Love and Chaos

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Love and Chaos Page 16

by S. M. Soto


  “Please get inside me,” I whimper as he dances his tongue along my neck. Licking up and pulling my earlobe into his mouth.

  He pauses. “Out here?”

  My core spasms at the thought. I was so caught up in him, I forgot we were out here, but now that we are…it doesn’t seem so unappealing either. It’s not like we haven’t done it before. And where we are, inside the maze, with nothing but tallgreen hedges, wisteria vines and twinkling lights surrounding us, we’re not going to find a more secluded space.

  I trap my bottom lip between my teeth and nod my head slowly, wanting to be different. To be thrilling. I want him to take me right here.

  He must like that idea because he dives into me, taking my mouth in a breath-stealing kiss. I let out a groan of approval as his hand slides under my top to fondle with my breasts. His warm fingers pinch my nipples. My core floods with heat, my heart burning.

  With a growl, he rips the straps of my dress down my shoulder, baring my top half to him. My bra comes off next and my breasts hang heavy. I’m well into the double D stages and Creed loves them. He leans forward and feasts on my breasts. Smothering his face between them. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks. The effect is like a zap to my core that shoots straight to my clit, and I moan.

  Lifting me with effortless ease into his arms, he guides us to the bench where he sits me in his lap. I wrap my legs around him, straddling him as he toys with my breasts. Each flick and suck of his warm tongue has me feeling like I’m going to combust at any given second.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” I whisper over and over, tossing my head back as he swirls his tongue then nibbles with his teeth. The bite of pain tugs at my core, prompting me to dig the pads of my fingers into his shoulders, urging him on. His ministrations alone almost have me coming. Creed moves to my other breast and lavishes the same attention while fondling the other. He sucks on me and suddenly pauses.

  “That’s new.”

  The grittiness in his voice has my eyes springing open.

  “What is—”

  I start to ask but cut off when I realize one of my breasts is leaking with a clear-ish substance. Heat rises to my cheeks when I realize what it is.

  “Oh god. This is so embarrassing.”

  I toss my head back to avoid his eyes and cover my face with my palms. He just got a good mouthful of my breast milk, can this get any worse? I know it’s not technically breastmilk yet, more like colostrum, but that doesn’t change that fact that Creed got it in his mouth.

  Creed laughs at my reaction, clearly enjoying my misery. The sound is husky. He pulls my hands away and plants a kiss on my lips.

  “Stop it.”

  “I feel like I should go hide under a rock.”

  He shakes his head, chuckling some more. “I’ve seen and done a lot worse, Sophia. I love every part of you, even this. Want to know what else?”

  “What?” My voice is small as I ask.

  He leans in, pressing his lips against my ear, sending a chill down my spine. “You taste good, baby. Even here.”

  To drive his point home, he swirls his thumb around my damp nipple, and my hips flex into his hardness.

  God, everything feels so heavy.

  And why does the thought of his mouth right there again make me feel like I’m going to combust?

  As if sensing where my thoughts are, Creed trails his mouth down again and takes my nipple into his mouth again, of their own accord my hips twist in little circles on his lap. I rub against his hardness, enjoying the delicious friction, but really, I just need him inside me.

  “Come here.” With a growl, Creed pulls my panties to the side as I help him free himself, and in no time at all, he buries himself inside of me, and I groan. I sink onto his thick length, my breasts pressed against his face, and I ride him, gliding my wetness up and down his cock, enjoying the noises of nature and our lovemaking. I twist my hips, circling them on his cock. My breath hitches each time he bottoms out. He’s so deep, I feel him everywhere. It makes it hard to catch my breath.

  Creed takes my lips with his, using one hand to hold me behind my neck and the other at my hip, he drives into me from the bottom, settling his cock deep each time, hitting that spot that makes me see stars. In no time at all, I’m climaxing, clutching onto him and trying to hold in my moans to keep the guards on the grounds from hearing.

