by Avril Ashton
“Who is that?”
“Càtia. Syren’s her dad. And Kane.”
Those men were people Levi didn’t know, never met, but Pablo trusted them with his life and that of his family. So Levi trusted them.
“Dad, I gotta go.”
“Izek, be careful.”
“I will. Love you.”
And his son was gone. This would be first time in seven years Izek had been out of Levi’s sight longer than the time it took to go to school and back. He’d trusted no one with his child, choosing to do his CPA work from home to be there for Izek. That meant he didn’t have a life, and after what he’d been through with Donovan, Levi didn’t care about that. Izek had been seven when Levi brought Donovan into their lives. Ten when everything fell apart. The kid had felt the impact of that loss intensely, because he’d loved Donovan, and Donovan had loved him.
Enough to adopt him. Dutch handed Levi the official papers one week after he’d run from Donovan. He’d made up some bullshit answer for his son whenever Izek asked about Van, until the day came when Izek stopped asking.
Which broke Levi’s heart all over again.
He’d been extra careful not to bring another man into their lives, though Izek had been aware of Pablo and the time they’d shared in Philly. That had been the last time. Every other encounter had been quick, random hookups when the urge to feel another body against his skin got too acute to ignore.
The loneliness he’d endured the past seven years felt so much like penance. His punishment for bringing Donovan Cintron into his and his son’s life, for the things he’d had to do to keep his son protected.
Dutch threatened Izek.
Mark Dulles threatened Izek.
They all wanted Levi away from Donovan. Funny thing was, Levi wanted away from Donovan.
He’d managed it for seven years.
Seven years full of cold, lonely nights and dark, desolate days.
Seven years of feeling as though a part of him, a pivotal part, had been severed.
Incomplete, the best way to describe him.
Seeing Donovan again brought back the memories of all the good times. Sure. But every single good memory was tainted with the bad, and he couldn’t separate them. Levi couldn’t ignore it. Restore them to what they used to be. To what they used to mean to each other.
It was an impossible thing.
But he wanted it. Except he couldn’t forget Donovan had been with him because that was his job. To get close to Levi, close enough to figure out if Levi was part of the Nieto Cartel. As dirty as the older brothers Levi never even knew he had. Every word had been a lie, everything Levi had ever said to Donovan in the three years they’d been together had been analyzed and dissected by Dutch and his people.
Everywhere he went. Every person he’d come in contact with had been scrutinized, investigated. Levi had been oblivious to all of it for three years.
Three. Years.
Until the day he walked into the house he’d shared with his son and his husband and found Donovan and a stranger—who turned out to be Dutch—arguing.
He got up and went out onto the balcony, standing there and staring down at the almost empty streets bathed a harsh yellow from the streetlamps. Dressed in merely a sweater and jeans, he was cold as fuck. He ignored it as he gazed outward.
He’d driven out of their driveway with a loud squeal of tires after Donovan finally told him the truth with a silent Dutch looking on. Izek had been at Gia’s, ten minutes away, and Levi had barged in to her place without knocking. He’d tried to tell her what happened.
Except the words had been too hard to speak. His tongue refused to form it, instead he’d broken down in her embrace. Arms wrapped around each other they’d cried together, because Levi had shared her, his best friend and mother of his son, he’d shared her with Van. Gia had cultivated her own relationship with the man Levi had married. They’d made themselves into a kind of family that worked for some strange reason.
Except they’d been no family. Just pawn pieces in a bigger game.
Together they’d strapped Izek into his car seat and drove, intent on getting answers. Except Gia hadn’t put on her seatbelt, and Levi hadn’t been as attentive as he should have been. Anger. Rage. All of it had blinded him, and he’d blown through a red light, hitting a guardrail before wrapping the car around a tree.
He’d been hurt.
Izek had been shaken, but fine. But Gia had gotten impaled, dying on impact.
