by H. J. Bellus
Sure, I appreciated his good looks, dimples, and Hulk body before he left, but now it’s a temple I want to devour. When his large palm grabbed me by the hip, I wanted to leap into his arms and take his mouth in mine. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed my new friend over the last five days until he graced my sight. All thoughts of needing to be in my room wallowing in misery vanished.
He makes me want to live and try again. I have no damn idea how to explain it. Cruz Felix makes something inside of me courageous and wild. I vow to not drink tonight because I want to remember him undressing me this time. Goosebumps race over my body when I imagine how his fingers will feel on my skin.
“Layla.” My dad’s voice floats around the house.
I grab my oversized purse and float to the living room. Yes, I float on a natural high with the promise of Cruz. Even if all I get is to enjoy our banter, his delicious dimples, and his sweet woodsy scent that’s enough to make me higher than a damn kite.
“Yo, Old Man.” I round the corner into the living room.
My dad looks worn, exhausted, and wiped from what life has been putting him through. He crashes down on the couch with his legs stretched out.
“I ain’t no one’s old man,” he growls.
I know he’s playing.
“I’m going out with Cruz tonight.” I’m a bit fearful of his reply. I’ve never entertained the thought of being with a fighter.
He nods. “I know.”
My shoulders relax a bit. I wasn’t quite sure how he’d react. I know he’s a smart man and sorta-kinda in a roundabout way gave me his blessing.
“You’re not going to like this, but we need to talk about it.”
“What?”
The tension creeps right back in.
“Sit.” He nods.
I don’t bicker with him like I typically would and sit down in Abuela’s favorite worn leather recliner.
“I ran into your mom this afternoon.”
I slap my mouth in horror before fighting through the anger. “She’s not my mother. My mother is dead.”
He nods in acknowledgment. “I know, sweetie. Something is brewing, and it’s bad. Really bad. She’s running with those fuckers, and I know there’s something in it for her.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“No clue, and that’s what is bothering me. There’s a shit ton of tension between the two gyms. Titan’s Tribe is thirsty to put me out and show their power, but with Cruz, we have a fucking strong army. They fear him. Fear makes people do stupid and dangerous shit.”
I nod while listening.
“Keep your head on straight and watch your surroundings. I had a meeting with all the men as well. I just want to be proactive.” He leans forward. “And keep your Latina temper in check.”
Chills of fear creep over my skin. “Okay, Papi.”
“I don’t like the way they approached you in the bar. Having Cruz around you will be good.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Remember your junk food freak out? This is my overly protective father freak out.” He raises his hands over his head. “I make it look good.”
“Asshole.” I smile.
“Just do what I say. I can’t handle any more shit.”
“You got it, Daddio.” I stand up, and he follows suit.
I reach up on my tiptoes and hug him for a long time. Before I let go of him, I also break the news to him. He won’t be happy at all.
“I’m not going back to work.”
He steps back, and my prediction was spot on. “Bullshit.”
“Dad, no more freak outs from either of us. I need to be here to heal, and let’s face it, you need me.”
He slams his hands down on his hips, not impressed with me. “Fine.”
“In time when I’m ready I’ll go back to work here. You’re all I have left.”
He finally nods but doesn’t respond. Papi knows when to give up with me, knowing I won’t back down on this.
“Dad, I know you’ve worked your ass off to put me through college and build up your gym. I’m not throwing any of it away. I love being a nurse, but I need a little break.”
“I understand. How’s the arm?” He points to the neon pink cast.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes, still hating the glaring pink reminder.
A loud knock sounds on the door. “Oh shit, Cruz.”
I bounce over to the door and pull it open to the giant peering back at me. He’s showered and dressed; the vision would make any woman’s knees go weak. His jeans are low slung on his wide hips while a tight Henley hugs his chest and the sexy scent wafting from him is the damn cherry on top. All thoughts of the ugly conversation Papi and I had vanished into thin air.
“Thought you ditched me,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“No, I almost got grounded by that one.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder.
“Boss.” Cruz nods.
Dad offers the gesture back then waves before going into his room.
“Is he okay?” Cruz asks.
“He will be after the shit storm settles down a bit.” I turn from Cruz and holler to my dad. “I’m going. Te quiero papá.”
“También te amo. Mantenerse a salvo.”
I smile, loving hearing the familiar way we say “I love you” and how Papi always tells me to be safe. I walk outside and stand by Cruz while shutting the door and making sure it’s locked from the outside. He grabs my hand, leading me down the stairs until we’re on the sidewalk.
“That was sexy as fuck,” Cruz finally says, cutting the silence.
I look up at him with a smirk. “Me talking to my dad? How many hits to the head did you take today?”
He roars in laughter. “Layla, you’re something else.”
“You’re the one that said it was sexy.” With my free hand, I make air quotes. “As fuck.”
“You talking Spanish was sexy, smartass.”
I bite down on my bottom lip and smile. “How come you never talk Spanish?”
He shrugs. “Only talked it to my dad.”
“I bet it was sexy.” I playfully slap his abs.
“Weirdo.”
“Takes one to know one.” I smirk back.
“I like you, Layla.”
