Mad Dog

by Ophelia Bell

  “I didn’t have anyone when Zag died, Celeste. Not for the worst of it. No one who understood what I was going through. No one I could talk to with any level of truth, without feeling like I had to hide the part of me that loved Zag. I’m not telling you this because I want your sympathy though. I’ve known Leo for a year now. I love him, and I’d be there for him if I thought he’d accept me, but it’s too late for that. You’re the only one who can see him through this.”

  My heart thuds hard, and I glance over my shoulder toward the bedroom, where Leo lies unconscious. Maddox touches my cheek and I turn back to him, holding my breath as he slides his fingers to the back of my head and caresses my nape.

  “He has no one else,” he whispers, his gaze intent on me. “And he loves you. When he wakes up, he’s going to be a wreck. It can’t be me he wakes up beside—not after how we left things.”

  “How—how did you leave things?” I ask. He’s leaving out a few details, and I’d prefer to grill him more rather than acknowledge what he’s just divulged about Leo’s feelings.

  He groans. “Like an idiot, I told him I was bi, expecting . . . I don’t know. That he’d just shrug it off. We haven’t spoken since.”

  I stare down at our clasped hands and shake my head. “Papá’s too dangerous. Leo’s better off if I don’t get that close.”

  “He saved your life. If that doesn’t earn the man a pass from your dad, I don’t know what does. Besides, we both know he can take Gustavo in a fight with no issue. It’ll take a lot more than that bastard to take him down if your dad has a problem with you two.”

  I wince. “It won’t be Gustavo. Amador shot him. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

  He falls back into his chair. “Gustavo’s dead? Fuck.” He swipes a hand over his face, his brows furrowed. “Shit. I need to go. But I mean it. Take care of him. Don’t let him be alone, all right?”

  “You need to sleep!” I grab his hand again and stand. He has a king-size bed. There’s room for both of us next to Leo. “Leo can wake up next to two people who love him, not just one.”

  Maddox stands and pulls me into his arms. His voice is gruff, tinged with sadness that breaks my heart to hear. “It can’t be me, Celeste. Not if I want you both in my life. I know how this works. If I push, he’ll disappear, and that’s the last thing I want. Help me be a friend to him.” He holds me at arm’s length and cups my cheek. “This is the only way I can show him how much he matters to me.”

  That’s when I realize what he’s doing, and I struggle to blink back the tears. “You can’t just give me to him, Maddox. It doesn’t work that way. There are other factors. My father, for one . . .”

  “Will you try?” He squeezes my upper arms. “Please. I know you feel the same way I do about him. I saw how you looked at him that day in my shop. Will you just try?”

  I swipe away the errant moisture from my eyelids and nod, unable to speak. But my acquiescence breaks down a wall inside me, leaving me with the calm certainty that this is the right thing to do, and that nothing my father says now will keep me from following through. It’s as if all I needed was Maddox’s permission to admit something to myself that he’s been sure of for a long time. Knowing he feels the same way—that he loves Leo too—just makes it easier.

  Maddox lets out a breath. “Thank you.”

  I shake my head and lean up on my toes, pressing my lips to his. I need one last taste before I turn away from him for good. His lips capture mine as if he, too, knows this will be the last, and I sink into him with a whimper. I wish he’d made love to me in the shower, or even two weeks ago down in his mother’s studio. But it’s too late for that. I know he’s right, that Leo needs this. He’ll be lost without his brother by his side, so he’ll need someone to fill that void.

  After several seconds drawing out the kiss, Maddox is the first to break away. He presses his forehead to mine, breathing hard. “I have to go find J.J. Get some sleep. Call me if you need anything. Anytime, all right? I mean that.”

  “I know,” I say, and it takes all my effort to turn away from him, but when I walk toward the bedroom where Leo sleeps, my steps are light, and for the first time in my life, I feel truly free to love.

  16

  Leo

  A fiery burn like a hot poker spears my shoulder, jolting me out of the horrific dream I’m having. In the dream, my brother’s dying and Celeste is torn away from me, screaming. I can’t save them both, and I’m paralyzed with indecision.

