by Shayla Black
Dizziness and nausea assailed her. Brea reached out to brace herself.
Pierce was there to support her.
“Oh, my gosh. How did this happen?” And what am I going to do?
“Apparently, Tower Trent got jealous that Shealyn, his supposed girlfriend, was stepping out on him with her bodyguard and blabbed Cutter’s name.”
So the star had destroyed her privacy without a second thought? “But how did the press find out I’m pregnant? The only people in the world who know are you, Cutter, my doctor.” She closed her eyes. “And Rayleigh.”
“Who?”
“The woman who owns the salon. Last Friday, she guessed. I didn’t think fast enough on my feet. And I really needed a friend… I should have known better. She loves to gossip.” But Brea had never seen the woman pass on secrets, just chew on general knowledge. And she’d seemed so sincere. It was possible that if Rayleigh had guessed, someone else in the salon had, too. That wasn’t what was really important now. “Oh, no… If everyone on Twitter knows I’m pregnant, it won’t be long before Daddy does, too.”
“Yeah. This timing couldn’t fucking be worse. I’m sorry.” He took her hands and drew her closer, holding her against his body. “I leave for Mexico tonight.”
Shock ripped the air from her lunch. Dread gonged in her stomach. “Already?”
“Yeah. I wish like hell I’d had time to meet your dad first. Explain us. But now…there’s no way. Reporters and gossips will start flocking here soon. I can’t be seen anywhere near you. It could be weeks before the media swarm dies down. Besides, this shit with Montilla can’t wait.”
“I know you’re right, but…” Pierce leaving terrified her.
Brea had thought they would have more days and nights together…in case she needed to store up memories for a future without him. Some foolish part of her had even hoped that Emilo Montilla would forget about all this and move on. But unless someone put that man in the ground, Pierce never would. Every moment he stayed here with her in Louisiana was another moment the brutal drug lord might be planning his revenge, so it was another moment Pierce would sneak through her window in the middle of the night instead of living openly as her man and the father of their baby.
Until Montilla was gone, they had no future.
Brea wrapped her arms around Pierce. “I’m so afraid.”
“You’re going to be fine, pretty girl. Your daddy loves you. Yeah, he might be disappointed. He might lecture you or be angry with you. He might wish you’d made different choices. But he’ll stand by you.”
He thought Daddy’s anger was her first concern? “I know that.”
Funny, when she’d realized she was pregnant, she’d done so much hand-wringing about disappointing her father. She still worried about triggering another heart incident, and she’d need to manage that. But her fears about being Sunset’s “hussy” or losing all her clients? In the face of everything else, they hardly mattered now. If the people in this town didn’t like her or her life choices, they could go hang.
“I’m worried about you. Montilla is dangerous. He almost—”
“I’m going to do everything possible to come back in one piece. This time, I have the element of surprise, and I’m not playing by anyone’s rules except my own.” He cupped her face. “War is my business. Every time I’m on the job, I know it might be my last day. So I’m careful. I take precautions. But if I don’t come back, I’m still going to take care of you. You’ll have everything you need.”
Brea’s insides froze in terror. “Except you.”
Pierce shrugged those big shoulders of his.
He was trying to be responsible, and Brea did her best to appreciate that. But when she thought about living the rest of her life and raising their child without him, she couldn’t.
“Don’t go.” She latched on to him even tighter. “Let’s leave here. Go someplace where he can’t find us and—”
“I’m not looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. I’ve never run away from a fight, and I won’t put you or the baby at risk. I’ve got to do this. If it ends well, we’ll start our lives together. Focus on that while I’m gone, pretty girl.”
Brea tried not to lose her composure, but everything was happening so fast. And once he left here, she might never see him again. “How long will it take?”
“To kill Montilla? Might be a few days. Might be a few months. I need to find him, figure out a way to get close enough to observe him, learn his patterns, discern when and where he’s vulnerable…and it’s going to be a bitch. He likes to hunker down in compounds with lots of armed guards. He’s not light on the surveillance. Since he threatened me and mine, he knows I’m coming. I doubt he’ll make the mistake of spending much time alone.”
“Can’t you take someone with you to watch your back? Josiah or Zyron or…Cutter is due home in a few hours. He’d go—”
“No.”
The finality in his answer stabbed her with foreboding.
His heartbeat, loud and steady, filled her ears as tears spilled down her cheeks. Why couldn’t this bittersweet moment last forever? “You’re one man against a cartel. Don’t do this.”
“It’s what I’m trained to do. Please don’t worry.”
That was like asking her not to blink or to breathe. Or to love him. “I’ll try, but—”
“You’re strong. You can do it, pretty girl.” He cradled her face and wiped her tears away. “Do you want to spend the rest of our time together crying or feeling good?”
It would be so easy to lose herself in her fears, but if he was going into battle for them, for their future, he needed her comfort. He needed to know without a doubt that she loved him. He needed to be sure he had something to live for.
And she needed to press his body against hers—tattoo that feeling onto her heart—and memorize him.
“Love me,” Brea murmured. “I want to love you.”
