Little Dove

by Layla Frost

  He held out a bottle of sunblock.

  Oh. Right.

  I rolled over and closed my eyes as he crouched to apply the lotion to my back and nape, massaging it in. His skilled fingers moved down, nearing my ass.

  My breath caught, anticipation rioting in me. It whooshed out in a disappointed rush when he stood, taking his touch with him.

  No, this is good. If he touches me, I’ll lose my head, and things will get even messier.

  This is good.

  Then why does it hurt so bad?

  Without a word, he turned around and moved to the deck. Sitting on the patio couch, he stretched an arm across the back of it and stared down at his phone.

  Tearing my attention from him, I flipped onto my back, but without my iPad to read, I was bored and restless. It was doubtful the chlorinated water would feel good on my face, so swimming was out.

  Floating wasn’t, though.

  Going to the pool house, I grabbed a lounge floaty and dragged it into the water. Once I was situated with my Diet Coke, floating under the shade of the canopy, I’d hoped my mind and body would relax.

  They didn’t.

  Because even in the peaceful quiet, my thoughts were at a roar.

  Whore!

  Rat!

  Nothing!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Lies

  Maximo

  THREE DAYS.

  Three long-as-hell days.

  And with each passing one, Juliet pulled away more, sinking into herself.

  I had no idea what to do.

  I wanted to force her to tell me what she was thinking. I wanted her to not tense and flinch every time I touched her.

  I wanted her to smile at me.

  Sitting in my office with the door propped open, I didn’t check any of the emails waiting for me. I didn’t go through my messages, other than the reports from the men—all of which were dead-ends.

  Instead, my eyes and my mind were on Juliet as she worked across the hall.

  She needed time. I got that. But rather than things improving, they were getting worse.

  Something had to change.

  As though I’d summoned her with my thoughts, Juliet got up and came to stand in my doorway. Dressed in a pair of short shorts and a tee that hung off her shoulder, she was so beautiful, it fucking hurt to look at her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun—she hadn’t worn it in a ponytail since that day. My marks were gone from her neck completely. That bastard’s bruises were there but fading.

  Her body was healing, but the lost look in her green eyes said her mind was far behind.

  When she didn’t enter, I ordered, “Come here, little dove.”

  She didn’t.

  Staying where she was, Juliet straightened her spine, giving me a stubborn lift of her chin.

  And then she gutted me when, in a casual tone, she dropped a bomb.

  “I want to move out.”

  Juliet

  My heart was jammed in my throat, choking me as it hammered away. I didn’t want to look at Maximo, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his blank face.

  “Repeat that,” he ordered, statue still.

  Inhaling deep, I repeated the words I’d barely been able to force out the first time. “I want to move out.”

  Maximo stood so fast, his chair slammed into the window, hitting with such force, I was surprised it didn’t shatter. Despite how quickly he’d gotten up, his approach was slow. Prowling. Stalking.

  Hunting.

  It took all my willpower not to flee like a gazelle fruitlessly racing from a lion.

  “I must have misheard you,” Maximo rumbled, forced composure in his low, scary tone.

  “I’m moving out,” I said, firmer and more definitive, even though I felt anything but.

  “No.”

  I’d known it wouldn’t be easy—normal breakups rarely were, and Maximo and I were far from normal. But I’d anticipated more than a simple no.

  “You can’t just say no,” I said.

  “We’ve been through this, Juliet. I can and I did.”

  “Well… I don’t accept your no.”

  “And I don’t accept your asinine idea to move out.”

  “It’s not asinine.”

  “It is.”

  I crossed my arms, growing more irritated. “Think what you want, but it doesn’t change—”

  “It does.”

  “I’m moving—”

  “You’re not,” he interrupted again.

  Letting out a frustrated huff because he was really starting to piss me off, I snapped, “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

  “I’m your Daddy, little dove. That’s exactly what I get to do.”

  “No, you’re not. You never were. This whole thing is stupid and a mistake and I fucking hate it!”

  Maximo’s head jerked back as if I’d slapped him.

  Even as I tried to tell myself my outburst was warranted, guilt ate at me. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to lie to him. But he was making it so much harder than it had to be.

  I couldn’t deal. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid.

  Turning, I didn’t make it two steps when he caught my arm and spun me back. In a blink, he had me in his office with the door kicked closed and me pressed against it. With his forearms to the wood, he caged me in.

  “Don’t lie to me, Juliet. And don’t lie to yourself. You love this as much as I do. You get off on it—your pretty little pussy always so soaked.” Even with the control he had over his anger, there was unfettered desperation saturating his voice. “You need it. Need me.”

  God, it hurt.

  I wanted to lean into his body. Tip my head back so he could take my mouth. Or tilt to the side so he could mark my neck. And for the briefest of seconds, I forgot why that was a bad idea.

  But then I remembered.

  Whore.

  Rat.

  Nothing.

  Training.

  Using.

  Lies!

  “I don’t love it,” I coldly lied. “And I don’t need it or you. Now back up.”

  “No,” Maximo gritted out, his own tone glacial.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you want to go?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  He gave a harsh, humorless laugh. “This I’ve gotta hear.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t just say no,” he said, throwing my words back at me.

