by Shanna Bell
When he passed Glen Park, he took an exit onto a dirt road. He parked in a secluded parking spot, in the back, near a wall of trees. Then he plucked her from her seat, draping her over his lap until she straddled him.
“What are you doing?”
She sounded nervous. Finally.
“You want a rational talk? How is this for rational? I took you out of that room because it hit me that I don’t like it when other men see you naked.”
A blush colored her cheeks. “It’s art class. There’s nothing sexual about it, and—”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“And,” she repeated pointedly, “it’s really none of your business who sees me naked. You’ve been trying to pawn me off to one of your men for days.”
She wasn’t ever going to marry one of his men. In his subconscious, he’d known that. Hell, everyone had known.
“Yeah, about that. Not gonna happen. None of my men will marry you.”
She cast her eyes down. “Please don’t do this. Think about Zoe. She needs me to—”
He lifted her chin. “It won’t happen because they know I will break them if they touch you. So, this is what’s going to happen. You have a choice to make. Either you marry me, or you find someone I don’t know and won’t ever have to see.”
Her eyes widened, but she looked suspicious. “But…?” she asked. “I feel like there’s a catch somewhere. I mean, I already told you that you were my first choice. You declined, profusely. So, what has changed?”
What had changed was that he’d been confronted with what would happen if he didn’t step up. Another man was going to see, taste, and touch all that was Mary. And, yeah, it made him an asshole to consider wrecking up her life just because he wanted to fuck her, but here he was, being an asshole.
“I want you,” he said, and she looked confused. “That can’t surprise you.”
She shrugged. “Half of the time you don’t seem to like me.”
“I’ve never not liked you. I just never wanted you.”
“You’ve lost me.”
Of course he had. He wasn’t making much sense. “I never wanted to be your fucking white knight. Because that’s what you want, what you’re looking for. No, don’t try to deny it. It’s what you deserve, so don’t ever deny or try to downplay it. If I were a good man, I would keep away from you. Like miles away, but I can’t.”
He’d been to Europe for months to track down the fucker who had hurt her, and the distance had hit him hard. He’d come to depend on having her around, even if it was from afar. There was this positive energy around her that he wished he could harness and take into his soul. Keep it in there so maybe, just maybe, it could clean away some of the darkness inside him. He hadn’t taken another assignment that far away again.
“Um… so now what?” She fidgeted on his lap, looking unsure.
He was trying really hard to ignore the fact that underneath his shirt, she was naked. The only thing separating her bare pussy—yeah, he’d peeked—and his cock, was the fabric of his jeans.
“Like I said, now you have a choice to make.” He placed his hands on her thighs, underneath his shirt. “But know this, if you choose me, you will be all mine. There’s no going back. And there will be no marriage of convenience. No sane man would be able to live under one roof with you and not fuck you.” Her face heated up and it probably made him a bastard, but he liked it when she blushed.
“What else? I have a feeling there is more.”
He started drawing circles on her inner thighs. “There is. See, I’m not sure if you know what it’s going to be like between us. I think it’s only fair you get a taste, so you can make the right choice.”
When his finger neared her pussy, her pupils enlarged, but she didn’t pull back. If she had any idea of the things he wanted to do to her, she would probably jump out of the car.
Instead, a determined expression crossed her face. She folded her arms in front of her chest. “So, then give me a taste.”
What she really said was “bring it on.” Little did she know, he loved a challenge. Her being bratty only made him hotter for her.
“I’ve been very laidback and accommodating to you so far,” he said, and ignored her derisive snort. “But that’s over now. You have to know what you’re getting yourself into with me. I’m moody at times. You already know about my PTSD. I have it under control, most of the time, but sometimes I get flashbacks during the night. I swear a lot. I don’t like it when other men touch my woman. And most of all, I control what happens in the bedroom.”
He unbuttoned his shirt until he had bared her breasts. She had small gold hoops through her nipples and he instantly went rock hard. Shit. His woman had a kinky side. How had he not noticed them before? Probably because he’d been too busy covering her up.
“You bad girl...”
Her cheeks flushed. “I got them on a dare with Jazzy.”
“I take it you lost.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Actually, I won.”
He wasn’t even going to ask. His hand went to her nipples, tugging on the piercings and eliciting a gasp from her.
With his other hand, he covered her pussy, and she gripped his shoulders. Flicking a finger over her clit, he started rubbing her. She was wet, so deliciously wet, that he slowly pushed the tip of a finger inside her.
He didn’t have to say a word. She started moving on her own accord. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it seemed as if she was made for him.
“You get what I’m saying, Mary?”
Her half-closed lids sprung open. “Yes. You just gave me a list of reasons of why not to marry you. I haven’t heard the deal-breaker yet.”
Then maybe he hadn’t been clear enough. He didn’t want there to be any surprises. He pushed his finger deeper inside her core, making her eyes go wide. Then he added another digit, much slower this time so she could adjust to his thick fingers. Her look turned strained as he started pumping into her tight hole.