“Good answer.” He reached around to drag her nightgown up her backside.
Then with a seductive slide of his palm over her hip, he whisked the cotton up her body and flung it across the room. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head as he bent to help her out of her modest white panties. The instant she stood naked in front of him, he removed the gun from the holster at his waistband with one hand and reached between her legs with the other. When he set the weapon on her nightstand with a soft thump, she gave a startled jump.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Pierce cupped her possessively and skimmed his lips up to her ear. “Tell me. As much as I want to lift you onto the bed and fuck you, something made you tense. If you’re worried about your dad, I’ll make sure he won’t hear us.”
Brea didn’t know how he’d manage that since she was prone to screaming whenever Pierce touched her, but that wasn’t what worried her. “I was just thinking there’s never been a gun in my house.”
“I don’t go anywhere without one, especially now.”
He was being practical, and she had to stop being squeamish. The world wasn’t full of good people, rainbows, sunshine, and glitter. Monsters like Montilla existed. She’d seen what he was capable of. The worst possible thing would be for him to find Pierce unarmed. If that happened, history would repeat itself, but worse. Pierce wouldn’t survive Montilla’s captivity a second time.
“I’m glad. I want you to be safe. And I should get used to the idea of defending myself in case I have to.”
He nodded before he brushed his lips over hers. “It would make me feel so much fucking better if you would.”
She nodded. “I’ve also never had sex in this house.”
“Oh, I know. And I’m going to fix that but good.”
Despite everything, anticipation wound a hot trail through her. “Want to know something? I’ve never even had an orgasm here.”
Pierce raised a dark brow. “You don’t masturbate?”
“Of course not.”
“C’mon. You never rubbed one out in the morning?
Your fingers haven’t done any walking late at night? You must own something that requires batteries…”
“No. I always thought self-pleasure was a sin.” And the few forbidden times she’d put her hand down there experimentally, she’d been so self-conscious she’d stopped long before climax.
He slanted her a downright dubious stare. “Who convinced you of that?”
“It’s the way I was raised. Corinthians tells us: ‘Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own?’”
Pierce scoffed. “Since it’s attached to my body, it’s mine. Think of masturbation as self-maintenance.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Isn’t everyone happier after an orgasm? Granted, giving yourself one isn’t as much fun, but in a pinch…” He shrugged. “And I’d feel a lot better if I knew you were making yourself feel good while I’m gone.”
She tsked at him. “You’re kidding. You want me to…”
“Get yourself off?” He bulldozed forward, backing her onto the bed, then followed her down. He draped half of his enormous body on top of her, his big palm still unerringly covering her sex. “Hell yeah.”
Her breath caught. “Why?”
“Couple of reasons. I’m hoping that good self-maintenance means you’re less likely to look at another stiff dick and wonder if his would make you happy.”
“I would never think that. I love you. I only want you.”
“Uh-huh.” He started to rub her mound in slow, seductive circles. “But I also like to see you smile.”
Her breath caught. “You make me smile.”
“But if I’m not here, I want you to be as happy as you can be.” He plucked her hand from his shoulder and settled it over her damp folds. “Let me see you thrill the hell out of yourself.”
She stiffened. Touching herself was already foreign, but having him watch her, too… Brea risked a glance up at him as she tried to inch away.
His stare was patient, his grip firm. “Do it for me.”
He wasn’t budging until she’d learned this “skill.” She wasn’t sure why it was important to him until she realized Pierce was trying to make sure she could take care of herself as much as possible in his absence. Like the gun safety classes he’d insisted on, which started tomorrow. Like the self-defense sessions she’d found at a church in Lafayette over the next four Monday nights. Like his friend Matt, who would be here on Thursday.
This was one more way Pierce was doing his utmost to make sure she would be all right without him.
Brea tried not to think of the ramifications and focused instead on the moment. “You really do this?”
“If there’s no other alternative, yep. It’s basically a public service. Otherwise, I can be a surly son of a bitch.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re surly, anyway.”
“All right. Surlier. Since no one wants a cranky Brea”—he pressed her palm back over her sex and covered it with his hand, guiding her to rub and stroke herself—“show me you can put yourself in a good mood.”
Normally, she would have balked. Resisted at least. Maybe in time she would have felt more comfortable sinning so utterly in front of Pierce… But time was the one thing they didn’t have. He wanted her to do this, and she wanted to show him that she was strong enough and brave enough to handle whatever came next.
“All right.”
He rolled beside her and propped his head on his palm like he was settling in to enjoy the show. “I’m looking forward to this, but I can already tell I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”
As if to prove his point, Pierce cupped her breasts and thumbed her nipples as she strummed the sensitive button between her thighs.
A jolt of sensation spiked through her belly. Because he was watching her? Because, thanks to Pierce, her body now knew what it felt like to orgasm? Either way, she mimicked the circular, teasing motions he’d used to arouse her in the past.
“That’s it,” he murmured against the side of her breast as he pinched her sensitive nipple. “You look so fucking hot. I’m putting this in my spank bank, for sure.”
His assertion was so unapologetic it was almost funny. But it was also sexy as heck. He found her alluring. He wanted her enough to imagine her while he touched himself.
