Always (Cape Hill Book 3)

by C. L. Matthews

  “Lele,” he slurs.

  I slam my eyes close. God, no. Please don’t be drunk. Unlike most people, Brax is several types of drunk. Hopefully, tonight isn’t the bitter Brax. He doesn’t hurt me or even say shit he would regret. When I say bitter, I mean he relives what Darryl did to us and questions his life decisions.

  “Lele!” he yells nearly unintelligibly.

  He better not have driven home and especially not on that new death trap of his.

  Tiptoeing out into our small living room, I fold my arms over my chest, unwavering in my stance. “What?” I growl, throwing the words like a whip. “You decide after nearly three days to come home? And drunk, no less.”

  “Aw, Lele, don’t be that way,” he groans, his voice clearer than before. “Don’t aw, Lele me, Braxton Avery Kol.”

  He stares at me, almost as if clarity rises within him, “Did you just middle name me?” His facial expression is comical. With his eyes wide and his mouth agape, he looks like a child.

  “You deserved it. You haven’t been home. You don’t text back, and you don’t call. It’s like you’re single,” I enunciate.

  His gaze connects with mine. He appears as if I’ve slapped him, and maybe that was my intention. Maybe being a bitch to him will force his hand. Maybe he’ll let me go, and this mystery bully will go away.

  As if that single word cleared his drunkenness, he stalks over to me, gripping my face with both hands. “I’m far from single, Lele,” he barks, forcing me to the wall behind us. “I’ll fucking show you since you seem to need a goddamn reminder.”

  The fierce way he looks at me has my guilt eating me up. His lips nearly take mine when I set my palm against his chest, halting his kiss.

  “I saw Sy today,” I mumble, knowing if I don’t come clean, he’ll find out.

  He takes several steps back, my words ice water to his warm body. “Why?” It’s barely a word, more of a whisper across a train, where there’s really no decipherable sound.

  “He texted me from Mamá’s phone, claiming an emergency,” I admit, not knowing if he’ll believe the truth, but I say it anyway.

  “Where’d he touch you?” Brax orders instead of asking for answers, pinching my chin with heat. His other hand grips my ass, holding me hostage to his warm body. He squeezes me, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh while glaring with dominance I’m not used to receiving from him. It’s riveting and exactly what I need from him.

  Brax has a thing for bruising me, or at least recently. It started the day I gave him myself and asked him to be mine. Now, he’s claiming me as his in any visible way.

  Brax groans against my throat then travels to my mouth, taking my lips with his. Nibbling gently, he sucks in my lip. It’s his signature move. His tenderness after aggressiveness is offsetting.

  “Tell me where he touched you, baby.” His hard demeanor is momentarily gone, and my Brax is back. He’s soft, his eyes imploring, his hands comforting and gentle.

  “I-I… h-he,” I stumble over my answer. I’m so distracted from where his hands and mouth are going that I can’t clear the fogginess his presence brings.

  “Tell me, Leia,” he urges, his lips touching my belly ring. Brax lets go of my ass to grip my pussy. “Here, baby? Did he touch you here?”

  He reaches behind me, biting my ass cheek, and I scream out. The pleasure of his soothing kisses after has me wetter than I’ve ever been with him before.

  “Y-Yes.”

  “Then I’ll give you new reasons to forget. Like me between your thighs, baby, my cock entering you, filling you up, breathing life back into you.”

  My lungs forget how to contract as I look into his green eyes. His resolve is daunting. He’s going to distract me for now, even if it doesn’t last. It’ll be a momentary reprieve, but it’ll be mine to have. He gives so much. He’s always giving.

  “Make me have better memories, Brax, ones that are given, that mean something more than a quick fuck…” I trail off, gripping his shoulders, forcing him closer. “Make me forget he took me first,” I whimper, my eyes welling with emotion while he stares unabashedly at my breasts. “Mark me with your hands, with your mouth. Mark me as yours and only yours.”

  “I will, Lele, and when I’m done, you’ll forget he ever touched what’s mine.”

  My heart rate accelerates. Brax being demanding in any way arouses me. I can hear beating in my ears as I take in oxygen with each passing second, momentarily forgetting he’s been gone doing Lord knows what. I let him be my salve once again, my secret glue to seal Sy’s damage away from me.

