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Wind Therapy (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 2)

Page 23

by A. J. Downey


  “English, Grandma!” she shouted back. “The people of this village are used to you calling me a whore and these men are obviously disinterested in dealing with you anymore, so what do you care if they hear it? It’s not like half of them don’t speak Spanish anyway! You’re not hiding anything. Not anymore!”

  “Keep talking to my woman that way,” I said, “I’ll disappear you.” I leveled a flat and unfriendly look in Abuela’s direction.

  “Go get your brother,” I said to Marisol. “The rest of you get ready to roll out. Seems these good folks just want to spectate and aren’t interested in these drugs. They’d rather kowtow to the wildebeest up there.”

  Marisol went forward and up the steps. Abuela grabbed her arm and Marisol was a champion of her own destiny. She whipped out the pistol I’d given her and pressed it under Abuela’s chin. She gave her grandmother a scathing look and through gritted teeth declared, “No one is ever putting a hand on me that I don’t want there ever again. You want to keep your brain in your skull, take it off of me – now!”

  Abuela glared, stubborn as a mule for a second and took her hand away and Marisol said, “I’m taking my brother and if any of you want this little arrangement to continue, I suggest you step forward and start negotiating with my man before I get back out of this house!”

  She muttered something to her grandmother and put the gun up, back under her jacket and went into the house.

  Abuela went white as a sheet and collapsed into the lawn chair on her porch.

  “I’m deadly serious now. Y’all stand together and she goes or we go and we take these meds with us.”

  “We need those pills, mister. We’ll die without them.” I looked over to where the doctor was standing but it wasn’t him that had spoken. It was a young man, around Marisol’s age.

  “Well, alright then,” I said. “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Julio. Julio Sanchez.”

  I nodded slowly and said, “Get on over here, Julio, and let’s parlay.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s make a deal,” I stated.

  He nodded and jerked his head at the clinic doctor who nodded and ghosted up after him.

  “Nothing has to change here,” I said quietly, for their ears only. “Same usual rate…”

  I listed off prices for each thing and the doctor and the boy frowned and looked at each other. I lowered the prices, just a bit from what we’d been charging before, just enough to make a noticeable difference and listened as Julio and the doctor had an exchange. By the dour look on the doctor’s face, I think my hunch played out right. My play had been designed to make it look like Abuela had been skimming. If she had been aboveboard, it would have been a light skim, but if not? It looked like the fat old broad was as rotten to the core as I thought she might be, and these people now had a personal beef with her.

  “Problem, boys?” I demanded when their rapid fire back and forth in Spanish had gone on for too long.

  The doctor looked uncomfortable and Julio leaped in, a little inept and declared, “No, the usual rate is fine! Just fine!”

  “I got no interest in raising prices on y’all, I just want her out of power.”

  Julio glanced up in Abuela’s direction and his mouth thinned down into a grim line. He nodded and called up to Abuela in Spanish. She gripped her cane which she had planted between her feet and raised her chin, turning her face away, refusing to look at him. People in the crowd shifted and muttered uneasily.

  “Might want to hand over the cash,” I called and Julio marched right up to her and more Spanish was exchanged with her little toadies behind her who reluctantly handed over the envelope to Julio.

  He opened it up and counted it, his expression hard and going harder just as Marisol came out the front door with her little brother, a suitcase in her hand and his thin shoulders dwarfed by an overstuffed backpack.

  “Abuela!” he cried happily and he and his grandmother had a sweet moment. All hugs and a few tears out of the old woman, but to her credit, where none was really due, she let her grandson go. He took Marisol’s hand and they descended the steps, the little boy oblivious to the drama playing out around him.

  Julio stayed up on the porch, counting the money and raising an eyebrow. He murmured something to Marisol and she nodded and he slipped the cash back in and came down.

  “It’s short,” he said, handing it over. “Only by a little.”

