by Cora Brent
There was everything sinful in the way she wrapped her legs around him. And yet she did not care. Had she perished in the waters of the Hassayampa today there would be nothing, only a black hole holding all the moments which might have been. Annika refused to waste this one. She wanted him. She’d always wanted him.
Mercer toppled her onto the pile of quilts. She met him with equal fervor, kissing and stroking every bit as ardently. As she spread her legs more eagerly around him he suddenly grabbed her hair close to the scalp and pulled, forcing her to look at him.
“Annika,” he said fiercely. “You’re mine.”
“Mercer, I’ve always been yours,” she whispered and it was true.
He entered her so suddenly she gave a little cry as her body tried to take all of him inside. He would be rough, unapologetic. She welcomed it, matching his hard rhythm. Yet he could be gentle too. Mercer paused and kissed her softly before pulling back slightly and issuing another deep thrust. Annika clutched at him, moaning a plea which rose from a deep place only he had ever been able to reach.
He held her close as she shuddered and begged. Annika scarcely recognized the sound of her own voice as she cried out with an agonizing pleasure which seemed to linger forever. This was what she had wanted every day since that far off afternoon she’d first laid eyes on him.
Mercer pulled her bodily upright as he remained inside of her. His hands gripped her hard around the waist and he moved her with a rough fury as his mouth sought her breasts. Annika threw her head back, loving the feel of his hot tongue on her sensitive flesh. She bucked her hips as hard she could, reveling in the way he groaned with the ecstasy of it. When Mercer finally broke into the rage of his wild climax, he tightened his strong arms around her hard enough to bruise. Annika felt the tremble of his powerful body and the hot emission into her core. He shuddered again and again, lifting her every time while he laid his absolute claim.
As they fell back onto the quilt in spent fashion, Mercer lowered himself on top of her. He stared down into her eyes and Annika reached out a hand, running her palm along his cheek. She loved him so much it was nearly painful.
“I’ve never loved any woman,” he told her flatly. “No, don’t close your eyes, Annika. You’re not going to pull away from me. You’re going to listen.” He held her down and sighed thickly. “I’ve done violence, Anni. You know that. You should also know I’ve bedded so many women I couldn’t guess at the number. And none have ever meant a damn thing to me. But that business two years back in The Rose Room with the whore and that man I stabbed? I may be a scoundrel but I don’t stand by for women being abused. There was nothing more to it than that, I swear.” He shook his head and looked into the fire, repeating himself. “No woman has ever meant a damn thing to me. There’s only you, Annika. You may sleep in my brother’s bed, wear his ring and stand at his side and it don’t change an almighty thing. Maybe it’s the devil’s pleasure but dammit I love you, woman.”
He kissed her with an urgent wrath which left her gasping. His words, crudely uttered, were the most honest she had ever heard. She was his. She knew she would give him everything.
Mercer allowed her to roll over until she was on top of him. The pain in her ankle was nothing now. It didn’t even matter. Annika bent low and took him in her mouth, tasting the musky heaven of their joining. He groaned and said her name. He became quickly engorged again as she ran her tongue up and down his hardening length. When he was ready he showed her how he wanted it, positioning her on her knees so that he could enter her from behind.
Mercer brought her to the place only he could find. She writhed and called out and as he filled her she opened herself up as wide as possible. She’d nearly forgotten the primal nature of lust which always roiled under the surface when she was with Mercer. He had reminded her. But it was more than that. It had always been more than that for her. And now she knew how it was with him. She didn’t want to think about the days of uncertainty which lay ahead. She only wanted to lie in the arms of her lover and feel him stroking her skin until he was ready to take her again. She knew he would be ready soon.
“Everything is different,” she whispered, moaning lightly as he plunged into her once again.
“Everything,” he agreed, already moving with furious resolve. “And nothing.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Contention City, Arizona
Present Day
He’d thought relief might be the primary feeling to consume him once his father’s suffering had ended. For days he’d watched the struggle and understood the weariness of the slow inevitable. He was there at the end, beside his brother, when Gaby put a careful finger against Priest McLeod’s neck and nodded.
“He’s gone.”
As he listened to Jensen erupt into sobs, Maddox didn’t feel relief. Instead it was grief, coupled with regret, which threatened to boil over as he awaited the removal of his father’s body. He didn’t cry, not even when Gaby’s soft arms wrapped around him as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Maddie.” He mutely waited and as Priest McLeod was carried away he said a silent goodbye. There wouldn’t be a funeral. While he was still able, Priest had made arrangements to be promptly cremated without a service.
Three days later Maddox watched the sun duck behind the Scorpion Mountains and wondered why the hell he was still in Contention. He could rightly answer his own question, even before he heard her voice drifting outside, playfully scolding her son for his dirty hands.
Gabriela’s house had endured flooding up to the windowsills. The damage from the river overflow was confined to the low valley homes, but it would still take time for all the repairs to be finished. Gabriela stayed at the house while Miguel divided his time between there and Jensen’s home.
If Jensen was aware of what went on between Maddox and Gabriela he had little to say about it. On the day after Priest’s death he’d looked at Mad squarely and said, “You sticking around long?”
