by Marie James
“Did you have any questions about your property, Ms. Holland?” The question comes loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and of course there’s a flirtatiousness to his tone, one that suggests he’s here to help. “We could go for a coffee and discuss anything you’d like.”
Another growl from Ignacio, another step back for me.
It’s not unheard of around here for women to use their bodies to get what they want, but that’s just not me. I want to save my house from getting torn down because of the memories that live there, but sexual favors in return would have both of my parents rolling over in their graves.
“Or dinner, if you think we’d need a more intimate setting?”
“Are you fucking done?” Ignacio snaps from the front porch.
Mr. Morgan smiles, his eyes alight with mischief, and the man doesn’t even bother to look over at the unhappy guy speaking to him.
“Fuck. Off,” Ignacio hisses.
“Here’s my card in case you have any questions.” Mr. Morgan slips it into my hand as I continue to glare at Ignacio. “Any questions at all. My personal cell number is on there, just in case something pops up after hours.”
I look down at the card in my hand before looking back up at him. “I don’t—”
“Day or night, Ms. Holland. I’m always available for you.” With a wink, he walks away and climbs into his car.
Ignacio glares at his car, a different one from the one he was driving when he visited my house, until it turns down the street and disappears.
“You were rude to that man,” I hiss.
“He was hitting on you.”
“And? You don’t fucking own me, Ig. This possessive alpha man bullshit has no place in any interaction we have.”
His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t argue the point. “What are you doing here, Tinley? You’ve made it perfectly fucking clear where you stand.”
“I want you to explain this.” I pull the envelope out of my purse and hold it up. He keeps his eyes on mine, not even bothering to look at the thing.
“I wanted you to have a choice.” His words are slow, coming out with so much gravel it’s almost like he’s chewed and swallowed glass.
“A choice? What? Between full-time and part-time?”
His head tilts, brows drawing closer together. “What? Did you even open the fucking envelope?”
A door across the street closes, drawing my attention. An old man waves from his front porch, coffee cup in hand as he takes a seat in an old rocking chair. He holds the thing up in salute as if giving us permission to continue in the front yard with the drama. We’re a damn spectacle, and I hate that my world is being rocked with a damn audience.
“Do you want to come inside?”
Not particularly, but I don’t want all of this to unfold for the entire street to bear witness to either.
Without a word, I climb the steps and follow him inside.
The entire thing is gutted down to the studs. As I follow him deeper, I realize an entire wall is missing, opening up the room so the living area can be seen from the kitchen. There are no cabinets, no countertops, no sink.
“You’ve been busy,” I mutter.
“I’ve had time on my hands,” he says, making it clear he’s done the demolition himself. “I’ve been staying at that other rental property.”
The one with three bedrooms. The one with enough space for a teenager, game room included. The one that would impress a judge.
“What’s in the envelope,” I demand.
“Open the fucking thing, Tin.”
“I—I—” I stare down at the thing in my hands, and I just can’t bring myself to do it.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says, grabbing the thing from me and ripping it open. “You’ve had this damn thing how long? You haven’t even opened it? Who does that? Do you know what’s been riding on this, how long I’ve been agonizing over what’s in here, thinking you opened it and made your choice? Jesus, Tin. Look.”
I search his eyes before looking at his hands, but I don’t find an explanation there either.
“Take it.”
Paper hits my palm, demanding my attention.
“A check?” Damn it, does he really think he can buy my son’s custody from me?
“Your half.”
“Of Alex?”
He sighs, a frustrated grumble before taking a deep breath as if he needs the strength not to react a certain way.
“From the sale of the house.”
I look down now, seeing more zeros than I know should be on there.
“A hundred thousand dollars? That’s half?” I continue to look at the rectangle. “That’s too much—why do you have this to hand over to me?”
I take a step back from him.
“And this,” he snaps, unfolding the other paperwork, “is the goddamn deed to the house. It’s not official and I don’t know if it needs to be refiled, but it requires your signature. Apparently, it’s not okay to give someone a house without them actually signing for it.”
“What?” I look to the legal paperwork in his hands. My brain is spazzing right now, unable to shift gears from thinking this visit was about custody only to find out that he’s somehow involved in the purchase and sale of my mother’s house.
“I made sure Cooper got his half, but I don’t expect him to stay away. He’ll probably come sniffing around for part of yours as we—”
“Stop!” I hold my hand up. “What the hell is going on?”
He glares at me, unable to shift his agitation into something that makes him more approachable.
“You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in this shitty town with shitty circumstances. You wanted to martyr yourself for the sake of pride. You didn’t want to give Alex a better life. You don’t want to love me. Ringing any fucking bells?”
“Ignacio.” I watch as he begins to pace, irritation making him clench his hands, the paperwork in one crinkling.
