“Is that what this is about?” She gaped at him a moment, then began to sob. “Oh, Antonio. This is my fault. She didn’t want me to tell. Tried to stop me in fact.”
“Ma—”
“She practically begged me, but I didn’t. You know how I get. I’m so sorry, mio caro, but I’m grieving too, even with all this time passed.” She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, then leaned forward, meeting his gaze intently. “You’re right, Tonio, your Angie, she is quite skilled, but in listening and being a supportive shoulder. If you want to be angry at someone, figlio, be angry with me. Not that precious girl. And if you let her walk out of your life, for something that is my fault, I’ll never forgive myself.”
He lay there for a several long moments, listening to the internal struggle that had been going on inside his head since he met Angie. As he lay in a bed similar to the one she had lain in not so long ago while he kept vigil, he imagined life without her. Back then, he didn’t know her as he did now. He hadn’t woken beside her with her soft warm body snuggled against his, hadn’t heard her laughter, watched her smile, or felt her gentle touch. And he hadn’t felt the power of her submission, tasted the sweetness of her kisses, or sank into the heat of her body. To give that up out over an irrational fear that history could possibly repeat itself was crazy, and as she had accused him of being, cowardly.
He pushed back the covers and sat up at the side of the bed.
“What are you doing? Lie back down.”
“I’m going to stop her, Ma.”
“You just had a bullet dug out of your shoulder, Antonio.” His mother’s usually mellow voice was becoming shrill with alarm.
“I’m fine. But if I let her walk out of my life, I’ll be the one who never forgives myself.”
“You can’t possibly drive. You’re on morphine.” As she pointed this out, he ripped the IV out of his arm. She gasped. “Santa Maria, Madre de Dio.”
“Stop praying and drive me, Ma. Or call me a cab, because I’m going to get her back.”
Chapter Thirty
At the loud knock on her door, Angie glanced up at the clock. The cab was twenty minutes early. Pressing down on her old hard shell suitcase that her mother had given her in college, she latched it and dragged it along to the living room dreading the overage charge she’d be facing. Setting it next to the other one and her rolling carryon bag by the door, she took another look around. Megan would see that the rest of her things were sent on when she settled.
She blinked back tears, sparing another glance around the front room of the place she’d called home for the past five years, as she pulled open the door.
“I’ll need help with my bags.”
“I don’t think so,” a gruff voice replied.
Her head came up sharply and she peered in shock at the man on the other side of her screen. Behind him, she saw Sophia’s silver Mercedes pull away from the curb.
“T? What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you still be in bed, in the hospital?”
He was through the door, his big frame crowding her so that her choice was either step back and let him in or get crushed. After slamming the security door shut with a booted heel, he advanced on her.
“Were you leaving without saying goodbye?”
“I—”
“That’s a cowardly thing to do, don’t you think?” he challenged softly.
As he threw her own accusation back at her, she stiffened. Her mouth snapped shut, although only for a moment. Then she got ticked. “I’m not running away. That’s your style. I’m transferring to a better job.”
“Bullshit.” Another of her challenges was flung back in her face, as he took a step closer, into her space. She backed up as much.
“Although I’ve done a perfect impression of one these past few months, I’m not an idiot, T.” As she replied, she tried to stay calm. Backing up again, she kept pace with each forward move he made as he essentially stalked her across her living room. “Tell me something repeatedly and it eventually gets through.”
“What about love, Angie? Is this how you show it?”
She jerked. Once more, the exact words she’d hurled at him, hurt as they were returned.
“You said you loved me, little bit. Way back when you were bleeding out beneath my hands on the courthouse steps.”
She gasped, stumbling as she skirted around the sofa table while retreating. “That was real? I thought I dreamed it.”
“Yeah, it was real.” Taking another step, he came up against her. “As real as when you whispered it in my ear a few hours ago.” Her eyes shot to his. Having reached the back of the couch, she had no retreat left. He pushed his advantage. “So I’ll ask again, is this how you act when you love someone? You give up? With only three measly attempts? That’s weak Hixson.”
Ready to put significant distance between them, she attempted to move around the couch, one they’d made love on, often, but he caught her arm, his fingers warm and strong against her bare skin. Despite all that had gone on between them, her body quickened, burning at his touch.
“Every time I tried to show it you pushed me away!”
Enough was enough. She wrenched her arm free and moved around the end of her kickass sofa. With it between them, she wheeled back to face him. Fight or flight had kicked in when she saw him on the other side of her door. Flight was clearly ineffective, now it was time to dig in and fight.
“I can’t take it, T. From one minute to the next I don’t know what you’ll do. First you want me, the next minute you don’t. You take off for three months without so much as a word and when you come back you get pissy that I’m with someone else. You’re like a kid who gets the toy they’ve been begging for at Christmas, but after you play with it for a few minutes you’re done with it.” She leaned in, poking a finger in his chest every so often to emphasize her words. “Your moods change so fast I’m getting freakin’ whiplash. So, if protecting myself against that kind of pain makes me a coward, so be it.”
“Mom came by the hospital.”
Startled by this random statement, she stilled. “I know. I saw her.”