“You better, seeing you’re the only friend I have right now.” We jog across the street. “Where are we going?”
“Dinner?”
“Thought we were going to your place.”
“Didn’t want to waste time cooking.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Doughnuts?”
“I thought we’d have doughnuts for dessert. I have plans.” He winks over at me, lighting those dimples up.
“Really?” I ask.
Cruz’s phone goes off in his pocket. He reaches in and grabs it without missing a step while he leads us to our destination. He grunts and growls into the phone with a few “yeahs” peppered in before hanging up.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
I can tell by his tense posture and mood floating off him that it’s not okay.
“No.”
It’s a one-word reply. I grab his hand, lacing my fingers through his. It’s my turn to be there for him.
“Need to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
Well, that went well.
“Doughnuts now, then?” I ask him.
Cruz stops dead in his tracks and faces me. He scrubs his face with his free hand before speaking.
“I’m sorry. Some shit I’m dealing with is unbelievable.” He pauses for a beat. “Doughnuts wouldn’t even begin to touch it.”
“I’m here for you, Cruz.” I give his hand an extra squeeze in mine.
“Thank you. That’s all I need.”
He’s always been a gentle giant. But with his jaw ticking in anger I’m beginning to see another side of him. The threat of his temper bursting brews in his whiskey-colored eyes. I know he’d never hurt me, but damn he’s scary at this moment. I do my best to brus
h the feeling away.
We turn and begin walking in silence again. Thoughts of what he’s dealing with spin around in my head. It sucks that the first thing registering is another woman. Did he leave someone behind in Texas? So what if he did? I mean, we are only friends. Friends that undress each other, hold hands, and eat doughnuts together…friends, right?
“Where did you go?” Cruz asks, opening a door to a small steakhouse.
I peer up to him with a confusing look.
“You vanished there on me for a minute.”
Once Cruz steps into the steakhouse, the hostess is all over him. Her smile is wide and boobs extra bouncy and on display, not giving me time to answer his question.
“How many tonight, Cruz?” she coos.
On a first name basis with him. Fucking awesome.
“Two, please.”
I swear I see her knees go weak when he talks to her. She’s practically dry humping the air to get closer to him. Her hips sway in a sexy gesture as she leads us back to a corner booth. It’s dimly lit with a romantic feeling. Again, my mind becomes my worst enemy. He must frequent this place a ton since he’s on a first name basis—so exactly how many women has he brought here?
The hostess drops the menus on the table and pets Cruz’s shoulder before walking off. I clench my fists, struggling to hold in my rage.
“I can’t do this,” I blurt out as Cruz begins to take a seat.
He stands straight up with the sound of my words.
“Is there another woman?”
I go for the kill, asking directly with no remorse. No skirting around the issue; just blunt as a dull butter knife going in for the direct kill.
He scrubs his face in frustration. “No, Layla.”
“Don’t lie to me, Cruz.”
He drops his hands down to his sides and thinks for a moment before speaking again. His jaw ticks with frustration and I steady myself for his growl.
“There hasn’t been anyone else in my life since my father until you, and that’s the truth. I’m not going to fucking beg here, Layla. God knows I have enough on my plate with training and shit. It’s your decision.”
I’d be a liar if I said his words didn’t slice me open in pain. They were raw, mean, and the truth. I know he’s not lying to me, but he’s also not willing to give me more. I nod, accepting his answer. I take a seat, and he follows. I clear my throat before speaking my piece.
“Thank you.” It comes out as a whisper as I run my finger along the crease of the pristine, white cloth napkin. “The phone call, your attitude, and the hostess made me a bit crazy. I’m not typically like this, but with everything happening lately, I went psycho for a moment.”
“Appreciate your honesty, Layla. No head games for either of us, yeah?” He leans forward with his elbows on the table, biceps flexing underneath his shirt.
“Agreed.”
“I’m still dealing with shit from back home with my dad’s passing. I don’t talk about it and don’t want to. It’s like peeling a scab off a nasty gaping wound that never healed in the first place.” He grips the back of his neck. “Don’t push me.”
I nod, not offering a word. The pain is too genuine. He’s hurting me but being honest. I asked for it. I’ve never seen this cold side of him. His past is just that—his past.
“And for the hostess thing, I’ve been here twice, and she recognized me immediately.”
“Recognized?” I ask.
“World Champion,” he growls.
I look over my shoulder in a smartass gesture in a desperate need to lighten the mood. I know exactly what he is referring to. I feel the toe of his boot nudge me under the table.
“Okay, okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to get used to rolling with Mr. Famous Pants.” I smile, doing my best to mask the fact I’m hurting inside because he won’t open up to me.
He reaches over, running his large palm up and down my cast. Something is still brewing within him, but he made it very clear he didn’t want me prodding into his personal life. I’m a bit more reassured about another woman, but the thought still lingers.
As the hostess preened over Cruz, our waitress does the same thing. It makes it difficult to swallow the meal bit by bit, but I do. When we stand to leave, the blonde waitress races over again with a piece of paper in her hand.
“Um.” She fumbles for a bit. “Would you mind signing this for my little brother? I’m so sorry to ask, but he’s one of your biggest fans.”
