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Protector Of Convenience (Rogue Protectors Book 2)

Page 16

by Victoria Paige


  Abbi Mena held up her hand. “Let me speak, mi corazón. I know that was said because you’re afraid. Uncertain.” Then she turned to Ariana. “Do not expect my daughter and grandchildren to immediately leave their comfort zones. They are fierce and they will stand by family and that family includes you now, understand?”

  “Yes, Abbi Mena,” she whispered.

  “This is a time to contemplate your words before speaking,” she continued, then her gaze pointedly rested on her grandchildren, waiting for them to respond. They nodded.

  Ariana understood as well. Words said in the heat of the moment could leave wounds that never heal.

  The men returned at that instant—Migs with Leon, his father and Cesar following close behind. The men must have sensed the tension in the air because their footsteps slowed upon entering the kitchen. At least Migs certainly did as his concerned gaze flew to Ariana.

  “What’s going on?” he barked.

  “Nothing,” Ariana and Delia spoke too quickly, deepening his scowl.

  He stalked toward her, tense lines bracketing his mouth and he raised a hand to cup a side of her cheek. His fierce eyes searching hers. Ariana tried her best to withstand his scrutiny, she even smiled, but he wasn’t convinced. His gaze lifted and swept across the table. “I hope none of you are blaming Ariana for what happened.”

  “Of course not,” Delia said. “We were just discussing who would be stupid enough to do this to our family.”

  “Joaquín, for one,” Tessa spoke as Cesar picked up his wife’s hand and kissed the back of her fingers.

  Ariana tugged Miguel’s arm to draw his attention. “I told them Carillo might be regaining strength.”

  Migs gave a brief nod. “The cartels are so fractured right now that any one of them could be responsible, even the breakaway groups.” He turned to Drew. “Anything from Joaquín?”

  “He had a face-to-face with the Ponce-Neto organization.”

  “Is that a good idea?” Delia asked.

  “They’re straightforward,” Drew said. “And according to Joaquín, their leadership respects the Alcantara name and gave reassurance it was not them. They’re going to tap into their sources on the streets to see what they can find out.”

  “Why don’t you all sit around the table and have a proper breakfast,” Abbi Mena said. She’d gone back to the front of the stove when the men came in, returned and lowered a tureen of aromatic oatmeal on the table, before coming back with spoons and bowls. Ariana liked the Mexican version that cooked the oats in cinnamon and condensed milk. She could feel her hips expanding as she scooped a bowl for Migs.

  “Where are Lettie and Pat?” Migs asked, sitting by Ariana.

  “They’re taking care of the lechón in the yard. We still have to eat, no?” Abbi Mena said and looked at her. “See, Ariana, I told you this family is fierce. The women won’t let you starve. If they need to gather mushrooms in the forest to feed their menfolk, they will do it.”

  “Mushrooms wouldn’t be enough to feed us.” Migs’ amusement relaxed the sharp edges of his face. “Think she can hunt a rabbit?”

  “That will depend on whether Maripat is vegetarian at that time or not,” Bella quipped. The three of them laughed, while Abbi Mena smiled broadly.

  “There’s a group whose leader goes by the name of The Whistler,” Cesar continued the original thread of conversation as Cora hopped a chair over so he could sit beside Tessa. “That’s all we got out of the truck driver before the DEA swooped in. Leon could’ve gotten more out of Ramon.”

  “Where’s Ramon now?” Tessa asked. “I can’t believe he was involved in this. He always showed pictures of his wife and kids to us.”

  “The DEA has him,” Leon said.

  “I’m worried about his family,” Migs’ oldest sister said.

  “Joaquín is checking with them. Making sure they’re not being harassed,” Drew said.

  “They live on the outskirts of Cayetano,” Tessa said. “Might be a good idea to bring them into town.”

  As Cesar, Tessa, Leon, and his father discussed what to do with the family of the truck driver, Migs gave her a nudge. “Sure you’re okay?” he whispered.

  “I’m fine. Finish that oatmeal.”

