I reached my arm over, twisting it around both of us so that I could get a grip on his hair. I laid my head down on his shoulder so that I could look up at his face now. His jaws were angled squarely, his skin glistened like copper, and he continued to play with my breasts.
“Please…Jesus, please, fuck me,” I begged him, and a smile flickered on his face.
“I like it when you plead,” he said and squeezed my nipple harder. I winced with desire and bit down on my lip.
“Please, fuck me…I can’t hold back any longer. I want to come. I want you inside me when I come,” I urged him and he wedged a hand between our bodies.
I could feel him guiding his cock towards my pussy. He pushed me forward, and I fell on my hands so that he could have access to my pussy. He searched it out from behind me, checking to see how wet I was and then his cock thrust into me. I moaned as he inched deeper and deeper inside.
Before I could even begin moving myself, he had grabbed me by my waist again and was pulling me back up. His cock remained inside, and he had started a slow rhythmic thrust. My back was pressed to him again; my head was resting on his shoulder, my eyes staring up at the ceiling as we started moving together.
Jesus’ thrusts were strong, and with each of them, he grunted. His hands gripped my waist, keeping my body in position as he plowed into me. Somehow, this time the sex was slower, more meaningful. That hungry desperation to possess each other had disappeared. This time around, with his arms around me, holding on to me possessively, with the rhythmic thrusts he was using…it was like he was trying to tell me something, that he had me, that he was going to keep me safe.
When Jesus’ fingers moved down, from my waist to my belly and then my pussy…I knew that he wanted me to come. His thumb stroked my clit now, and I could feel a searing electrical shock running up and down my spine. He didn’t stop thrusting, didn’t stop moving inside me as my clit became even more engorged, a sudden quivering overwhelmed my body.
“Come for me, Valentina,” he whispered in my ear, and I gave up. I could feel the fissures opening up, my body revolting against my mind as I allowed the feelings to take over me. My orgasm jolted my body, and I screamed. I clutched his hair with one hand and squeezed his hand on my pussy with the other as I stretched myself against him. My senses opened up. I could feel every stroke he made inside me, his thumb frantically playing with my clit, the tuft of hair on his chest that gently grazed my back as I pressed myself against him even more.
Then Jesus came too. He had burst inside me, and our orgasms swallowed us up together. I could feel him shoot deep, and he growled and cried out my name.
“Valentina…” he grunted, and his voice shook as we came together.
“Jesus…I…I…” I was on the verge of confessing I still loved him, but the sound of his growls deafened my voice, till he was done and his orgasm began to subside.
Our bodies swayed, as I remained in his arms for a moment longer. Then he was sliding out of me again, that familiar feeling of panic overtook me. He was going to be gone, just like he had done before. He was going to put on his clothes and leave.
Instead, once he had slid himself out of me, he crashed down on the bed. The mattress creaked under his weight as he lay himself down, crossing his arms behind his head. I remained sitting on the edge of the bed where he had left me, my breasts heaving from exhaustion.
A film of sweat covered Jesus’ forehead, and when I least expected it, a smile flickered on his face.
“Come over here,” he said and stretched an arm out towards me. I crawled over to him on my knees, my heart quickening in my chest as I settled into his arms. I couldn’t believe this was happening…that there was a chance that he might stay.
My head was supported by his arm as we stared up at the ceiling together.
“Try and get some sleep, Valentina,” he said, in a breathless voice and I quickly closed my eyes. I knew there was a smile on my face and maybe finally, I would be able to sleep again.
Chapter 11
King
The next morning, I left Valentina asleep in bed, and I snuck out of Moira’s apartment, hoping that she hadn’t heard us the previous night. I was just about to get on my bike and head back to my place to shower and change when my phone rang. It was my mother calling.
“Mijo, I need your help,” her voice cracked as she spoke into the phone.
“Is everything alright?” I asked her, already preparing to ride away.
“I had a fall,” she said.
“I’m on my way.”
I reached her house and parked my bike in a hurry before I ran up the steps to her apartment on the second floor. It had been three years since I found this new place for her to live in. All my life, I had worked towards earning enough to take care of my family and now finally, I could. My life had changed ever since I joined the Rogue Rebels and now I could do the things I always wanted to do for mom, which included buying her a safe and spacious new apartment to live in. I also made sure that she always had new clothes to wear and her pantry was stocked with food. Whatever had happened to me in my teenage years was not her fault. It had all been my dad’s doing.
I burst through her front door and found mom lying on her living room couch. The television was on mute in front of her, and she had one leg raised up.
“Are you bleeding? Did you break anything?” I rushed to her and knelt down beside her on the rug.
“No, just a sprained ankle, mijo,” mom reached for my face and stroked my cheek affectionately. She had fought hard against my father when he traded me in with the Muerte Viviente; essentially selling me into slavery. But against the physical and mental abuse of my father, neither she nor I were immune. She was powerless, spoke very little English at the time, and had no friends or family to turn to. She had left her life in Mexico, and immigrated with my dad to America at a young age and since then, she had been alone. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep me safe from him.