  His teeth connect with the tendon in my neck, digging harder than anyone ever has. I cry out, biting my lip to quiet my whimpers. The discomfort starts where his teeth connect, shooting through my body, and all the way to my toes. The bite radiates, making the flesh tender. As soon as the real pain comes, he’s licking my wound better.

  I asked for this. I wanted him to mark me, to let out his pain, anger, and my betrayal.

  He continues his brutal path with his mouth, not leaving an area bare from his torture. My skin stings and flares with heat. With the soreness comes his tongue to assuage it. He’s soothing in his brutality.

  When his teeth dig in, I scream out. When the pain subsides, this sickening euphoria takes over, overwhelming me, bringing out more wails from the pleasure I derive from it.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he growls, dragging his teeth across my breast while kneading the other roughly.

  I’ve never seen Braxton this way. Harsh. Bitter. Dangerous. Never have I felt as much anguish and fury wrapped in one experience.

  “You want me to mark you, Lele? Make you mine?” he asks derisively. “Want me to fuck you until my name is a cadence on your tongue? Tell me, Lele, is this what you expected? For me to fuck your bullshit problems away?”

  Brax grips my face, only this isn’t my Brax.

  “Am I just another cock to fill your hot cunt? Because I’m not so fucking sure what I’d ever mean to you when he’s around.”

  He bites my ear then licks it like he’s both my savior and punisher.

  “It’s always him, Lele. It’s always been him. I’m insignificant in comparison. In this world, when he’s a part of it… I’m nothing.”

  His calloused palm and fingers brush roughly against my bottom lip one last time, his skin feeling like it’s been through hell.

  “Please, Brax.” I cry, my lip wobbling with the tears building in my eyes.

  I need this. I need him. He’s my freedom, my peace, my absolution.

  He grips my hips then lifts my legs, carrying me wedding style. “Let’s go to our room, Lele. Because this place, it’s ours. He doesn’t belong here, and neither does his memory. Once I’ve acquainted your cunt with my cock and have loved you the way you should be loved, then and only then, we’ll fuck like savages.”

  And right there, when I thought my heart was left with Sy, it splits again, coming home to its other half.

  I roll over as my phone blares. A nasty hangover fogs my eyes as I try to turn it off. When I see my boss’s name, I answer. “Yeah?”

  “You’re expanding your horizons tonight.”

  “What?” I mutter, my mind not catching up.

  “I know you’re not used to working at the bar, but Pilar’s flying to New Jersey, and I can’t leave Leia alone there.” Sinthe’s voice booms into my ear. Not only is he going to wake her, he knows I got toasted last night. Fucker.

  I’ve only just woken up next to sleeping beauty five seconds ago, I’m not ready for idle chit chat. However, I’m not going to wake her up since Sinthe can’t keep his voice down. I leave the room stark naked and exhausted. Hopefully she stays asleep in the bed. I had planned staying home with her, but now, I have shit to do.

  Her mentioning that fucker before we slept together messed with me last night. It’s bad enough I beat the shit out of Chefski two days ago, and she didn’t even see my face. Unless she did and just forgot to mention it.
r />   “Okay, I’ll be there,” I agree, but he’s already talking over me.

  “She’s still so new to working shifts without Pilar, and even though most of the regulars know she’s yours, they’ll be pushy without backup—” I’m no longer paying attention to the conversation as he explains what’s required of me.

  My mind is stuck on the bruises I see in the mirror. When she sees my face for the first time, she’s going to flip. The cuts are the least of the damage. The discoloration that has only worsened since our fight will set off alarm bells. How do I explain that I beat up a Viper because he’s fucking Brady? The guy I have feelings for. Real feelings, ones that seem to only grow and flourish into something new each passing moment between us. None of it should matter since I’m not single, and she wouldn’t understand.

  Interrupting my thoughts is Venom’s voice. “—I wouldn’t ask if I had options. I trust you with her and my business.”

  “No problem,” I respond on a yawn, wiping the sleep from my eyes. But it is a big fucking problem to spend too much time with her while all these emotions flood me overwhelmingly. Goddammit to hell.

