by Shanna Bell
Her fingers trailed over the tattoo on his chest. It was a bald eagle clutching the world in his talons, surrounded by tribal art and “USMC.”
She hadn’t gotten the chance yet to explore him the way she wanted. To explore every dent, every scar on his body.
Luckily, she had the rest of her life to do just that. She was actually married to Hector Diaz, the sexiest man alive. How had she gotten this lucky? For years, she had seemed cold toward men. Afraid of intimacy. As a child, her mind had shut down at what had almost happened the night her uncle had sneaked into her room. Over the years, she hadn’t wanted to deal with it. There was no place for shame like that in her grandfather’s house. One did not speak about vile things that could damage the family name. So, she had kept it inside. But bad memories had a way of dripping into a bucket until one day, that famous last drop fell.
Eventually, she had sought help. It had taking extensive therapy, but she’d given the horror of what had happened a place, and had moved on. Right now, she felt at total peace with herself. She was right where she wanted to be.
Her finger trailed over his pecs, outlining the tattoo that was a reminder of his time as a Marine. Hector was a loyal, honorable man. He deserved to be happy. Whatever it was that had him and his brother—crime lord or not—drift apart, she hoped they could work it out. She didn’t want it to come bite him in the ass one day. She was going to keep him safe and sound, both physically and mentally.
Her hand trailed up to his navel and her eyes widened when she saw his morning wood, growing by the second.
“Morning,” she said softly.
He tugged at the sheet covering her breasts. “Don’t hide your breasts from me. I love them.”
“I’ve noticed.” He really was a breast man. He’d woken her during the night just to nibble on her breasts until he’d finger fucked her again.
Something in his tattoo caught her eye. In the intricately woven design, she discovered a date and the text RIP. It was from almost a year ago. She wondered who he had honored on his chest.
Hector placed his hand on hers, his eyes narrowing at the question in her eyes.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she told him. She could see how the memory hurt him. The last thing she wanted was to add to his pain.
He took a deep breath. “It’s the date a guy from my unit, John Decker, died. We didn’t get to take his body home. He died in action, the way he always said he wanted to go out, but it doesn’t make it any easier. He didn’t have any family, except for a brother in the Army he always talked about.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t just let him fade away, you know? Figured he had to be remembered by more than one person.”
In her eyes, he was a hero, always would be. The military had been a big part of his life and even though she had an inkling of what he must’ve been through, in reality, she’d probably barely scratched the surface.
So, she offered him solace the only way she knew how; by kissing him, determined to cast away the sorrow in his eyes.
He pulled her over him until her breasts swayed above his mouth.
“Put your hands on the headboard.”
The second she’d steadied herself, he palmed her breasts, pressed them together, and brought them to his mouth.
“Mercy.”
His reverent whisper opened up her chest and set loose a jar of butterflies to her stomach.
He molded his hands around a globe and tried to put as much of it in his mouth as he could. When he released one wet breast from his mouth, his teeth latched on to a piercing. He tugged on them, right before he bit the hard peak, eliciting a moan from her.
She closed her eyes as she found a nice spot for her ass, right on his dick. It poked her butt, asking for attention, so she grinded against him. Her grinding became more frantic as she felt herself getting more wet.
“One day, I’m gonna fuck you between your tits.”
Her clit was throbbing, demanding attention. This was torture. Nothing but sweet torture.
But two could play that game. She may not have his experience, but she did have his passion and want. Oh, had she want. While he devoured her breast, sucking, and nibbling the sensitive flesh, she put a hand on his shaft. Stroking him.
Finally, after what had felt for an eternity of exquisite torture, he let go of her breast with a pop. “You still sore?”
“A little.”
He hauled her up. “Straddle my face. I’m gonna eat you.”
She held on to his shoulders, while she hovered above him.
He sat up against the headboard, hands on her ass, pulling her on to his mouth and started licking. All too soon, his tongue started over her pussy, trailing a path from her core, dipping into her navel, and back. Then he speared his tongue inside her and started sucking.
Mary couldn’t hold her moan in any longer. He started to push her lower body on his mouth. Only when she couldn’t hold her own weight any longer and came, did he let her go.
She collapsed on top of him and he tucked her to his side.
“Good morning, chica.”
“Morning,” she murmured back as she wrapped her hand around his thickness.
He hissed. “Not a good idea right now with you being sore. Don’t start something I can’t finish.”
Perhaps she should heed his warning. Yep, that would be the sensible thing to do. Except, he made her feel empowered, as if she could do anything.
“I want to do for you what you did to me,” she confessed.
He played with a nipple, while she slowly jacked him off. “You ever done that before?”
“No, and um… I’m afraid that, well you know.”
“You’re afraid that you’ll suck at sucking me off?”
She retaliated by strengthening her hold on him. “Any more smart comments?”
He winced. “Maybe not while you’re holding my dick.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Since you’re determined to learn why don’t you get to work? I’ll tell you if you’re any good.”
