Our tongues are dueling again. He tastes so good I could get drunk on him. My head is so foggy and the world’s spinning—it’s a delicious sort of madness.
Wrapping my legs around his hips, I wiggle, trying to grind out the throbbing friction building between my thighs.
“Pants,” I pant, not sure I’m making much sense.
But he must understand because his fingers are on my zipper and then my jeans are gone.
Wrapping my arms around his back, I lean up and kiss as much of his chest as I can, whispering beneath my breath that I adore him. Need him. Love him.
But I don’t think he hears; he’s lost in the heat and so am I.
“Lili, I need to feel you.” He nudges me with his thickness and I bite my knuckle.
I’m ready, more than ready. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.
I nod.
Reaching over, he grabs his wallet that’d somehow wound up on the floor and pulls out a golden foil. Tearing into it with his teeth, he looks at me again. “I’m not a saint, but if you need to stop now… I will.”
I can tell by the sound of his strained voice just how hard the thought of that is for him.
Spilling all my truth into my eyes I let him see everything I’m feeling and hope he hears the sincerity of my answer as I say, “Please.”
When he shoves his briefs down, his shaft springs out. It’s bigger than I’d expected it to be. I lick my lips as a nervous tension zips down my spine. It’s been years since I’ve done this. Not that I don’t know how, but he’s a lot bigger than Javi’s dad had been.
An unnatural stillness fills the car as he methodically rolls the condom on, and I’m twitchy, on fire. So unbelievably ready. I want this man, want him with all my heart. At fourteen I thought I’d been ready, and I’ll never regret Javi, but that was nothing compared to what I’m feeling at this moment.
Like the world and everything in it has hit the pause button, except for Ryan and me. Because there is no one else in my head or my heart right now. It’s just him and me.
Then he gazes at me again and there’s an animal inside his eyes. Something wild and fierce looking at me with so much love I know nothing will ever compare to this moment. My first time with him.
This is my man.
My world.
And I want him.
I open my arms.
After tugging my panties down around my knees, he slides between my thighs and for a moment just lays there. I want to move, to start this thing, but there’s something unbelievably erotic about lying naked, pressed up to the man you love.
He’s heavy, but not too heavy. Like we’re two pieces of a puzzle, interlocking together so perfectly I know God made him just for me.
Then he starts to move again, nuzzling my left breast. Heat ripples like a slow tide in my stomach. Moaning, I wiggle, rubbing against his hardness.
“Lili, Lili,” he mumbles, then pops my nipple into his mouth as he slowly slides in.
He’s big and stretching me, filling me up, but it’s not uncomfortable, and it only takes me a second to find the perfect rhythm, to match his steady undulations. Wild, I hook my nails into his back and slide them down. He hisses but doesn’t seem to mind, just increases his tempo.
I love him.
Love this man with scars so deep they terrify me.
I’ll do anything to save him.
I know that now.
And when he whispers my name again, I know in that instant he’s ruined me for anyone else. Because this is love.
And it’s beautiful.
***
Ryan
By a miracle we arrived at the gym with ten minutes to spare, but my body won’t stop trembling. The instant I’d stepped from the car, I was sure my knees were going to give out.
She was so responsive, murmuring words I couldn’t make sense of. And I hoped somewhere in there she told me she loved me back. But even if she didn’t, I felt it in every touch, every whisper of breath against my flushed skin.
The minx had drawn blood too; twin welts run the length of my back. I hadn’t known what to expect with Lili, but it was better than any dream, any desire I could have imagined.
Leaning my head on the cold locker, I take deep breaths. I have to forget. For now. If I go into the ring all dizzied up like some fucking virgin who’s just had her cherry popped, it’ll be a feeding frenzy.
But I’m not sure how to forget something like this.
I’ve had so much sex with so many different women I can’t even remember half their faces. But this hadn’t been sex.
It’d been infinitely more.
It’d been prayer, worship, and it’d left an indelible mark on my soul.
Her skin all dusky and burnished, cheeks flushed, hair plastered to her face with sweat—I wish I could paint, wish there were some way to get the moment back and experience it every day for the rest of my life.
Blowing out a deep breath, I toss my sweater into the locker, kick off my sneakers, and shrug out of my pants. I reach into my bag for my shorts and am just slipping them on when a guy enters.
I haven’t seen him around before. Dark complexioned with the kind of swarthy good looks that most women seem to find irritatingly irresistible. He immediately pisses me off. I slam my locker shut.
Second he sees me, a leering grin tips the corners of his mouth. “Hey, man,” he says, voice slick as an oil stain as he holds out a hand.
Lip curling, I turn and grab the white wraps out of my bag.
Laughing, a cocky sound that grates like nails on a chalkboard, he shrugs. “Hey, whatever. Name’s Olivio. I’m your sparring partner tonight.”
“Where’s Noah? He’s my partner.” I start wrapping the tape around my hands, tight, flexing so hard they start to tingle from blood loss.
“Sick. Anyway…” Olive Oil opens his locker. “You see that hot piece of ass sitting outside?”
Molars grinding, I punch my fist against my palm.
