Reaching Rico (The Adamos Book 5)

by Mia Madison

  The hammering sounds again and the gravel of Rico’s voice comes through the door. He’s barely raised it, but the sound carries clearly. “Mickey, open the fuckin’ door or I’ll take this house apart with my bare hands.”

  I fling it open so hard it bangs against the wall. “Go to hell.”

  Rico takes in my clothing — nothing but a nightshirt — and looks away again. “Put some clothes on.”

  “Fuck you.”

  A muscle jumps in his jaw. “We’re havin’ this conversation, one way or another. You leave me standin’ out here and I’ll rip this door off its hinges.”

  He would, too. I step aside, and he comes in and shuts the door behind him. “Put some clothes on,” he says again. “You’re freezing.”

  I am, but I’m not about to admit it. Folding my arms across my torso, I retort, “Fuck off.” I’ve cursed more today than I do in a typical year, but anger is my only defense for the pain scalding me.

  His face darkens. “Do I need to go find your bedroom and get you some fuckin’ clothes?”

  “What you need to do is say whatever you’re going to say so you can get the fuck out of my house!”

  He takes a step toward me; I jerk back. And Rico goes very still.

  Dropping his head, he rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he says softly. “Will you please go put on some fuckin’ clothes, or a robe, or something?”

  It’s the please that gets to me. I go to my bedroom and pull on some sweats; when I get back, he hasn’t moved. Manners kick in and I say stiffly, “Would you like to sit down?”

  He doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I read the note on your roses.” When I don’t respond, he goes on. “Wolf told me he saw you with Dani last night.”

  “I was going to tell you.” I hate that my voice sounds weak and strained. “But you were so busy staying as far away from me as you could, I never got the chance.”

  “Okay. But at the time that grease stain was hassling you, you’d let me believe something different.”

  Grouchy Rico I can handle, but reading between the lines here, I didn’t just piss him off; I wounded him. And that kills me. “I’m sorry. The roses weren’t my idea; Dani did that on her own.”

  Sinking down onto the sofa, I rest my head in my hands. “I thought making you jealous might make you stop pretending. I never meant to hurt you.”

  There’s a long pause before Rico says quietly, “Gotta get back to work. Get dressed and I’ll give you a ride in.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I’m not looking at him — I can’t — but the silence in the room grows tense again. “You quittin’ on me?”

  “You humiliated me, Rico. In front of all those people. How can I go back there?”

  I expect anger, arguments, orders. Instead, he says, “Before you started at Revved, none of the girls ever worked the garage for more than a few days.”

  My head comes up. “What?” That makes no sense. “Why not?”

  “Because of me.”

  Still not making sense. “I don’t understand. You were … mean to them?” I can’t believe that the man who was ready to beat up a customer on my behalf would have mistreated an employee.

  “No, babe. I was just me.”

  15

  Not In This Life

  My heart starts pounding. He called me babe. I don’t dare speak; anything I say might interrupt whatever’s happening inside him right now.

  “Some of them,” he says, “decided they wanted to be in my bed. If they made a play for me, they were out. They could work the parts store or the café, but not the garage.”

  He blacklisted women for flirting with him? Oh my god. “The rest of them,” he says, “asked to be transferred. Or they quit.”

  I stare at him, bewildered. “But why?”

  Rico’s still standing. Maybe he’s afraid he’d break our furniture if he sat on it. There’s something in his face I can’t read, something that makes me want to weep for him.

  “I scared them.”

  I can’t imagine being scared of Rico, not really scared. And enough to quit a job? What the hell? “But … you said you weren’t …”

  “Never raised my voice to them. Didn’t have to. They saw. What was inside me.”

  Frankie’s words come back to me. “Inside you. Are you trying to tell me you were some kind of … monster?”

  He doesn’t disagree. “Got a lot of darkness in me, babe.”

  “Rico—”

  “Since you came, it’s been better.”

  I stop breathing. Holy shit. “Rico,” I whisper.

  “You been leachin’ it away. Bit by bit.”

  I want to cry, want to throw myself in his arms, but his stance — arms folded, eyes shadowed — is too forbidding after what happened earlier. “How am I … doing that?”

  The words seem to be dragged from him. “Just you bein’ there. I can look over and see that you’re okay. Settles something inside me.”

  Oh my god. I’m trying so hard not to cry, but my voice comes out ragged. “Then why are you fighting this?”

  “Because I’m no good for you.”

  “Bullshit!” The word bursts from me with no warning. A nuclear-strength concrete bunker couldn’t have stopped it.

  Rico’s unmoved. “If I were a good man, I’d send you away. I ain’t.”

  The impossibility of what he’s saying finally crashes in on me. “So you don’t want me to be with anyone else, but you won’t let me be with you.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. “No, Rico. That’s not fair to either one of us.”

  His eyes blaze. “What are you sayin’?”

  “You have to give me a chance.”

  “You can’t handle what I am.”

  “I’ve been handling what you are for four years!” I yell. “I’m not the problem here. You are.”

  “That’s what I’m telling you.”

  “No.” I’m on my feet now, moving toward him. “Not what you are. Whatever you’re hiding from.” His head snaps back. “You don’t need to protect me, Rico. Not from you. Never from you.”