  “If you get to do it, so can I.” We were talking in circles, each one wrapping tighter around my neck until I could barely breathe. I tried to move to the side, but he didn’t budge. “What does it even matter? We’re over.”

  “We’re far from over.”

  “We are.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said—”

  “Why?”

  “I said so—”

  “Why?” he roared, his palms slamming the door next to my head.

  “Because you don’t want me!” I roared right back, losing my temper and, with it, my filter. “I know about your MO. I know about everything. Now let me go!”

  Undeterred by my anger, his tone was unnervingly calm. “What exactly is my MO?”

  “Breaking in naïve girls and training them to work at the fights,” I blurted, too pissed off and hurt to think.

  I’d seen Maximo cold. Hot. Scary. Scary hot. I’d seen him shutdown, and I’d seen him totally open and at ease.

  But never, in the entire time I’d known him, had I seen him so enraged. His body practically vibrated with it, his narrowed eyes filled with so much hatred, it tore at me. “That motherfucker tell you that?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you believed him?”

  No.

  Yes.

  Kind of.

  “Yeah, you believed him.” His jaw clenched as he rubbed his hand over it. “That’s fine ‘cause he’s right… I have been training you.”

  CHAPTER THI
RTY

  Truth

  Juliet

  IT’S TRUE.

  At his blunt confirmation, the air was pushed from my lungs like I’d been pummeled. My heart shattered into a million pieces as the tiny shred of hope I’d clung to was violently ripped apart.

  Looking to the side, I fought to keep it together until I was alone. Only then would I let myself be violently ripped apart, too.

  Maximo shifted, and I thought he was going to let me escape with my tail tucked between my legs. But he gripped my hair and forced my head back so my eyes met his blazing ones. “I’ve been training you to take my cock the way I like. To suck it down your throat and to keep going even when you’re gagging. To follow my rules, to listen to me, to finally fucking trust me. I’ve been training you to be mine. No one else’s.” He shook his head, scowling. “I want to kill every bastard who looks at you. You think I’d let someone else touch you? Touch what’s mine?” His tone was sharp, its edge lethal. “Do you want to know what happens to someone who touches you, Juliet?”

  I shook my head, not knowing what he’d say but still certain my answer was no.

  “Too bad. I’ve been holding back, careful not to scare you. That was clearly the wrong move because it allowed that motherfucker to get in your head. That’s Daddy’s mistake, and it won’t happen again. From now on, you get all of me because you’re damn sure going to give me all of you.”

  If this has been him holding back, what’s unrestrained?

  Maximo’s focus dropped to my side as he tugged my shirt up. Slowly, he ran a finger along the scar above my hip. A cruel smile curved his lips before he lifted his head to aim that smile at me. “Told you he’d be dead.”

  My breath came in rough pants.

  He had told me. I just hadn’t believed him.

  By the time I’d known better than to underestimate Maximo, his threat, the Sullivans, and their goon were long forgotten.

  “I didn’t let him off easy. I took my time. I made it hurt. And when I buried my blade for the last time,” he skimmed his knuckle along the scar, just as he’d done the first time he’d seen it, “it was right here.”

  He studied me, waiting for my response.

  If I was a good person, I’d have screamed.

  Bolted from him.

  Called the cops.

  But I wasn’t a good person. Because rather than mourning a lost life or being horrified in the face of viciousness, warmth spread through me. Maximo had defended me when no one in my life ever had. He’d been willing to go to war for me. He’d taken care of me.

  Which was why, rather than any of the sane things I should’ve done, I whispered, “Thank you.”

  There was a flash of something in his dark gaze before he pushed. “Thank you who?”

  But I didn’t give him what he wanted.

  Maximo didn’t look pissed at my silence. No, he smiled again—menacing and wicked.

  Taking hold of my hips, he shifted us across the room to his desk. He turned me in his hold, bending me over the desk and keeping me in place with a hand between my shoulders. Papers and his keyboard fell to the ground, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

  He tugged my shorts and panties down to my thighs, kicking my feet apart so the fabric stayed taut, digging in.

  My brain finally caught up, and I tried to stand, but his hold stayed firm. “Maximo—”

  “I knew you didn’t trust me yet, Juliet. I knew you were holding back. But I didn’t think you trusted me so little that you’d believe Mugsy fucking Carmichael over me.” His palm landed with a stinging slap to my ass. “We’ll fix that.”

  My yelp grew to a shout when two more landed on the same spot.

  Stop.

  One single word.

  One single syllable.

  I knew it was all I needed to say, and he would stop instantly.

  Yet I didn’t say it. I didn’t even think about it.

  “What did Carmichael say to you?” he asked, as though it were a normal conversation and he wasn’t spanking my ass crimson.

  I opened my mouth to lie, but it was the truth that spilled out between my pained cries. “That you were training me to sell me to the highest bidder.”

  “Don’t sell pussy like a damn auctioneer. What else?”

  “Or make me one of your whores at your fights.”

  “I don’t have whores.”

  “Fine, your girls who are there because those men have winning personalities.”