Right or wrong, that sparked her desire even higher.
She met his fathomless stare. Black could seem so cold. Forbidding and impersonal. Menacing, even. But Pierce’s eyes gleamed as they scorched her with his heat. Her breath caught. Her skin tightened. Her heart banged against her ribs. Her spine twisted. Her ache grew.
She slid her eyes shut and moaned for him.
“Yeah.” He grabbed one of her thighs and dragged it wide so he could get a better view. “Oh, fuck, baby. That’s pretty.”
Brea could feel his unblinking stare on her there, where her fingers met her needy flesh and she craved him most. Her hips began to move and lift in rhythm with her stroke. “Pierce…”
He dragged his tongue over her nipple, then smoothed a hand down her belly. “I’m so here for this. Watching you is the best torture. Rub that clit.”
She did, dragging her slick fingers across her flesh. Pleasure mounted until she no longer felt self-conscious with his stare on her. Instead, she felt empowered. Free. Suddenly, she understood that her body wasn’t shameful. That nothing done in the expression of love should be a sin. She still loved God…but she loved Pierce, too. Those two things weren’t mutually exclusive, and her body wouldn’t have been made for pleasure if she wasn’t meant to give and receive it.
“I feel it coming,” she gasped out. “It’s big.”
“Yeah, it is.” His stare turned impossibly hotter as he plucked her nipple in his mouth, look a long, decadent drag, then clamped it between his thumb and fingers. “I can tell. Your fingers are moving faster. Your skin is flushing. Your pulse is pounding at your neck. You look so hot.”
“Oh.” Her heart echoed and gonged between her ears as the nub under her fingers swelled and hardened more. “Oh!”
“Just like that. Tease yourself now. Lighten your stroke. Really slow. Yeah,” he encouraged. “Wait for it…”
Brea did—and gasped as a wave of hot, greedy need scalded her a moment later. She bit her lip, but nothing stopped her little whine of need.
“I fucking smell you now. It’s taking everything inside me not to put my head between your thighs and eat your pussy mercilessly.”
“Pierce?”
“Baby?”
“You’re not helping…”
He laughed. “Sure, I am.”
With a hot stroke of his tongue, he laved her nipples again, first the one closest, before he leaned over her body to inhale the other in his mouth and drag it tormentingly deep.
Against her will, she cried out. Her back arched. Her hips bucked. Arousal licked her in an unrelenting firestorm. She was so close… “Help. Please.”
“You don’t need me, pretty girl. You got this. But I’m right here, watching every fucking second of you. Give yourself all the pleasure you can. For me.” He kissed his way up to her ear to whisper, “After you come, I’ll fuck you like a bad girl and make you feel so good.”
That shouldn’t turn her on even more. But everything about Pierce thrilled her. It was as if he could see into her psyche and soul. Somehow, he always fed them perfectly with every bit of himself so she felt whole and wonderful.
“Pierce!” Brea couldn’t stop herself from rubbing faster and harder as she imagined him pinning her with his big, hair-roughened body and filling her until she felt stretched, achy, and complete.
That was all it took.
Her need surged. She dragged in a sharp breath and blinked up at him in shock as blood rushed to fill her nipples and engorge her pussy. It lit a fire under every inch of her skin in between.
As ecstasy burst inside her, he smothered her scream with his kiss, encouraging her wit
hout a word to milk her orgasm for every last sensation. Yes, it felt amazing to know exactly where and how to touch her body in order to elicit this response, but she was also stunned by how unfettered she felt in not only giving herself pleasure but in doing it to please him.
As she shuddered and jerked all the way through her climax, Pierce made love to her mouth ruthlessly, filling his hands with her breasts as he guided her in a gentle crash back to her body.
The moment she sighed in repletion, she opened her eyes to find him unzipping and shoving his pants down. Then he plucked her hand from between her trembling thighs.
“Mine.” He sucked her wet fingers into his mouth with a groan as he made a space for himself between her legs.
Brea opened herself in invitation to him. “Yes…”
The word had barely left his lips before he plunged his thick erection into her tight, still-clenching opening. Brea arched to adjust to the burn of his tunneling girth. She was still wriggling to accommodate all of him when he clamped onto her hips, bit her shoulder to muffle his groan, and started pumping in deep, furious strokes.
Brea felt his animal need in every thrust. It lit her body up again. The orgasm she’d thought was on the soft downhill slide to repletion suddenly regathered and soared her toward stinging bliss once more.
She dug her fingers into his back, wrapped her legs around his pistoning hips, and clung as if this might be the last time she felt him.
Because it might be.
“It’s fucking cold outside, and your pussy is like July, baby. Everything about you makes me hot. Always has.”
She rocked her hips with his. “The first time I looked at you I wanted you.”
“It was all over your face. If Cutter hadn’t busted us apart, I was going to shove you in the nearest closet and put my mouth all over you until you said yes.” He punctuated his statement by dragging his lips along her shoulder, then nipping at her lobe. “And the first time I got inside you, I knew you were the last woman I was ever going to fuck.”