Falcon

by Bex Dane

  "I would not end it just because Thorne returned. He will be happy for you too. And the money is in the past. Let it go. If it is over between you two, end it. But it looks far from over to me. You're just beginning."

  "No. Not risking my heart like that. Not with Falcon. Far too dangerous."

  "Danger can be fun. Why are you playing it so safe lately? That's unlike you. Seize the day and be your true self."

  I moved my plate back in front of me to signal this conversation was over. I picked at the pasta but didn't take a bite.

  Should I listen to her? Soledad always gave me good advice. But I also just found out she'd been lying to me for years. I didn't know where I stood with anyone.

  "I'm not sure what is going to happen, but let's not talk about this anymore."

  "Okay, but know this. I love you and I support you whatever choice you make."

  "Thank you. I love you too. Very much."

  Chapter 11

  Fueled by frustration with Falcon, the next show went better than any of the previous ones.

  The passion in my voice came from all the pent up hormones, the embarrassment about the secret money, and the consuming fear my detente with Falcon would end soon.

  As usual, Matteo played off me with his unique brand of machismo and intoxicating voice, and we left the stage to another standing ovation and shouts of "Bravo."

  With no words, Falcon attacked me as soon as we entered the privacy of my dressing room. Dressed as Egyptian princess and warrior, we banged around the room with our lips locked and hands clinging to each other in a fierce embrace.

  I slowly snuck my hand inside my top and pulled my dress down, exposing my nipples to him for the first time. Second base. I had crossed the unspoken line in the sand.

  It worked too because the second my nipple came out, his hot mouth locked on it and teased, swirled, and nipped. He mumbled in Spanish how it tasted like a fresh batch of tequila straight from the barrel. I'd never experienced the taste, but I assumed it was a delicacy in the breweries where he grew up.

  I had him hooked. But, oh God, he had me on the line too because I'd say anything to keep his mouth on my nipple. Every brutal flick of his tongue shot sizzling arcs of lightning straight between my legs.

  My nipples were a huge erogenous zone for me, and his rough treatment could bring me to orgasm without even touching me below. My arms quaked, my head fell back, but I didn't moan.

  No, he wouldn't get that from me until I got what I wanted and he had nothing. Then I would be the winner and he the loser.

  I reached under his warrior skirt, and my heart soared when he didn't push my hand away. I gripped his gigantic length through his tights. As I squeezed the frighteningly huge member, my teeth ground together to stifle a groan. The metallic balls stuck out like weapons, unforgiving and lethal. The tip reached to the waistband of his tights, begging to be freed.

  As I reached inside and my fingers brushed the soft tip of skin pulled tight over the head, he snapped out of his nipple haze and his hand gripped the back of mine, pulling me away.

  I growled like a caged lion as I did every time we reached this point. "Do not stop me." My words came out rough and angry, the threat clear in the sharp slice of my voice.

  His head rose and he met my gaze with molten, fiery blue eyes, like a beast who had been lit on fire. "Admit your marriage is fake." He spoke to me for the first time since before my dinner with Soledad.

  I'd fought hard to protect Thorne. He deserved my fidelity. But Falcon possessed unsurpassed skills of interrogation and an unbreakable will, probably ingrained in him by the military. I didn't stand a chance. I had to outsmart him.

  Maybe I could give him this first one, and he'd give up on the other two. "Fine. My marriage is fake."

  He grinned like he'd won. I guess in a way he had. "Progress." He kissed down my breast to take a nipple in his mouth again.

  His lips trailed kisses up to my mouth, and his tongue dove in for his victory lap.

  He ended the kiss and stared at me. "Why?"

  I'd already chipped a hole in the bucket. Might as well let it flow now. "I had earned a bad reputation."

  His eyes widened and a hint of anger flashed through them. He must not have read the old gossip about me.

