Yours (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 4)

by Elena M. Reyes

  “Don’t you dare apologize!” Lourdes hisses, face hard, and I’m surprised by this sudden flip in her mood. “Mariah told me you’d feel guilty, that you were probably holding stuff in for my benefit, but dammit, this isn’t on you. My brothers didn’t know. Our security messed up. It’s just one giant mess, and that woman upstairs is amazing.”

  Teenage girls are hard to follow. We went from crying to angry to now a small giggle.

  Lord, please don’t repay my sins with daughters.

  “What did my Muñeca say?” This for some reason fills me with guilt. This beautiful, selfless, and utterly perfect-for-me-woman flew here to be my support, and I fell asleep on her. When did they talk? What happened while I was knocked out?

  “The same thing you just did, but in a more eloquent way.” Lourdes takes a sip from her mug and immediately adds more sugar. A lot more sugar. “She’s smart and so sweet, Javi. Don’t mess it up.”

  “I won’t.”

  “He won’t,” we answer in unison, and my body turns in her direction. Mariah’s sleep-rumpled and still wearing my shirt, just with a pair of tights beneath. “Got any more coffee? I woke up with a minor headache.”

  “Let me find you something for that. Be right back.” Lourdes gets up and turns to rush out but stops and hugs me instead. It’s a quick one, but I feel her relief and I kiss her forehead before nudging her toward the door.

  “Mom’s bathroom should have something for that.”

  “Okay.” She brushes by Mariah and surprises us both by giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, new cousin.”

  My girl’s shocked, but I’m not. She’s too lovable for her own good.

  I’ve been powerless against her after her threat to shoot me the day we met.

  “Hi.”

  “Morning, linda.” A hint of a blush crosses her cheeks, and she shuffles closer when I crook a finger, pulling her between my parted legs at the counter. Her warmth seeps into my skin. Her touch sets my heart ablaze. “How bad is it?”

  “Mild. Don’t worry.” Her hands cup my face, thumbs sweeping beneath my eyes. “You sleep okay?”

  “Like the dead.”

  “You snored like it, too.” A sweet little snort escapes her, and I grip her hips, digging my fingers in when it turns into giggles. “Stop it.”

  “Take that back.”

  “Never.”

  “Then I’ll never stop.”

  “Is this your way of saying you want to keep me?”

  Letting go of her side, I bring my right hand to the back of her neck and hold her to me. Lips against lips. Breathing each other in. “I plan to do more than keep you, Mariah. I’m going to love you until the day I die, and even death won’t stop or diminish what I feel for you.”

  “Good.” She nibbles my bottom lip and then pulls back. “Because we will be revisiting these words in a few days.”

  “They won’t change.”

  “And I won’t leave your side.”

  21

  HE’S BEEN HOLED up in his study for the last twenty-four hours.

  Alone and hurting. Needing space after lowering his mother to the ground, while the rest of the house—his family—entertains me. They don’t need to, but they do, and I stifle a laugh when his aunt Sara brings out another photo album dedicated to the Lucas men in their baby years.

  “And here’s Javier running from Ida after he decided to redecorate their living room at the time with finger paints.” The little boy in the picture couldn’t be older than six and had a shitty grin on his face as his mother ran behind him with a flip-flop in her hand. “Can you believe he paused for ten seconds, hand on his hip, while I took the picture and his mom closed in? Ida wanted to kill him, while I laughed my butt off.” She pauses for a moment, an innocent expression on her face when Alejandro sits across from us on the lanai. “Everything all right, mijo?”

  “How many has she subjected you to, Mariah?” I hold up three fingers in response and she smacks my shoulder, a mock-outraged gasp coming from her place beside me. Chulo’s on the floor beside my feet and looks up then, his eyes connecting with mine as if to say they are all crazy, then plops down. He’s been by my side since we met the night I arrived.

  Sweetest good boy you’ll ever meet.