  Every muscle in his body is locked tight, like there’s an earthquake inside him trying to shatter him into pieces and he’s fighting to hold himself together. When he speaks, his voice is like gravel. “You don’t know what you’re askin’.”

  “Then why don’t you show me,” I say softly. “So I can understand.”

  He shakes his head. “I put my hands on you, I’m never letting go.” A shiver runs down my spine. “I will claim you in every way possible. You’ll never be free of me. Not in this life.”

  16

  Forget Vows

  I’m right in front of him, our bodies almost touching. Mine is trembling, but not with fear. “Look at me, Rico. Look at me and see that I’m not afraid.”

  “You should be.”

  “But I’m not.” I edge closer, until we’re only a hair’s breadth apart. “Do it, Rico. Touch me. Take me.”

  Disappointment sears me when he steps back. “Not gonna let you provoke me, Mickey.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just get with the program.”

  Finally, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I get with the program, babe, and that’ll be it. No backing out, no changing your mind.”

  “Yeah, you said that.”

  “I don’t think you’re getting it.”

  “I get it. What you’re not getting is that I’m not afraid of you and your darkness.” Maybe if I keep saying it, it’ll penetrate his armor.

  “That’s ’cause you don’t understand it.”

  I spread my arms out. “So give me a preview. Are you going to flay my skin from my body, inch by inch?”

  “No,” he says, in a tone that tells me I’m pushing my luck.

  “Open my veins and drink my blood?”

  “Mickey—”

  “Are you?”

  “No, babe. Not into blood.”

  “Okay, pr
ogress. Are we talking whips and chains?” He doesn’t answer. “Right. You like pain, Rico?” I move closer. “Do you have a dungeon in your house?”

  His eyes flash. “What do you know about that shit?”

  “I may be innocent — as in inexperienced — but I’m not ignorant.” I’m right up next to him again. “You’re not going to sully my purity. Did it ever cross your mind that maybe the reason I settle you is that you know, deep inside, I’m the person you should be getting kinky with?”

  A muscle moves in his jaw. “When I first met you, you were sixteen, for fuck’s sake. So far off limits you needed your own zip code.”

  “So you knew. From the start. But you shoved it all down and locked it away because I was a kid and you had to protect me.” I hold out a hand, curled just above his arm, not quite touching. “Rico … I’m not a kid anymore.”

  His eyes are burning. “Last chance, doll. Forget vows. We ever stand up in a church, it’ll only be puttin’ a bow on what’s already been done.”

  I shudder with anticipation as he continues. “This is it, right here, right now. You ready to give up your independence and let me take over your life?”

  It’s a little bit scary, put that way, and he means it to be. Even now, he’s trying to take care of me. I stare into his eyes and let the words come, just as if I were taking those vows. “I am.”

  17

  Eye Of The Beholder

  With that, the earthquake finally strikes, four years of fortifications crumble into dust, and the unrestrained power of Rico Adamo pours forth. He picks me up, one hand under my ass, the other curving around the back of my neck. My legs wrap around him just as our mouths meet.

  It’s like plugging into a live electrical circuit. Every cell in my body lights up, vibrating with heat and hunger. I want to devour him.

  What I lack in experience I more than make up in raw need. I dig my fingers into his scalp, holding him to me. My mouth opens to his instinctively, and he kisses me until I’m breathless, my panties drenched, my lips swollen.

  Our mouths still fused, he walks us through the house, and I point blindly in the direction of my bedroom. When we get there, Rico looks around for the source of the music. I point to my computer, and he carries me over so I can turn it off.

  Once the room is quiet, he pins me against the wall with his hips long enough to peel off my sweatshirt. Hoisting me up so my chest is level with his head, he clamps his mouth over one breast, sucking me through the silky fabric of my bra. “Oh, god,” I moan.

  When he uses his teeth, I hiss, my hips jerking. My body doesn’t want gentleness. It wants Rico. Every rough inch of him.

  “Pants,” he orders, and shifts his hold so he’s got both hands on my waist and I’m hanging in the air. He switches his attention to my other breast, licking and sucking and biting while I shove my sweats down, then kick until they fall off.

  When I’m naked except for my undergarments, he gets one forearm under my ass again. “Pull your bra down. Show me those tits.” I work the cups down under my breasts, and he feasts his eyes on me. “Beautiful, babe.”

  He works his free hand between us, inside my panties, and cups me. “Fuck,” he says, eyes closed, resting his head against me. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

  The heel of his hand presses against my clit, and pleasure jolts through me. His mouth claims one of my breasts again, sucking hard, then harder, and then his finger drills inside me.

  “Oh, fuck, Rico.” He works another finger in, and I gasp as he stretches me. When he starts to pump his fingers in and out of my tight channel, my head goes back. “Fuck. Fuck yes.”

  “Look at me,” he orders. I open my eyes and lock gazes with him as he goes faster and faster, one powerful arm holding me up while the other drives me mad with pleasure. The incredible friction of his fingers in my pussy has white-hot sensation building, spreading out from my core and then back again, pressure building, gathering, coiling tighter and tighter until it explodes.