“I like to fuck,” he said. “I imagine I’m going to like fucking you, a lot. Once you’re in my bed, there will be no barriers between us. Nothing is off the table. I’m not a twenty-four-seven vanilla kind of guy. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Her body moved slower now, still trying to adjust to his fingers. His thumb brushed her little jewel and he could feel her getting more slick. It would make the finger fucking easier for her. He didn’t like hurting her. At least, not like this.
“I’m in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere, sitting on top of you in nothing but a shirt, while you have your fingers inside me. I think I got the message,” she said dryly. “So, you’re not a missionary kind of guy. What else do I need to know?”
“Didn’t say I don’t like missionary. I just like to spruce things up whenever I feel like it.” He was silent for a beat. “Or with whatever I feel like.”
He could see the interest spark in her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t so innocent after all. A part of him wanted to rip out the heart of any other man thinking about touching her, while another part hoped she was more experienced. The reason was just as selfish. If she was used to fucking, he could go hard on her very fast. There would be no need to ease her into things.
“That sounds interesting,” she croaked out.
He had to know. “Are you a virgin?”
She suddenly found the tree next to their car very fascinating. “Why do you ask?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question. Are you?”
“What if I am?” When he scowled, she added, “Yes, I’m a virgin. Why does that matter? It takes me time before I’m comfortable enough with a man to…” She made a gesture with her hands, indicating their position. “With Josh, it was just never… I mean, he tried, but I…”
He let go of her breast and cupped her cheek. “It matters because I don’t want to hurt you. I’m a big guy. If I don’t prepare you right, you’d be walking bowlegged for a week.”
She laughed, and the sudd
en tension broke up immediately.
“We can’t have that,” she said with a gleam in her eyes. “What would I tell Zoe?”
Of course; Zoe. The reason Mary wanted to marry him. She needed a protector for the cute, little girl, and he couldn’t blame her. For a fleeting second, he didn’t like the thought that she was marrying him because of that reason, though he wasn’t sure why. After all, his only reason to go along with it was because he wanted her in his bed. He’d do good to remind himself of that. They were both getting what they wanted out of this deal, which was only fair.
“So, what’s your answer, hermosa? Be sure. Be, very, very sure.” Because once he had his ring on her finger, he wasn’t ever letting her go.
She bent over to him, giving him the softest kiss. “Since you’ve asked so nicely, yes, Hector Diaz, I’ll marry you.”
CHAPTER 9
MARY
It turned out that Hector agreeing to marry her didn’t automatically mean everything was settled between them. There was no sunset to drive into together. No sappy Hollywood moment, in which he suddenly discovered that his love for her had been there all along.
Instead, she suspected Hector was avoiding her. At first, she thought he was just busy, but it had been two days since he’d asked her to marry him—kind of—and she hadn’t heard from him since. Reason enough for a pit in her stomach to form. If he had changed his mind, she’d rather have him tell her now than being left at the altar. Of course, technically there would be no altar to be left at, but him not showing up at the courthouse would have the same painful result.
She had spoken to Zoe on the phone this morning, had cried a little after that—okay, a lot—then she’d spoken to Mrs. Wilson, casually mentioning that she was getting married to Hector, her long-time boyfriend. At least in her fantasies, she’d pictured him like that. Now, she was back at Diaz Security, on her way to Hector’s office.
Everything was happening so fast, yet not fast enough. She still had a million things to take care of, so she could present a unified and stable front to the judge.
She greeted Jess and Beau, who were having a chat at the reception’s desk, when Hector rounded the corner.
There was no greeting with words; the man just pulled her against his chest and gave her a kiss that made her toes curl.
“That was not the welcome I was expecting,” she said honestly.
He cocked a brow. “Don’t like it?”
“Love it.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m used to you being more grouchy around me. Oh, and keeping a distance.”
“Yeah, well, you’re mine now. I can touch you whenever I want.”
It was said as a given, and it warmed her belly. Of course, that might also be her raging hormones after that lingering kiss.
Beau gave her a thumbs up from behind Hector’s back and she felt herself flush. He was the prettiest man she had ever seen and, just like the others, had been so understanding when she told him about her predicament. He’d even offered to marry her should things not work out with her grouchy wolf.
Hector grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
A little surprised, she followed him outside and into a car. For some reason, she had expected him to blow her off again. After all, wasn’t that why she was here in the first place?
A few minutes after he drove away, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Are you sorry?”
“About what?”
“Us.” She looked away. “You’ve been avoiding me ever since we agreed to get married.”
When he didn’t deny it, the hollow feeling in her stomach grew. She didn’t pay any attention to where they were going until he parked in front of a big brownstone with a huge front yard.
Hector finally broke the silence. “Yeah, I’ve been avoiding you.”
But what about that kiss?
Maybe he just likes to liplock.
Remember that guy in college who just loved painting your toes?
“Thank you for being honest with me,” she croaked.