“We talked. She told me that it was her, not you who insisted on rehashing the past. I’m sorry, baby.”
Seeing the earnest regret in his face her resolved softened. Then shook her head. “Thank you for that, but it’s too late. I told you a long time ago, T. I don’t want to merely play, I want the whole enchilada. And I want a man that wants that too. Marriage, kids, a house, a life together. I can’t have that with you, no matter how badly I want it.”
“I want it too.”
She felt hope blossom in her chest, but it died out as quickly having been burned too many times before. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I don’t want to lose you, Angie.”
Lowering her gaze, she hesitated as a tumble of conflicted emotions whirled through her head. “What’s to stop you from changing your mind again when things get too close for comfort?” Not waiting for an answer, she tried to put more distance between them before she broke down into a blubbering weak willed mess at his feet. She hadn’t taken two steps when he pulled her back hard. She slammed against his chest.
“Your shoulder!”
“Its fine, thanks to you, Angie. You saved my life. Cap said the shooter had me dead to rights. Your shot made his non-fatal.”
Frozen for an instant, she was helpless to cease the wave of hurt and anger that swept through her. Looking up at him, she gestured between them. “So is that what this is about? Gratitude? I save you and all of a sudden you want me out of some misplaced need to repay a debt. No thanks. Reparations aren’t necessary. I’m very happy you’re alive, T. That’s enough for me. You can mark this one paid in full.” She twisted free and somehow made it past him, walking toward the front door as the cab outside honked its horn. “I’ve got to go. I’ll miss my flight.”
“Dammit.” He caught her by the waistband of her jeans and hauled her back. “That’s
not it, not at all.”
Staring up into his troubled eyes, his image blurred as tears beaded on her lashes. She wiped them away impatiently. “Then what is this, T? What are you doing other than confusing the hell out of me?”
He drew her against him, bending his head close and murmuring with raw emotion. “I’m a complete shit, Angie. I know that. But I’ve never felt like this with any woman. Not even—”
“Emily?”
“Yeah.” His dark, solemn eyes sought hers. “She broke me. Dead in the grave with the boy I thought was my son, her betrayal cut deep.”
“I know and I can’t imagine how painful that was, but that doesn’t discount the fact that I’m not her, T. You’ve painted women with her brush for so long, I don’t think you can tell the difference.”
“I know the difference. I’ve felt the difference, Angie. I see that now.”
“What’s to prevent you from dumping me a fourth time?”
“Trust. And my vow to never do that to you, or to us, again.”
“I don’t know. I’d be crazy to give you the chance to crush me again.” She dropped her eyes, unable to hold his unwavering gaze. That wouldn’t do for him. His hands came up on either side of her head, angling it back so she had no choice except to look at him.
“I know I really fucked this up. I swear, I want what you want. I did all those years ago. I was never a wandering man, but I was lost back then and the Army gave me an out when things were simply too painful to stay. Home is Texas, with family, friends, the farm, my horses, and you, Angie. You feel like home to me and made me realize how much I was missing by shutting my heart away. I’m ready to fight to have that again, with you.”
She sucked in air, hope bourgeoning within her.
He picked up her hand and laid it palm down against his chest. Holding it flat over his heart, his voice crackled with urgency. “Say you’ll stay and give me another chance, baby. I promise I won’t screw it up a fourth time.”
Her resolve was a fragile shell around her and his words made it crumble. She choked out, “I must be crazy.”
“That’s a yes?”
Unable to speak further, she nodded. A half sob, half laugh escaping when he dropped his head on her shoulder and murmured a heartfelt, “Thank God.”
His head came up and his lips found hers in a gentle but demanding kiss. Against her lips, he murmured, “I want it all with you, Angie, so put thoughts about L.A. from your head.”
“All as in…” she pushed needing to be sure.
“We’ll get married, of course. That seems to be the trend at Rossi anyway.”
“And the club?”
“Darlin’.” He drawled as if that was a given, more non-negotiable than anything else.
She couldn’t control the soft laugh that escaped. “Does that mean you wouldn’t mind the white picket fence, a yellow lab named Daisy to run around behind that fence, and a family with 2.5 kids?”
“There’s a problem with that plan.”
“You don’t want kids,” she filled in for him, her face falling with disappointment, but she knew she would give up that dream to spend her life with T. She loved him that much.
“I want two.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how we get a .5, but I want at least one little girl with long brown hair streaked with honey and beautiful multi-colored eyes like her mama. The problem is, I’m not having a lab and for damn sure not naming a dog Daisy. We’ll have a German shepherd or a Rottie named Bruno.” Her laugh was broken with a sob. His hand came up to her face. “As to the rest, I’m sorry, Angie, but I can’t go through that again.”
She merely stared up at him tongue-tied, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. Finally, she stammered, “But you just said—”
“No, little bit, I don’t mean what you’re thinking. I meant I can’t go through that night again, coming home and finding my home violated, my family murdered. So the white picket fence is also out. A ten foot fence and a security gate, nothing less. And, we’ll have Jonas install the best damn home security system that money can buy.”
She blew out a relieved breath as the tears that had been threatening began to fall.
“I love you, darlin’, and I’m not taking any chances on losing you, ever again.”