“I gave you a choice. This,” he shakes the papers, “is a grand gesture, Tin, but you didn’t even look? You had excuses, reasons you couldn’t—”
“I didn’t ask for this!” I scream, my emotions in overdrive. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need fucking saving.”
The stupid check, one for more money than I’ve ever seen or will ever see again floating to the floor at our feet.
“That pride,” he jabs a finger in my direction, “is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Pride? This isn’t about pride. This is about you popping up and turning every fucking thing upside down. This is you making decisions without speaking to me. This is about—”
His lips are on mine, tongue demanding entrance to my mouth. He’s not asking or begging, he’s taking.
It short circuits my brain even further, and as much as I’d like to say I don’t know what’s happening, that lie wouldn’t hold water because my hands are ripping at his clothes just as fast as his are at mine.
Chapter 31
Ignacio
I growl against her mouth when she nips at my lower lip.
This woman drives me fucking insane, and not just because I want to be around her all the time.
Literally insane.
I never considered she didn’t open the fucking envelope, but of course she’d been stewing over it, pissing herself off with each passing minute since I left it with her. I know her. I should have known she would pull this shit.
“Up,” I hiss, grabbing at the back of her thighs when she finally kicks her jeans off one leg. “Fucking hold on, Tin.”
We’re out of control, but I know she’s as into it right now as I am because the throbbing tip of my cock glides easily against her arousal. Fuck I want this so bad, but in the fantasies I’ve let myself engage in since coming back to Texas were thoughts of slow, passionate lovemaking. I never pictured fucking her in the middle of my gutted-out kitchen. Never considered the first time we came together again I’d be standing, urging her to bounce on my cock, but
here the fuck we are.
“Goddamn,” I groan as she slides down the length of me.
Fuck, has a pussy ever felt so fucking good?
She whimpers against my mouth, and it’s the only thing that makes me pause a beat. She’s gripping me like a fist, and I haven’t given her enough time to adjust to me inside of her.
“Wait,” I beg when she rolls her hips, causing her to impale herself deeper. “Jesus.”
Her eyes are slammed closed, her lips parted, breath rushing out in uneven puffs against my mouth. With a bruising grip of my hands, I bounce her once, twice, a third time, controlling the movements, a little out then a lot back in as best I can until I’m inside of her to the fucking root.
Goddamn. Tight. Hot. Slick. Fucking heaven.
My balls are already drawing up, and I growl a warning to them against her lips.
I need a fucking bed to do this right. Silk sheets she can glide against. A pillow to tilt her pussy up so I know I’m hitting her right where her body needs me.
I have none of that, but from the way she’s moaning into my mouth, the swivel of her hips on the downward glide, and the way she’s grinding her clit on me says she’s not even going to need it.
“Get there, baby.” It’s more a warning that I’m about to explode than a true demand.
Shit. God, this is only going to take seconds. Is this the man I’ve become? First at the hotel where just her hands on me for five seconds had the power to make me explode?
“Now, Tin. Fucking now!”
She tenses, her body convulsing in my arms, pussy contracting, internal muscles rippling along the length of me.
And. I’m. Done.
My cock kicks inside of her, five forceful contractions resulting in the best orgasm of my life, hands down.
I pull my lips from her neck, rubbing them against her lips before licking at them.
“That was—”
“Can you put me down?”
“Not yet,” I say, pressing my smile to her… frown? I pull my head back. “Did I hurt you?”
She wiggles, untangling her legs from mine, and it forces me to let her go. She doesn’t meet my eyes as she begins to resituate her clothes.
“Tin?” No response. “Tinley!”
Her eyes find mine, and that frown is still on her pretty face. I hate the sight of it even though her cheeks are still tinted pink from her orgasm. She doesn’t say anything, and I hate how easily I can read people. My skills don’t rest in just spoken words, but body language as well.
What I was letting myself believe was the beginning of something amazing is only the end for her.
“So that’s what this is?” Her eyes dart away. “Get it out of our systems?”
Is she so damn stubborn that she thinks this is what I want? Was her riding my dick a thank you for purchasing and gifting her mother’s house to her? The possibility makes me sick, my stomach literally turning sour as I watch her straighten her shirt.
I know her body felt pleasure. She came too hard to deny that, but if her heart wasn’t in the same place mine was, that changes everything.
“Tinley!” I snap again, hands trembling to touch her but knowing it wouldn’t be welcomed right now.
“Yes,” she says, the word weak as she turns to walk toward the front door. “Getting it out of our systems.”
Then she leaves.
I don’t know how long I stand in the middle of the demolished kitchen with my dick out waiting for her to come back.
She doesn’t come back.
She didn’t take the check either.
Or the paperwork for the house.
But as I place them back into the envelope, I refuse to imagine a world where we aren’t together.
Chapter 32
Tinley
I’ve made more mistakes in my life than I care to admit.
Saturday, going to him, doing what we did was just another one to add to the list.
But I can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop living it again.