  “It’ll only be a few hours—” Venom pauses, and I hear talking in the background. “—and I expect you to respect the Den as it’s now your home too.”

  I nod as if he can see me.

  Pride wells inside me, exciting me, making me feel like I’ve finally found a place to call my own. I’m officially a Viper now, and nothing has felt more fitting. It’s where I’ve always meant to be. When Leia and I were teased as kids since we were different, maybe it all led to this. We’re with our family. We’re home.

  “And, Brax…” He pauses. “No more of that bullshit from the other day.”

  I chuckle from my side of the phone. He still hasn’t reprimanded me for hurting one of our own.

  “Baby?” Venom muses, again, stopping me short, coughing over the name I was patched with. Fucking pricks.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, grumbling under my breath.

  “Don’t pout, Baby. It’s too cute,” he jokes, trying to ruffle my feathers.

  “Oh, fuck right off,” I groan, making sure Leia isn’t near enough to hear me.

  “Aw, little Baby’s gettin’ all mad. See you tonight. Let Leia know you’re taking over for Pilar.”

  “Got it. Oh, and Venom?” I tease. “You should watch who you call cute. I might just like it.” With that, I hang up. No doubt, confusing the fuck out of my prez.

  Her eyes travel my face, and the horror I feared her having is nowhere to be seen. Does she not care? Does she have too much on her mind? I expected her to demand answers and not stop until she received them.

  “Who was that?” Leia asks instead, her voice hesitant and almost unsure. Not what I was looking for, but it will do.

  Didn’t last night prove my love though? Didn’t it reassure I’d do anything for her, that she can count on me?

  “Venom.”

  “Oh,” she says, her face scrunched with doubt.

  “Don’t do that.” I walk toward her, and she flinches a bit.

  “Do what?”

  “Not have faith in me. You don’t believe me. I can tell.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replies softly, fidgeting with each of my steps. “You’ve been gone, and I’ve worried. You’ve kind of broken it. Just like them… you left with no word.”

  I want to scream, to argue that she’s done so much worse, but I understand. Out of everyone in this world, I know abandonment well.

  “I can respect that,” I say instead of arguing. She doesn’t know what I’ve done with Brady over several occasions, which would give her more fuel to not trust me.

  She smiles a little, a small one that barely tilts at the ends of her lips. I miss that, her carefreeness, the small dimple on her cheek, and the way her smile can brighten up an entire room. It hasn’t happened in a while, and the more I think of it, the more I wonder if it’s my doing.

  “What did he want?” she asks, her smile gone once again.

  I step close to her, putting a hand under her chin, hating how she shrinks now.

  “Pilar is apparently going to New Jersey for something, and he has me taking over her shift.”

  She arches a brow, and I can’t help it. I lean in and kiss it. Her facial expressions drive most of my laughter, and a chuckle leaves me.

  “Yeah, and, babe?” I can’t help but continue to laugh. “I don’t know how to make more than a Jaeger bomb.”

  “Jesus, Braxton. Why’d you take a shift if you don’t know what you’re doing?” she muses, rolling her eyes.

  “Venom mentioned handsy men, and you know me. I like to keep what’s mine as mine alone.”

  She absently grabs the back of her neck. I wonder if she can see how I’ve painted her blue and purple with my mouth. Call it trashy, but it’s beautiful. It shows me as much as her that she has someone to claim her.

  I smirk. “Embarrassed?”

  “Never,” she squeaks, blushing in the cutest way. “I-I just know tonight will be different. Try to keep your hands to yourself, okay? My tips depend on my flirty and spirited self. If my possessive boyfriend doesn’t keep his distance, they may not tip at all.”

  With a wink, I decide to let her do her thing. “You’ve got it, but don’t complain when I get in a bar fight.”

  Her eyes widen, and she looks at me like she wants to tell me to stop but understands and accepts my desperation.

  I never stopped her from being herself, ever.

  “Don’t worry about me, babe,” I try to reassure, realizing I sound like a dick who controls everything. I’m not, I’m just protective. “Be you, freely.” She beams at me, her eyes lighting up with adoration. “Then let’s get ready. I start in a few hours.”