“As long as I feel like it,” Mad said coolly, shuffling a pack of cigarettes between his hands.
Jensen’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t push things. Mad sensed that his brother would rather see him gone by now but that wasn’t Jensen’s damn choice.
“Hey, Mad,” Miguel poked his impish face out the back door. “Mom says dinner is ready.”
“Coming,” he answered.
Maddox stared at her as he settled into his seat. Gaby bent over and took a glass baking dish out of the oven. He groaned inwardly at the sight of her luscious ass as his body immediately figured out what he wanted to do with it. He might have grabbed her right there but the kid was sitting across the table, drinking milk and watching him.
Miguel grinned with a milk moustache. “Hey Mad, can you take me hiking again tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Maddox said, cracking open a beer. “Don’t you have school?”
Miguel rolled his eyes. “Not on Saturday. You always forget about Saturday.”
“I do, don’t I?” Maddox took a long swallow of beer and tried to quell the huge knot in his pants as he watched Gabriela out of the corner of his eye. “Sure, kid. If your mom can trust that I won’t let you go skipping into any open mine shafts, I’m game.”
Gaby placed a hot dish of enchiladas on the table. She tossed her oven mitts toward the sink and sat down at the table. When she smiled, Maddox again marveled over the powerful pull she had over him. He knew she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen or hell, even ever screwed, but now he couldn’t think about anyone else.
“I trust you, Maddox,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him as if she knew where his mind had wandered.
Maddox drank his beer and ate his dinner quietly. At one point he stared down at the napkin in his lap and experienced an odd sense of the surreal. How many years had it been since he had sat down at a table to a family meal? After Tildy died, Priest and his boys lived out of fast food bags. As he thoughtfully chewed and watched Gaby smiling at her son, he wondered how different things mig
ht have been. Perhaps this would have been his privilege every night. Or perhaps he would have resented it mightily and ran off anyway.
“Maddie?” Gaby asked with a frown as Miguel looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’” he shook his head. “Food’s hot, that’s all. So, Miguel, you be the pilot. Where should we begin our adventure tomorrow?”
Miguel’s eyes brightened. “Take me back to the cemetery. It’s awesome! I tried to talk to Dad about it but I don’t think he was really listening. Did you and my Dad really used to go there all the time as kids? Can I ride on the back of your bike sometime? Hey, what are they going to do with Papa’s ashes?”
Maddox laughed and tried to keep up. “Yeah, your dad and I used to travel to hell and back when we were boys. I think your mom’s inclined to say no to the bike.”
“You have correctly read my inclination,” Gabriela confirmed sweetly.
“As for Priest’s ashes,” Maddox paused. “I really don’t know, kid. Your dad might have some ideas but I don’t figure it would have mattered much to the old man. Gone is gone.”
“Gone is gone,” Miguel repeated soberly, nodding as if he were carefully absorbing this tendril of wisdom.
Miguel awoke early and went to bed late. On nights he was with them, Gaby always insisted that he had be unquestionably asleep before she allowed Maddox to touch her. As far as the kid knew, his Uncle Mad slept on the living room sofa while his mom slept alone in the bedroom across the hall. Maddox couldn’t bear to enter Priest’s room. The door had been closed since the hour his lifeless body was removed.
As Maddox stood in the dark he was edgy. He was tempted to get on his bike and just go. Maybe he would turn around in an hour and come back to Gaby or maybe he would keep going until he reached the western edge of the state where the world of Defiant awaited him.
“Hi,” said Gaby, kissing the back of his neck. She could move with stealth when she wanted; he hadn’t even heard her exit the house. Miguel must be asleep.
“Hey, babe,” he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the way her full lips felt against his skin. Without being prompted she moved her hands to his crotch and pressed the hard meaning she found there.
Maddox unfastened his pants and looked around, satisfied that the patio light was off and they couldn’t be seen. Then he laughed at his own new prudishness as Gabriela knelt and eagerly took him in her mouth.
“Aw baby, tease it. Tease it just like that.” He threaded his hands through her shiny black hair as she got him to the point where he had to stop or finish. “Wait, wait,” he pushed her back. “Lemme touch you first. You just take that little satin thing off if you don’t want me to rip it.” Maddox scooted back to an old redwood chair and pulled her to a straddle, impatiently pushing the fabric of her flared skirt aside. “Now ride me, Gaby.”
“Oh, Mad,” her breathing was already labored. She was one who came quickly. “I love it like this.” He gripped her hips and forced her harder, faster, and she trembled, biting down on her lip to keep from releasing a hearty cry.
When Maddox felt her spasm to finality, he withdrew and moved her hand around his unsatisfied dick. “Stroke it hard. Squeeze the tip. Shit, don’t stop. Gabs, bend over. I wanna come between your tits.”
She held him there until he finished, then she pulled her shirt down and stretched. Maddox grabbed her and pulled her into his lap.
“Maddox?”
“Hmm?”
She sighed. “Jensen asked me again how long you’ll be staying.”
“He know about this?”
“Well, he would have to be deliriously stupid not to catch on.”
