Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1)

by MariaLisa deMora

  She blew air out between her teeth, pulled back and stared into his eyes. Hers were flashing, and he knew why when she said, “Dios! Estoy tan enojado con ella! So pissed at her, I could spit. Little fresa? Pinche puta thinks she can put her hands on my man?” Palms flat against his chest, she made a face he thought was adorable, but he knew better than to say anything when she slapped his chest with both hands and yelled. “Dios! Esa perra estupida de una mujer. Donde esta ella? Where is she? Puta better watch her back.”

  “Luce, baby.” She was nearly quivering with anger, and he realized this gave him something else he needed her to know. “Never had this, baby. Someone who cared so much they’d go to war for me.” He remembered the men he left in the room with Benita and scoffed. “But, all this went down in the backroom at Marie’s, and the guys got in on it. I left her there with Slate, Mason, and Bear.” Lucia pulled in a breath, but he squeezed her and shook his head, cutting off what she’d been about to say. “She bought anything that happens to her. What you saw…” He swallowed hard, then said, “What the guys heard. They were…well…mad doesn’t cover it.”

  “And they gave that to you today, yes?” He nodded and she smiled up at him, not a tip of the lips, but a full, broad smile, showing him she knew exactly what it meant. “You are well loved, Benjamin.” Moving in, she pressed those beautiful lips to his, whispering just before she kissed him hard, the beautiful emotions evoked by her actions leading to his hands slipping down her back to cup her also beautiful ass. “Well loved.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Lying next to a sleeping Lucia in his bed, Benny’s fingers trailed over her shoulder, tracing an imaginary line down her arm. Using his fingertip, he slowly wrote out the words of his love song on her skin, singing along in his head.

  If you’d told me I’d see her once and be hooked,

  I’d laugh at you.

  If you’d told me her beauty would call to me in the night,

  I’d laugh at you.

  If you’d promised me a lifetime of beauty like hers,

  I’d laugh at you.

  Knowing nothing

  Nothing is as sweet,

  Nothing is as pure,

  As the promise of love.

  There’s a moment in time where your heart knows,

  Mine beats for you

  Never making peace with the hollow left behind,

  My heart weeps for you,

  Finding you again grants my dream come true,

  It’s always been you.

  It’s you for me and me for you.

  Nothing is as sweet,

  Nothing is as pure,

  As a promise come true.

  Be my promise, baby.

  My promise of love.

  True love come to me.

  My promise come true.

  Love me, like I love you.

  Be my baby, be mine.

  My baby.

  Mine.

  “Please, be my promise,” he whispered the words into the stillness of the room. “My true love.” Leaning close, he kissed her shoulder and then gently pressed his lips there, holding still, breathing her in. “My baby.” Rolling so his back was to the mattress, he curled her into his side, bringing her beside him. “I love you, Lucia Foscan.” Turning his head, he kissed her forehead, fingers sweeping dark hair back from her face. “My Lucia.” Her nose crinkled as she made a humming sound, scrubbing her cheek against his chest and he grinned, whispering his deepest desire against her skin. “Lucia Jones.”

  ***

  “Benny,” her voice called to him as from a distance, and he drifted slowly up from sleep. “Benny, wake up.” He sighed and felt her hands gliding across his chest, up his neck, and then she cupped his cheeks. Exaggerating the movement, he pursed his lips in a silent request, making little smacking noises when she didn’t immediately kiss him. “What do you want? Huh?” With the softly whispered question, her lips were on his. “Want this?” Her hands framing his face, she controlled the kiss, and he let her, opening when she stroked across his lips with her tongue, dueling with her softly. Taking everything she offered and letting her end it gently, she pressed her mouth to his again and again, and again, humming deep in her throat as she did so.

  “’Mornin’,” he whispered, eyes still closed, wrapping his arms around and holding her close. Cupping the back of her head, he pressed her cheek to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, baby.” He knew she could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “My Luce is fun in the mornings.”