The hours after that had been excruciating, and some things Levi still couldn’t recall. But he remembered passing out, and waking up screaming for Donovan. The man he’d married wasn’t there, just the men Levi came to know as Dutch and Sullivan Black. Dutch told him how things were going to go. They’d take Izek, charge Levi with Gia’s death unless…
He’d said no of course, when Dutch proposed Levi take Izek and disappear. Why the fuck would he do that? He’d kicked them out of his room, some medical facility hidden away somewhere nondescript. Dutch had someone bring Levi Izek, so he’d look at his son and probably change his mind. He’d vowed not to run. He had nothing to run from.
Then a man had walked in.
Mark Dulles.
Until that moment the senator had just been a face on the TV. A bigoted, egotistical face on the TV. He’d walked into the room with the power bigger than what one senator could yield. Disgust in his eyes as he looked at Levi as a nuisance, something underneath his shoe, and told him just who he was.
Father to Donovan Cintron.
He’d threatened Levi as he’d stood there, reeling from yet another shock about the man he’d married. When Dulles threatened Izek, Levi had told him to go fuck himself. That was the moment two other men with guns arrived. One took Izek. The other took Levi, with a gun at his back.
Dulles had wanted to kill Levi and Izek, but Dutch stepped in, and Levi chose to run. He’d made a deal. His son’s life, his life, in exchange for disappearing.
Dutch wanted Levi away from Donovan.
Levi wanted to be away from Donovan.
Wasn’t that difficult to say yes.
A knock on the door took him from his memories. Movement tight, heart in his throat. He walked to the door and put an eye to the peephole. Confirmation of how much he still knew Donovan Cintron. He stood there for a few seconds, trembling hand on the doorknob, forehead pressed to the door.
“Levi, open the door.”
At least he wasn’t yelling.
Levi opened. They locked eyes. Painful. A punch to the throat. Kick to the gut. A tight fist around his balls. Levi held his breath for a couple heartbeats, long enough to clock Donovan’s red-rimmed eyes. The lumberjack look he had going didn’t detract from the haggard features.
As though he’d lived.
Been through some things—none of them good or fun—in the years they’d been apart.
“Donovan. What do you want?””
He wore the clothes from the day before, a black t-shirt under a black leather jacket with jeans and the same heavy boots, looking like he needed at least twenty-four hours of sleep.
But here he was. The bushy beard covering his jaw and framing his lip was thicker. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes aged him considerably. Levi wanted to pull him close.
Push him away.
Settling on one emotion regarding Donovan was impossible, just like everything about them and their situation.
“You’re in trouble,” Donovan rasped. “I’m here until you’re not.” He pushed his way past Levi and into the condo, the unmistakable stench of weed hitting Levi’s nose.
“Really?” He slammed the door shut. “You come over here weeded and I’m supposed to rely on you to watch my back?”
Donovan spun to face him, dropping the overnight bag in his hand to the floor. “You think that prevents me from looking out for you?”
Eyes narrowed, Levi crossed his arms, facing the other man head on. “I think you’re seven years too late. I think when I
needed you the most you chose the job.”
Donovan’s jaw ticked though he didn’t speak.
“And I think you’re the reason I’m here to begin with.”
To Levi, that last statement appeared to be the blow Donovan felt the hardest. He took a step back and nodded shortly.
“Can’t argue that, can I?” He glanced around then returned his gaze to Levi. “I’m staying here,” he said firmly. “Until I know you’re safe.”
“I don’t need you here.” Levi reached behind him and grasped the doorknob, squeezing until his knuckles ached. “There are men downstairs, all over, watching out for me. You don’t have to be here.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Castillo’s men. They’re not in here.” Donovan waved a hand at the room. “And they don’t know the threat like I do.”
Pablo’s men weren’t the only ones out there, but Levi wasn’t about to share that bit of info. “What’s the threat?” he asked. “I mean, other than you.”
Donovan’s gaze sharpened. “You think I’m a threat to you?”
Levi lifted a brow. “Aren’t you?”
“What am I threatening?” Donovan came to him. No. He stalked Levi, a predatory light gleaming in the depths of his dark eyes. When they were chest to chest, Donovan spoke. “Whatever you have going with Castillo, is that what I’m threatening? His husband know about you? Does he know the real reason Castillo will go so far for you?”
