A visual sweep of the apartment revealed the last of the boxes gone and everything spotless. The TV screen was dark over the cheery gas fireplace. Eva was nowhere in sight. Shucking out of his Carhartt coat, he dropped onto the sturdy bench by the door to unlace his boots.
“You’re home.”
He looked up at the soft words. Eva smiled shyly at him from the hallway arch. Dressed simply in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt in pale blue that clung to her curves, she looked beautiful. He held out his arms. Her teeth sank into the swell of her bottom lip. One foot twisted in uncertainty. He could feel his face warming, knowing he looked like a fool.
Just as he dropped his arms, she crossed the gleaming hardwood. She stopped in front of him, wringing her hands. He frowned. Scanning her face, he winced at the bruises still marring her smooth skin. Was her fear related to the past or the present? The apartment sparkled. Dinner smelled fantastic. She didn’t have access to his bank account yet. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. How many times had he watched Zeke and Ginny play out this scenario?
“What’d you do?” he asked.
Color drained from her face. Her head shook back and forth in adamant denial. Knees shaking, she stepped back from him. All humor fled at her terror, and he stood up, reaching for her.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered as she crumpled to her knees, shoulder hunching to protect her face.
“Sorry for what?” he asked, confusion and hurt warring in his tone.
When she didn’t answer him, he knelt beside her. She flinched from his touch. His hand balled into a fist as he fought the building anger and frustration. Shaking his head, he stood and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator, he took a long drink. The remaining water sloshed as he slammed the bottle down on the island. He leaned against the counter, head in his hands. What the hell had he done wrong?
Draining the rest of his drink, he crushed the bottle before tossing it in the trash. His lips twisted in annoyance at the spill on the countertop, and he swiped his shirt sleeve over it. Looking for an answer, he looked helplessly around the kitchen. Other than the electric skillet full of chicken, it was spotless. Poking at the frying bird with a pair of tongs, his gaze went back to Eva. She hadn’t moved. He sighed.
She trembled at his approach, but he didn’t let it sway him this time. Sweeping her up as easy as a child, he carried her over to the recliner and dropped into it with her in his lap.
“I don’t know what happened today, and, right now, I don’t care,” he said flatly. “All I wanted was a hug.”
Eva surged up, arms wrapping around his neck in a stranglehold of a hug. Startled, he wrapped his arms tighter around her. Hot tears streaked down the side of his neck. His gaze rolled heavenward. He would never understand women. Rubbing a warm circle on her back, he waited. The waterworks continued until the collar on his work shirt clung soggy to his neck. He sighed. Whatever she’d done, it wasn’t worth this.
“Whatever you did, just tell me. We’ll work it out and move on, baby. I’m an easy guy to get along with. Shit, I forgive you, okay?”
If possible, she cried harder. Fear started to worm its way into his mind. He’d offered her a free pass and, still, she was crying. What the hell could be that bad? Burrowing his nose in her hair, he held her and waited.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered with a little hiccup.
“Zeke always says there are only a couple of things a woman can’t be forgiven for, baby. All the rest you can suck or fuck your way out of.”
Eva snorted in laughter, blowing a snot bubble in the process. She looked mortified. He laughed. Shaking his head, he stood and carried her to the kitchen. Settling her on the counter, he awkwardly snagged a roll of paper-towels. Unsure of what to say, he shifted from one foot to the other. Finally he turned away, concentrating on the frying chicken while she pulled herself together.
“Did your dad really say that?”
“Believe it or not, yeah,” Mox said with a chuckle.
“As perverted and sexist as it sounds, Ginny has to find it kind of reassuring,” Eva said, twisting the paper-towel in her hands.
Mox leaned against the island, mulling that one over. “I guess.” He watched her work over that beautiful bottom lip again. “What happened today that you’re worried about?”
“Nothing. I just…” her words stalled, hands fluttering uselessly. “I just wasn’t sure what you wanted, what you were going to do. I never know—knew—what to expect when he walked through the door. I was nervous and just panicked. I’m sorry.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
The question hung between them. Her mouth opened and closed. Dropping her eyes, she wrung the tissue until it shredded in her hands. It was all the answer he needed. Swallowing the bitter truth, he raked a hand over his smooth head. He backed towards the door, not sure where he was going. She watched him in silence, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. Pausing at the door, he tried to think of something to say. He came up empty. He had to get out of there.
Mox stared at Zeke and Ginny’s house. He had come home without conscious decision. Shutting off the ignition, he sat in the silent truck, trying to figure out what to do. The thought of losing Eva made his chest ache. It was scary how quickly he had come to care for her, to love her. Besides Ginny, she was the first woman he couldn’t imagine living without. How did he convince her that he’d sooner rip off his ow
n arm than hurt her?
Rhys would never understand. Dealings with the fairer sex came natural to his brother. Ginny was so protective, she would blindly take his side. He couldn’t risk Eva falling from favor with the queen. That left Zeke. Mox grimaced. The big man was not known for his heart-to-hearts, but on the other hand, he might have some insight into how to deal with a woman.
Mox paused outside the study door. It was closed. He frowned, unsure if he should bother his father. The den was Zeke’s sacred ground within the house. He rubbed at the back of his neck. His damp shirt collar made the decision for him. He knocked.
“Yeah.”
Mox opened the door at Zeke’s rumble. When he hesitated in the doorway, Zeke’s salt-and-pepper brow quirked in question. Mox could practically hear the unspoken question, Well, what the fuck do you want? He had to clear his throat before he could force the words out.
“Can I talk to you?”
Zeke regarded him in silence for a minute, but tossed down his pen.
“Sure. Come on in.”
Claiming one of the large leather chairs in front of Zeke’s desk, Mox searched for the right words. Damn, this was worse than the time he’d had to ask to borrow money for his Harley payment.
“Money, broads, or something bigger?” Zeke asked around his cigar.
“Eva.” Mox admitted, running a hand over his head.
“Do I need to interrogate you, or are you going to spit it out?”
A wry grin twisted Mox’s lips at his father’s gruff humor. “No need for the rubber hose. I’ll confess. Women confuse the shit outa me.”
“You and every other man,” Zeke said with a chuckle. “When you find one that you actually want to try to understand, that’s the one to hold onto.”
“She’s afraid of me.”
“She’d be stupid not to be.”
Mox’s head snapped up in surprise. His jaw worked for a moment as he struggled to rein in the surge of anger and hurt. “Why the fuck would you say that? I wouldn’t hurt her,” he ground out between clenched teeth.