by India Kells
“Frida!”
A sob came out of her burning throat when she recognized Malco’s voice and Frida found herself in his arms, hugging him as tightly as he was hugging her.
Before she could enjoy his strength, he pulled away and framed her face. “Frida. Are you all right? I heard everything. Why didn’t you use the front door?”
His hands on her steadied her nerves, and her heart stopped when she saw the deep worry etched on his handsome face. She’d never seen him so frantic. The former soldier was always so calm and collected; it was surprising to see him so undone.
Before she could process it, he kissed her hard and fast, making her head spin, but this time it wasn’t due to the lack of air. Her world spun again when Malco lifted her into his arms and held her close. She should have acted strong and pushed forward like she always did, started planning the next stage of the investigation, but instead, she buried her face in his neck, his scent filling her world, and let him carry her away.
Chapter Fifteen
He swore his heart almost stopped when he heard Kasten confront Frida at the back of the station. Hearing the sounds she made as the man threatened her had him seeing red. He hadn’t moved so fast in all his life as he rounded that corner to find her gasping for breath and holding her neck.
The angry marks of Kasten’s hands on her throat made him want to tear the fucker apart with his bare hands. Her shaken look and the way she clung to him had sealed the deal. Nobody came after someone he cared about, and he cared about Frida probably more than he should in such a short time.
He parked his car in the garage of his home, wanting to give her space to rest and decompress. Neither of them had gotten much sleep in the last few days, and running on fumes and flaking out wouldn’t help anyone.
He fingered the ends of her silky hair as he looked at her across the center console. “Food and a movie sound good?”
Her exhausted smiled relaxed the inner beast that still wanted blood. “Sounds perfect. I think I’m about to hit a brick wall.”
“Let’s get to it then.” He opened the inner door and turned off his alarms. “Why don’t you grab a shower while I start dinner. Chicken Jambalaya okay?”
“Hmm, sounds lovely.” Malco chuckled at her delight.
He watched as she walked away toward the room she was using and listened as the shower went on. He needed to update the team on what went down with Kasten.
He got everything for the Jambalaya out and began preparing the meat while he dialed Alliance and put it on speaker.
“Hey, Malco.” Cleo’s voice greeted him.
“Hey, sweetheart, is Mason, Shane, or Knight around?”
“Let me just see who’s in their office. I think Shane might be.”
Malco seared the meat, the scent of spices filling the air as he moved it around the pan.
“Malco, where are you?” Shane sounded pissed.
“I’m at home. Did you hear what happened with Frida and Kasten?” He knew sometimes Shane monitored the comms when he was in the office. The man was like a mother hen at times.
“Yeah, I did, and I want to rip his fucking balls off. Bent cops are bad enough but now he’s assaulting women.”
“Yeah, well, she was shaken up, and I figured we both need some sleep, so we came home. We’ll be back in at oh eight hundred tomorrow unless anything urgent comes up before.”
“No problem, take the night. Nothing is happening that needs immediate attention, and we need people sharp on this. There are too many moving parts for my liking.”
“Roger that. Call me if anything happens, though.”
“Always.” Shane hung up, and Malco finished adding the onions, stock, and rice and left it to simmer. That could cook while he took a shower and changed. He heard the water turn off in the other room and tried to banish the image of Frida wet and naked only feet from him from his mind.
He needed a shower and to jerk off before his dick fell off and his balls died. Being around this woman was a constant education in control. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, and her reaction to his prosthetic had been honest with no pity or looks of repulsion.
It was part of him, and that was exactly how she had looked at him, not like he was broken and deserved her sympathy. Drying off after his shower, he slipped on a gray t-shirt and sweats, ran his hand through his wet hair, and walked back to the kitchen. To his delight, Frida was at the stove, stirring the pot, a glass of wine in her hand.
She turned, looking guilty as the glass stopped at her lips. “I hope you don’t mind. I helped myself from the fridge.” Malco smiled as he approached and took the glass from her hand, lifting it to his lips for a sip.