Challenge accepted. She scooted down until her face was next to his dick, her hand not leaving him. It was odd feeling his hardness in her hand. Odd and exhilarating. Because, for all his laidback and relaxed attitude, she could see sweat form on Hector’s brow. It gave her a sense of power she’d never had in his presence before.
Her first tentative lick over the head of his cock made him jump. His nostrils flared, and his muscles tensed. Then she gave another lick and another, while holding on to his root.
“Suck on the head,” he ordered.
That was the beginning of more directions. She followed every one of them to a T, enjoying every second. She couldn’t get all of him inside her mouth without gagging, but she enjoyed giving it a try.
Right when she was debating letting him come inside her—soreness be damned—their doorbell rang.
“What the fuck.” Hector growled.
After a few seconds, it rang again. Who would be visiting them, the morning after their wedding?
“I’ll go check who it is,” she said, giving a pointed look at his hardness. “I don’t think you should go downstairs like that.”
She got out of bed and put on a silk nightgown, when Hector growled.
“You’re not going down like that. Put on some clothes.”
Ah yes, the thing about other men not seeing her naked. She quickly grabbed some underwear from the drawer and hoisted herself in a pair of jeans and a tee while he went into the bathroom.
Mary hopped downstairs right when the doorbell rang for the third time. She couldn’t help but look a bit grumpy when she opened the door.
Until she saw two police uniforms. All the happiness she’d felt washed away and got replaced by fear.
Ice. Cold. Fear.
CHAPTER 15
HECTOR
What did a man have to do around here to enjoy fucking his bride after his wedding day? Apparently,
take her to an unknown location or remove the doorbell. What he’d planned out as a lazy morning in bed, getting his first blowjob from her, had turned into him plotting the demise of whoever was at their door. To make matters worse, his hard-on refused to go away.
He closed his eyes and jacked himself off in the cold shower. She’d been so brave to ask for what she wanted. She was new to the love-making, but he liked that she felt comfortable enough with him.
He was out of the shower within minutes, not liking the thought of Mary having to face whoever it was at their door by herself. He put on some sweats and a shirt before he went downstairs. When he heard Mary’s rising voice, he hastened his pace. The second she saw him, she flung herself into his arms.
“Zoe’s gone!”
It was all he could make out her muffled voice before she broke into tears.
There were two detectives sitting in the living room. They got off the couch when they saw him. They explained that someone had snatched Zoe from the school yard. The more they explained, the angrier Hector got.
One of the detectives cleared his throat. “Mr. Diaz, I’m Detective Sanders. We have asked your wife, but maybe you could help us out. Can you think of anyone who might have a reason to abduct Zoe?”
“When did this happen?”
“This morning, at the school yard. We were hoping that you could give us any information.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I’ve no idea why someone would do that.”
The detective didn’t seem surprised by his answer and Hector assumed that Mary had told him about his practically nonexistent relationship to Zoe.
He took a card from Detective Sanders, just to get rid of the man. Sanders must have seen something in his face because his eyes narrowed.
“We know who you are, Mr. Diaz. Leave this matter to SFPD. This town has no place for vigilante justice.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Hector said smoothly. “I will stay right here and wait by the phone.”
Sanders gave him an apprehensive look before he and his partner left.
The second they were alone, Hector cupped Mary’s cheek. “I’m going to find her.”
“I know you will.” There was no hesitation in her voice. Not even a speck of doubt. “I’m coming with.”
Yeah, no… “I don’t think so.”
“But—”
“You’ll only slow me down. I can’t concentrate on Zoe if I have to look out for you as well.”
She nodded reluctantly.
He took out his phone and called Achilles. “Pick me up ASAP. We’re going on a hunt.”
It was time to extract some “vigilante justice.”
***
He didn’t stay long after the detectives had left. He’d called over Jazzy to stay with Mary; he didn’t want her to be alone. An Amber alert had been sent out, but that was hours ago, and so far, they didn’t have any clues.
Mary couldn’t answer the question as to who Zoe’s father was. There was no name on the birth certificate and Britney had once entrusted her that Zoe had been the result of a one-night stand. It was unlikely that a father who had never been in the picture would have kidnapped her.
“What a fucked-up world,” Achilles said from the seat next to him after ending another phone call.
Kids being snatched from school was the definition of fucked up. A call came in and Hector put Jazzy on speaker. Jazzy’s company developed facial recognition software specifically for children. Her help would be most welcome.
“Talk to me, Jaz.”
“Hey, Hector. So, I have some news. I tracked Zoe down to last be taken out of a black van in Fillmore. This was just two hours ago. From there, I lost her trail. I was able to get a partial plate number and gave that info to the police. They said they’re looking into the matter, but so far, nothing. There wasn’t much to go on, I’m afraid. So, I’ve called in some help from my friend, Tess. She’ll be giving you a call. Don’t um… don’t ask how Tess knows things. Just go with it.”
Now that sounded as cryptic as they came, but he’d take it. “Thanks, Jaz. How’s Mary holding up?”
“She’s being a trooper. She called her lawyer to see if they can speed up the date of the hearing. Suffice to say, her trust in CPS has taken a dent. Just get her back, Hector.”
