by Shanna Bell
He cocked an eyebrow and opened his mouth.
“If you’re going to comment on me cursing, I swear to God, I will hurt you!”
His mouth closed.
“I want you to tell me the truth. Why don’t you want to sleep with me? Is it because of what I told you?”
“Look, you need to calm down—”
“I’m perfectly calm!” Okay, this time she could hear herself shriek. Thank God Zoe slept like the dead. “I’m not my mother!”
His eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. A slow burn was starting to shimmer in his gorgeous eyes, that promised her retribution.
She suddenly realized that she might have let out another curse. Or two. Or three. Who was keeping count anyway? She wasn’t. Not with the prospect of ending up like her mom.
“In my family, difficult subjects were never discussed. They were shoved under the carpet. We all lived by my grandfather’s rules. Even my father, no, especially my father. I think part of him hated being an in-law to a powerful man. He didn’t have much say over his own family. See, he wanted a homebody housewife, but my mother liked to go out with friends and leave us to the nannies. When my father died, she just left, to ‘live her life in freedom,’ as she told me directly to my face. My grandfather knew she wasn’t mother material and didn’t try to stop her. He just changed our last name to his, because he wanted us to feel like family, and also because he had zero respect for my father. I see my mom once a year, during Christmas. There are a million things I want to talk to her about, but I know she’ll never let me. She doesn’t talk about things that make her feel uncomfortable, and I have to abide by her rules, because she’s my mother. In a way, we will never be equals. But I will be damned if I will live like that with you! I deserve better. I deserve more than a fuck after I tell you about something that shaped me irrevocably. I at least deserve to be cuddled, dammit!”
“Has it occurred to you that maybe I wanted to sleep apart to protect you?”
His voice was more of a growl, and she could see his hands clench, as if he was barely hanging on. Well, tough.
She laughed, though it wasn’t a happy sound. “You want to protect my fragile little body? Or do you want to protect your own? I think it’s the latter. Let me tell you that I’ve never been so disappointed in my life. I must have married an old man for you to need a break after just one good fuck.” For good measure, she added a few choice words.
When he jumped off the bed, she slapped her hands over her mouth.
“Too late, chica.” He stalked over to her, like a wolf closing in on his prey.
Just in case, she took a step back.
Maybe two steps.
Was that the wall hitting her butt?
“You know, my Italian’s a bit rusty, but not that rusty,” Hector growled. “Maybe you forgot I was practically raised with Italians. I’m pretty sure you just called me an old bull ready to be taken to the pasture. I’m also damn sure that was an insult to my”—his eyes roamed her body—“manliness.”
“Um, maybe we should further discuss this in the morning.” She tried to circumvent him, but he planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head, boxing her in.
“No. Let’s talk about this now. See, I have this sudden itchy feeling in my hands, and I don’t think I can just get back to sleep.”
She swallowed. “Because of your itchy fingers?”
He played with a curl of her hair, pretending to be relaxed. Meanwhile, she was trying really hard to ignore the hard-on that pressed against her soft belly.
“Because of the fantasies in my head about the things I want to do to you. Correction, the things I’m going to do to you. I’ve got a new plug and nipple clamps to break in.”
It was hard not to feel terrified and excited at the same time.
“Oh.”
A Master’s degree and that’s your best comeback?
It’s my mouth that got me in trouble in the first place!
You are an embarrassment to your gender.
Hector lifted her butt and pressed his knee against her core. Any thoughts of giving him lip fled her mind. Grinding his knee against her, he made it impossible for her to use more than a few braincells.
“But first, let’s get our misunderstanding out of the way.”
“Yes, let’s,” she sighed.
“You want the truth? I’ll give you the truth. Yesterday, at the store, I had an… episode. It was just a flashback. Thing is, I never had that before during the day. Ever. Whenever I see Decker’s dead eyes stare up at me, it’s during a nightmare. I’ve thought about it all day. He’ll probably haunt me again tonight. I didn’t want you to have to deal with that.”
Her heart went out to him and she placed an apologetic kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry you went through that. But that’s still no excuse to leave our bed. The good and the bad times, remember? You can’t just shut me out like that. That’s not okay.”
“I hear you.”
She let out a relieved breath. “I’m glad we talked it out.” She rewarded him with a sweet smile that told him there were no hard feelings.
He stepped away and motioned for her to go back into their bedroom.
“You still sore? Not that it really matters.”
This stopped her in her tracks. “It doesn’t?”
“No, baby, it doesn’t.”
She watched, fascinated—and slightly horrified—as he pulled a paddle out of a cabinet.
He gave a good swat to his open palm. “See, I can’t let you calling me names go unanswered. Cursing, as you’ve told me numerous times, is a bad habit.”
“I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar,” she said hastily, while trailing backwards into their bedroom.
He followed her slowly, the paddle in his hand.
Slap.
Slap.
“I don’t think that’s going to cut it,” he claimed. “See, you didn’t only say bad words, but you hurt my pride. My male pride.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, you really seem like a broken man, stripped of all his confidence.”
“I wanted to ease you into things, but I’ve changed my mind.”