  Cool fingers on my forehead rouse me and I gasp, eyes flashing open, then clenching shut from the bright sunlight.

  “Leo, it’s all right. I know it hurts. Just take this. You’ll feel better.”

  “Celeste,” I croak, awash in relief at the sound of her voice until the truth about last night rushes back to me. At least half of it was true. “Ay Dios, Manny.”

  “I know.” Her voice sounds just as wrecked as I feel, and I open my eyes, turning toward her and reaching out despite the agony that sears through my shoulder.

  “No,” she says, grimacing and pushing against my chest. I fall back with a groan and turn my head instead. Even that hurts, but it’s worth it to see her face.

  “Are you all right?”

  She has dark circles under her pretty eyes, and her normally healthy bronze skin is ashen, but she nods and gives me a weak smile. “Just tired. Here.”

  She holds up a large white pill, and I open my mouth, happy to take whatever it is if it’ll take the edge off any of what I’m feeling. I dry swallow before she can bring the water glass to my lips but let her feed it to me anyway. My mouth is parched, so I take a few extra swallows, enduring the ache of having to move just to reach an angle where she doesn’t spill.

  A little more conscious, I push up on the elbow of my good arm and frown around us. We’re lying in a huge bed in a room I don’t recognize. I’m wearing nothing but my boxer briefs, and she’s in a baggy T-shirt and sweats. “Where the fuck are we?”

  “I brought you to Maddox. He patched you up. Papá sent Dr. Yao over a couple hours ago but he said there wasn’t any more he could do that we hadn’t already done. Maddox did a good job.”

  “This is his bed?” I ask, a foggy cloud of memory flitting just out of reach. I barely remember the events after getting shot. I can recall the lights of the freeway and the sounds of voices. Benny and Baz and two other men. One must have been Maddox.

  Jesus, I probably owe the fucker my life. I glance down at the bandage that’s taped around my entire shoulder, then ease back onto the pillows.

  “Does Papá know what happened?” I ask.

  “I told him everything. Elena knows. Baz and Benny are at the house. Toni’s driving up.”

  Her voice breaks, and my throat closes up. I reach for her, hooking my hand around her shoulders and pulling her to me. Toni isn’t just her best friend. She’s mine too. Half of my favorite tattoos came from her, the other half from Maddox, or as many as I could get in the year since I’ve known him. At this point, the two of them and Celeste are the only people who know me best who aren’t family. I have no family besides my brother.

  Had. I close my eyes and hold her tighter. Wet tears cover my chest from her soft sobs, and my own cheeks are soon drenched. When I can breathe evenly again, I awkwardly hook my fingers around her hair from behind and pull it away from her face, touching her cheek. The numbness from the drug is taking over, all my pain receding, and it leaves me with the residue of the moment.

  Celeste is in my arms. What an awful fucking excuse for me to have her here, but the fact remains that she is here. Holding me. Crying on my shoulder. Sharing my pain.

  “I love you,” I say, the words slipping out before I can register the barrier has fallen. Fucking drugs.

  She sniffles and lifts her eyes to mine, then laughs. “Really? I thought he was just saying that to get me to sleep with you.”

  “Who?” And wait, sleep with me?

  “Maddox told me your secret.”

&n
bsp; “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” But something warm and comforting spreads through me even sweeter than the pain pill. Or maybe it is just the pain pill. But the horror of last night recedes a little at the thought of the pair of them taking care of me.

  “It’s okay,” she whispers, leaning closer and sighing against my neck. “Because I love you too.”

  I’m paralyzed by her words. Words that I never in a million years imagined I’d hear from anyone, much less her. I need clarification, some sign that I’m not hallucinating. I’d sure as fuck happily wake up from this dream if it meant Manny wasn’t dead, but it would be hard as hell to let go of this feeling if it isn’t real.

  As if reading my mind, she says, “It isn’t new. I think it started when Papá hired you to protect me. But you know what Papá’s capable of. I wasn’t about to confess if it would put you in danger. After last night, I couldn’t not tell you. Maddox only made it clear that it was dumb for me to hold back.”