  “So bossy,” he muttered. “Hmm … I missed this. I don’t think I’ve had this since I was a teenager.”

  “I haven’t had this since before my mother died,” Ariana said wistfully. Her memories of her mother were blurry, but somehow the aroma of oats cooked with the sweetened milk stayed with her.

  “Didn’t mean to make you sad.” He stuck his spoon into the thick porridge and put the crook of a finger under her chin, lifting it up. “I don’t like the shadows under your eyes either.”

  “I’m haggard looking?” It was the wrong time to act self-conscious, but what was a new bride to feel?

  However, the way Migs’ eyes softened, crinkling at the corners with amusement, took away her momentary vanity. That and the words he uttered. “You still look beautiful to me.” Then just like that, his eyes hardened into onyx. “But don’t think you’re off the hook.” He dropped his gaze from her and picked up his coffee, giving it a sip.

  “What did I do?” She had an idea, but she was hoping he’d forgotten about it.

  He cast her a look full of heat and rebuke. “You left the safety of the ranch without me.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Let my husband rot in jail?”

  “Pops was on top of it.”

  “Can you honestly say if I hadn’t called John, your stubborn ass wouldn’t still be there?”

  “Who’s John?” Tessa asked.

  Ariana resisted the urge to slap a hand to her mouth, but she froze as eight pairs of eyes zeroed in on them.

  Migs had his poker face on. “A friend of Ariana’s who has a finger in every law enforcement pie.” He put his arm around her and gave it a squeeze. “She called in a favor.”

  Cesar coughed into his hand. “Very helpful…whoever he is. Thanks, Ariana.”

  “Yes, but—” Tessa started.

  The kitchen door slammed open with Lettie and Pat stumbling in, their faces covered in soot.

  “We need Miguel or Cesar in the yard.” Lettie gulped in between peals of laughter. Both sisters were giggling and bent over in stitches.

  “What’s wrong?” Abbi Mena ran to the window just as everyone caught a whiff of something burning. “Madre de Dios. You’re supposed to start charcoal not a bonfire.”

  Migs quickly finished his oatmeal and grabbed the coffee mug. Passing his grandmother, he said, “Feed their menfolk, huh?”

  Ariana breathed a sigh of relief as everyone forgot her slip about John Garrison, the men emptying the table to provide their macho expertise to salvage lunch.

  The rest of the day passed with less tension. With stomachs full and with the lack of sleep taking its toll on everyone, most of them chilled out on the patio.

  Drew and Delia commandeered the hammocks when the light breeze swept in during the late afternoon hours. Abbi Mena had retired to her room, saying she was done for the day and the excitement was too much for her old age.

  Tessa and Cesar had left for their house.

  Leon was around somewhere.

  The rest of Migs’ sisters were playing scrabble and Cora appeared to be winning.

  “Looks like Cora is demolishing the competition,” Ariana murmured sleepily against his chest.

  “She’s a bookish person like Lettie, and a fan of trivia games and Jeopardy,” Migs said. They were stretched out on an outdoor swing bed and he had both arms wrapped around his wife. It fueled more than a few dirty thoughts, and he hoped like hell no emergency would come up this time and ruin his plans for the night. He was still mad at Ariana for leaving the ranch with Pops. He was antsy when he was in jail because he couldn’t get hold of Garrison. The useless one phone call they allowed in jail wouldn’t do shit because Garrison had to call back anyway.

  Good thing, Pops was tight with the l
ocal PD and they notified him. When Migs was sprung from jail, he had a gut feeling that Ariana had contacted Garrison. He wasn’t prepared for the punch in the gut upon seeing his wife, devoid of makeup and disheveled. Ariana looked too beautiful for a tattooed roughneck like Migs. His wife was too pure to be anxiously waiting at the reception area in the midst of San Diego’s drunk, disorderly or low-life crowd who are hauled in during the late shift from midnight to six.

  He was compelled to snatch her away and hide her, but he ended up kissing her instead.