“I’m not coming back without Zoe.” He ended the call.
They were almost at the compound when another call came in. It was from an unknown caller.
“Diaz.”
“Well, hello there, Wolfman,” a cheery female voice boomed in the car. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Tess?” he guessed.
“The one and only. Now, before I give you info on the gorilla who kidnapped the princess, do you solemnly swear that you will not ask me any questions I don’t want to answer and won’t mention my name to anyone relating my services?”
Achilles shrugged when Hector gave him a look.
“Clock’s ticking, guys,” she said. “I get that you have a missing child to find, but I have a family of my own to protect and can’t take any risks.”
“And you’d take my word for it?”
“You’re a Marine! Of course I’ll take your word for it. Also, Mary wouldn’t marry a lying scumbag.”
He’d heard worse deductions. “I promise.”
“What about you, Achilles?”
“Same from me.”
“Does the name Ivan Yankovic ring a bell? He’s a low-life drug dealer slash junkie slash pimp.”
Who in the hell was—then it dawned on him. “Shit.”
“I take that as a yes,” Tess said. “It took some digging and following a lot of traffic cams before I found him, but that’s the guy you should be looking for.” She gave them the address and Hector made a sharp turn, ignoring the honks after them.
“Shit, slow down,” Achilles muttered. “And watch that red light. You’re gonna get us pulled over.”
“No, he won’t,” Tess reassured them. “There’s a protest thing at Union Square and most police is over there. There are only two units in your area, none of which close to you. I took care of the traffic lights. They should blink in your favor.”
“Who again did you say you were?” Hector asked.
“No, no. You just made a promise not to ask any questions I don’t want to answer. Now, when it comes to this Ivan dude, I think he took Zoe out of desperation. His bank account is empty, and he was admitted to the hospital twice in the last month with multiple fractures. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he probably owes some money to some bad guys.”
“Actually, I was one of those people who hospitalized him,” Hector admitted.
“Ah.” Tess didn’t sound fazed in the least bit. “Anyways, I did some more digging, because with slimy people there’s always more. Ivan was once arrested for human trafficking, but they couldn’t pin anything on him. And when I say human trafficking, I don’t mean the rounding up girls to sell them to a brothel kind, which is sick in itself, but I mean the harvesting little humans for their organs kind. Good luck.” Then she was gone.
“Shit. Shit. Shit!”
“Cool it, man.” Achilles glanced his way, looking just as pissed. “We’re going to find the kid.”
“I should’ve ended the son of a bitch when I had the chance. Gio is right, the second you see a threat to your family, you should eradicate it, root and all. Hell, we didn’t even get the chance to plead our case with the judge. I haven’t been married for all of a day, and I’ve already failed her. If anything happens to Zoe, it will devastate Mary.”
“Not going to happen. We are going to find her. Ivan took her because he needs money. He’s going to sell her. It takes time to find a buyer. We should have a window of at least twenty-four hours.”
Which was basically no window at all. Once the kid left the state, she would disappear. It happened all the time. Men like Ivan targeted street kids, or kids like Zoe, they believed no one would go looking for. Well, the fu
cker had chosen the wrong mark.
He hit the gas until they parked in the alley Tess had mentioned. It was in a drug-infested neighborhood, filled with houses that looked ready to be torn down.
“Jesus, what a shithole. So, we got a plan?” Achilles checked his gun.
Hector readied his own piece. “We go in, find Zoe, beat the shit out of Ivan. Then we take her home.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They entered the building from the back. It took a while—and some cash into the hands of the right junkies littering the floor—before he found his mark.
Ivan lay on a dirty mattress in a room that smelled like a toilet had overflowed. Beer bottles and needles scattered the floor.
Hector gave Ivan a nudge with his boot. “Wake up.” When that didn’t work, he kneeled next to him and smacked him in the face.
The fucker hardly seemed to feel it. Ivan was wasted, either on drugs or alcohol; probably both.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that Zoe was nowhere in the room. They navigated down the corridor, opening and closing doors, calling out her name.
She wasn’t there.
Shit.
He stomped back to Ivan, who still lay in his own filth.
Achilles pulled a face. “Damn, he smells.”
“Stop complaining. You’ve smelled worse.”
“Give me a warzone any time a day over this shitty room.”
“We need to sober him up.” He looked around, but Achilles beat him to the punch when he emerged from an adjoining room, a bucket in his hand.
“Ask and you shall receive.”
“You found water here?”
“Toilet water,” Achilles explained. “Should be an upgrade for him.”
“That was very nice of you,” Hector complimented him.
“Well, thank you. I’m a nice guy.” He emptied the bucket over Ivan.
Ivan’s eyes shot open. “What the—”
“Ivan. We meet again.” Hector grabbed him by his throat and punched him in the nose.
A scream, and then blood splattered on the dirty linoleum floor.
“Fuck! You broke my nose again!”
“That’s only the beginning, you sack of horseshit. The girl, where is she?”