  “Maddox,” I mutter, then chuckle. “I fucking love that guy.” I give her a sad, sleepy smile, and she raises her eyebrows at me.

  “Pretty sure the feeling is mutual there too,” she says. “He’s a good friend.”

  There’s subtext somewhere beneath her words, but the drug has kicked in hard, and I don’t have the mental capacity to find it. I toy with her hair some more and lift my head, inhaling the woodsy scent that makes no sense on her but feels right all the same. She sighs and turns her head just enough for my lips to graze her jaw. I’d be content just to lie here and hold her, so it surprises me when her lips brush mine.

  I don’t respond at first. My reactions lag behind the awareness that she just kissed me. But all it takes is the gust of her breath across my lips and molten heat rushes through me. I grip the back of her head in my hand and surge toward her, ignoring the nagging protest of my injured shoulder. Nothing matters but the feel of her lips on mine and her startled moan when I plunge my tongue into her mouth.

  I want her. With my entire being. Every cell in my body is alive with need that grows exponentially when she relents, letting out another sweet moan as she opens up and lets me in.

  Sweet fucking Jesus, I don’t just want her, I need her, because in the midst of our kiss, the memory of last night barrels back through my mind. She was in danger and all that mattered in that moment was keeping her safe. I’d have given my life for her. Instead, I’m left with a gaping wound where my brother used to be, and God help me, I’m going to take what she’s offering because I doubt I’ll be able to survive otherwise.

  “Celeste,” I pant when we part, breathless, our foreheads pressed together. She rests a hand on my chest and slides it down to my belly. My abs tense from the warm tickle and somehow through the haze of the painkiller my cock rouses. I try to sit, but she pushes me back down and shakes her head.

  “We both need this,” she whispers. “Let me make love to you.” She sits up and straddles my hips, resting her plump ass against my hard dick. This has to be a fucking hallucination, but it feels too real. It’s all too real, the good and the bad.

  She leans down and kisses me again, more slowly than before, and I raise my good hand to cup the back of her head. I want nothing more than to flip us over, strip her bare, and bury myself inside her, but the second I make another move the pain flares through the numbness and I gasp. I clench my eyes shut, breathing hard until it fades.

  When I open my eyes again, it’s to the sight of her peeling the baggy shirt off over her head, baring her beautiful tits. She’s not small, but whatever constricting bras she wears have always managed to disguise how truly magnificent they are. I’ve never gotten more than a small peek of cleavage, though her curves are impossible to miss. Now I feast my eyes on the full, heavy weight of them and my hand has a mind of its own as it cups one breast and thumbs her dark nipple.

  Her hips press down and her head rolls back as she sighs with pleasure. My mouth waters, but I know better than to test my pain threshold enough to sit up and suck on her nipple. I swallow before reaching for words.

  “Let me taste you.” I squeeze her breast gently in my hand, tugging toward me. She opens fevered eyes and nods, leaning over and bracing her hands beside my head so both luscious orbs hover right where I want them. She lifts both hands to grasp the headboard and lowers herself to the perfect height, her nipple brushing my lips. I dart my tongue out first, elated by the tiny gasp she emits when I tease a wet circle around her hard tip. Then I capture it between my lips and suck hard. I buck my hips up against her at the same time, in a desperate search for sensation to obliterate the constant surge of images from last night.

  Celeste lets out a moan, remaining poised over me as I switch to her other breast, nipping with my teeth before sucking again. She rocks against my hips, a steady motion that I meet, every thrust sending jolts of pleasure up my spine. I grip her waist with my good hand, slide it down beneath the elastic waistband of her shorts, and groan when I find nothing but bare skin beneath. Her ass is full and warm and smooth in my palm, and I squeeze, pulling her down as I rise up and grind against her core.

  “Take these off,” I growl, yanking the waistband over her ass. She sits up again, then rolls off me and onto her back, shoving out of the shorts and kicking them aside. I turn onto my side as far as I dare to avoid irritating my shoulder, but she pushes me back again and climbs astride, naked now. I’m pushing my shorts down when she takes over, scooting back and tearing them off my legs and over my feet.