  He missed her. The idea of being away from her for a couple of hours and the uncertainty of the clusterfuck perpetuated by the DEA raid had put him on a razor’s edge. Even after he was released from jail, he was consumed by the need to make her his. He was just waiting for the right time to disappear into their room.

  Ah, the joy of having your family watch your every move.

  As soon as this stay was over, Migs was buying a place wherever Ariana wanted to live. He’d fuck her in every corner. His dick came to life behind his jeans. Ariana’s ass was pressed against it. Good thing she was half-asleep.

  “I’m making more mojitos,” Pat got up from the game and walked by them. “Ari?”

  “She’s asleep.”

  “No, I’m not. None for me,” she said. “I haven’t recovered from our last drinking binge.”

  “Miguel? Beer?”

  “I’ll grab one later.”

  Pat shrugged and went into the house.

  “I can feel you poking me.” Even when he couldn’t see her face, he could imagine her smile from her voice.

  He lowered his head and whispered by her ear. “What do you say we go to our room?”

  “It’s early.”

  “Call it a delayed siesta.”

  “How about dinner?”

  “Woman, how can you think about dinner when your man can’t wait to sink inside you?”

  Silence.

  “Ari?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  17

  They couldn’t wait to get into their room. After giving an excuse that they were taking a nap, all eyes gave them a knowing look so that even Migs felt heat creep up his neck. Forget about Ariana. Her face was as red as a tomato, a beacon that sex was exactly what they had in mind.

  Crazy energy pinged between them, and they forced themselves to walk normally through the house, waving off Pat who asked where the hell they were going. But once they got to the hallway, they hurried along like children trying to escape the school principal.

  When they fell into the room, he pushed Ariana up against the wall, kissing her ferociously. His fingers slipped under the wide leg of her shorts and dug into her ass, lifting her.

  “Migs.” She was breathless.

  He tore his mouth away. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day.”

  She dipped her head and inhaled him. “You smell so good.”

  He smirked. “I haven’t showered so much in my life as I did today. After breakfast, after cooking outdoors. I wanted to be ready just in case we got a chance.” He rocked into her, letting her know exactly how ready he was. “Been hard all day, babe.”

  “I noticed.”

  He canted his head as their lips teased each other, not quite touching, she was evading his kisses playfully and it was driving him mad. “Let me have those sweet lips,” he commanded.

  Finally, he captured them and he set her down and unfastened her shorts. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband, straight for her pussy. Drenched. He dipped a finger into her tightness, and it coated his finger with her arousal. Lifting his head again, he held her eyes captive as he sucked that finger.

  “I love your taste,” he growled. He dropped to his knees and he pressed his mouth against her panties before drawing them over her hips, hardly losing contact with her skin. He nipped at the flesh at the juncture of her thigh. Her back arched and her fingers held his head, pushing him lower.

  Fuck yeah.

  He could smell her. Her need for him. It made the caveman in him roar and he couldn’t wait to fuck her, mark her as his.

  Remembering how she tasted, he swiped at the sensitive bud nestled between her lips. With his tongue, he lapped up and down her slit and straight into her juices. He consumed her, ferocious like an addict in need of a fix. His self-control fractured when she moaned his name. He attacked, licking in broad strokes, his body in tune to her responses. He wanted to drive her crazy the way she’d made him come undone.

  Just the taste of her. Fuck.

  Migs was a goner.

  After he owned her multiple orgasms, he held her up by pinning his hips to her torso. “Don’t crash on me now, babe.” He chuckled at her dazed expression.

  “You’re good at that,” she murmured.

  “Only because it’s you,” he said as he ripped a condom packet with his teeth.

  He was wearing athletic shorts, so it wasn’t hard to wrap up. A hand shifted to her right leg and slung it over his hip. “Last chance, Ari. Say no and I’ll stop.”

  Her eyes flared. “Don’t you dare.”

  He didn’t need further encouragement.

  He positioned his cock and drove into her.

  Her moan, her eyes rolling back, unleashed the beast he was keeping on lockdown.