I sat down on the rug now, pressing my back against the legs of the coffee table that I’d bought her a few months ago. Now, she was at peace. My dad had been dead for four years, and I knew she was proud of me. Proud that I had escaped the clutches of Muerte Viviente and managed to make a life for myself. I looked into her aging face and saw a woman who had lived a hard life and had tried her best to give her son a better one. She had failed, at most of it other than raising someone who was strong and could stand up for what he believed in.
“Are you okay, mama’? Should I take you to the doctor?” I asked her, resting my arms on my folded-up knees and she shook her head. Some strands of her graying hair came loose from her bun and fell around her face.
“It’s just a sprained ankle, mijo; I just need to rest it for a few hours,” she spoke in Spanish to me and smiled. “I called you because I’ve run out of milk and eggs and I thought maybe you could do some grocery shopping for me,” she added, and I nodded.
“I’ll go in a bit,” I said to her, and she moved, trying to sit up straight so she could see me better.
“Keep lying down, mom, you need your ankle to heal properly,” I said and patted her knee. A few moments of silence passed between us, while she watched me closely. I had made it a habit to visit her once every week to keep an eye on her, and I knew mom could tell that there was something on my mind. Although, sometimes now, I wondered if Valentina knew me even better, better than my mother ever could. Now, of course, too much time had passed, and I wondered if she was the same person anymore.
“You know you can tell me anything, Jesus,” she spoke in Spanish again, and I met her eyes. She had interrupted my thoughts about Valentina, but I wanted to have a conversation with her that I had never dared before. I believed it was time. I couldn’t just sweep the subject under the rug anymore. Maybe it was the fact that Valentina was back, but I needed to know answers.
“Mom, why did dad sell me to Muerte Viviente? You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too painful for you,” I said a
nd aimlessly dug at the threads on the side of my jeans. Around my mother, I always felt like a small boy again, and now especially since she was watching me so keenly. Her lips quivered as she spoke, even though I could tell that she was trying to keep her head held high.
“He owed them money,” she said flatly, and I looked up at her. My brows crossed and she shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s as simple as that, mijo. Your father gambled, he drank a lot…you know all this. Well, he borrowed heavily from Muerte Viviente and couldn’t pay them back. Romero Luis made a deal with your father, claiming that all his debts would vanish if he traded you in for his fighting rings,” mom’s voice was cracking again as she spoke and I reached for her. She slid over the edge of the couch as she clung to me and I could feel my jacket wetting where she was crying on my shoulder. I patted her back as her body shook.
“I tried to stop him, mijo. I wish I could!”
“I know you tried, and I also know what kind of man he was,” I comforted her. The purpose of this conversation wasn’t to remind my mom how she had failed me as a parent, and it was because I wanted to know the truth. Nobody had ever told me how Romero got a hold of me, but I always had the feeling that my dad owed the man something.
“The gang forced us…forced your father, just like they are doing it to Romero now,” she cried, and I pulled away from her. I knew she still had some friends whose husbands and children were associated with the Muerte Viviente, but I didn’t think she would know what was going on with Valentina.
“What do you mean, mom?” I asked her, pretending like I had no idea what she was talking about. If she even got a hint that I was hiding Valentina, that I was associating myself with anyone from the Muerte Viviente gang, I knew she would lose her mind with worry. Gone would be her peaceful nights of sleep.
Mom wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands and took in a deep breath as she tried to steady herself.
“Well, Romero is now the one who is in debt, and he got kicked out of the leadership of the gang when he fell sick,” she said, hardening her voice. If I hated Romero Luis and the gang, I knew that she hated them more.
“So, he owes them money, and they’re going to make him pay, right?” I urged her on, and she shook her head. A certain wildness had entered her eyes.
“As far as I know, they’ve already cut a deal. Do you remember, his beautiful young daughter, Valentina?” she asked, looking up at me with a vengeance in her eyes. Any pain that the Muerte Viviente caused to Romero Luis would be vengeance for what they had done to me. She had no idea of my relationship with Valentina, so she didn’t know how this could affect me in turn too.
“Yeah, I remember her,” I said, and mom threw her head back and laughed. I had to clench my hands so that I didn’t reach for her and shake her. The words “cut a deal” were fresh in my mind. I didn’t want to hear what I knew she was about to say.
“Romero is trading his daughter for the debt. They’re going to sell her off into the flesh trade or something; I don’t know…I don’t care. I just want that family to burn in Hell!” she snapped, and I could see the fire erupting in her eyes. Nobody was crueler than a mother whose child is harmed, and she was one such mother, and I couldn’t blame her for it.
“Are you saying that Romero Luis arranged for his daughter to be kidnapped?” I asked, standing up from the rug. Mom looked up at me, and the fury was still in her eyes.
“What else would you expect from a man like him?” she said.
xxx
I burst into Moira’s guest room and found Valentina still in bed. She was naked under the covers but had her eyes open. Fuck, she looked gorgeous! The way the light pouring into the room caught the edges of her chestnut hair and set it on fire! I gulped, to steady myself. She looked over at me, her face morphing into a smile. She thought I had returned to take her into my arms, to make love to her again.