Little black eyes narrow into thin slits. “That yours?”
Nostril’s flaring, I whip my head up.
Olive Oil licks his lips. “You tap that yet? ’Cause I don’t do sloppy seconds.”
“Fuck you!” I jerk to my feet, slamming him hard into the lockers as a blinding haze of red obscures my vision. “You just wait till I get you in the ring, motherfucker.”
He doesn’t even flinch, just shrugs my hands off. “White boy, you don’t know how to handle that puta.”
Cracking my fist into the locker next to him, I shove my face right into his. Fury, hate, those are emotions I understand. My old friends, and they are going to take his head off tonight.
I waited all night for the spar and Olive Oil knew it too, because the second we broke off the mats and headed to the ring, he jerked his fingers at me.
I’m going to make him pay.
I know she’s watching me, know she senses the discord… That’s why I won’t look at her.
I feint, he blocks, twisting and twirling around me, trying to make me dizzy with his pretty moves.
But I don’t take the bait.
I wait and I watch.
Never showing him what I have until I spot the slip.
The moment he thinks he has me, the moment he forgets there’s a predator in the ring. He drops his guard and I run right at him.
Dropping my shoulders, I make like I’m going for a takedown, but at the last second I come up with a left hook, blasting it into his temple.
He drops like a rock.
But it isn’t enough.
I’m on him, pounding my fist into his face.
Over and over.
There are voices, but I can’t understand them. I’m wrapped in obsession, one thought hammering through my skull.
No more.
Never again.
I see his face.
Not Olive Oil’s.
But my uncle’s, and the sickness burns hot in my gut.
Olive’s teeth tear thro
ugh my knuckles as I connect with his jaw.
Arms tug at me, push at my shoulders.
Finally the voices are penetrating, cutting through the fog.
“Fuck, man!” Gene, my trainer, slaps my face, finally getting me off Olive Oil, forcing me to stagger back to the ropes. “You trying to kill him? He’s down. Down means down. Shit!”
Blinking, I shake my head.
Olivio is bloody and swollen. His face unrecognizable as the guy who’d entered the locker room with me earlier. He’s breathing, but it’s nasally and sounds wrong.
What the hell have I done?
I feel her look. A hot, weighted press against me and I want to die.
What is she thinking?
What has she seen?
A monster?
A beast?
Something ugly and vile and terrifying?
Then her flowers are there and she’s wrapping me in a hug, pressing a kiss to my brow even as her body trembles violently.
Chapter Nineteen
Liliana
I can’t stop thinking about it.
In that moment, I didn’t recognize Ryan. He was a stranger. A violent, horrible one.
The tears started and they haven’t stopped for hours.
He’d driven me home in silence and I hadn’t asked.
Too afraid to know.
It’s Friday night and I’m sitting in my living room. Javi’s kneeling on the floor by my feet, and Mama’s already asleep.
Ade’s gone for the night. Even though she’s Mama’s live-in nurse, the understanding is when I’m around she gets to go home and take time with her family.
I have no one to talk to and desperately—as sick as it is—miss Ryan.
But I need to think.
I know I love him.
That’s obvious.
I didn’t give myself to him because I feel sorry for him.
Javi turns a page in his book, and the sound feels horribly loud. I look at my child, studying his sweet, innocent face. It’s not just me in this equation anymore. There are so many things to consider.
Ryan has never been anything but good to Javi and to me, but what he did to that guy… It was brutal.
I called Alex this morning to see how Ryan was.
Ryan was fine, he’d said, but the guy—Olivio—had sustained several hairline fractures and a nasty concussion.
I know fighting is a blood sport and I’m cool with that—for the most part.
But Ryan had gone into a kind of trance that went beyond the ring. Pounding Olivio had been incidental; Olivio wasn’t the one he was fighting.
I huff a hank of hair out of my eye and change the channel. There’s a commercial on—a man and woman gazing into each other’s eyes, out on a date, and my heart twists so hard it’s painful. I miss those days with Ryan, sometimes it feels like it happened lifetime’s ago, rather than just a few months. More often than not, I feel like I’m dating a stranger and I don’t like it.
I look at Javi again. He’d been at the window today, nose pressed to it, fingers splayed, as if looking for someone. He’s getting attached to Ryan.
I know that’s who he was looking for.
I wish I could talk to my son. Talk to anybody.
This is one of the few times that I even miss my father. He’d know. I’d get all the answers from him.
What does it mean, Daddy, when a man does that? What does it mean? Is he a lost cause? Can I really save him? Or am I just wishing for an impossible dream?
***
Ryan
I’m not going to let this happen again.
Not after Thursday night.
We made love and I told her I loved her.
Rolling over on my bed, I stare up at the popcorn ceiling, entranced by the slow-turning fan paddles.
I’d meant it and then proceeded to fuck up.
Like always.
Why had I allowed myself to get goaded that way?
Olive Oil was just a dick who thought himself God’s gift to women—who the hell cared? And if I’d had any sense, I wouldn’t have. I’d have let his stupid shit roll off my back and gone home proud, knowing Lili had picked me.