  "I'd been through several men. Famous men. They said I sucked blood like a vampire because of my teeth. A slut. None of it was true. I was the one getting my heart broken by men who disappointed me. In opera, there is a huge double standard. Men can do as they wish in their personal lives. The sopranos and mezzos must be considered pure. The media portrayed me as unreliable because I couldn't maintain a relationship in my personal life. It's bullshit. I can sing consistently no matter what happens off stage, but they began a smear campaign against me as a lead. I went broke for lack of work."

  His eyes changed as he listened. I'd shared very personal information with him. I trusted him with something he could use against me if he chose to. But I could see in his eyes, he didn't like the story or the opera world judging me negatively. Maybe it was his natural protectiveness, or maybe he didn't like me going through men, but a warm glow grew in my heart at his apparent concern for me.

  "You didn't change your teeth?" he asked.

  I'd thought about it briefly. "No. They make me who I am and any kind of procedure could affect my voice."

  "So how did you end up married to Thorne?"

  "Gaspar took pity on me. He is a compassionate person. He introduced me to Thorne and suggested we marry for appearances. Thorne's family is homophobic. They threatened to disown him if he came out. He doesn't care about them or the public opinion. Many dancers are openly gay, but he has a teenage brother who is questioning his own sexuality. Thorne wants to maintain a relationship with his parents until his brother is eighteen and can get away."

  I took a deep breath. I'd never told the whole story to anyone before, and I felt drained having to verbalize the pain I'd endured the last two years as I fought to revive my career.

  "Shall we resume?" I needed my mind off this and back on his pierced dick. I reached under his skirt again but he stopped me. Darn.

  "Come clean about the murders."

  I shook my head. I couldn't give him that. I just couldn't. I pulled my shoulders back and held my breath like I'd done every time he asked this question.

  He eyes narrowed. "State your given name." His voice demanded I answer.

  Why did he need this one? The one thing I absolutely refused to give him. "You say yours."

  "Primitivo Borrego de la Cruz." He said it easily, like he didn't just admit to being the son of a murderous narco boss.

  "You proclaim it so freely? You negate the existence of Seth Falcon Hendrix when you confess to being Primitivo."

  His nostrils flared. "I don't admit it freely. Only to you. Only right now. It's who I am and all the negativity that comes with it. I am also Seth Falcon Hendrix and all the bullshit that comes with being him." He bent his head and stared at my naked breast.

  I pulled up the fabric to cover my nipples. "What bullshit comes with him?"

  He stepped back and when he looked up at me, his eyes had cooled. "Seth Hendrix is a sniper."

  "You mean was? You're not enlisted now, are you?"

  He shook his head slowly. "I'm a private contractor. Get hired to do sniper work. Not always for the military."

  "You kill people? Are you evil like your father?"

  A muscle in his neck pulsed and he took another step away. "Not like my father. Never like him. Don't compare me to him ever again."

  "Okay. I'm sorry." I had been unfair. He'd shared something private with me, and I'd thrown his father's name in his face.

  "Can I trust you to keep my given name confidential? My father finds out, he'll hunt me down and try to kill me."

  "I won't say anything. We both have our secrets."

  He nodded and looked around the room before his pretty blue eyes came back to me. "You have some hidden agenda to get
revenge on me for failing to find Claudia?"

  The pain of Tivo saying my mother's name rocked me to the core. My shoulders hunched and my arms wrapped around my middle. "You promised me you'd bring her back."

  "Yeah."

  "You didn't."

  "No. I'm sorry." He sounded sincere and tired, like the apology weighed heavy on him.

  "What happened?" I knew the answer would be painful, but I needed to know so I wouldn't keep wondering and blaming Falcon.

  "I took my father's money. Left him with nothing. He joined forces with Manuel. I didn't have the skills to go in alone. Signed up for the Army. Perfected my shooting. Anytime I was on leave or not on a mission, I searched for Claudia. Couldn't find her. Assumed she was dead. Manuel and his men paid for her life with theirs."

  This tore me up. Part of me wanted to thank him for killing Manuel. At least he got what he deserved. Another part hated Falcon for giving up the hunt for my mom, but also felt guilty that he sacrificed so much of his life to search for her. I'd relinquished my life to search for her too. We both tried. We both failed.