  Finally, he helps me clean up using the cloth in his suit pocket, wiping between my legs. He helps me stand and we make our way back through the maze, hand in hand, back into the garden. It would never cease to amaze me, looking at everything Valentina planted by hand. Creed said Matteo hired a gardener after she passed so he could attend to the plants and make sure they didn’t die. It was like even though she’s no longer here, she lived on through these flowers in her garden. Once we reach the rose beds a smile tips the corners of my lips. I lean forward and smell the reds.

  “Here,” Creed says from behind me, prompting me to turn around and find him with his hand stretched out. In his hand is a vibrant, red rose. My smile widens and I reach for the rose but pause when I notice something else.

  “Creed?” My eyes dart up to his, but there’s a smile on his face. It’s that boyish smile I don’t see very often.

  “Go on,” he urges.

  I swallow thickly and do as I’m told.

  I take the flower with trembling hands and suck in a sharp breath when I see a red and gold box with Cartier written on it, nestled inside the rose. I don’t know where he found this rose, it’s huge, not like your average red rose, it’s bigger, the petals, the beauty of it, it’s completely gorgeous.

  I dart my gaze up to Creed’s one last time before flipping the lid of the box open. Tears spring to my eyes, and I shakily cover my mouth with one hand, shock rendering me speechless.

  Inside the box is the most exquisite engagement ring I’ve ever seen. In a white gold setting rests an emerald cut diamond and two smaller cut baguette diamonds on each side. The diamond is dazzling as it glitters in the setting sun.

  “Marry me.”

  At the sound of his voice, I seek him out, and my breath catches when I find him down on one knee before me, looking up at me. This man…this man is not one I’d ever expect to get on his knees for anyone, and here he is for me.

  I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, my heart doing its best to pound out of my chest cavity. That’s what being near this man does to me. All the time. It was something I’d have to get used to. Because I knew this feeling, the one I got whenever I was near Creed, the reaction my body and heart has to him…it’s never going away. And I don’t want it to. He’s my favorite prince. My favorite fairytale. He’s my dark knight in shining armor. A mafia prince I’ll love until the end of time.

  “You sure about this?”

  His face splits into a grin and he pushes to his full height, reaching out to me, settling one hand on my stomach and the other he places beneath my chin, his fingers holding me there.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I want this. All of it.” He reiterates, his hand circling my stomach. My chest heaves and fills with warmth at his answer.

  This man…this man is beyond words sometimes. No matter what happens, what trials we run into, I want to love this man with all my heart, until the end of time. So I do the only thing I can think to do—the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do.

  “Yes,” I whisper with the biggest, cheesiest smile. Seeming to like that answer, he slips the ring onto my finger, and I feel the shift in our relationship, in the air, like this is an earth-shattering, monumental moment. It’s so utterly perfect, out here in the garden with his mother’s creations. Next to roses that would always be ours. Whether they were white, black or red, they were us—ours.

  Creed scoops me in his arms, careful for my bump, and kisses me like a man starved. His mouth presses against mine and it’s like a whisper of a promise. A pact. It’s the start of something completely beautiful.

  With his engage
ment ring resting perfectly on my finger and his mouth on mine, our baby gives a sharp kick that I’m sure Creed feels, and we do the only thing we can in that moment.

  We laugh.

  I FINISH PACKING THE LAST of my things, mainly extra pairs of clothes to use while traveling until I get back home. Everything else is staying. My gaze is constantly straying to the door that I purposely left wide open. Hoping to see him. Hoping he’d come in. But we haven’t talked in days and really, I only have myself to blame for that.

  If he doesn’t stop by, it’s not likely I’ll see him again, or any of the other guys before they leave. By the time he gets back from whatever shady business he’s up to, I’ll already be gone. Part of me is relieved and the other, not so much.

  Jose became someone I considered a friend those first few weeks here. Someone that I felt like I connected with on a kindred level. Maybe it was because of where we came from, what our families were into. Or maybe it was something more.