  “What? Why so early?”

  “We have to clean and set up for the night. Much more goes into bartending than serving drinks,” she chastises with a giggle.

  “Let’s do it after a shower?”

  “How about during?” she simpers, winking at me.

  “Oh.” I drag out the word. “You mean…”

  She giggles and runs for the shower, and like the obsessed man I am, I chase her.

  “Can I get a shot of Cuervo?” a slender blond girl shouts over the music.

  I cringe, not just from her voice but also from her mention of Jose. It’s the cheap shot women and men get to drink more of to get drunk for cheaper.

  Grabbing the bottle, I fill the shot glass, and place a slice of lime on top. She smiles at me, and hands me a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change, cutie pie.”

  Feigning niceties, I smile wider, not feeling it or the name. Still, I’ll be pleasant for future tips purposes.

  “Seems like she digs you as much as I do,” Brax teases from next to me.

  It only took him an hour or two of mistakes to learn the basics. I try to keep him doing the simple drinks like Mai Tais and Tequila Sunrises, but the girls love him. He’s our only male bartender, unless Sinthe is behind the bar, which rarely happens. His tips triple mine within the shortest time, and when he leaves for a smoking break, I take over. Fifteen minutes into Brax being gone and I’m doing fine.

  “Can I get a glass of your black label whiskey?”

  At his deep voice, the one that burns through me, I shiver. Why’s he here? I turn to him, hoping my squirming isn’t noticeable.

  His eyes appreciate me, doing a slow glide up my scantily clad body. He licks his lips, and I’m squeezing my thighs in response. “About that glass?” he says again, huskier this time. I turn away, grabbing the top shelf stuff. Smiling at the memory of how he smells when he’s had a little too much, I pour his first drink, but when I get back to him, his face is no longer nice and sweet. It’s the Sy who scares me. It’s the Sy who’s volatile in a pissing contest kind of way. His gaze rakes over my throat angrily. It takes me far too long to realize it’s the hickeys Brax left. He wasn’t kind to my skin. He wasn’t in this to be gentle or lovin
g. He wanted to leave a mark, and I somehow needed it, too.

  “Sy,” I comment, my voice too quiet to be heard. I hand him the tumbler, and before I can remove my hand, he puts his over it, gripping it tightly. He wiggles his finger at me, taunting me to come closer.

  I debate closing the gap as he leans over my bar and growls in my ear. No words escape, but that action is enough to excite me as much as it scares me.

  His hand traces sinuous swirls across my chin, his nimble fingers snaking down my throat, no doubt caressing the marks. “Meet me in the bathroom. Five minutes. Give me five minutes, mi corazoncito.”

  And I nod like the idiotic girl I am.

  After letting me go, he drinks his whiskey. I watch his throat as he swallows. A man shouldn’t be this delectable drinking a simple glass of spirits, yet he does. He’s delicious.

  Brax isn’t back by the time Sy heads for the bathroom, so I head over to Sophie to let her know I need a quick potty break. Rounding the corner of the bar, I check my phone for messages, but what I find isn’t what I expected.

  Tick, tock. Mystery person messages me.

  That’s the only incentive I need. Brax, I hope you can forgive me.

  I practically run to the men’s restroom, hoping it’s the one he wanted me to go to. And it is. He pulls me in and has me pinned against the door in seconds.

  Sy’s rough and calloused palm glides up my trachea, and his fingers grip me with precise and almost tender touches. It’s welcome. I’ve missed his power, how it washes over me while he demands every piece of my soul and body. He makes me ache in places a few months ago I didn’t know could ache. After the evil secret text I got, this control is necessary.

  Grip. Squeeze. Bite. Grip harder. Squeeze tighter. Kiss.

  “Mi corazoncito,” he groans raggedly into my hair. His voice is pure gravel, almost like he’s in agony. “Te extrañaba.” I’ve missed you.

  He’s not yours.

  He’ll never be yours.

  You’re with Brax.

  Don’t let the bully win. You can be the bigger person and pick Brax. That’s what’s best. I try and try and fucking try to remind myself. I chose Brax. I chose him. I chose easy and simple. I chose love.