Easing into things sounded pretty good right now.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. First, I’m going to redden your ass, taking the paddle to it thirteen times.”
“Why thirteen?” It sounded like a bad omen.
“That’s the number of curses you spat out. You should’ve stopped after calling me a stubborn donkey. But then you had to go and compare me to an old ox, insinuating that I couldn’t get my dick up. Do you want me to repeat all the words? I am a fair man, after all.”
She winced. “No, no. I believe you. It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mary, your pretty, perky ass is going to hurt once I’m finished with it. But you won’t have too much time to think about it, because once the paddling is finished, you’ll be too busy taking my cock down your throat.”
Heat washed over her. One more step and the back of her knees hit the bed.
Hector put the paddle next to her on the bed and went to his drawer. He pulled out two objects that looked like… oh no—
“Let me introduce you to your new friends,” he said. “Nipple clamps.”
That’s when the heat between her thighs turned into a pool.
“Now, get on your stomach and lift up your ass. It’s best to get this over with, so we can get to the good stuff.”
“Good stuff?”
Please let it be multiple orgasms.
Possibly with whipped cream.
Or anything chocolatey.
He gave her a wicked grin. “Yes, baby. The part where I fuck you six ways till Sunday, until your pussy has come so many times, you’ll need to put ice on it just to handle the fire.”
Hector turned out to be a man of his word. Not that she had expected any differently. He did just as he said. Making her burn. Hurt. Squirm. And feel good. Oh, so good.
By t
he end of the night, she was a pile of melted bones.
“Mary?”
She snuggled up closer to him. “Yes?”
“I didn’t like sleeping without you either.”
And just like that, she melted all over again.
CHAPTER 20
HECTOR
His wife was up to something. He wasn’t sure what but every now and then, she gave him this look from her side of the kitchen island. After their first fight, after which he’d fucked the insolence right out of her, things had gotten back on track. A month into his marriage and things had never been better.
She’d made him his favorite breakfast, which wasn’t too strange since she seemed to like to cook. Still, something was up. Maybe it was because tomorrow, they would have their first guests over. Mary was big on family gatherings, he’d discovered. She had wanted to throw a housewarming barbecue and officially welcome Zoe into their midst.
Right now, she was prepping salads.
“Need any help with that?” he asked.
“Nope.” She cleared her throat. “So, um, is there maybe anyone else you want to invite? Perhaps, someone you forgot?”
“Nah, I’m good. You know everyone I know. The guys, the Dettas, who else is there?”
“Hmm.” She kept on cutting tomatoes.
“Mary. Who else did you invite?”
“I invited Katya,” she said against a bowl. “We met at girls’ night. She’s Kristoff’s protégé and so much fun. Sadly, she can’t make it tomorrow, but when I had her on the phone, I also talked to Kristoff. I wanted to thank him for helping find Zoe. Then I invited him to the barbecue. It seemed rude to invite Katya but not him.”
He took a deep breath. “You did what?”
“I invited Kristoff to the family barbecue,” she repeated. “He is my brother-in-law, after all, and that makes him family.”
The woman was determined to drive him mad. At this rate, the swear jar was going to burst from money. His fucking money. It took some effort, fucking Herculean effort, but he managed to rein in his temper.
“He won’t come.”
Did it make him a bastard to complete that remark with a smirk? Probably. But Mrs. Sweet Smile and Angelic Hair was going to find out that having those attributes didn’t immediately mean everyone was going to do her bidding.
“That’s what I told him you’d say.” She returned his smirk. “Guess what? Apparently, the leader of the Russian mob doesn’t like to be predictable. I believe he used a few colorful expletives about his ornery brother. Your eyes aren’t the only thing you two have in common, you know. Kristoff does love to swear.” She pulled a face.
He pushed back from the table. “Then you better get another swear jar, because if he does come to the barbecue, it’s going to be one fucking swear fest.” With that, he left the room, cursing to himself.
“That’s another dollar!” she hollered after him.
***
When Hector returned home later that night, he’d come to a few conclusions.
Mary was reading on the couch, and Zoe was playing with dolls at her feet. His wife was pointedly ignoring him, thinking that with Zoe there, she would be safe. He couldn’t stop a crooked grin when he grabbed Zoe from the floor.
She squealed as he twirled her around, playing plane. He dropped on the sofa with her on his lap. Zoe reached for her Wonder Woman doll and a tiny brush.
“Diana wants a braid, like me,” she said, twirling her perfect pigtails.
He glanced at Mary, in the hopes of getting help, but she seemed engrossed in her e-reader. Though her shoulders shook suspiciously.
His big fingers weren’t meant for this shit, but Zoe gave him such a hopeful look that he tried anyway. He ended up having to do it over three times until it looked somewhat decent.
“There you go. All done.” He really hoped she wasn’t going to come with the rest of her collection.
“We made cupcakes today.”
“Is that so?” One question was all it took for Zoe to go on a one-sided monologue about everything that had gone down that day.
“Why don’t we go brush your teeth and put on your PJs,” he interrupted her. “I’ll tuck you in.”
“Are you going to read me a story?” Zoe never went to bed without negotiating a story out of him.
“Sure.”