  I counted it out, and it was short alright – only by the amount I’d bumped it to make it look like the old broad was skimming. By the look on Julio’s face, a combination of anger and worry, I’d say Abuela was gonna have a heart attack or something tonight at the hands of her own people.

  “I think it’s been a stressful enough time for all involved, don’t you think?”

  Julio looked at me and nodded.

  “I’m not an unkind man, Julio. Let’s just call this here the new normal, shall we? Not having to deal with her dank ass more than makes up the difference.”

  The doctor and Julio exchanged a look and both nodded.

  “Fen! Squatch! Get these people the medicine they need,” I called out.

  The doctor went forward and so did a few of the villagers, eager to unload.

  Julio looked back at Marisol who was helping her little brother into the back seat of the 4Runner. He gave her a nod and she gave him a grave look and a nod back. I raised an eyebrow at that. Seems I may have underestimated my girl. Maybe this had been a part of her end game all along. She and Julio maybe had some kind of a bargain of their own.

  Whatever it was, it was a conversation for another time and by my estimation, it felt right. No harm was coming to these people. By all accounting, they’d be coming out better for this in the offing and I think we were all good with that.

  I twisted around on the seat of my bike and asked my girl, “You set?” She stood behind the open driver’s side door of the SUV, fire in her eyes, and simply gave me a silent, solitary nod in my direction.

  “What about you, boys?” I asked as the doctor and another dude rolled their collapsible wagon of meds off in a direction to take full stock and put them away.

  “All good,” Squatch declared.

  “Until next time,” I said and gave Julio a respectful nod which he returned. I glanced up at Abuela who sat unperturbed on her throne, a few of the men and women from the village drifting up to her porch and I put my middle finger to my forehead and gave the bitch a literal one-fingered salute.

  Her expression grew stormy, but she didn’t do or say shit. She’d been as thoroughly shut down from the word go as she could have been and the bitch deserved it. If she caused problems again – which given the muttering and shifting among her own people, didn’t seem likely – I would disappear her fat ass just like I disappeared her pedophile son.

  I still harbored a bitter contempt for the rest of these fuckin’ people who knew and did nothing, as long as they kept getting their own, Marisol had been an acceptable sacrifice and I fuckin’ hated that. We rode out, and I was glad I wouldn’t have to see any of their faces for another month. It might give me the chance to cool down some, although it was just a matter of time. I would get mine from them and then they’d be the new Eastern Washington chapter’s problem.

  I split off from the rest of the boys at their urging when we stopped for some food. Their insistence I escort my lady and her brother home one I was secretly grateful for. I still felt some guilt for it, though. I wasn’t one to cut and run. I was the guy that always saw everything through to the bitter end. I guess, this time, priorities…

  I certainly had a new set and that was a little awkward, at least for now, to begin with. Still, I was happy to make my little zaychik my new normal, and all that came along with that.

  Her little brother was zany, funny, and exuberant. He put a smile on my girl’s face and the same love that radiated from her honey-gold eyes in his direction was one I recognized. She looked at me the same way, and even thou
gh she hadn’t had the occasion to say it yet, I knew, and that was honestly enough for me.

  It was late when we got home. Past Mateo’s bedtime but the kid was excited. His excitement only went up a notch when he got a load of his new bedroom. It wasn’t much by my standards. Ikea furniture, cheap but well put together by Marisol herself. Well, she’d had a little help from me with the dresser. Still, it was all done up in his favorite soccer team’s colors and Marisol had gotten posters of his favorite players on the pitch doing their thing from some Mexican grocery nearby and had framed them up nice.

  He loved it, of course, but it took some time with his sister to calm his little ass down. She handled him like a pro, and I’d never really put a mind toward being a father before, but she had me rethinking the vasectomy I’d had. I guess, if she ever wanted, IVF was an option. I could get that shit extracted with a needle or something – not that the thought was all that appealing.