  “And he’s the rascal of the family, Chulo.” Lourdes stops in front of a large dog bed that looks like a sofa and is fit for royalty. It’s huge and looks soft, and I’m almost jealous of how comfortable the large Doberman seems to be. After Javi went to sleep and my confession, the small slip of the tongue right after his eyes closed, I became restless. Hungry. And the knock at the door from Lourdes saved me from waking the lightly snoring man. “He’s a sweetheart, but be careful until he gets to know you. He’s protective of the family and was hurt trying to protect Mamita Ida.”

  Not listening to her, I kneel in front of the sweet boy and hold my hand out. Chulo looks at it, his teeth showing for a few seconds before there’s a soft lick, and then another. His tail wags the more he’s allowed to greet me—make a new friend—before nudging my hand to give him a good old-fashioned head scratch.

  “Aren’t you the cutest thing, Chulo? Such a good boy.” The dog gives me the sweetest look and I melt, as completely owned by the dog as I am the owner. And because I can’t help myself, I bend over and kiss the top of his head. “I’m so going to want to take you home with me.”

  “You truly are one of us.”

  At this I look up, head tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “We aren’t the easiest bunch.”

  “My family will give yours a run for its money.” Chulo crawls closer, setting his head atop my lap for more scratches. “But then again, crazy embraces lunacy without question.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Leaning down, she runs her fingers through Chulo’s back. “It’s why I think you two were meant to be. You understand him, and he gets you.”

  “Shame on you, Madre. Just, shame.” Alejandro’s voice pulls me away from the memory, and I look between the mother and son duo. He’s serious, while she’s outspoken and sweet.

  “Zip it, Alejandro.” Sara nudges my shoulder after turning the page, a younger version of the man across from us in black and white. He’s dressed like a cowboy, boots and all while cheesing it at the camera beside Emiliano. The older brother’s wearing a horse costume, the head in his hand, and it’s large and goofy. “How cute were they? My boys—”

  “Are going to dig up the old family albums my mother kept hidden in her closet.” Everyone turns to look at Javier at the entrance to the back terrace. He’s smiling a bit but looks exhausted and as if he’s had more than a drink or two, and yet, his eyes are sharp when they settle on me and his dog’s proximity. “You ready for that kind of smoke, Aunt Sara?”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Try me.” I’m amused by their banter, and my shoulders shake when she slams the book shut and hides it behind her. “That’s better. Don’t embarrass me in front of my Muñeca.”

  “I thought it was adorable,” I say, and all eyes turn my way. The men have their eyes narrowed while Sara’s glisten with tears. “The Lucas men as kids were total badasses.”

  “Is she mocking us, primo?” Alejandro asks, sitting forward with an evil smirk on his face.

  “I think she is.” Javi walks closer, stopping a few feet from me and his dog quickly takes a stance in front of me. “And look at this; she’s stolen my best friend too.”

  “Total disrespect.” Alejandro tsks while his mom shakes her head, a few tears falling, and my heart clenches because I know this is hard. It was her sister we put to rest yesterday and her daughter that could’ve been killed, and yet, she’s here and entertaining me as if I’m the most important person here. She’s doing what Ida would’ve done had I been blessed with meeting her.

  “We should teach her a lesson.” Javi comes a little closer and my eyes narrow, lip curls into a mock-sneer. “Lucas men are to be respected at all times.�
�

  “Really?” Taking her hand in mine, I squeeze it while Sara rolls her eyes. She wipes away the fallen tears discreetly while Javi focuses on his pet, silently commanding Chulo to pick his side. God bless the women of this family with endless patience. “My threat from the first day still stands, Javier, and I’ll extend it if I must.”

  “What threat?” Lourdes walks out holding a tray with coffee and my newest addiction: pan de Bono. It’s always to be eaten a few minutes out of the oven and is soft, the bread and cheese combination melting in your mouth, and I can’t get enough of these. Placing the tray on the coffee table between the seats, she hands me my cup first and then Javier’s, her mother and brother grabbing their own. “I feel like this is a story that needs to be told.”

  “Quit being nosy, kid.”

  “Don’t ruin our fun, nephew,” Sara says, but her attention is on me. “What threat are you talking about, Mariah?”