  “Fuck!” The orgasm is so intense that my head snaps back and bashes into the wall. I clamp around him until he has to stop, wave after wave of pleasure rolling over me.

  The slightest movement of his fingers sends me off again. Finally he pulls them free, and despite having had what feels like eighty gazillion climaxes, I’m still horny as hell.

  Rico looks over his shoulder at the bed. “That ain’t gonna hold the both of us.”

  I have to smile. My comfy old bed is fine for me, but it does look like it would snap in two if it were used for anything more vigorous than sleeping. “Yeah, I think we’d break it.”

  His eyes gleam. “You still with me?”

  “Uh-huh.” Do I mind if he fucks me up against the wall for our first time together and my first time ever? No. Not one bit.

  He sets me down and starts to undress. My mouth literally waters as he strips off his t-shirt to reveal the rippling muscles beneath. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  His mouth quirks. “Eye of the beholder, babe.” He tosses the t-shirt aside, and I see what it’s always hidden: the edges of a tattoo coming up over his shoulders on either side.

  “What is that?” He turns to show me his back. “Oh my god.”

  It’s a fire-breathing dragon, exquisitely detailed, covering almost all of his back. Parts of the wings are what go up over his shoulders. “That’s amazing.” I trace my hands over it, loving the way his muscles flex at my touch. “How long have you had it?”

  “Got it when I led Firestorm.”

  18

  Ecstasy Again

  My heart stops. “You? Led Firestorm?”

  “Yeah.”

  Clearly, there’s a story there. But now is not the time to ask, because he’s losing his jeans, his back still turned, and his ass. Is amazing.

  I go down to my knees, running my hands up the backs of his thighs, and brush my lips over all that tight, round muscle. The flesh ripples at my touch, and I can’t help sinking my teeth into him.

  “Fuck, babe.”

  “I love your ass.” I bite the other side.

  “If I knew how, doll, I’d write fuckin’ odes to yours.”

  My giggle dies when he turns, and I’m face to face with the indisputable proof that Rico is big all over. Licking my lips, I reach for him.

  “Mickey.” I stop and look up at him, my hand braced on his thigh. “I ain’t touched a woman since the day you walked into Revved.”

  My heart shatters and reforms itself. “Rico. Honey.” I lean forward and kiss his thigh, and his cock jerks. I can’t believe he did that for me. “What do you need? Tell me.”

  “From you? Everything.” One hand tangles in my hair. “I’m demanding at the best of times. Thought I should warn you.”

  “Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I should warn you I have no idea what I’m doing. But you probably knew that.”

  The gleam in his eye mingles heat and amusement. “I’m gonna be fucking your mouth in about thirty seconds, babe. All you gotta do is hang on and try not to gag.”

  My heart speeds up. “Okay then. Well … here goes.” I wrap my hand around him as far as it will go, lean forward, and start to lick.

  He gives me more than thirty seconds while my tongue laves him from tip to root and back again. Only after I crack my jaw open as wide as it can go and close my mouth over the head of his cock does he take over and start to thrust.

  Not gagging turns out to be all but impossible with a man of Rico’s endowments, but I do my best. Given his warning, I expect him to come in my mouth, but he pulls back before he finishes. “Are you sure?” I ask, still on my knees.

  “Better this way.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll explain it another time,” he says drily, and then he’s got me on my back on the bed. In two seconds flat, my panties are gone and his head is between my thighs.

  He eats like a starving man who doesn’t know when he might see another meal. “Rico … oh god.” My head thrashes o
n the covers as he devours me with lips and tongue and teeth, ravenous and relentless.

  I’m already on the edge when he reaches my clit. When his mouth closes over me I arch against him, and he sucks my swollen point while he pushes a finger inside me, then another. “You feel so good,” I groan, and he hums against my clit, making me gasp.

  His fingers curl against a spot that sends pleasure radiating through me. My hips keep bucking, shoving me against his mouth, my body greedy for more. He gives me more, and more, until his teeth graze my clit and I shatter.

  He’s not satisfied with bringing me once. He does it over and over, seeming to know just when to back off and let me recover before he sends me into ecstasy again. When I’m boneless with pleasure, he gets my bra off and picks me up.

  “Don’t have any condoms,” he says. “Gonna have to pull out.”

  “Oh. No, you don’t,” I say in a husky, post-orgasmic voice. Rico shoots me a WTF? look. “I had really bad cramps in high school and I’ve been on the pill ever since.”

  His mouth quirks. “Sorry about the cramps, but thank fuck.”

  The wall is cold against my back. He warms my nipples with his mouth, teasing them until I moan. Finally, he holds me up with one arm again and with his other hand guides himself to my entrance, his gaze intent.

  19

  Keep Counting

  When he starts to push inside me, my nails dig into his shoulders. He has to pull back and press forward bit by bit, even as wet as I am. His eyes never leave my face, and I’m lost in his, in everything I read there.

  I want to say the words I’ve been holding inside for four years, but I’m not sure we’re ready for that. So I whisper his name, my hands framing his face, and I hope he can see the rest of what I’m feeling in mine.