by Gina Whitney
You have a fitting this week
Signed,
Tough love…
It was fucking Chance’s handwriting.
Bastard.
What a little bitch. So I took the whole jar and dumped it into the trashcan. Raisins, I thought, shaking my head. Now, I’d plot all the ways to exact revenge. Everything he held dear would be fair game. You don’t fuck with someone’s peanut butter cups—ever.
In a half hours’ time, Abel loomed in the doorway. My body already aware of his presence. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His voice was full of concern. “Is she sleeping?”
I nodded, not willing to verbally answer in the hopes he’d take the hint. My hands still soothed Bella as I walked through the space to her cradle. Following my lead, he kept quiet until I put Bella down.
“You look upset,” he said. But I wasn’t… I was livid. Not upset. He sat on the bed, drawing me to him. “Tell me what’s got you so upset? I came home early, figuring we could go out tonight for a bite to eat,” he said casually. I melted into him, and focused on his clean scent to calm me.
I may have come off sounding irrational or even unhinged, but I didn’t care. I just blurted it out. “Chance took my hidden stash of peanut butter cups. Replaced them with plump, ugly, yellow raisins, and I want you to kill him for me.” A sexy smirk of delight came over his face and I blushed because now I felt like an idiot. A pissed off idiot that wanted a bloody massacre.
“Fine, but you have to help. We’re a team; isn’t that what you keep saying? So, we will kill him together.” His voice rumbled as he focused on my lips. He hadn’t made another sound, but his warm breath made me hot and cold all over, making it hard to concentrate on the massacre of Chance. His power challenged me physically, mentally, and stopped all other thoughts. Mind-fucking me…
“I absolutely hate you. You know that, right?”
“Yet your eyes devour me.” He paused. “My lustful little beauty.” His lips were on the tender part of my neck before I could bat an eye. There was no pretending his words didn’t hold merit. Our passion was always so raw and undeniable. It would be a lie to deny it out loud. His colorful fingers kneaded my shoulder and moved down my arms. Transfixed by their beauty, I watched the colors bleed into my skin.
I sighed loudly, letting go of any anger I felt toward the unmentionable one. I needed to get ahead of the escalating passion or we wouldn’t be leaving here. “I’d love to have dinner with you,” I whispered through a moan.
He stopped dead in his tracks. “It’s settled then? You want to go out?”
I couldn’t blame him for being so tentative. My emotions we all over the place. “Yes, I need this. We need this.”
He nodded his agreement with a kiss to my cheek and then grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts. When he turned to face me, he asked, “Can you be ready in an hour?”
“Yes, but—” I didn’t get a chance to utter the word before I was cut off.
“There’s breast milk in the refrigerator, right?”
“Yes, I pumped this morning,” I answered, the excitement constricting my insides. He barked out a series of orders, despite my fingers to my lips. I went to my closet wondering what not only would fit, but what I would look good in. Where was he taking me? Who in the hell was going to watch Bella?
The click of his phone sounded and it was back in his pocket. “We will have to wait to kill Chance. He’s agreed to watch Bella.” He spun me until my back was against his chest. His hands squeezed my engorged breasts before they gripped my thighs pulling me onto his hard cock. Disarming. That’s what you call this. Who could concentrate on a murder with his sexual cloak shrouding me.
“Where are we going?” I moaned, feeling suddenly very hot. His hand glided back and forth over my yoga pants, and the intimate contact felt divine.
“Santa Catalina. We’ll only be fifteen minutes away in case of anything.” He bit the back of my neck and released me with a pat on the ass. “Forty-five minutes now…my beauty. Best be ready on time.”
I tapped out a quick text to Cindy, letting her know Chance would be babysitting Bella. Hopefully, she’d stop in to check up on them. Abel had already told me that Woody and Cindy were talking again. I had to wonder if that wasn’t partly the reason for her lack of contact. On a normal day, in a normal world, this wouldn’t happen. However, this was Lethal Abel boys we were talking about. They had an unassuming way of encompassing and dominating your thoughts without you even knowing it.