And it’s not just the sex that infiltrates my mind making it impossible to focus. Yeah, it was hot. Mind-blowing. The best experience of my life.
But it was also tainted with anger and lies and false hope.
Do you think that would stop me from fucking you if you offered?
He said those words to me shortly after showing up on my doorstep.
He’s a man. Sex is what they do. They wield it as a weapon, and despite it being damn good sex, it was a mistake. I knew it the second he tried to kiss me after I came. Before, all I could think about was him. How I needed him. How my body craved him. How he made me feel safe.
Then reality came slamming back into me.
I went there to confront him, not fuck him.
Best laid plans and all that.
“Mom?”
I snap out of my head, finding Alex already in the car with me.
“How was school?” I ask, wondering how long it’s been since the final bell rang.
They don’t have practice today, the coach giving them a few days off after the tournament from the weekend.
“I thought Dad was going to pick me up.”
“Nope,” I say as I put the car in gear and head out of the parking lot. “You’re stuck with me today.”
The drive is spent with Alex telling me about a fight that happened in the cafeteria at lunch. I’m just grateful he was a bystander this time and not in the thick of it.
I do my best to pay attention, hoping my random noises match up with the highs and lows of the story because I can’t concentrate to save my life right now.
I left the check behind because it feels like tainted money. Despite it being owed to me, it feels like it comes with conditions attached to it, and that really sucks because I needed that money to relocate, to get us out of this neighborhood.
The deed to the house was left behind too. I can’t take that from him. I don’t care if he called it a grand gesture. There have always been conditions to every gift I’ve ever been given. This one is no different.
“Looks like I’m not stuck alone with you after all,” Alex says, a smile in his voice.
Ignacio is standing on the front stoop arms crossed over his muscled chest, and my body’s first response is heat, but not the angry kind.
I know the power he holds in those arms and thick thighs. I know that he can easily hold the weight of my entire body aloft while he fucks himself into me. I know he can make me come on his dick with a few well-aimed jabs. The man was good at sex. I thought so before when he was the only one I had been with. Not that I have much experience outside of him, but he’s one of a kind.
“Mom? Are you going to get out?” Alex is standing outside the car, bent at the waist looking at me.
I nod, turn off the ignition and climb out.
The man can’t take a hint, and each time I see him, he manages to break down just a little bit of what I’m trying to build up against him. When Alex walks up to him and wraps his arms around him, both giving the other a quick squeeze, those walls crumble just a little more, and I’m left nearly helpless at this point, out of ideas of how to protect myself and my son from the inevitable where this man is concerned.
Alex disappears inside before I make it to the stoop, but Ignacio doesn’t move to the side to let me pass him. My back straightens as I look up at him, daring him to challenge me again.
“You can’t keep doing this.”
Those are his first words as if I’m the one to show up at his house this time.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You can’t keep on with this push-and-pull bullshit, Tinley.”
“Me?” I chuckle, something I manage without the hint of a smile on my face. “I started this? You’re the expert at push and pull or have you forgotten the reason I never told you about Alex in the first place?”
“I thought we weren’t playing games.”
“There’s nothing about this situation that’s a ga
me, and that’s the whole damn point.” I keep my voice low, but the words still come out on a growl. “I’m trying to protect myself, protect our son.”
“From me? You think you need to protect him from me?” His fist hits his chest with each angry word.
“You hurt people. It’s only a matter of time.”
His head tilts back, hands running over his face as he takes a deep breath, and I can admit this man is different from the one I used to know. Years ago, teenage Ignacio would just explode. He would take a breath before letting his rage fly, but calm or outraged, the outcome would always be the same.
“You’re hurting me,” he says, his voice eerily calm, and I can tell from the sadness raging in his eyes that it takes a lot for him to admit that out loud.
What I can’t tell is if he’s using that pain as another form of control, power he’s trying to exert over me.
“I want you, Tinley.”
“You want your son under your thumb,” I counter. “I’m just the obligation that comes along with that.”
“I swear, you—” He snaps his mouth closed, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “Okay.”
He turns around, heading into the house, and the five-minute confrontation leaves me exhausted. My body sags to the steps, unable to hold the weight of everything upright.
He can’t want me now. He didn’t want me then. Then things were much less complicated. We were practically kids. We had no money and no real jobs, not that it’s much different for me in my current situation, but I always power through.
I can make it through life without him, but his insistence that I don’t have to keeps that voice in the back of my head urging me to take a chance on constant repeat.
I want to trust him. I want to be his. I want him to love me the way I thought he did long ago. I want it all. I want to dive so far deep into him that it takes me a lifetime to crawl back out, but I don’t have to worry about just myself. I have Alex to think of, and if things go south with Ignacio and me, then that will alter what they have. I already stole nearly thirteen years from them. It would be selfish to take more, and I don’t see an outcome where Alex isn’t put in the position to have to choose between us. Either way, one of us loses and Alex loses most of all.