“Perfect.” He moved in closer and palmed her belly. “For the record, seeing you make yourself at home in my kitchen gives me more pleasure than it probably should.” Frida tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. “You have a kitchen fetish I should know about?”
Malco laughed. “No, I have a full-on Frida fetish.”
“Phew, because I’m starving, and I’d hate to have to bin that food because you’ve been doing the nasty on the counter.”
“You have my word, no nasty on the counter—yet.” Then they were both laughing as her hands moved to his chest, and she swatted him.
“Seriously, though, Malco, what are we doing here? This feels like more than sex or a fling, or am I reading this wrong.” Malco focused on the marks on her neck and felt his rage bubble again.
“Hearing him attack you like that today nearly killed me. Every horrible scenario ran through my brain as I tried to find you, and it made me see that whatever this is, it’s not easy or light. It’s deep and scary, and I can’t seem to stop it, and I’m not sure I want to.”
“I’m not either, but we have so much bad history between our families.” Frida went to pull away, and he held her tighter.
“Between our families, not us. We’re not them, and if you want to try, and I really hope you do, we can take it slow.” Frida looked up, and her dark eyes were pools of passion, darker than the night sky behind them.
“I do want to, but not too slow. My batteries died earlier, and I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.” Malco felt his eyebrows shoot up at her comment before he grinned.
“Never let it be said that I’d let a lady suffer. Stay with me tonight, we don’t have to have sex, but I need to hold you.”
“I want that, too.”
“Now the food. Why don’t I dish up, and you find something on Netflix for us to watch?”
“Are we doing Netflix and chill?” She waggled her eyebrows, and Malco realized this relaxed Frida was as beautiful and alluring as kick-ass lawyer Frida.
“Just pick something.” He couldn’t help but laugh.
They sat on the sofa and ate Chicken Jambalaya out of bowls and drank a glass of wine each, and she snuggled into him while they watched the original Ghostbusters, before falling asleep on his chest.
Malco carried her to bed when it was finished, and she woke as he placed her down in the bed.
“I fell asleep.”
“It’s been a rough day.” He got in next to her after shedding his shirt.
“You need to use the bathroom?”
“I need to brush my teeth.” He threw the covers back. “I’ll get your stuff.”
Her hand on his arm stopped him. “I’m okay, Malco. I can do it.”
“I know, but let me, please?”
He needed to care for her just tonight, and then she could be kick-ass Frida again tomorrow. She seemed to sense that and let him go with a soft smile. Once he came back and they both brushed their teeth and went through their normal bedtime routine, Malco removed his prosthetic, massaging the muscle that ached by the end of the day, even after all this time. Malco had already checked the alarms, and the house was secure. Frida was only wearing a camisole style nightie and shorts when he slid in beside her. Her body immediately moved into his, and he lifted his arm so she could lay
on his chest. Malco lay looking at the ceiling and listening to her breathing, knowing she was still awake. Her hand on his abdomen made his muscles twitch, and his cock joined the party. Her light fingers drove him wild as they danced over his belly and then slid beneath his sweats. Her grip on his cock was firm and sure as she stroked him from root to tip.
“Fuck. Frida, you’re killing me.”
“But in a good way, I hope.”
“The fucking best.”
“I don’t want to just sleep beside you, Malco. I want you to make love to me.”
“A-fucking-men to that.”
He flipped them until he was on top and looked down at the stunning woman beneath him. She was quickly becoming everything to him, and he wondered if it had been like this for his friends. “So beautiful.”
His hand swept over her cheek, down her neck, and rubbed at the beaded nipple through the cami before it traveled lower. Grasping the top, he lifted it over her head, wanting nothing in the way of his eyes on her body. He trailed his lips over her cheek, kissing her long and slow until their bodies burned, and he felt the bite of her nails on his ass as she slid her hands down the back of his sweats. She was so fucking passionate she was killing him. His lips skimmed the marks on her neck, wanting to erase them from existence.