“Jesus…” she said huskily and reached out a hand towards me. I was almost tempted to comply. Tempted to forget about the real reason I was here and just pull her into my arms again.
Instead, I stood with my legs parted at the door, my nostrils flaring with rage and my fists clenched on either side.
“Your father pawned you for money,” I growled, looking at her from under my heavy lids. I could feel the fire smoking out of my nostrils as I glared at her. Valentina’s expression changed, she pulled the covers up to her breasts and moved herself to sit up in bed.
“What are you talking about, Jesus?” she said and I took a few steps towards her.
“You heard what I just said. He wrote to you, knowing that you would come back here. He set up a deal with Muerte Viviente and Juan to trade you for the debt,” I said through gritted teeth as I edged closer to her.
Valentina’s eyes were wide, and she looked aghast. Another second and I predicted she would burst into tears.
“I didn’t expect this from you, Jesus,” she said instead, in a low guttural voice and I crossed my brows.
She still had the covers clutched to her breasts, and I could see her bare shoulders quivering with anger.
“I know Papi hurt you, and he shouldn’t have. I know Papi did things that I could never forgive him for…but this, what you’re claiming…he would never do this to me!” she shrieked and I took in a deep breath of anger. I couldn’t believe that she was siding with him. After everything I had already done for her, after everything he had done to me…how could Valentina not believe me?
“Your father was and is an evil man, Valentina, and it’s a shame that you don’t see him for who he is,” I growled, and she snapped her head away from me. She didn’t want to look at me anymore.
“My father is capable of a lot of things, but trading his daughter to pay off a debt…he would never do that. He has pride, and he’s an arrogant man. Give him some credit for that!” she cried, and I clenched my jaw. I wanted to hold her and console her. I knew the feeling…of realizing that your own father has betrayed you, is selling you off in exchange for a debt. I had been through it myself, but the fact that she didn’t even believe me was too much for me to gulp down.
“You know what the Muerte Viviente are capable of, and he knows it too. At this point, he will probably do anything to get out of their debt. He used to be the one giving out the fucking orders. He knows exactly what their next step would be if he doesn’t pay off the debt somehow,” I barked at her and Valentina looked back at me, her eyes watery and burning as she stared.
“You’re saying that he tricked me into coming here?”
“He is sick, that much is true, but he might have exaggerated the extent of his illness,” I said, and she shook her head in anger.
“How could you even suggest such a thing?” she howled.
The answer was simple. I had been on the other side of Romero Luis’ wrath. I knew exactly what he was capable of. I wasn’t even surprised when my mother told me, and I was just upset that I hadn’t figured it out sooner.
“Valentina…you have to trust what I’m saying,” I said and took a step towards her.
“I don’t trust you, Jesus. I don’t trust you at all!” she snapped and our eyes met in a fury. She wasn’t lying. She didn’t trust me anymore. She had chosen her confidence in her father, over her trust in me. She had to leave town. She had to run away from home to get away from her father…how could she possibly be on his side now?
“It’s amazing…after everything that’s happened…that you don’t trust me anymore,” I said, making a last attempt even though I knew that the battle was already lost.
She jerked up, making sure that the covers stayed in place.
“I’m his daughter, Jesus. I’m his blood. He would never do something like this to me. And you…you’re just a man, like every other man in the world. You want nothing more than my body. I know how gangs work, how the MC world functions. When you tire of my body, you’ll leave me to wither away, just like all your friends do…” her voice was firm, and yet her eyes were w
atery as she spoke.
I couldn’t reply to that. Not after she had already made up her mind. Ten years I had pined for her, and now she was turning me away because I had told her the truth about her father.
“You can stay here as long as you need, Valentina,” I said and turned around to walk to the door, hoping the whole time that she would stop me in my tracks. She didn’t, and I was gone.
Fuck it! I told myself. I needed to buy my mother milk and eggs anyway.
Chapter 12
Valentina
I was shaking in bed after Jesus left. I felt empty inside like a massive hurricane had hit the room and stripped me of all my possessions and my soul and everything. His words kept ringing in my ears. Papi had arranged the kidnapping, and he was the one who made Juan keep me prisoner. What were they going to trade me for?
I jumped out of bed and started collecting my discarded clothes off the floor. No, I didn’t believe him. Jesus was lying to me. The last words that I had lashed at him…I didn’t mean any of them. They had come spilling out of me from somewhere, from an unknown place. I shouldn’t have said those things to him. Not after everything he had done for him.
I started changing into the pajamas, my hands still shaking as I tried to smoothen the clothes over my body. The body that Jesus had touched. I could still feel his arms around me. His thrusts. My legs quivered from the soreness of the sex we had last night.
I shook my head, trying to get those thoughts out of my head. No, he was lying to me.
I was in a battle with myself. I didn’t want to believe what he had told me, Papi would never do such a thing to me. But what reason did Jesus have, to lie to me? Did he hate Papi that much? That he would try and turn me against him?
Say Yes, Senator: A Best Friend's Little Sister Political Romance Page 31