  But that was my issue.

  That may be.

  I didn’t want to have doubts after what has happened between us, but I do have them.

  I don’t know how to process any of it. This shitty scenario I seem to find myself in. With these men and the life of the criminals surrounding us.

  What was worse? My best friend was caught in the middle of all of it.

  Am I supposed to stay by her side and wait it out with her, or am I supposed to move on with my life like nothing ever happened? I didn’t think it was possible to feel any lower than I already do, but after I found out about my mother’s illness? The woman who worked two jobs to keep food on the table. Who struggled for years on welfare because our dad was in prison. A generous woman who had such a big heart, she always put everyone else’s needs before hers; forgetting to take care of herself. The stress of me being gone, it hasn’t helped. Not at all.

  She was worrying herself into an early grave because of me.

  I can’t keep doing this to her or the rest of my family. Even if I am scared to go back—of somehow never seeing anyone I love again. That’s the biggest fear that lives inside me, worrying about being taken again. I have to at least try for my mom.

  Just as I’m zipping up the suitcase Creed had one of the maids bring me, I hear the sound of thudding footsteps. My heart races in my chest, just like it used to when I dated my first boyfriend, Fabian Saldana. I haven’t felt such an intense swell of butterflies since my first adolescent boyfriend and now, here I am, feeling it all over again for Jose.

  I feign busyness, fiddling with the suitcase. —Estrella, one of the maids here, who is also related to Magdalene, brought the suitcase earlier. She’s a sweet woman. I learned early on that she’s been working here, for the Sabella’s for years alongside Magdalene. There isn’t much left for me to do, since she already packed everything away for me. And by everything, I mean all the stuff Creed bought me, so I’d feel comfortable here. The man is an enigma. That was all I was sure of. Sophia is in for a lifetime of surprises with him.

  It’s surreal. Watching my best friend be catered to on such a level.

  We both grew up middle class. Not ever with a spoon in our mouths and here? It’s the opposite. The whole damn place is built for a queen and king. And I guess that’s exactly what they are in this world.

  How crazy is it that she found a man in such unlikely events, one who loves her with all his heart? I’ve seen the way he looks at her. Even when he knows people are looking, but it doesn’t seem to stop him. Most men would shy away. Tone it down, but he doesn’t. Creed stares at Sophia like she really is his angel. It’s beautiful and frightening. All at once. I never know what to do with it.

  Because if my best friend could find love after what she went through, maybe I wasn’t so doomed, so destined to be fucked up for the rest of my life.

  That’s what I thought. Until Jose.

  He is everything I should run away from.

  Exactly the kind of man my mother warned me about. The kind of man my father is. A man part of—or in Jose’s case, was—in the cartel.

  I wish I can say my father was a good man who didn’t deserve to be locked up, but I’d be lying. He isn’t a good man. All the severed heads, dead wives, and dead families are proof of it. Proof of everything he’s done for El Capo. He truly believed he was doing a service for his family, for his men, by following out on orders. By following out on kills in Mexico. Bringing his work to the states with him. Building tunnels all over California that lead to and from Mexico. Enough to smuggle drugs and people through.

  My father and my mother met in Sinaloa, Mexico, when they were kids on the small ranch where they lived. They fell in love and married young. My older brothers and sisters came first. Then it was the middle siblings, then me, then my little brother. My father wasn’t always that killer the prosecutor made him out to be. At one point in time, he was a great father. Just a shitty human being to everyone else who was on his list to kill.

  He used to be a guy who would take me to my soccer games. Teach us how to sing in Spanish like somehow me and my little brothers and sisters would eventually be famous. He was just a regular man with kids caught up in some shit he couldn’t get away from. There was no getting away from El Capo, no matter what you did. Where you hid. He’d find you, and when he eventually did? You’d wish you were dead.