She needed to make some calls. Her head went a million miles an hour, thinking of what was very likely to happen when she showed up before the judge without a husband on her arm. Especially after she’d told Mrs. Brown that she was engaged. Oh, God, the woman might think that she had lied, or that she was a flighty woman, getting engaged and breaking up in just a few days.
“Don’t thank me yet. You have no clue why I’ve been avoiding you. Come on, let’s go.”
She blinked. “Go where?” Didn’t he just break up with her?
He frowned. “To go see the house, of course. The realtor is already waiting.”
Realtor? It was only now that she saw the “For Sale” sign in the yard.
The next half an hour—meeting the realtor, going through every room in the house—was a revelation.
The realtor, a petite woman in a suit, concluded the tour, ending in the opulent kitchen. “I understood that you are on a clock and don’t have weeks to wait for furniture. The mansion comes completely furnished, just like you’ve requested,” she said, and stepped out of the room to give them privacy.
“So, what do you think?” Hector’s face was impassive, not showing any signs of whether he liked the place or not.
The house was mausoleum style; marble statues in the front, an impeccable garden, a steel kitchen that could house a small army.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, but um… I can’t afford this.”
“Didn’t think you could.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Can’t show that CPS woman my bachelor pad. It’s a dump. I’m hardly there, so I never cared what the place looks like. Anyway, figured we should look for a place more… family like.”
“Oh.” That was incredibly generous of him, but she didn’t want him to put himself in debt like that.
Suddenly his scowl returned. “What did you mean by thinking that you gave me the wrong idea?”
“Nothing.”
“In fact, why did you assume I thought you were going to buy this place to begin with?”
This could become really embarrassing, really fast. “I like the hardwood floors.”
He cupped her cheek. “Answer my question.”
Fine. If this was going to work, she should be completely honest anyway. “It’s just that, people seem to think that because of my last name, I’ve inherited a ton of money. When my cousin married a billionaire, it became worse. People think you become rich just by association. Except, there is no Rossi family fortune left. You’ve seen where I live. It’s not temporary. There is no big trust fund that will kick in when I reach a certain age. I have a small trust fund left, which I use to pay rent, since teaching class two days a week doesn’t cover all my expenses.” Maybe she should have made that clear from the get-go. “Maybe we can get a smaller place in—”
He dropped onto a kitchen chair and pulled her in between his legs. “I can afford this place.”
“You can?”
“Yeah.”
“How?” It was probably impolite to ask, but Hector wasn’t exactly Mr. Polite himself, and she was curious. She knew he had his own security firm but surely that didn’t make enough to buy a high-end mansion. Also—and she didn’t want to admit this aloud—she hoped that he didn’t make his money with dubious extracurricular activities. She grew up in the mobster world. A world that had cost her father his life, and had her growing up behind big fences, surrounded by bodyguards. When her grandfather died, she’d hoped to have left all that behind.
“I do odd jobs for the mafia,” he whispered. At her panicked look, he grinned. “You should see your face.”
This earned him a thump to the shoulder. Which, of course, hurt her more than him, since the man seemed rock-hard all over.
“Not funny. I mean, I know you don’t exactly have a safe job, like an accountant, but odd jobs for the mafia, really?”
“My firm does well. In fact, more than well. I also own stock in Detta Enterp
rises. So, you were hoping for an accountant, huh?”
“I was hoping for you,” she said honestly. He wasn’t ready yet for her to profess her love—it would probably make him bolt—but reminding him that he was her first choice surely wouldn’t do any harm.
His hands went under her top, his fingers brushing under her breasts. Their silent stare-off was interrupted by the realtor who walked back in through the patio door.
She looked at them expectantly. “Have you made a decision?”
Hector pulled his hands back and looked at her questioningly.
“It’s a nice place, though a bit big,” Mary said.
“I thought you were used to that?“
True. She’d lived in mansions all her life. “You forget where I live now. I’ve gotten used to my tiny place.”
“You’ve lived there for all of three months.”
“I adjust quickly.”
His eyes raked over her body. “God, I hope so.”
The way he looked at her made her heart speed up. “Why do I feel like we’re not talking about living arrangements anymore?”
“Because we’re not.”
When the realtor cleared her throat, Mary sent her an apologetic smile. Hector didn’t seem to care that the poor woman was drowning in their sex talk.
“I’m not really sure about this place,” she said, since Hector seemed to leave the choice up to her.
The realtor showed them two more mansions, neither of which appealed to her. She was afraid Hector’s patience would be running thin by now, but he surprised her. He was as chill as three hours ago. Still, it wasn’t fair to him, or the realtor, to have them running around town like this.
When they left the last monstrous mansion, she stepped up to the woman.
“Do you have smaller places to show? Less, um... flashy? Perhaps closer to where Hector works, but more outdoorsy?”
This stopped both Hector and the realtor in their tracks.
He immediately came to her side. “Baby, we’ve talked about this. I can afford this place.”