  “You want to do the honors?” I ask and he shakes his head, smiling at me in that boyish way that makes my heart flutter. However, it’s his eyes that captivate me. There’s sadness in them, a pain he can’t escape, but a sliver of love remains and it’s directed at me. As if I’m what’s holding him together and it’s a heady feeling, to know that my being here gives him a semblance of peace—comfort. “Are you sure? I’m giving you a chance to look good here.”

  “Go on.” He waves a hand around us. “Tell them how horrible you’ve been to me.”

  My glare makes his family grin. “Threatening to shoot you isn’t the worst thing I could’ve done.”

  “You did what?” Lourdes screams, laughing at the annoyed look on her cousin’s face. “That’s priceless.”

  “I need all the details.” That came from Sara.

  “You’ve gone soft, primo.” Alejandro had to add his two cents in.

  I shrug, taking a sip from my cup. “Not the first or last time, either. It’s almost a daily occurrence and a bit of foreplay for him,” I mumble the last part under my breath, but they heard and coupled with my slight embarrassment at the slip, they all crack up. And it’s worth it because for that brief moment they’re not thinking of death and violence or retribution.

  Moreover, I’d gladly become a comedian to watch him let go even if it’s just for a moment.

  “Good morning, Muñeca,” he whispers from behind me, his arm and leg thrown over my body. I’m almost pinned in place by Javier—the little spoon to his giant one—and the vibrations from his chest when he speaks cause goose bumps to rise across my flesh. “You ready to start the day?”

  “No.” I’m being honest. Being here has been amazing the last week, but I am exhausted and in need of more than the seven hours of sleep I got last night. Javier’s home where we are all staying is grand and beautiful, sitting on almost thirty acres of farmland that needs tending to.

  He has horses and pigs and chickens—crops of marijuana that he and Alejandro cultivate and then test the strains before any sales occur.

  Then, there is his mother’s house near the large stream that runs along the back end of the property. Where she was killed, and Lourdes terrorized. He’s had it demolished in the last few days after a day spent taking out what he wanted to keep, and what his aunt wanted as mementos.

  It was a grueling day. The women cried and the men comforted, but it was in my arms that night that Javier truly let go.

  He allowed himself the few tears that fell before rage took root instead. And I embraced it; his anger and need for revenge.

  “What are you thinking, Javi?” I cup his face, needing to keep his troubled eyes on mine. “Quit worrying about anything but what you need. Tell me, and we’ll find a way.”

  “Let it go. I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit.” I’m pushing him. Have been doing it since he came out of isolation, and after the emotional days he’s had, Javier will snap if he doesn’t accept—confront his emotions. “And we’re not leaving this room until you’re honest with me. Nothing you say will make me see you differently or leave; I’m here for the long haul.”

  “I’m hanging by a thread, sweet girl, and don’t want you to—”

  “I accept all of you.”

  “Thank you.” His eyes soften, the slightly, red-rimmed edges crinkling when he smiles. A genuine one, and not the fake/forced one he puts on for the women of this family. Not because they need to be coddled, but because he cares and wants to shoulder their pain.

  “Let me help and then thank me.”

  “Help with what?”

  “I want the bloodied bodies of those responsible at your feet.”

  His laughter shakes us both while fingers explore across my chest and down, not stopping until removing his leg and slipping a finger beneath the edge of my panties. “You can always sleep for a bit in the car. We have about a three-hour car ride from here to my surprise.”

  “A surprise?” I whimper out when he slides down to just above my clit, tapping the sensitive area to the beat of a song only he knows the notes to. “Where are we—”

  “No questions.” This time he slaps my flesh with three fingers, his hand stretching the delicate lace. “I want you to nod and give me a kiss before getting ready with the clothes I left out for you yesterday.” Lips just below my ear, he nips the skin there and then soothes the sting with a flick of his tongue. “Can you do that for me, Ms. Asher?”

  “Yes.” I’m rewarded with tight circles on my clit. They range from soft to rough—a vicious cycle that brings me to the edge sooner than I thought possible. Just the tip of two fingers are touching me, circling the throbbing bundle of nerves while his mouth attacks my neck with bites and licks.