  With one hand gripping her hair, he yanked her head back, exposing her throat. He watched the pulse fluttering beneath tender skin, watching it quicken as he thrust hard into her again and again. Her changing expressions enthralled him, and seeing that luscious mouth fall open, he couldn’t help imagining it wrapped around his cock. Would its grip be as tight as her pussy?

  “Open your eyes,” he said harshly. His fingers tightening in her hair. “I want to watch you come again. I want you to see me fuck this tight pussy of yours, Ariana.”

  Her cries caught in her throat, matching his grunts as his thrusts slid her body up and down against the wall. For a fleeting second, he thought he was being too rough with her, but her nails gouging his shoulders told him otherwise.

  “You’re like a tight wet slide, babe.” Her inner muscles clenched over him and his mind blanked. He tried to last longer, but he was so damned hard. “Come with me, Ari.” He released her hair and lowered his hand between them and strummed her clit. She clawed at his neck as she muffled her scream just as he erupted inside her.

  “Fuck me, fuck me,” he groaned. Sensations that started at the small of his back, rippled up his spine locking his neck, his whole body shuddering with the intensity of his release. He dragged her from the wall and staggered to the bed, dropping them into it, still connected. He rolled over and continued to move, her inner muscles continued squeezing him until he finally drove deep and stayed. Migs dropped his head to her breasts, trying to catch his breath, then he fell to her side and hauled her into the crook of his arms.

  No words would come because no words could describe what had just happened.

  Ariana was quiet beside him, and he couldn’t help trailing his fingers up and down her smooth skin. She was naked from the waist down, and all that remained was a tank top. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “I would hope not,” she sassed huskily. “I’m still wearing clothes and so are you.”

  He grinned. “Complaining already, wife?”

  “Complaining? No. But I’d like to see what you so spectacularly impaled me against the wall with.”

  Migs barked a laugh and jackknifed to a sitting position, turning toward Ariana and grinning. “Be right back.”

  He quickly disposed of the condom and returned to Ariana who was about to remove the tank top she was wearing.

  “Stop.” He ordered as he put a knee on the bed. “I’m taking off every piece of clothing from your body tonight.”

  “It’s barely evening.”

  “Quiet.” He lifted her top and threw it on the floor. As he removed her bra, his temptress had her own ideas and gripped him in her hand. He pushed her back against the mattress and she start
ed to stroke him.

  And his cock cooperated and grew with each stroke.

  “Wife,” he growled. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  She arched a delicate brow. “Oh? why?”

  “You’re insatiable.” His head lowered and he sucked a nipple. He laved her tits with his tongue, and she was squirming against him even as her hand was trapped between them. Finally, she released her hold and planted both hands on his shoulders, pushing him up and away.

  Migs brows drew together. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

  She grinned, her mouth curving with a wicked, sensual smile that made boys into men, and made men want to sell their soul for a blow job from those lips.

  Ariana got to her knees and they were face to face. Then with one hand she shoved him on his back and straddled him with her exquisitely hot core against his erection.

  Her eyes were smoky with heat, and he lay mesmerized as she peeled his shirt from his chest. He grew even harder when her gaze took in his body, teeth biting her lower lip. She liked what she saw and Migs was pleased. No, he was downright fucking smug. Ariana crawled over him, gave him a wet sloppy kiss before trailing down his body while pressing kisses against his overheated skin.

  His cock was already half exposed because his shorts were riding below his hips. Migs was breathing faster now as her mouth went lower. She glanced at him and smiled in triumph, and with their gazes locked, she took him in her mouth.

  Migs was a goner.

  Hot wet suction almost made him come. He was only saved from embarrassment because this was his second round. He gritted his teeth as pleasure rose with each pull from her mouth. Ariana held him at her mercy. Teasing him with deliberate, corkscrew twists of her mouth.

  He crunched up and gripped her on either side of her head. “Ariana,” he groaned. “Go faster. Take me deeper.”

  She released his cock and she looked so alluring with her full lips swollen and glistening. “I want you to use me.”

  “What?” He wasn’t sure he heard her right.

  “You’re my big, tattooed, badass husband and yet you’re treating me like glass.”

 

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