Frida’s back arched as he took her nipple in his mouth and suckled, her hands all over his back as he felt the heat of her core so close to his dick with just the thin barrier of fabric between then.
“Please, Malco, I need you,” she begged, her voice rough with desire.
Pulling away, he stood and pushed his sweats down as he grabbed a condom from the drawer beside his bed and rolled it over his hard length. Her eyes followed every move he made, and he was almost dizzy with need for this woman. Bending, he lifted her hips and skimmed the shorts down over her hips, taking her panties with him.
“Perfect.” He couldn’t stop the growl as he looked at her perfect pussy. Putting his knee in the bed, he bent over her, admiring her body. He leaned forward and kissed his way down her body, lavishing attention on every inch of her skin.
His two fingers moved over her clit, and she arched toward him, a breathy moan slipping past her lips that made his dick bob.
Malco leaned in and buried his face in her sweet pussy, her taste exploding on his lips, and he lifted her to him, his hands on her curvy, sweet ass. He felt her legs begin to shake as her climax built, her clit pulsing beneath his tongue.
“Malco, oh fuck.” Malco eased off until he was gently kissing her, then he sat up and crawled over her.
“This okay?”
“Yes. I want you, Malco.”
Laying his body flush to hers, he pushed into her, stopping as her tight heat enveloped him. He wasn’t going to last long at this rate. She was fucking perfection.
“Move,” she begged.
Malco began to move, and she lifted against him until they were in perfect rhythm, each chasing the promised release. He felt her legs clench against his side and lock behind his back. His hands threaded through hers and held them overhead as a keening moan escaped, and he fucked her through her second climax. All the while, he tried to hold his at bay until he couldn’t any longer, and his orgasm barreled through him, leaving him panting as he collapsed down next to her.
“Wow!” she breathed.
Yeah, wow was right. He had a feeling he’d just developed a full-fledged addiction to Frida Montalvo, and he had no intention of fighting it.
Chapter Sixteen
Heaven couldn’t be more perfect than lying against Malco’s warm body as dawn filtered through the windows. Frida couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply. Certainly not in the last few years, that was for sure. And then there was the silence. Away from the city, Malco’s home was a peaceful haven. Relaxed and rested, Frida wanted to rub herself like a cat against Malco, but she knew he was beyond tired too. Since she’d fallen through the Agency’s doorway, nobody, especially Malco, had got enough rest thanks to the investigation, research, and danger surrounding them.
As softly as she could, she slid off the bed and grabbed her top, shorts, and phone before tiptoeing out, but not before taking one last look at the magnificent male specimen sprawled on the bed. He was golden skin and muscles, with the sheet haphazardly protecting his modesty, she traced the lines and sinews with her gaze as if to etch them in her mind for later. Her eyes caught on his amputated limb, peeking from the covers, and again wondered what had happened. Had it happened during his time as a Green Beret? Or after?
Answers would have to be for later, and she retreated to the kitchen, leaving him to rest. She went to the other bathroom down the hall to wash her face, and the bluish marks left on her neck by Kasten made her wince. She didn’t regret pushing the cop. In doing so, he’d answered all her questions with just the look on his face. However, she regretted scaring Malco. Nothing in what she’d done had been premeditated, but nonetheless, the haunted look on Malco’s face when he kneeled beside her twisted her heart.
As silently as she could, Frida brewed a pot of coffee and, with one steaming cup in hand, went to sit in the living room facing the wall of windows overlooking the garden. There was a patio with lounge chairs on the other side, but she didn’t want to trigger any of the alarms set for the property.
Curling up on the couch, she took the first sip and sighed, enjoying the moment. Her body felt deliciously sore, and it was easy to remember the reason why. Malco had made her body his, and she could still feel his possession on her skin. And under. She’d never felt that connection with another man. It wasn’t just the sex, but something stronger and undeniable. It scared her a little to be so vulnerable to another human being that way.