  "She's not dead."

  He stared at me with dark eyes, wrinkles forming at the edges. "I hope you're right."

  He rubbed his face from forehead to chin. Grief came off him. Or maybe my grief had taken over the room. Either way, the raging hormones were gone.

  "We're done here tonight." He stood and left me alone in my dressing room. Again. This time I was drained emotionally and physically. Fine. Let him leave.

  We had one more night. One final showdown. I had only given in to one of his demands. He'd shared part of himself with me.

  It was still a tie. I had not admitted my name even though we talked about the past. We didn't touch on the murders.

  I'd recover from this and come back to win again. It's what I did. I always had strength for the final encore.

  My inner muse wept. She didn't want this performance to end. She wanted to keep battling with Falcon through many shows.

  No. Tomorrow this game ended. The Superbowl of battles. The fat lady would sing and the final curtain would fall.

  ***

  His mouth had been glued to my breasts for thirty minutes. My tights lay on the floor. Back in my dressing room after the last show of the run, my ass was on the table as he stood between my legs.

  We had repeated our pre-combat preparations. The show had wowed the audience again. At the VIP greeting, Matteo helped me by staying close. He didn't go so far as to kiss me, but he'd kept his arm around my shoulder. Falcon's mouth had turned down each time Matteo whispered something in my ear.

  Now, Falcon had my skirt pushed up, his hands caressing my thighs. He only needed to move his hand or his mouth to my core and I'd win. He'd make me moan without forcing me to give him what he wanted.

  His head rose, eyes pleading, his mouth red and his jaw slack. "I want to eat your pussy for hours."

  Good lord. "Yes, do it."

  "You're gonna moan, mi carina. So loud we'll need privacy."

  Yes! I won! "Okay. My hotel room. Let's go now." I caressed his head and gripped his ponytail at the base of his neck. My words were breathless.

  "Come clean about the murders." His voice begged me.

  Shoot. Darn.

  "It's our last chance, Falcon. Let's not ruin it with that. Please just take me to my hotel. Don't ask questions."

  "Answer the question and we're out of here. If you don't, I leave right now. I'm off this assignment. Done playing games with you. "

  I chewed my lip as I stared at him. I'd pushed him too far. I didn't want him to leave. "Okay. I'll answer one more question, but that's it. I believe the murders were a warning sign to me."

  He nodded, unsurprised. "What kind of warning sign?"

  "I don't know. Maybe a crazy fan."

  He gave me a dubious stare. Most of my fans were senior citizens or very tranquil people.

  "Own your name." Good. He didn't ask more about the murders. He was as eager as I was to get through this part.

  I closed my eyes. Fine. It wouldn't be a true loss if I gave in on this because I'd get what I wanted, which was Falcon to make me moan. I'd say anything right now to get him in bed.

  "Alright. I will say it. But we'll never bring it up again."

  "Works for me. Say it so I can finally fuck you."

  I took a deep breath and held it, forcing each word out slowly. "I am Magdalena Claudia Esperanza." My voice broke off and I looked down at his hands on my thighs. "My mom was a whore. I lost her one night when a man tried to shoot up the brothel. I left Mexico without her. I loved her so much." Tears burned behind my eyes, but I fought them back with anger that showed in my voice. "Magdalena does not exist anymore." My fists clenched and opened. I couldn't look into his eyes. They knew too many details. "I'm saying it to you now because I want you to fuck me long and hard. I want to moan. I've wanted it since I was fifteen. Tonight is the night. Make me moan, Primitivo. Make me moan like no one has."

  I looked up at him, and his eyes had softened. The heat was still there but kindness shined through. It reminded me of the way he'd looked at me when I'd cried all those years ago. He caressed my leg up and down gently and reached up to swipe a tear from my cheek. "Okay, mi paloma." I gasped as a word I hadn't heard in a long time brushed my ear. My dove. "Okay." He stepped back and handed me my robe. "Change quickly. We'll go to your hotel."