Forty minutes later, and with five to spare, I wrote out a list of all possible scenarios and what to do. Bella was down for a few hours, and in very capable hands. Cindy and Woody were going to stop by, so my anxiety wasn’t reaching explosive levels.
Abel left the front door open, choosing to wait outside for me. I took a deep, calming breath and went to him. I told myself I had dressed for me, but it was all about him. It was a plain, black satin cocktail dress that hit me just below the knee. The top was fitted with one shoulder that fell off loosely. The bodice was tight, holding in any undesirable bumps. It didn’t scream siren, but was provocative, sexy, and potent on the eye. And, I felt fantastic in it. I was even amazed at my transformation. Feeling a bit like my old self, there was confidence in my step with every sway of my hips.
I heard his sharp inhale before I saw him. His eyebrow raised and his lips parted with just a hint of that shiny tongue ring. I ran my hands over my arms, feeling a prickle of awareness. The black pupils nearly ate away his gorgeous green eyes. He leaned against the car, his hair long enough to slick back, adding a touch of old Hollywood meets new vogue rocker chic. He donned a beige fitted suit, crisp white shirt, with a tan textured Gucci tie. The black Ferragamo belt added a touch of color. My eyes traveled up and down, leisurely taking him in. His legs were crossed at the ankle, showing off his black YSL loafers. My god, he was a walking couture billboard, and cleaned up exquisitely, nearly rendering me speechless.
“Whoa,” I said as he stepped close enough for our lips to touch.
“Whoa yourself.” His eyes held mine in captivity. “Come, my beauty.” He extended his hand and I folded into the back seat of the Phantom. Scott drove us tonight. Abel rarely drove anymore in LA. The media was a constant battle that neither of us wanted to deal with. With his temper, it was only a matter of time before he ran someone over. And with my hormones all over the place, I just might’ve let him.
We drove in the opposite direction of LA traffic, and I wondered where this place was. Everything lavish and trendy was in Hollywood. There was no need to venture off anywhere else. Ten minutes and three drugging kisses later, we pulled up to a private airstrip. My mind raced, wondering where in the hell this Casa Catalina was that we needed to be on an airstrip.
The car pulled alongside a small black helicopter. “Wait one minute. I thought we were going to a restaurant.”
The driver opened his door, ushering us out and into the waiting helicopter.
“We are.”
I took his hand, following him out, willing to play along. I wasn’t dealing with a normal man here. He lived by his own code. He bent down, sweeping me off my feet to lift me into the copter. Abel got in behind me, and Scott opened the front, getting into the pilot’s seat. Scott reached for the headphones, placing them over his ears, and started to flip some switches.
“He can’t fly…” I shouted as the propeller’s started up, causing a loud hum. “Can he?” I felt overly panicked, hoping my life wouldn’t flash before my eyes.
“He’s licensed, and we’ll be fine. I promise,” Abel said, kissing my nose. “Here, put these on.” He handed me a set of headphones, the big kind that fit over the entire ear with a mouthpiece attached to one side.
We lifted off, and I gripped Abel’s thigh hard with one hand while the other held the door for dear life. After a few minutes of smooth flying, I started to settle in, and Abel became the tour guide, talking into the microphone so that I could hear him throu
gh the earpiece. “See that down there?”
I looked over to where he was pointing, taking in the incredible view.
“Catalina is part of the Channel Islands Archipelago. Archipelago is made up of eight islands and is divided into two groups. Northern Channel Islands and Southern Channel Islands. They were founded by Native Americans. However, Catalina is the most inhabitable.” He drawled over the steady drone of the rotors. I was putty in his hands. He worked me, molding my body and mind until I was unable to resist. Charmer.
After what only seemed like minutes, we touched down. Abel was at my side, and our night in Catalina started off glamorously. Instantly, we were whisked away in the back of a blacked-out Suburban. We drove along the roadside beach until we entered the driveway of Descanso Beach Club. It was beautifully whimsical, but not the over-the-top lavishness I’d expected. Always expect the unexpected, I reminded myself. Abel was passionate about his lifestyle, as he was about any other aspect of his life. He was all in…
Abel guided me with his hand to limestone steppingstones that led to the beach. Tip-toeing over them in five-inch heels was comparable to being in American Ninja Warrior. Each step, the stones would shift side to side. It was a delicate balance of sheer will and determination. At the end of the path, there was an opening that led to the beach. I looked down. Sand.