Her brain was convinced Malco was a man that could be trusted with her life, but her heart fluttered a little with hesitation. With a lawyer’s perspective, she asked herself if she could only sleep with him and leave him forever after that without regret, and that gave her a clear answer. The thought of never seeing him again was much scarier than taking the leap with him. There was so much more she wanted to know about him, and experience with him.
Her thoughts were flying fast, but she also knew that what was between them wasn’t planned, and there were more dangers they needed to take care of before things could progress.
Reluctantly, Frida took her phone and scrolled through her missed calls and messages. Nothing dire or urgent, which was nothing short of a miracle, but there was a message from Rina telling her she’d received a message from Kasten saying that if she ever spoke to him again, he’d file a harassment complaint against her. That almost made her laugh and proved he was all bark and no bite, not in the light of justice at least.
Her assistant was still digging and gathering more and more data on the money transfers but without anything definitive or proof solid enough to face a judge.
They were doing this all wrong. Even the Alliance Agency couldn’t take down corrupt cops and the gangs in one fell swoop. It was like treating a gangrenous leg with chamomile.
The primary objective now was to save those kids from being forced into the gang, and that meant stopping the Blood Razors, which meant stopping Kasten and Pool.
Pool was keeping his position as the city’s DA, and that was both unacceptable and a hindrance.
A plan was slowly forming in her head, but she wasn’t sure if it were feasible, or if she’d be asking too much of the team.
Her expertise wasn’t as an operative, but as a lawyer. She knew what she needed to bring those bastards down, and if she had her way, not a single bullet would be shot.
Lost in her thoughts, Frida didn’t hear the sound of someone approaching until warm lips kissed the crook of her neck. With a yelp, she dropped her empty cup, but her heart settled when a low chuckle came from behind the sofa.
“I didn’t want to scare you, but I couldn’t resist, with your hair up and that delicious neck of yours on display.”
With a hand
on her chest, Frida put the cup and phone on the coffee table before turning to her smiling prankster. “Next time, make some noise. That way, instead of jumping, I would’ve leaned in.”
He leisurely walked around and took her into his arms. “Lean in now, please, and kiss me, temptress.”
With a smile, she complied and tasted fresh mint on his lips. As her head started to cloud again, Malco nipped at her bottom lip and stepped away. His smile turned to a frown when his fingertips skimmed the bluish marks on her throat. Without a word, he looked away and went to the coffee pot.
“You were miles away. Care to tell me what you were thinking about so hard?”
Frida hadn’t known him for long, but his body language spoke volumes. As soon as he saw the marks, his body grew taller and tense. The distance he put between them was either to contain his anger at Kasten or toward her.
His broad back was to her as he looked outside, a cup in his hand.
Instead of answering his question, she went to him and pressed her front against his back, her arms circling his torso.
It took a long moment for her to finally hear him exhale and relax in her embrace. He put his cup down and put his rough hand over hers.
“I’m sorry if I scared you, Malco. I’m sorry about what happened with Kasten. When I walked in, I swear I was going to follow the plan, but when he dismissed me, I knew I had to push hard. It would be my only chance to get that proof I was looking for so we can move forward. I was planning to leave via the front door, but I didn’t think. I don’t have a death wish, honest. I just want to bring them down and save those kids. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Very slowly, he turned in her embrace, and once they faced each other, his face was much calmer, with a sad smile on his lips, reaching his dark eyes. “I’m not mad at you, mi alma.” His voice rasped at that powerful endearment. My soul wasn’t used lightly, and it caught her by surprise, stealing her breath as she listened to him. “I’m mad at myself, at my fucking leg. If I had my two legs, I would’ve been quicker. I would’ve arrived sooner and prevented this. I’m mad at myself for not being the protector you deserve. I’m the one who’s sorry, Frida.”