  She pauses at my feet, sliding her gaze up my body. When her eyes reach my stiff cock, she licks her lips. I can’t help but raise my hips and flex, making my erection sway. I grip myself and stroke, and she lifts her gaze to meet mine, her gorgeous eyes terrifyingly like her father’s but so different. Gentle, afraid, and determined.

  “This is all yours, ángel,” I tell her. “Come and take it.”

  Her movements become languid, almost hypnotic as she moves back up my body, but I don’t think it’s on purpose. It’s as if she’s driven by instinct, her eyes ablaze with desire as she straddles my hips again. I move my hand away when she reaches for my dick, and her attention fixes on the hard length in fascination when she grips me. She gives me a light stroke, cradling my cock as if it’s made of glass.

  “Please, God. You won’t break me.”

  She tightens her fist, watching my face as she strokes me again, hard this time, and I groan.

  “Like this?” she breathes, then raises her hips and presses the ridge of my cock between her thighs, sliding along my length with the most mind-blowing friction.

  “Yes. Fucking hell, yes.” I grip her hip and squeeze, my gaze locked to the cleft between her thighs and where it parts to reveal her pink, glistening flesh pressed tight to my dick. She slides along my length, wet heat coating my skin, then pauses when my swollen tip nestles against her opening. My hands flex against the mattress, the movement sending a jolting reminder of my injury through me. For the first time, I’m grateful for it because otherwise I’d lose my mind.

  When she presses down onto my dick, she bites her lip and winces, and the reason for her fearful look hits me. It makes no sense, or does it?

  “Celeste, are you a virgin?” I ask.

  A tear breaks free from the corner of her eye, but she shakes her head and lowers herself a little more. “It’s just . . . been a while. Ah.”

  The flesh of her lower lip is white from the pressure of her teeth, and I’m frozen, not wanting to push up into her despite the agony of pleasure her slick channel inflicts on the head of my dick. She’s hot and wet and, oh, so tight. When she opens her eyes and meets mine, there isn’t a shred of uncertainty, but she must see my hesitant confusion at her pain.

  She leans down, bracing a hand in the center of my chest, right over the image of an anatomical heart tattooed over my real one. “I want this,” she says, sinking down a little more. “Because I love you.”

  Her hips slide the rest of the way down my length, and I re
joice with a guttural groan. She lets out a gasp, and her eyes go wide before she begins to move like she was made to ride my dick. I’m at a loss for words, but three words echo through my head: I love you, I love you, I love you.

  17

  Celeste

  I only tried having sex with someone one other time since Maddox, but I didn’t go through with it because it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure why, because it was during my rebellious phase when I hadn’t yet learned how deadly Papá could be to men who get close to me. Now I think I understand what held me back. Not only was the man trying to use me to get to Papá, I didn’t love him the way I loved Maddox when I was fifteen. The way I love Leo now.

  Even with his cocky attitude, despite his drugged haze, I want him. I want to make him feel good, help him forget, let him help me forget. And I do. Once I start fucking him, nothing exists in the world but the sweet pleasure of his thick fullness inside me. He plunges deep with every undulation of my hips, hitting a pleasure center that I barely remember I have. I felt this way once before, with one other person, but that has to be kept in the past now.

  Still, I can’t help but wonder where Maddox went, when he’ll be back. I only dozed for a little while before Leo woke up. It finally hits me when the slap of flesh grows louder, echoing off the cinderblock walls, that there are no walls inside this apartment, except the ones that separate the bathroom from the rest of the place. If he’s here, he can hear us.

  Yet that doesn’t bother me at all. On the contrary, it makes me hotter to imagine his penetrating gaze somewhere, watching Leo and me. Now that I know his secret, that he is in love with Leo too, I wonder which one of us turns him on more.

  Leo has always been mouthwatering to look at with skin a deep, golden brown and his crazy, curly mane. He stays clean-shaven, but his stubble grows fast, and I bend down to kiss him, wanting the rasp of sensation against my lips. He kisses me back with abandon, groaning into my mouth and hooking a hand at the back of my head to hold me to him before dropping the hand to cup my breast again. His other hand rests on my thigh, clenching as if to keep his damaged shoulder immobilized.