“Oh, T,” she choked, tears of happiness near blinding her. “I love you, too.”
“Get up here,” he growled as he lifted her with his uninjured arm. As her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, he began to walk toward her bedroom.
“T, you’re just out of surgery. Put me down.”
With his face buried in her neck, he pulled her ass in closer, grinding his fly and the hard ridge of flesh beneath it into the crotch of her jeans.
“Does it feel like I’m injured?”
A knock sounded at the door. “Hey! Did anyone call for a cab?” a voice called.
“Go away. She’s not going to fucking Los Angeles.”
“T!” she exclaimed with a giggle. “I’m sorry,” Angie called over his shoulder. “There’s been a change in plans.”
She could hear him grumbling as he stomped away. “I should call and cancel my flight. The last minute ticket was $600.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He’d made it to her room and dropped her down on the bed. “The only fuck I care about is the one I’m about to give to you.”
The intensity and passion with which he said those words roused the same desire in her. In a frenzy of flying fingers, they sacrificed a few popped buttons and Angie’s lace panties as they hastily shed their clothes, only slowing long enough to carefully pull T’s shirt over his bandaged shoulder. He grimaced as he tossed it aside and turned back to her.
At that point, Angie paused, concern palpable in her voice. “You’re shoulders bothering you. If you overdo, you’ll tear your wound open. Roll onto your back. I’m getting on top.”
Her order was met by an imperiously arched brow. “Is that so? Are you ordering me about in the bedroom, little bit?”
“Uh, well, yes,” she began hesitantly, the next instant meeting his eyes with firm resolve. “In this instance, I am.”
He crawled onto the bed, moving toward her with a gleam in his eye. She began to backpedal, but he surprised her by falling onto his back with a grin.
“Climb on board, baby. I’ll happily let you ride me today.”
“Really? That easily?”
“I know my limits, and one arm pushups I can do, but I’ve got no staying power right now. So I’ll give you the position, although I still call the shots. You’ll ride me while I finger your clit and suck on your nipples, when you’re ready to come, you’re gonna crawl up and sit on my face. With your delicious pussy spread wide for my mouth, I’m gonna eat you until you come screaming my name. Maybe once will satisfy me, though probably not. So be prepared to be eaten for a good long time, coming repeatedly. After that, I’ll want your mouth around my cock, sucking me off until I pour a few weeks’ worth of sexual frustration down your throat. You’ll lap up every drop and thank me for it. I won’t be done quite yet and will want you to ride me again until we both find it again, simultaneously.”
She stared at him, her lips parted, air moving in and out fast. “I’m not in charge at all, am I?” she questioned shakily.
He laughed. “Shit no, but I think it’s cute that you tried.” With his good arm, he dragged her closer. “Mount up. It’s been too long since I’ve had my cock inside you.”
As she straddled his hips, she aligned the head of his cock with her drenched opening and slid down, taking all of him as they both groaned with pleasure. T’s thumb found her clit again as he pulled her down, enough so that her breasts dangled above his mouth. She clutched the headboard with white knuckled fingers as she rode him hard and fast. Her first orgasm of the day coming as she rode his tongue and with a cry so loud, she knew they heard it clear down on the River Walk, several miles away.
He then did all of the things he
swore he would and took well over an hour doing it. After an incredible simultaneous climax, with his harsh masculine groans melding with her resonant cries of pleasure, they took a brief break. T was fresh out of the hospital, keep in mind. With stomachs growling, they went foraging in the kitchen for what little Angie had left in her cupboards. It wasn’t much. They finished up the orange juice she had in the fridge and shared a chocolate pudding cup, puckering and grimacing at the sweet and sour taste combination in their mouths.
T then dragged her back to bed, promising to call in a pizza, later. It wasn’t until early evening when ‘later’ came. By that time Angie was too exhausted to think about food. When the delivery man arrived, she barely stirred as T got up, slipped on his jeans and answered the door.
He roused her enough to eat a slice with him while they cuddled in bed. “Since you’re already packed,” he announced as he started his fourth slice, “we’ll load up my truck with your stuff and move you into my house tomorrow.”
Her head tilted back, for a moment studying him from where her cheek rested on his chest. “It’s not too soon?”
“Too soon? We’ve been playing cat and mouse for months. I’m not dicking around this time, Angie. You’ll have a ring on your finger by tomorrow and my collar around your throat the next time we go to the club.”
“A collar?” Her fingers moved to her throat, stroking lightly as she imagined how that would feel.
“Absolutely. It will tell everyone, especially Durand and Ogilvie, who you belong to.”
“You have no reason to be worried, T. Arturo was nice, but—and I’m not proud of this—I was using him.”
“I know you were, as did he in the end.”
“And Dan is a big brother to me, nothing more.”
“Also something I know.” He picked up her hand that was lying flat on his chest near her cheek and began to gently nibble her fingers. “It’s not you I’m worried about. I’m making sure they know you are mine.”
Six months ago, that statement would have made her see red. Now, it made her feel wanted, cherished and she didn’t mind in the least. A barrage of questions swirled in her head, but one stood out the most as her hand rose to her throat.
What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) Page 32