  Still, she made me believe in myself that maybe the whole fatherhood thing could be possible for me. If anyone could keep me from being my father, I believed it could be her.

  “Hey,” she said softly from the bedroom doorway, shutting the door softly behind her. I turned from where I was getting ready for bed, toweling off my head from the shower I’d taken.

  She came to me and wound her arms loosely around my waist. I tossed the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner, half making it. She looked up at me, those eyes of hers captivating in the low light from the bedside lamp.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured.

  “You sure you wanna start this?” I asked, glancing meaningfully at the bedroom door.

  “He sleeps like the dead and I’m not going to stop living my life simply because he’s here,” she said. “I can be quiet.”

  “Mm.” I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her softly. Her hands drifted from my hips to my face, cupping my stubbled cheeks gently as she kissed me, her body drawing closer to fit in the circle of my arms, her hands slipping around to the back of my head, nails scratching lightly against my scalp sending tingles down my spine.

  I moaned softly into her luxurious mouth and felt her lips curl into a smile against my own.

  God, she was such sweet perfection one minute and a guilty pleasure of my deepest, darkest fantasies the next. Tonight felt light and sweet, though, and I took my time undressing her, slipping her blouse over her head, cupping her perfect tits, kissing my way down her chest to suck lightly at her dusky nipples until she moaned all breathy, the sound of her being all hot and bothered like music to my ears.

  “Oh, God, Mav…” her voice was breathy and throaty all at once as she tipped her head back, holding mine to her breast as I worked her tit with lips, teeth, and tongue, lavishing her beautiful breasts with attention.

  I pulled back, letting her nipple pop from my mouth and queried, “Yes, my queen?”

  “Mm, make love to me?” she asked, looking down into my eyes.

  “Thought you’d never ask,” I growled and picked her up. Her legs twined around my hips, too much material between my throbbing dick and her sweet sensual pussy.

  I laid her down on the bed and went for the easiest clothing first, slipping my pajama pants down off my hips and freeing my erection. Her hot little hand wrapping around its length and stroking me, an erotic tease, a promise of pleasure, and I couldn’t wait to be inside her, but she’d asked me to make love to her, and making love bespoke of something slower, gentler, and yet still deeply passionate.

  I undid the button on her little denim shorts and lowered the little zipper, slipping the offending garment out of my way down her long legs and dropping them carelessly to my bedroom floor. The only thing remaining between us, her scrap of a white lace thong.

  I kissed her then, my arms around her, hand pressed flat and splayed open against the warm, smooth skin of her back, drawing her up tight against my body as I dry humped between her legs, reveling in the sensation of rough lace, damp with her sweetness against the head of my cock.

  The light fragrance of her desire perfumed the air, driving me wild and I had to hold myself in check. I wanted so badly to fist that scrap of material in my hand and jerk it from her body. I wanted to plunge inside of her in one sure, deep, even stroke and I wanted to pound that sweet ass into my mattress, but that’s not what she’d asked for.

  Instead, I did as she asked, dragging her to the end of the bed, slipping that final barrier off her body, and kneeling between her knees, I put my hand against her sweet cunt, massaging her, gazing up the golden length of her body into those deep brown eyes tinged with golden honey, watching the color shrink as her pupils grew larger with her want of me.

  “Maverick, yes, please,” she begged and I kneeled up, laying over the top of her lower body, kissing my way down in worship until I could almost taste her, my mouth watering in anticipation, my cock hard to the point of sweet pain.

  God, I wanted her. I wanted her and no one else. This woman filled every one of my senses, put my mind on overload with feelings I’d only ever heard of but was quite sure I’d never felt them myself before and Jesus, fuck, did I want to. I wanted everything with her in this moment. My whole damn life flashed before my eyes as I laid my tongue against her clit and teased, and not my past but my future life, with her.

  I could see it all. Wedding bells and wild rides, making love to her under the stars on the coast, attending Mateo’s graduation, and family dinners with the club.