“Jealous?” Levi asked softly. “You sound jealous, Donovan.”
Donovan’s hand shot out so quickly, Levi didn’t have the chance to flinch, but instead of a hard hold, that hand touched his face gently. Knuckles lightly grazed his jaw before trailing down to his neck.
“I told you not to touch me.”
“I’m going to touch you, because I need your skin. You know what to do if you want me to stop.” The challenge in his gaze made Levi want to accept, take them back to who they used to be. When Donovan pushed until Levi would put him on his knees.
Make him beg.
“And I’ve never been the jealous one,” Donovan whispered. “That’s your role, remember?” The heat in his eyes bled out, warming Levi’s face, his body. “Don’t act like you weren’t on your caveman shit, leaving your marks on me, staking your claim on me.”
Levi shook his head, fighting off those memories before they stole over him and took away his ability to fight this. “That was then.” He swallowed to repair the raw quality of his voice. “Now there’s nothing to claim.”
“There’s everything to claim. Our life together. Me.” Donovan’s fingers tightened around Levi’s neck, slightly, just enough to have his heart leaping into his throat, enough to leave him breathless. “When you’re ready.” He bent, rough beard scratching Levi’s cheek, hardening him as he whispered in Levi’s ear. “When you’re ready to stake that claim again, you know where I’ll be.” His lips touched Levi’s ear.
Fucking shivers.
“I still love the carpet burns as much as I love your teeth marks.”
“Stop.” He didn’t want to go back there, he might never return. All that anger rushing red-hot through him. All that fire, setting his bones to ash. All that need he didn’t know what to do with. “Stop.”
“Make me.” Teeth closed around his earlobe, sharp, inducing pain, inciting pleasure. “You’re the only one who could. Make me.”
Levi shivered. The fever gave him the sweats. Weakened his knees. He stuck a hand out and grasped a fistful of Donovan’s t-shirt. “No.” He couldn’t lower that shield, not here and not now. Too fucking soon, but his blood boiled any damn way. Donovan called to him, to that thing inside he hadn’t unleashed since that night seven years ago.
Donovan’s palm closed around the hand Levi had fisted in his clothes and tugged him down, dragging Levi’s touch down and lower, over the abs Levi’s used to spend hours licking, devouring. He hadn’t known the things he was capable of until Donovan. He hadn’t known how deep and fucked he could go, until Donovan. But he’d packed all that shit away.
Now Donovan wanted him to free it.
“Make me.” The purr was wet and warm on his neck, everything Donovan swamping him, blurring his vision and tripping his pulse. “Please.”
He’d begged. Levi used to love to hear him beg. Not used to. He still did. He still parted his mouth to gasp air into his lungs because it wasn’t enough anymore. Too big, this thing inside, too hot.
Too fucking heavy, and Donovan knew because with every plea at Levi’s ear, he coaxed him closer to that precipice. He knew.
“Pain or pleasure.”
Fingers pinched into Levi’s nape, and he jerked his head up, eyes wide. Donovan watched him, familiar eyes heavy and hooded. Needing eyes. Three years Levi got to see that expression on his face. Needing.
“Whatever you choose, I’ll take.”
He never had a choice before. Levi gave. Donovan took. Without a fucking question. Levi’s mouth twisted and he shoved Donovan away, a palm flat against his chest. Donovan staggered back just a couple steps.
“Levi, please.”
He’d begged like that at the end. On the floor of their bedroom, he’d begged Levi not to go. He’d had the fucking nerve after blowing their love apart.
“Please.”
That thing inside broke with a sound so loud, Levi heard the crack, and he struck out blindly. His fist landed on Donovan’s nose, blood splattering. The red filled his vision, his nostrils and he struck again. And again, and when Donovan’s knees buckled, Levi jumped on him.
Donovan fought back. Hitting back, but Levi grabbed him by the throat, fingernails digging in as he lost the battle to contain himself. Donovan bucked under him, body twisting, but Levi held on. He couldn’t see straight, didn’t even feel the punch. His mouth was moving, Donovan’s too, but he didn’t know what the fuck he was saying.