Cruz looks over at me then glances back to the waitress with his smile on full blast and those damn dimples framing it perfectly.
“No problem.”
She pushes her thick blonde bangs out of her face. “Thank you. I’m raising him on my own, and he thinks he’s going to be a fighter one day.”
Cruz glances at her name badge that happens to be right on her left tit, and it takes everything inside me to not stomp on his foot since his gaze is going way too close to her cleavage. “Saylor, here you go.”
He hands her back the napkin he scrawled a message on and signed his name. His signature is sexy as fuck, and I feel the ugly jealousy monster rear up inside me. I want his signature.
“Bring him by the gym. I train at Diablo’s Throne.”
She nods enthusiastically, but before walking away, she slips him another napkin. This one has her name followed by her phone number. I’m pissed. Every single shade of red blurs my vision. I’m so fucking livid that I don’t even wait for Cruz to hold the door open for me. I blow out the glass doors and welcome the night’s cool breeze blowing on my face. I turn left, taking long steps back toward my home. I am done with tonight. It’s irrational; I know this. The thing about anger—it never listens to common sense.
I clench my fists at my sides with rage boiling to a bursting point. I’m an idiot. But my hatred and anger win out in the end. The bottoms of my shoes slap the sidewalk as I walk faster down it.
“Layla.”
I don’t turn when Cruz booms out my name. Anyone in their right mind would listen to him. His footsteps echo behind me, and I know it will take him no time to catch up with me. I shouldn’t be pissed…I shouldn’t be pissed…I repeat it over and over in my head, but I am pissed off.
“God dammit, Layla,” he roars when he grabs the top of my arm and whirls me around to him. “What in the hell is going on?”
I try to pull my arm away from him, but the man is complete power. He doesn’t hurt me but doesn’t give in either. He stares me down waiting for an answer. There’s a glower in his expression, his jaw tight with tension and his eyes on fire. He could snap me in half in the blink of an eye. It’s not his sheer power that scares me, but his secrets.
“I’m pissed off.”
“I see that,” he whispers through a clenched jaw.
“Don’t be a dick.”
“Quit being a bitch and tell me what in the hell is wrong with you.” He steps in closer, never breaking eye contact.
“You gave her your autograph and invited her to the damn gym. You probably have her number tucked away in your pocket for later. Is that a good enough reason?” I scream.
“I sent an autograph for her brother and invited him to the gym. I’d do anything to inspire little kids. It’s what my dad did for me.”
“Well aren’t you a fucking superhero.”
“So you’re pissed that I want to help a kid?” He shoots a questioning eyebrow up.
I nudge him in the chest with my free hand trying to push him away, but the brick wall doesn’t budge.
“No. Yes. I’m pissed at you for shutting me out then all these women and that fucking number in your pocket.”
“Layla, you are an idiot.” Each word clear and precise.
“Fuck you, Cruz.”
“No, you listen to me.” He pushes my back up against a brick wall, trapping me between his arms and his hard body. His palms slap on the wall on either side of my face. “I don’t have her number.”
I roll my eyes, not willing to give
up on the fight.
“Stick your hands in my pockets.”
I don’t respond with words or actions this time. Silence floats between us. Cruz is the first to move, grabbing each of my wrists and guiding them into his back pockets then front ones.
His tongue darts out, swiping across his bottom lip. Then he pushes my hand deeper into his pocket.
“Feel that hard cock? Do ya, Layla? It’s been that fucking hard since meeting you. I dream about your legs spread wide open, my tongue tasting you, and how that pretty face of yours would look coming undone beneath me.” He pushes his hips into me, biting down on his bottom lip. “Any more fucking questions?”
“Cruz…”
My words are cut off when his lips land on mine. His hand falls from my arm and tangles into my hair, pulling me into him. His other hand goes to my ass, pulling me even closer until his erection pushes up against my center and further into my hand. He thrusts into me while still kissing me. His tongue devours my mouth, and before he pulls away, he bites down on my bottom lip with a growl.
He raises his head and drops his other hand to my ass, cupping it and tugging me to him. My tongue darts out, licking the tangy blood dribbling on my lip.
“What were you going to say?” He crooks up an eyebrow.
I whisper through my bruised and loved lips. “I was going to say I didn’t have any more questions.”
It’s the most honest reply I’ve given in a long time. I don’t need to know his past to be with him in the present. I need his body on mine and his heart in my life.
“You’re a jealous one. That fucking turns me on.” His grip tightens on my ass. “Run from me, Layla. I’ll chase you down and ravage your body until you can’t fucking walk straight.”
“Cruz.” I bite down on my bottom lip and close my eyes. “I…uh…I don’t know why I acted like that.”
He squeezes my ass again. “I think it’s time to go to my apartment. I’ll sign my fucking name on your sweet ass. No need to be jealous of autographs, baby.”
This time it’s me voluntarily pushing my hips into his with my hands still twisted deep in his pockets. The friction causes me to moan and repeat the action.
“I’m no good at relationships and never have sex with someone this fast. I’ve had some fuck buddies. Cruz Felix, if this happens tonight, then you’re mine. Do you hear me?”