  I sat in stunned silence as I watched the muscles of his back move. He took his gun and his street clothes with him into the bathroom. He'd remembered the song about the dove I used to sing. I had forgotten. But he'd remembered.

  As I changed, I looked in the mirror. Fifteen-year-old Magdalena stared back at me, her hair loose, her lips red and puffy, eyes wet and shocked.

  She clutched her robe to her chest, shocked by all that had just happened.

  "Did we win?" I asked my inner teenager.

  "Who knows? But I'm so freakin' excited. It feels like we won. It doesn't matter. Go get dressed. Go, go, go! Let me at him! And relax a little. Enjoy it. Whatever you do, don't get in my way!"

  Chapter 12

  Falcon

  Never worked this hard for a fuck in my life. Never let a chick drag me along by the balls like this.

  Aida engaged the grab-twist-pull technique, sucking me in with her curves, kissing me like she wanted me to own her, then pulling the vulnerable card at the end and shutting me down.

  My masochistic side embraced the pain like jumping into a scalding hot shower.

  Burn me again, baby.

  Turn my balls cobalt blue.

  I'll take it and come back for more.

  Disappointed she caved tonight. I thought we'd carry on necking like teenagers indefinitely. When I'd found her waiting for me with her tights off, I knew the end was near.

  Her defenses cracked when I'd attacked her tight pink nipples like a man possessed. Worked them hard, took my time, drove her to the precipice, and tested her again.

  I wasn't surprised the nipple torture broke her resolve.

  What I didn't expect was the rawness of the truth or the pain admitting her name would cause her. Genuine tears pooled in her eyes, not the ones she manufactured for her audience.

  I wasn't prepared to see Magdalena confess she'd wanted me since she was fifteen. And I wasn't prepared for my reaction. Wanting to take emotion from her. I took emotion from no one. Always on them. Not my show, not my monkey.

  But who could push away a captivating, strong-willed woman like Aida when she had her legs spread, her breasts naked, and her secrets on the table?

  Even my frozen soul thawed a little.

  Sure, guilt played a part of it. I'd failed to deliver on my promise. Not sure fucking her made amends for any of that, but it was all I could give.

  I came out of the bathroom, and she had changed into a tight black skirt that ended in a ruffle below her knees. Oversized red flowers were plastered all over her black blouse. She looked luscious in the skirt and
red strappy heels, but the whole ensemble was coming off as soon as possible.

  Her skin glowed from washing her stage makeup off, and her eyes were wide and bright with the new makeup she had applied.

  She stumbled as I grabbed her hand. I tugged her through the theatre to the SUV in the parking garage, strapped her in the front seat, and hit the road.

  The emotion she'd experienced remained heady between us in the car, but as I channeled my thoughts to the various ways I wanted to fuck her, the air changed to pure sex. Definitely start with her on her back. I'd only had her sitting up so far. I wanted her on her back spread eagle before me. Let her feel the full effect of my apa and ladder the first time. She'd moan then. No doubt she'd moan the first time.

  Second time on her hands and knees. More moaning. Brought a crop with me in case she was open to it. Not sure she'd get off on a stinging ass. She seemed a little self-conscious about her ample backside. She'd let me tease her tits though. She had taken the tapping, pinching, and biting like a champ. Not many women liked the stuff that turned me on, but she loved it. She didn't beg for more because she was holding back, but if she let loose, she'd be a wild animal begging for the crop.

  And I was hard again.

  She wiggled in her seat and fiddled with her hair. Her exotic scent filled the car. Smooth like rain forest and sweet like champagne. As the street lights passed over her face, all I could think was damn, the girl grew up hot as fuck.

  I called up Blaze. "I'm on halls and walls for the canary tonight."

  She gave me the one-eyed raised brow she did when I used the code name we'd given her.

  "You sure? I got Oz scheduled to arrive in fifteen." Blaze always had trouble adjusting to last minute changes.

  "Release him for tonight. I got it covered."

  I heard steps and a door closing to block out the background noise. "She's married, Falc."