  “I could be more fun.” She suggested softly, and he brushed his lips across her temple. “So much more fun.” Her hand grazed his stomach on a downward path, and he sucked in a breath. Her murmur was soft, threaded through with desire. “Way more fun, Papi.”

  “Yeah? You want more fun?” She nodded, hair rustling as it cascaded across his chest. He gave her a squeeze before releasing her and tucking his hands behind his head. He tipped his chin towards his throat so he could watch. “Knock yourself out, baby.”

  “Yeah?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and he had to stifle a groan. Her eyes were dancing with excitement, and he loved seeing it. Loved so much about this woman. “Whatever I want?”

  “Go for it, baby.” He gave her honesty and watched her breath catch in her throat at his words. “I’m all yours, Lucia. Always yours. Anything you want, anything I can give you, yours.”

  She shifted, and he watched as she selectively set aside the weight of those words, reaching for and recapturing the lighter mood with which they’d begun. Curling her hand around his hip, she trailed her fingertips across the hollow and towards his belly, brushing back-and-forth as his cock stirred, uncoiling, thickening. Her arm skimmed across in a move that could have been accidental, but when it repeated, he knew she teased him. “What if I want this?” Lifting to one elbow, she pushed the sheet just below his waist, exposing the head of his cock, and with one fingertip, she traced along the rapidly defining ridge of the crown. “If I wanted this,”—a fingernail lightly flicked the already-weeping tip—“is it mine to have?”

  “Anything.” Voice hoarse, he groaned when the heat from her hand engulfed his shaft in a loose grip, gliding slowly down to the root, tenting the sheet over his hips. “My Luce is playful.” She wagged his cock to-and-fro, making little waves beneath the sheet and he smiled. “Aw, yeah, my Luce likes to play.” Still under the sheet, he didn’t have a visual of her hand as it moved but felt every change in grip, every nuance of difference as she shifted and her fingertips plucked at his sac. “Jesus, baby.”

  Benny tried to hold still, tried to let her play as long she wanted to, but when she moved down so her breath heated the head of his cock, he reached to gather her hair, holding it loosely clasped at the back of her head, to better see what she was about to do. “All yours,” he urged as she hesitated a moment, eyes angled up. Her tongue darted out to lick across his tip, the corners of her mouth curling up. “Baby.” He groaned when she took him in, her hand working the shaft in counterpoint to the movements of her head.

  He held her gaze for a long time, watching the heat build as she loved on him. Sucking and licking, gently nibbling, she opened her throat and took him as far down as she could, then backed off, lips glistening wetly as she sucked the tip, jacking him fast in her fist. With her hair held away from her face, he saw the moment she lost herself in what she was doing. Lids sinking closed, she was entirely focused on his reactions, moving to counter every jerk of his hips, her other hand fondling and cupping his balls, fingertips sliding between his cheeks and back up, caressing firmly.

  It was building, and he wouldn’t be able to hold it back much longer. The heat, friction, suction, and—God—just watching as she took him in. His cock in her mouth and her obvious enjoyment of the intimate act, everything pushed him faster towards the end. “Baby.” She didn’t acknowledge his call, so caught up was she in the moment. “Luce, baby.” Reaching down, he cupped her chin with one han
d, the other holding her hair out of the way. Urging her to look at him, he waited until he had her eyes before saying, “Come here, baby.”

  She shook her head, closing her eyes and moving faster, head bobbing, strands of dark silk escaping his grip, trailing down her cheek to his belly. “Luce. I want…”

  He lost what he was going to say when she took him entirely in, and he saw the side of her throat working to hold him there. “God.” Her hand was stroking his balls, rolling and cupping, stretching out the sac and then rolling them in her fingers again. “Mmhmm. Baby. No.”