“Four stories?”
“How about two?”
“Hmm… okay.”
Storytelling took longer than he’d expected. The little munchkin had chosen a Grimms’ Fairytale. Who knew those stories had that many pages? Apparently, she did, because he didn’t believe for a second that she hadn’t tricked him. Beaten by a six-year-old, what was the world coming to?
As he headed downstairs, he shook his head. Hector “the Wolf” Diaz, domesticated. If the guys in his old unit could see him now, they would laugh their asses off. Thing was, he didn’t give a fuck. Never in his life had he been more centered as since he’d tied the knot. Coming home to Mary and Zoe was the highlight of his day. He’d always considered the Dettas as his true family, and they still were. But he had another one now, one of his own. This was why Mary couldn’t let go of trying to fix things between him and Kristoff. She genuinely believed that he would be happier with his brother in his life.
She was in the kitchen, putting on a kettle. It was the center of the house and where she spent a lot of time, reading at the kitchen island or having a cup of tea. He could see her pulse jump up when he took the seat across her.
“I’ve come to a few conclusions today, hermosa. I’m going to tell you about Kristoff. So you’ll understand why I can’t stand the guy, and why it won’t change anything, whether you invite him over or not. And when I’m done talking, you’re going to go upstairs, put on that red lace teddy, and come back. After that, I’m going to fuck you and I’m going to fuck you real hard.”
She put her mug down, eyes big.
“And don’t give me that look. That’s not gonna save you. See, I’m tired of being the only one frustrated when it comes to my brother. So, I’ve decided to… spread my frustration. Every time I have to spend time in his presence, I’m going to share my feelings with, on, and deep inside of you. And you might want to wipe that smile off your face because I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna let you come.”
She pouted and folded her arms. “Fine. Now, tell me what happened between you two.”
Ah, she’d put on her teacher’s voice again. If she had any idea what it made him want to do to her beautiful ass, she wouldn’t have.
“You seem to be under the impression that I know Kristoff. That we were somehow separated later on in life. That’s not the case. See, we don’t share a mother, but a father. An asshole of a top shelf father, who likes his women exotic, judging by my Mexican and Kristoff’s Russian mother. Our All-American pie father liked to fuck his nannies. When my mother told him she was pregnant, he kicked her out. Gave her some pocket change as a bribe off. I didn’t even know I had a brother until my mother told me on her deathbed. I guess she didn’t want me to be alone. She must have known that her mother, a grandmother I had never met, wouldn’t take me in. I was fourteen when my mother died.
“When child services came to pick me up, I fled to my father. Maybe my mother had been wrong about him. Maybe he’d changed. I had no idea where he lived, so I went to his office; after all, he was the mayor. The second he spotted me, he recognized me and ushered me into a room. He’s big and bulky like me, and has the exact same eyes. The asshole threatened to make my life a living hell if I ever came back. You can’t imagine the rage I felt when he called my mother a puta. I was so close to killing him and destroying my life. My mother must have been watching over me from above because I walked away. I walked away, never to return.”
Her eyes turned soft. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I don’t give a shit about that man.” And that he didn’t want me. Nobody had wanted him after his mother died. N
ot his asshole father, and not his grandmother, who stated that the bastard had brought shame upon her family.
“Then what happened? I recall Jazzy telling me that you grew up with the Dettas and their grandmother.”
Bless Caitlin O’Brian. She’d been the poster granny of Irish hospitality.
“I met Gio at the group home. When a few kids jumped him, I helped him out. We became inseparable ever since. Then one day, Grams came to pick up her grandsons.” He remembered that day as if it happened yesterday. He had felt sick to his stomach. Any minute, Gio was going to leave him behind and he would be alone again. “Gio begged her to take me with them.” All it took was a look at his crestfallen face and Grams decided to take him in too. It had been him and the Dettas ever since. He had been Gio’s enforcer. When starting a new business, not everyone took you seriously at first. Some even believed they didn’t have to pay you. That’s where Hector came in.
“And where does Kristoff fit in this story?”
Ah yes, his ‘long-lost’ big brother. “My father’s name wasn’t the only one my mother told me on her deathbed. Kristoff’s mom and she had worked at the mayor’s mansion at the same time. The bastard impregnated both of them. Kristoff’s three years older than me. Finding Kristoff was more difficult. He lived in Tenderloin, like the Dettas and me, but my older brother was already doing odd jobs. Still, one day, I found him. I told him we were brothers and, stupid me, I expected a Hollywood moment or something.”
“I take it, it didn’t go down like that?”
“Fuck no. He told me that he didn’t play with kids. Then he said to never call him brother again.” It had been like a punch in the gut.
“And you never spoke to him over the years? I mean, he knows Gio, and even shares a club with him.”
That might seem weird to an outsider, but Kristoff and his crew had shared the same streets with the Dettas, and by extension, with him. They had both managed to crawl out of the slums. The only difference being that Gio had chosen to go legit instead of following in his father’s footsteps, working for the mob. Kristoff had chosen the opposite. Over the years, a friendship formed between the two powerful men. A friendship that Hector would never share with his brother, because one rejection would last him a lifetime.