All he knew, all he felt, was consumed by the pain he’d contained so tightly for so long. Now it was free and he didn’t know if he would survive it.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The chant permeated the fog he existed in, and he blinked. Donovan’s eyes were red, his face wet with blood and tears.
“I’m sorry.”
He looked sorry. He looked fucked up, and he looked familiar then, like the man Levi used to know. The one he used to love. He also looked lost, scared, as he gazed up at Levi.
“Please.”
Levi kissed him, hard and brutal, mouth open to swallow him down. Donovan groaned into his mouth, lips parting to let him in, body going limp under Levi.
Fuck.
Levi attacked him, hands and mouth and…everything. He used everything to hurt and punish and mark. Despite the whimpers, despite the hurt he knew he was inflicting, Donovan held him tighter, pulled him closer.
That mouth. He fucked it, tongue deep. Drunk on Donovan. He tasted of blood and need, tears and apologies. He tasted foreign, but under all that, he tasted like the man Levi kissed for the very first time in the California surf. Each time their tongues stroked over each other, Donovan rocked up onto Levi, their erections pressed together. Levi jerked his hips, savage thrusts that fucked up his breathing, his mind.
Levi’s fingers at Donovan’s throat got tangled up in a thin gold chain and Levi lifted his head to inspect it. A gold ring hung there, around Van’s neck on the necklace.
His wedding ring.
Levi fisted it, yanked on it. Broke it. Van arched, cried out. Levi kissed him to shut him up. Hard, fast and wet, heads twisting, nose bumping.
It shouldn’t still be this fucking devastating. Donovan damn sure shouldn’t move like the last time Levi had fucked him, urgent and desperate. They each moaned, groaned, made those sounds you made when you were being served the way you wanted. Content and satisfied but still hmm, yes keep it coming and coming.
From the first time to the now, Donovan remained the hungriest man Levi had ever kissed. Starved, the way he opened his mouth wide, as if to swallow Levi whole
. The way his hips jerked as he humped Levi’s thigh, wanton and greedy.
Fingers scraping down Levi’s back.
Wet whimpers drifting from his throat.
And his tongue. Levi sucked on it, pulling hard. Equal parts want and anger. His lust for the man under him didn’t erase his pain. Just because he loved and relished the heat didn’t mean he forgot the flames that destroyed them
He never wanted to lose control again. He never wanted to be here again, there’d be no retreat. Not from this. He’d gotten addicted to it, Donovan under him, whimpering, needing in that openly accepting way. Unapologetically submitting to Levi, giving all control to him.
Seven years, and he knew Donovan hadn’t stayed untouched. Levi hadn’t, but he still yanked his mouth away and eased his hips up to crush Donovan’s balls in his hand.
Donovan cried out, eyes on Levi. The scratches on his neck were already showing, lips swollen, nose bloodied. Levi’s chest heaved and on some level the utter fucking craziness of all this shocked him, disgusted him.
Mostly though, he wanted to get Donovan bloody again, and not stop until his entire fucking body was covered in Levi’s scratches and bite marks.
No. “We’re not-we’re not doing this.” Donovan bucked into his hold and Levi dropped his hand away, immediately missing that weight, that control. “I’m not doing this again.” His throat felt as if he’d swallowed a blow torch.
As he watched Donovan’s throat worked, and it took the other man a while before he spoke. “Forgive me.” His voice cracked, and he lifted a shaking hand to Levi. “Punish me.”
Levi’s breath hitched and he shook his head. “Donovan—”
“We’re unfinished. I’m unfinished.” He touched Levi, just the very tips of his fingers against Levi’s belly. “Finish me.”
He wanted to, but he couldn’t. Not when he didn’t know the man under him anymore, not when he didn’t trust him, and Levi required that. Trust. He required faith. At the bare minimum, he needed to know Donovan Cintron, the real man, not the one who pretended for him all those years.
“I can’t give you what you need.” I’m sorry. But he wasn’t the one who should speak those words, so he didn’t.