Instead she’d seen the monster, the evil I try so hard to bury in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind, and she hasn’t called.
I can’t blame her.
The burden of apology is all on my shoulders. I’m scared she won’t take me back, that this time I went too far. But I have to try.
Picking up my cell, I debate whether to call now or wait until the morning. It’s almost eleven. She might already be asleep. But if she’s feeling at all like I am, waiting isn’t the answer.
I dial.
And wait.
And hold my breath.
“Ryan?”
“Lili, I’m… God.” I shove fingers through my hair. “Lili.” My voice cracks as the awful knowledge that she might very well want to walk away chisels its way into my heart.
“Can you come here?”
Whatever happens, whatever she says to me, I’ll do it, I’ll man up. Even if this means she’s asking me over to end it for real this time.
“Yeah.” I try to keep the panic from my voice. “Be there soon.”
Tossing on whatever clothes I can find, I walk out my room. Alex is sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. He has a paper due tomorrow morning. Looking up at me bleary eyed, he lifts a brow.
“Wassup, dude?”
Tucking my undershirt into my jeans, I shrug on a sweater and finger comb my hair. “Headed over to Lili’s.”
Alex’s lips are grim. “Yeah. Okay. Take the house key; I’ll be locking up after you leave.”
For once in his life he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to caution me to be smart and not act like a dipshit. I think he knows what I do.
This might be it.
A man headed to the gallows.
I’m at her place in no time, kind of walking through a trance. Going to her door, I quietly knock.
She opens it and I can’t help smiling. She’s dressed in the same Juicy pants and tank top she wore the day she threw herself into me for the kiss that made my heart clench. I miss the early days of our relationship; everything had been so uncomplicated and easy. Now I felt like all we did was walk on eggshells around each other.
The house is still. A patchwork-quilt blanket lies on the sofa and the TV’s on. I was right, she hadn’t been sleeping.
“Want to sit?” She points at the couch.
Walking over to it, she tucks one leg underneath her butt and sits, patting the seat next to her. I sit, but I don’t know what to do with my hands, how to act, so I keep them in my lap. For a while we stare at the screen, my pulse thundering in my veins. I keep waiting for it. For the deep breath, the look, and then the words: We’re done.
“What happened?” Her soft voice makes me turn.
Closing my eyes, I take a second to gather my thoughts. “He was talking shit about you.”
“What? Me?” She pats her chest, brows pinched with confusion.
Wiping my palms down my pants, I lean back. “Lili, I snapped. The things he said. It was so fucking ugly and he was saying it about you. I couldn’t…”
“That’s what triggered that?”
I narrow an eye, stomach going cold because I know what she’s thinking. Liliana’s smart, it’s only a matter of time before she figures out what’d happened to me. Maybe not all the particulars, but if I don’t get my shit together—and soon—she’ll know.
“What else?” I frown, pretending like I don’t have a clue what she’s getting at.
Because I can’t let her know. Ever.
Her closed-off body language slowly opens, and turning more toward me, she slides her hands down her arms, dropping them into her lap. Hope blooms like a seed in my soul.
“You scared me, Ryan.”
Daring to touch her, I grab her hand, needing the contact and praying she won’t pull back.
She w
raps her fingers through mine, and I can finally think again. Can breathe through the panic that’d encased my heart in ice the whole drive up here.
“I’m sorry. Angel, I’m sorry. I went apeshit, I know that. What does puta mean?”
“What?” She wrinkles her face. “He called me that?”
Rubbing my thumb along her knuckle, I play with the soft skin. “He called you a lot of things.”
“It means bitch or whore.” She shrugs and walks her other fingers up my arm, making my skin pucker. “Maybe next time if someone calls me that though, you don’t go all loco on them. I thought you were going to kill him.”
“I can’t stand the thought of anyone saying things about you like that. Drives me fucking nuts.” I stroke her forearm.
Shivering, she scoots toward me, wrapping her leg over my lap before finally leaning her head on my chest.
“You know, Ryan, you give me a lot of good advice. Advice I don’t always want to hear. I have one for you. Stop trying to kill every Tom, Dick, and Harry that acts like an ass, because guess what?” She taps my chest. “The world’s full of them.”
“But it’s you.” My gaze roams her face. “It’s you, Lili. Not just some girl.”
Her eyes soften. “And that’s very sweet. Really. But you have to understand what seeing you do something like that does to me. It scares the crap out of me. You know what I’ve been doing yesterday and today?”
She twines her fingers through my hair. Settling deeper into the cushion, I wrap one of my big paws around her sweet ass and close my eyes. So fucking tired… I know it will be nothing to pass out right now, I didn’t slept last night.
“I was wondering what exactly I was doing with you. Why we were even together?”
I lick the inside of my lip. “And? What conclusion did you come to?”
Pulling back, she runs her finger along my jaw.
“That no one’s perfect, that maybe there was a good reason for all that. That maybe I should just leave because I could never let Javi see that. Your fighting doesn’t bother me, Ryan, it’s the secret I know you’re keeping. It’s the fear that one day you’ll snap and maybe hurt me.” Her voice quieted with the last bit.
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