  I’m moaning for him. Fighting to turn around and kiss him—touch him—but his hold on me doesn’t allow anything but his control. One of his hands is on my hip while the other strums my clit, I’m powerless, unable to do more than cry out in pleasure each time he brings me to the edge.

  “You’re perfect for me, Mariah,” he groans against my neck, his breathing harsh and cock hard against my backside. “Mine.”

  “Javi,” I mewl on a breathless whisper, clinging to his forearm as the first wave of bliss knocks into me. For a second or two, I can’t breathe and cling to him, undulating as he wrings every last drop of pleasure and then when there’s nothing left, Javi dips below and pumps his fingers inside me twice.

  They’re glistening when he brings them to his lips, inhaling deep before sucking each until no trace of my wetness is left. “Fuck, baby girl. So sweet.” My core clenches and he grips my chin with the same fingers, turning my face toward his. I smell myself on his lips and fingers. I can feel a small trail of wetness on my ass just above where the head of his cock flexes. “I’m going to enjoy you today, Mariah. All of you, before you leave tomorrow.”

  “Please.” It’s all I can manage past the sudden dryness of my mouth, the heat of my skin.

  “Good girl.” Another clench and he smiles as if he knows my body is crying out for him. To feel him buried deep. “Now, go get dressed for me, and no panties. I want access to your body all day.”

  22

  “WE’RE HERE, MARIAH,” I say, softly stroking her cheek while the beautiful girl beside me stirs, arching her back while beginning to stretch. My eyes roam down her body, admiring her every curve and dip displayed in the simple cotton dress I’ve put her in.

  It’s soft against her skin; a light pink number with small pearl buttons down the middle of her chest flares a bit at her hips and ends just above her mid-thighs. And she wears the simplicity so well.

  The two stiff points adorned by the nipple shield—I can make out the jeweled circular ring around each tip and my mouth waters. I also can’t stop myself and lower my hand from her face, brushing my knuckles down the right and then left breast, smiling when she sighs and those seafoam eyes open.

  She’s looking at me with hunger. Mirroring my need.

  “Where are we?” Her voice is husky, tinged with the last dregs of
sleep. Warm eyes look around and her head tilts, wondering why we’re out in the middle of nowhere with a large waterfall behind us that crests over a large lake. There’s also a modest home, not lacking in luxury but the size is meant for intimacy and not hosting people.

  It’s a place I come when needing to regroup. To calm the raging ire that at times consumes me, but today, I’m here to share it with her. To show her more of who I am.

  “This place belongs to me.”

  “Really?” Her question isn’t because she doubts the money I have, but more of why the seclusion. “Are you here to kill me and dump the body?” Mariah lets out a cute giggle, the movement causing her breasts to jiggle and my knuckles to press a little harder over each tip.

  Her laugh turns into a moan; the sound sends a shiver down my spine. Makes my cock throb.

  “I’m here to eat you, Muñeca.”

  “Should I be afraid?”

  “For my sanity? Absolutely.” With a single sharp slap over her right tit, I cup her face and bring her closer, almost touching my lips before I stand, and just like I knew she would, Mariah follows. I’m barely touching her, but she’s following my body further away from the car, walking closer and closer to the water’s edge.

  A mist greets our legs and I pause, groaning when her body doesn’t stop. Instead, my beauty presses the length of her short frame against my harsher planes and then rises onto the tips of her toes, lips right where they belong.

  On mine. Touching. Licking the seam when I don’t part them for her.

  “Kiss me.”

  “No.” Fire flashes in her orbs, the challenge I’ve needed making itself present. And I push. Yank the proverbial chain of her pleasure with my denial. “We’re here to have lunch and nothing more.”

  Frustrations sparks. Confusion.

  But today is about her. What I know she needs.

  Mariah is so used to having control that losing the tight leash around her neck—stepping out of the mold she’s been forced into by other’s careless mistakes—scares her. But she craves it. Silently, she wants to let go and not worry about the consequences, nor the opinion of others about who she should be.