“Here…” He knelt down, letting me lean against his shoulders to steady myself, and removed one shoe at a time. “Better?” He drew me to him, whispering into my ear as my eyes wandered. A white gazebo with burning torches lit up the beach in front of us.
I gasped after one appreciative glance. “Is that for us?” I didn’t even know why I asked. I knew him, and this was his personality. He always had to top the best. It’s just who he was.
“No,” he teased. “That’s for a guy who’s miserably in love with his bride to be.” Then he pointed to an outdoor tiki bar. “That’s for us…”
I had no choice but to roll my eyes. He was right. It was a ridiculous question. Which, in turn, got a ridiculous response. We walked along the cool sand hand in hand, a playful smile pulling at his mouth. He was oddly romantic, swinging our hands as we walked until we reached our destination.
“May I?” He pulled out my chair. What is he politicking for? I sat and dropped my clutch on the table. He sat himself, grabbing his napkin as a mature looking waiter came from beyond the tree line.
“Can I offer you any wine or cocktails this evening?” He only made eye contact with Abel. It was probably very clear how dominant he was, so there would be no point in asking me anything.
“Opus One, 2010 cabernet please, and some sparkling water.” Arrogance flowed from his every word, and at the same time, I found it all together arousing. He disarmed people with his tattooed image and piercings. However, when he opened his mouth, he was confident and articulate. Mindfuck.
The waiter returned with the bottle of wine Abel ordered, making a show out of uncorking and pouring. He waited for Abel to taste before he lavished my glass with some purple heaven. I could only have a glass or two, because of the breastfeeding. Luckily, I’d been pumping so I had some saved up in stock for the occasional alcoholic splurge. It took twelve hours for alcohol to synthesize through your body, and since I was Bella’s personal milk cow, I had to be careful. It didn’t help that I had a fear of intoxicating my newborn with my milk.
“Do you see what is in front of you, my beauty?” he asked, the rasp in his voice crashing against my thighs and causing me to squeeze them together. He clinked his glass with mine, toasting us, and I focused on what was in front of me.
I saw the picture-perfect view in front of me. The sun sank rapidly into the horizon, eventually melting into the sea. The star’s bright voices came alive in the night sky—a perfect canvas for seduction.
The heat of his gaze ignited tiny flames along my skin, alighting my body in a familiar warmth. “It’s beautiful. I don’t have any other words for it. Simply stunning.” And it was. But, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but his fingers settling on my thigh…squeezing every so often. A reminder that he occupied me and the space around me.
His emotions seemed to roll off him. “I feel it’s on me to show you how much you mean to me. That there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. Any distance I wouldn’t travel, and any line I wouldn’t cross. You are my bottom line, Beauty. And I don’t have to remind you that I play for keeps.”
What was wrong with him? I knew all this. All of a sudden, his expression turned very serious.
“The album drops at the end of the year.” He paused, his eyes seeking my own. “There will be a tour, and I won’t go without you and Bella.”
His eyes shone in the moonlight, waiting—watching. Transcendence. Before I was utterly paralyzed by him, I answered. “Do you honestly think the road is a wise choice for Bella? I mean, we barely survived it. How do you think a baby will do in the chaotic-nomadic-mess called rock and roll?”
He looked like I just slashed him across the face with a butcher’s knife. The smile he wore was instantly replaced with something else. Anger. Rejection. Hurt. Pain. The intoxicating cocktail blew through my mind, into my veins, and out of my pores. I wanted to take it back. My skin began to heat up for an entirely different reason. I felt dizzy with remorse.
“I’m sorry,” I amended. “I sound like a witch, and it didn’t come out how I intended.” I continued grabbing his hesitant hand. “I’d follow you anywhere. It’s your business. I get that, but…I’m just saying, it’s no longer just you and me. We have our dragonfly now.” I hedged, hoping he’d see where I was coming from.