  Jackknifing to a sitting position, he reached down and hauled her bodily up so she straddled his hips and he could feel the slickness between her thighs. Sucking him made her hot, and he knew it when she rocked against him with a muffled, sexy moan. Eyes at half-mast, there was a dark flush in her beautiful face, and he loved the look on her. Mine. Her lips were puffy, pouting, and he pulled her close, kissing her hard as he rolled them in the bed. In one movement, he was inside her and thrust hard, pushing to the root and staying planted. Nipping her bottom lip, he kissed her until they were both breathless and then started moving. Slowly. Deliberately. Feeling her all around him. “Hot. Tight, baby. Always so fucking tight.” With a groan, he rooted himself again, every muscle clenching as he ground deep, feeling her hips tip up in response.

  Sliding, pushing, rocking into her, she tightened around him. Threads of electricity pulsed up his spine. It felt like his skin was about to come off his body, as if every gasping breath unmoored him. Slipping a hand between them, he glided back, pressing his thumb against her clit. Rolling back and forth, circling as he swiveled his hips, thrusting hard with his cock while his fingers tweaked and teased, stroked and played. He kissed her deep, hard, and ate down each of her moans, feeling her legs lift, calves pressed to his sides. Her hips cradled him, holding him as close as she could, heels to his ass while he powered into her. Every sense heightened, he shivered at the sound of her musical whimpers echoing in the room, gloried in the feel of her hands on his back, watched as his fingers threaded through her hair. The taste of her lips under his, heat of her pussy wrapped around him, all of her holding him tight. Holding on.

  He pulled his face from her neck to find her watching him, eyes wide, just in time to see her orgasm take hold, sweeping her eyes shut as it passed through her. It started deep, tightening her around him in a way that was exquisite pain of the best sort, making it impossible to keep the rhythm because he wanted to be in there, stay in there, feel it as she did. With her, always with her. Forever. Her arms wrapped tighter, her legs folded around him, her pussy squeezed, and breathlessly she called his name. “Benny.”

  My name. “Mine.”

  Fuck. “My Luce.”

  Face to her neck, he thrust deep, pushed hard, rocking into her and found it right there. Exploding, taking his senses as the orgasm stole his breath, making him gasp for air even as he grunted, hips driving wildly, then deep and hard, deep and rocking.

  Mine. “Love you.”

  Always. “So much.”

  Holding on. “Lucia.”

  ***

  The brief phone conversation he initiated with Bear that morning hadn’t settled his nerves much. A quick connection to see how things went with the gig last night, confirm to Bear that Lucia was good and then set a time that afternoon for Benny to show at his house for a chat. Something Benny didn’t even understand why he needed to do, but he did. This wasn’t a want; it was a need, nearly as compelling as the addiction. That time was now. He had hoped like fuck he’d figure it out before he opened the car door, but he’d been sitting at the curb for nearly fifteen minutes and wasn’t any closer to sorting his shit.

  Unfolding out of the car, he looked up at the Crews’ new house. Big, spacious, it was a home for a blended family healing from something he couldn’t understand. There seemed to be a lot more going on than he could put his finger on. Half the time, even with Slate, it felt as if he were skating around the edges of something. Shaking off his uncertainty, he started up the walk, but his steps slowed as he again cataloged the residence in front of him. Multi-level, multi-bedroom, big backyard, three-car garage, the house had a huge kitchen the family lived in half the time. Immense, roomy, and really fucking expensive.

  Bear worked for the Rebels as a graphics designer and specialty mechanic, and Benny realized the man had to make a lot of money to buy this kind of place.

  Benny had been pouring nearly all his money from gigs back into the band, replacing old tour equipment, paying for promotional shirts and other things out of pocket, so they’d have cash from merch sales at shows when they eventually hit the road again. Bethany had helped by getting comps from sponsors where she could, and sourcing things a lot cheaper than he could on his own, but it was still going to take a fortune to get things rolling again. If it weren't for his brother finding him the apartment in a building the Rebels owned, and then gifting him with a year’s rent, he wouldn’t have been able to do as much for the band.

  Benny knew Lucia hadn’t been raised in a house like this, but it didn’t mean she didn’t deserve it. Every good thing that could come her way, she deserved, and more.