  I could see it all, I wanted it all, and it all started right here.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Marisol…

  The look in his deep blue eyes as he went down on me was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I’d asked him to make love to me, desperately wanted to know what that was even like, and I got my answer with that one look as he played his velvet tongue against my clit, in sharp contrast with the rough stubble around his lips.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned as I closed my eyes and let my head fall back in surrender to this man who cradled me so gently in his hands.

  He teased me so cruelly but lovingly, his mouth soft, his touch gentle, but also so, so, maddening. I needed him inside me. His cock, his fingers, it didn’t matter. I felt so empty and so ravenous, all I wanted was that one touch inside that would touch off the firestorm of sensation that I so deeply craved.

  He spent such a long time building me up that I thought I would die from the lack of that one, crucial touch, and I found myself gripping the sheets at my hips which writhed up and down of their own volition.

  He played me expertly, like a virtuoso, slipping a finger or two inside of me – I couldn’t honestly tell, I was so wet for him, so painfully aroused, it was exquisite. All of it good as he tortured me beautifully into a slow spiraling lift, riding the thermals of his love higher and higher until I could touch the very stars in the sky.

  He brought me so close to the sun I thought I would burn, but I was ever safe, in his bed, wrapped in his arms, the starbursts of light clearing my vision from that first orgasm to him sitting up and wiping his mouth, the vision of him thick and hard, the length of him turgid and resting against his stomach, a pearly drop of precum at his crown setting me ablaze with desire all over again.

  I struggled to scoot up on the bed to give him enough room to fully get on it and he did, crawling up after me, cock bobbing thickly between his thighs and oh, God, how I wanted him. My pussy gave a long, fractured ache, complaining that it wasn’t fulfilled and I felt absolutely insatiable. I needed him on me, I needed him inside of me, and I reached for him.

  He smiled and came to me willingly and my heart sighed with happiness. I lay back and he dwarfed me, the warmth of his body settling over mine, the head of his dick nudging my pussy lips apart.

  I arched as he slipped inside of me, and he took his time, filling me up so slowly, I very nearly wept with a mixture of joy and frustration.

  “Mm, easy baby, just like that,” he crooned as he seated himself inside me as deeply as
he could go. He brought his lips to mine and we kissed as he barely moved inside of me, touching off a whole new set of amazing sensations.

  He brushed my hair away from my face and looked me in the eyes, the intimacy of the moment unparallel in any existence.

  “I love you, baby,” he whispered and the huskiness of his voice, the gentleness of his tone, it was the sweetest most decadent sound I’d ever heard. The gentle, short, barely there strokes he made inside of me sent pleasure rippling out from my core making my eyes prickle with tears at how sweet and how perfect. He placed his lips against mine and I touched the side of his face, held him to me, and loved him back so fiercely in that moment, gasping out when the kiss was broken, “I love you, too.”

  And I did. From now until forever. How could I not?

  Still, there was this low-key worry inside of me, deep down asking, would it be enough?

  I guess only time would tell…

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Summer’s End

  Marisol…

  “Mateo! Be careful!” I cautioned and gave my little brother the hairy eyeball. He grinned impishly at me and kicked his soccer ball across the beach’s sand at Tic-Tac who yelled back at me, “Come on! Let the kid be a kid! You’re always up his ass!”

  I scowled at him and that worry that I would never fully belong or make amends with these guys over interrupting their church meeting that one time returned. Most of the men had gotten over it relatively easy, a few had held out a bit longer but then, there was Tic-Tac… He seemed like he was willing to hold a grudge eternally.

  “He’ll come around, don’t worry!” Little Bird said cheerfully and I heaved a big sigh.

  “Who’ll come around?” Dahlia asked, dropping into the empty lounge chair between me and Little Bird.

  “Tic-Tac,” Little Bird said, sweeping her long brown hair over her shoulder, exposing her back to the sun beating down.

 

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