  “Attitude, Juliet,” he warned, a hard slap landing on my upper thigh. “The girls come from escort services. I let them work the fights. That’s the extent of my role.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to know what you do?” I bit out through the pain. “You never talk to me about your work.”

  “That’s because when I’m with you, I don’t want to think about that bullshit. I want to selfishly savor the peace and distraction you offer. But if it makes you feel excluded, then it’s another of Daddy’s mistakes.” A blow hit the other thigh. “What else?”

  “That I betrayed my father by being with you. That I’m a whore and a rat.” The familiar guilt settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe. “He asked what kind of daughter would do that to her father.”

  “The kind with a piece-of-shit father who didn’t deserve loyalty.”

  “I never even cried,” I admitted as his palm caught the upper cheek, the sharp slap sounding around us. “I cried for the snake I killed in the desert but not my own father.”

  “He didn’t deserve your tears, either.”

  “I never felt guilty for being with you. I felt guilty for not feeling guilty.”

  “You shouldn’t feel guilty, period.” Another two. “What else?”

  “That I’m greedy and money hungry.”

  “You’re far from either. In fact, you’re a pain in my ass when it comes to accepting gifts without argument. What else?”

  “That it’s just sex.”

  “If all I wanted was this perfect pussy, I wouldn’t hate our time apart. I wouldn’t rearrange my schedule to work from home or bring you to the office with me. You’re smart and clever and creative and stubborn and determined and loyal and countless other things I’m obsessed with.” His hand connected twice, warming my ass as his words warmed my insides. “What else?”

  At what was left, the warmth he’d created was replaced by jagged shards of ice that left my insides frozen and sliced apart.

  I swallowed, unable to force the words out. I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to bring it to his attention if he still hadn’t figured it out himself.

  I didn’t want to shine a blinding spotlight on the truth.

  At my hesitation, his hand came down on the same spot three times. “What else?”

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  Wrong move.

  The next one landed on my pussy, making tears burn in my eyes, though they still wouldn’t fall. Spanking there again, he ordered, “Don’t ever lie to me, Juliet.”

  Three more piercing smacks connected, and it was all I could stand. Like a dam in my mind was demolished, the words flowed out in an unbridled rush. “He asked why someone like you would want me. I’m not special. Just gutter trash. Temporary.” Finally, the tears spilled free, and once they started, they wouldn’t stop. My voice filled with so much sorrow, it couldn’t hold it all and broke as I admitted, “I’m nothing.”

  His hand rained down a series of rapid-fire slaps, heat and tingles spreading across my skin.

  And I sobbed.

  Everything I’d kept buried deep inside came pouring out with my tears. All the fears and insecurities. The guilt. The self-loathing.

  Mugsy had planted seeds of doubt. Thanks to my insecurities, those seeds had grown and spread like snaking vines to take over everything.

  With his punishment, Maximo cleared away the mess that’d taken root in my head. My thoughts untangled and disintegrated as my mind went blissfully blank. Tension eased from my b
ody, and I sank into the desk.

  “That’s my girl,” he said, his hand connecting in a hard blow that soothed me like a gentle caress. “Let it all go.”

  His words offered absolution and his pain offered peace.

  I wanted both.

  Needed them.

  “I believed him,” I whispered on a shuddering exhale. “I thought you didn’t want me. That you were moving on to someone else. Someone better.” I couldn’t keep the accusation from my tone when I pointed out, “You haven’t touched me. Not even to hold me at night.”

  Three days.

  Three days of him close, yet so far away. Not touching me. Barely kissing me. Hardly even talking.

  Jealousy had twisted in my gut each time I’d seen him on the phone. Mugsy’s words had echoed through my head, and I’d wondered if Maximo was talking to my replacement.

  A new little dove.

  “Jesus, Daddy fucked up.” Maximo’s palm skimmed over my sore ass. “I thought you needed space, but giving it to you fed right into his bullshit lies.” He squeezed a cheek, the sting increasing until more tears spilled free. “Won’t happen again. No space. No time. No leniency. No holding back.”

  That should’ve been terrifying, but instead, it sent a surge of relief and joy through me. I didn’t give a damn if it made me needy or codependent, I wanted it. All of it.

  All of him.

  Releasing me, Maximo pressed his hand under me to cup my pussy. He curved his body over mine and curled his other hand around my throat. His hard cock pressed against my inflamed skin, making it burn. Making me burn. “And if you think I didn’t wrap myself around you like this every night after you fell asleep, you’re out of your mind. Can’t sleep without you in my arms.”

  God, I’d been so stupid.

  Keeping his possessive hold on me, Maximo straightened us to stand with my back pressed to his front. He pushed my shorts and panties the rest of the way off before turning us toward the wall of blank monitors. “I watched you. All the damn time.”

  My pulse went wild as my brain short-circuited.

  Is he saying…

  Even though he must’ve felt my thumping pulse, he continued, not holding anything back—just like he’d promised. “Camera in your sitting room. Had one in your bedroom until I didn’t have the willpower to keep it turned off.” Grazing his lips and teeth against my neck in a too light tease, he raised his head to my ear to whisper, “Want to know when that was?”