“Would you like to order now?” I heard someone say from behind me, releasing me from the numbing trance. I deferred to Abel, as I didn’t see a menu to order from. A look of concern lingered beyond his handsome features, but he remained composed.
“I’ll have a word with your chef,” he said, throwing his napkin on the table.
I watched his retreating silhouette fade into the backdrop of the scenery. I had to wonder what this all meant—if anything—or was I an insecure gaggle of hormones and bad karma? Unsure of how long he was gone, it may have only been a few minutes, but I felt a succinct separation. My words, as innocent or truthful as they were, unbalanced me. I couldn’t imagine what they did to him. At the end of the day, all I wanted to do was thank him for loving me. Beyond all the pain, emotional cracks, and wicked insecurity…I am his and he is mine. Our baby wouldn’t be fledged into chaos…she’d be blinded by love.
The evening continued. He had not spoken a word, and barely touched his meal. His silence was unsettling, even frightening. I expected something from him—anything. His face reddened, and I could see he was fighting to control his temper. Yet his eyes continued to fixate on the shoreline as the waves lapped along the sand. I remained quiet. From experience, it was wise to let him work it out internally first. Then, the words would come. The food was delicious, but the thick tension draped over me, squeezing my throat with each swallow. Dry, tasteless, and bitter. My words came back to me over and over again with each bite I took.
Earlier, our desire was barely controlled. We were desperately in love. But, I felt torn between my overwhelming love for him and the love for our daughter. This was about my love for both of them.
He spun around suddenly, causing me to jump, his teeth showing as if he were about to growl. “I’d hate for you to feel you’re being held captive by a nomadic-mess of a rock star.” His face darkened further, but I remained confidently quiet, despite my pounding pulse. “I didn’t realize you felt the way you did. And, well, I take that personally.” His rage was very apparent, not only through his harsh words, but also by his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. “I’ve failed to take care of you, and my lifestyle isn’t good for Bella.”
Oh, for the love of all things holy. Really? “Not true, and you’re twisting the intent behind my words,” I said tersely, not caring how he took my attitude at the moment.
> His gaze was unnerving, but the creases in his brows held disappointment. I knew the facial expressions of Abel well. Just like he was proficient in reading mine. His feelings were hurt, and as badass as he liked to portray himself to be, he was still a man with pride in his eyes and love in his heart. However, his secondary needs were tricky. It was his fear of rejection and abandonment that he struggled with. He attempted to mask this with primary needs…thirst, hunger, and sex. I am no stranger to the way he feels. We are very similar in that way. So I knew I needed to be assertive and consistent in my response. That way, there would be no misunderstanding. I decided to take a page out of the Abel handbook of hard-hitting, jaw-dropping, flat-out truths.
His scrutinizing eyes watched me carefully.
“I’m very lucky to be in love with you. To be loved by you. I can live without some things, but never you.” I dropped my napkin and went to him tentatively. “How can I possibly express to you in words that have been said a thousand times?” His eyes fell to my mouth. “My heart’s on fire for you. It burns and will keep burning, because I want you. I need you. I love you.” His silence nearly killed me. A breath away from his lips…all rational thought was slipping out the open window of control. Hold it together, I thought. This is his move. Let him make it. Have some faith.
Before I blinked, his lips were on mine, claiming me without our bodies touching. Without any hesitation, we didn’t fight the hungered passion between us. No matter how much he kissed my lips, it wasn’t enough. I was lost in him. The passion behind his kisses, his scent, and his touch. Consumed by lust, I drove my tongue deeper. Pulled the back of his neck closer. More. I just wanted more. It was the sound of my zipper being tugged that popped my eyes open. His eyes were nothing but black, depthless pits of carnal need. He released my kiss and pulled me across his lap to cradle me in his arms. One hand worked the side zipper, while the other hand pulled the material over my hips. His fingers grabbed the string of my panties and tore them off…leaving me bare and exposed. Punishment. Alpha, potent, possessive, and dominant to the point of insanity. Heat blew wickedly across my face. The thought of this waiter coming to check our table disturbed me.