  Which brings me back to Jose. A guy who worked for El Capo. Who is also related to him. Who grew up in that life and is essentially just like my father was. I thought I had him figured out, but then he had to go and fuck it all up by showing me he cared, showing me he had another side to him that wasn’t just a killer or cartel member. It also made me wonder how he survived, being out, of the cartel, as long as he was. Leaving the cartel is unheard of. Especially disobeying El Capo.

  Jose ran from that life and started fresh here. When you hear him talk, he doesn’t even sound like he was born and raised in Mexico. He sounds like a second generation Mexican American, the kind of Mexican whose parents traveled here, then set down roots.

  He’s extremely intelligent. Fluent in both English and Spanish. He’s funny and caring. He seems to care about everyone he crosses paths with. It makes me wonder how much time he has left. How much longer until El Capo’s men get him too?

  With all the times El Capo escaped prison in Mexico, he’s finally been indicted here in the states, to a facility in New York. The worst of the worse the newscasters say. That doesn’t mean the crime has stopped. He has a son. A whole slew of men behind him back home, willing to do his bidding for him. He’s just biding his time, waiting it out until he can find a way out of there. And when that happens, anyone who has ever crossed him is fucked.

  I’m contemplating all this as I hear his approach.

  “You all ready?” Jose asks.

  I turn toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yup. Creed set up a flight plan. He thought letting me fly private would give me a bit longer to adjust instead of being thrown to the wolves.”

  “And you’re positive you don’t need me to go with you?” he asks, growing serious. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to come. To hell with it all. That I truly don’t know if I can do it alone. But the small backbone I do have holds the reins for me. I shake my head no and he nods, keeping his expression neutral. His hair is getting long, he’s using a chongo to tie it back and hold it there.

  “Thank you, Jose. For being…you.”

  A grin spreads across his face, highlighting the boyish dimples and the hazel sparkle in his eyes. “Right back at you, preciosa.”

  “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone. Entiendes?”

  “Trouble finds me,” he smirks.

  I can’t even not laugh. “Somehow I know you’re not lying. Keep her safe, will you? She’s going to be sad while I’m gone. Promise to keep her company for me? For some insane reason, she thinks you’re funny.”

  “I’ll come prepared with an ice pack, ready for her mean right hook if I do anythi
ng to piss her off.”

  I laugh, then fall into Jose’s arms, holding onto him, inhaling his scent and trying to fight back tears. Maybe I was being an emotional wreck for no reason but something inside of me told me I wasn’t. Why did I get the feeling this would be the last time I ever saw him? I didn’t know what to do with that, how to prepare for it. Because the truth was, I’d lost so many men in my life and out of all of them, Jose was the one who mattered most. The one who would cause the most pain. I knew it like I knew the back of my hand.

  “Bye, monster,” I whisper sadly.

  “Bye, preciosa.”

  IT’S OFFICIALLY DAY THREE OF Creed and the guys being gone. The day they’re due back from whatever business they had to work on together, Alexis leaves to go back home, for who knows how long.

  I’m still not sure how I feel about that. I’m going to miss her like hell. And even though she promised she wouldn’t be gone long, and she double promised she wouldn’t miss the birth, I still worry she might change her mind.

  It’s like I get to keep her close for a few more days then I lose her when the rest of the guys come back. Why can’t they all just stay in one place? That would solve this whole dilemma.

  I’m going to miss having her around. There isn’t nearly enough estrogen on this estate and with Lex here, it made everything more bearable.

  I’m thinking about all of this as I straighten the frame on the wall. I step back, making sure it looks straight from this angle too. I survey the rest of the room once the frame is perfect. There’s a brand new pile of clothes on the rocking chair in the corner, so I walk there, picking everything up to put them away. I’ve been keeping myself busy these last few days. The nursery has long been finished, but I love coming in here and sitting, and now with Creed gone, I’ve been coming in here to kill time. To make sure everything is ready. Do I have his little baby towelettes washed? His little booties? What about his winter clothes? What if there’s a draft and he gets cold?

 

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