  I can’t give her this. Halfway up the walk, he stopped, gaze dropping to the sidewalk. Broad, smooth, framed on either side by a sweep of brilliant green grass. A good life. Memories painted over what he saw with the cracked and busted sidewalk leading to GeeMa’s house, the mud paths taking his resentful footsteps to the front door of so many of his mom’s cheap apartments. What if I can’t ever give her this?

  “You’re stuck.” Twisting, he looked to the side and scowled at Mercedes. “Worrying about things which don’t warrant the cerebral labor. She doesn’t care about these things, other than to be forever grateful that her brothers will know a different life. Trappings don’t matter to her. You do. Lay it aside, Bibi.”

  “How in the hell do you always know what I’m thinking?” He shook his head. “Weren’t you going to wait in the car?”

  “I was until my Bibi got stuck in his head. Now, I need to straighten him out before he fucks up bad.” Stepping out of his sight, she got behind him and shoved hard, hands in the middle of his back. “Move it, soldier.”

  He set his heels, not moving. “This is a mistake.” The words tore out of him, ripping pain thrashing through his chest. “Things can stay as they are.”

  “Nope, you made a decision.” She shoved him again, and he twisted to frown down at her. A pink and periwinkle fauxhawk rode her head like the comb of a rooster, and even after spending nearly every minute over the past few months with her, he still wondered how she did it because she was never primping or fixing things, never hit the bathroom with bottles of product and never left streaks of color one might expect on the walls of the shower. She shoved, and he took an involuntary step, then another when she didn’t relent.

  “Is that new? Did you get a new piercing?” What looked like a new set of dermals glinted at him from behind her ear, on the soft, tender area behind the lobe. “That’s dope.” It was, the jewel colors beautiful against her pale skin. “When did you have time to get to a studio?”

  “Walk, Bibi.” Since he was moving, this time the shove against his back was less forceful, but Mercedes still made her presence known. “You are not making a mistake. You love her. She loves you. You need to make music, and she helps you do that.” This was true. The music and lyrics were flowing like they never had before. He scribbled them onto scraps of paper everywhere, the leftovers of his creative efforts littered any area where he spent more than five minutes. Lyric ideas, thoughts for how to refine existing songs, changes in an arrangement for some of their long-standing tunes, he couldn’t be still more than a minute without something taking hold of his mind. “Beautiful music, beautiful woman. Beautiful babies.”

  Babies. He hadn’t worn a condom this morning. Or last night. A shitty move on his part, but she hadn’t said anything, and he knew she knew. The idea of losing
her had scored deep, scouring away any remaining doubts about what they were building together. The past two times he had made love to her, it had been her getting out of bed to clean up and him laying back, watching the show as she moved back-and-forth from the bathroom.

  Her moods fascinated him. She could go from naked and confidently sensual, to being a little shy, grabbing his tee on her way past. Him getting to watch the hem of his shirt settle over her ass was nearly as nice as the view of that ass walking. The show on the way back to bed just as good, her face, hair, everything about her was everything he wanted. Everything. So the choice to not use condoms wasn’t something they’d discussed, but when she didn’t stop him gliding in bare the first time, the die was set. The feel of her pussy, slick and velvety at the same time, with heat from her all around him was something he’d never experienced before. Another first for both of them, together. Addictive. Shit. “I can’t get a boner before I talk to Bear.”

  Musical laughter pealing forth, Mercedes patted his shoulder. “Then think of baseball. I understand it helps.”

  Coming to a halt in front of the door, he stared at the skull-shaped metal knocker set in the center of the surface. “I’m going to do this.”

  “Yes, you are, Bibi.”

  It was her hand that lifted, reaching past him to rap her knuckles hard against the door, eschewing the knocker. “Always a rebel.”

  She laughed again, saying, “Do not tell Mason. He might take offense.”

  “What would Mason take offense at?” Bear asked this as he opened the door and Benny stared at the man who had become his friend, remembering how he sounded yesterday in the room—that fucking room—with Benita. He had been certain Benny could fix whatever had sent Luce running, and then gifted him with the chance to make it right.

  Without thinking, eyes stinging, he blurted, “You’re one of the best men I know.”