“And we all know Jensen isn’t stupid.” Maddox paused, lighting a cigarette. He only smoked when he felt jittery. He wondered what that said about him. “You lookin’ to get rid of me?”
She kissed him. “You know I’m not. But…” she pulled away, staring at her lap. “I mean, I know you must have a life.”
“Everyone has a life, Gabs.”
She socked him in the arm. “Jesus, can’t you talk in a straight line? I mean, I know you have ties back there. With your club and all.”
Maddox exhale a plume of smoke. He knew what she was really getting at. “I don’t have a woman. You know that. You’re the only girlfriend I ever had. And no, I’m not blaming you. I’ve fucked, Gabs. A lot. You know that too.”
“Do you love me, Maddox?”
He shoved a hand playfully between her legs. “I think so.”
Gaby stood and stalked into the yard. “Noncommittal little shit,” she grumbled.
Maddox snuffed his cigarette out and went to her. She didn’t acknowledge him as he circled his arms around her body and buried his face in her hair. “I love you, Gabriela,” he said, so softly he barely heard the words himself.
She heard though. She spun around and allowed him to lift her in his arms. He carried her into the house and into his old bedroom and as he found his way inside of her yet again, it occurred to him with certainty that he would never tire of this. Never.
Later, as she lazily stroked him in the moonlight, she asked him to tell her more. About himself, about the people who meant something to him. She asked few questions as he talked more than he had in a long time. He told her about Orion and Grayson, Brandon and Casper.
Somewhere in the middle of his stories about the men of Defiant, she dozed off on his shoulder. He kissed her lightly and then left her to her sleep, groping his way into the dark living room and dropping onto the shabby couch.
Though Gaby had every right to, she hadn’t really questioned him about what he planned to do next. It was a topic he avoided entertaining even in his own head. Because the truth was, Mad McLeod didn’t know.
***
Miguel was in his face at sunup. Maddox grumbled but rose nevertheless, downing some coffee and waving off Gaby’s attempts to shove food in his mouth.
“You sure you don’t wanna come?” he asked her as she poured Miguel a glass of orange juice.
She shook her head, a small smile on her face. “I think you boys would have more fun without me.”
Maddox knew it was more than that though. She was trying to show how she trusted him. Nothing and no one was as precious to her as Miguel.
When Mad copped a quick feel in the kitchen Gaby didn’t swat him away as he expected. She nestled against him, just close enough for him to feel a hint of her breasts and smell the lavender scented shampoo she always used. There was an intimacy in the way she stayed beside him as the light of the morning sun filtered in.
“Let’s go,” he said to Miguel, tossing back one more gulp of coffee.
The coolness of the early hour wouldn’t last long but Gaby forced a sweatshirt on her son.
“I’m not cold,” the kid scowled once they were outside.
“Hey,” said Maddox, shrugging into his leather cut. “Look at it this way, your ridiculously cool uncle is wearing a jacket too.”
“That’s not a jacket,” Miguel said thoughtfully. “That’s like your skin.”
Maddox looked down at the battered leather. The kid had nailed it. The club and everything that came with it was who he was now. His family. How could he expect Gaby to understand that?
Yet as he listened to Miguel excitedly chattering about the million things in the minds of boys and thought about the tender look in Gabriela’s eyes that morning, he realized this was his family too.
He just didn’t know how the two fit together.
“Hey, Miguel,” he called. “Remember the rules. Follow where I go, step where I step.”
By the time they reached the cemetery it had grown warm enough for Miguel to tie his sweatshirt around his waist. The boy immediately went to the work of uncovering all the crude gravestones and touching each one as if magical properties could be absorbed from these last sad fragments of men’s lives.
Maddox allowed him ample time to explore. He kicked at rocks and tried to remember what it was like to
feel in awe of the wider world. Then he glimpsed the small cave he and Jensen used to hide in.
It was barely a shelter, now that he got a better look at it. A natural concave depression in a small hill, it had been carved out further by small animals who had used it as shelter. It had seemed larger when he was a boy. Maddox was scarcely able to fold himself inside. No, there was a reason why it seemed even smaller. Something was in the way. Maddox felt sharp corners and beyond that a smooth surface. He swiveled around to try to get a look.
It was some sort of safe, he could tell that. A real antique by the looks of it. It had been cracked open already and the door loosened easily under his fingers. He hesitated to dip a hand into its recesses without seeing what he was dealing with. Could be rattlers, scorpions or something worse hiding in there. With a mighty heave he dragged it out into the sunlight
“Mad, what’s that?” Miguel shouted, hopping over in a heartbeat.
Maddox frowned. “I don’t know.”
The safe was small, perhaps fifteen by twelve inches, perhaps a foot deep.
“Wait,” he cautioned Miguel when the kid made a grab for it. He peered inside and saw a few rocks. They were tiny, pebbles really and there weren’t many. The sunlight glinted off them and Maddox let out a low whistle.
“It’s treasure, isn’t it?” whispered Miguel in an incredulous voice. “It’s the lost treasure.”
“Maybe,” Maddox said carefully. Something about this wasn’t sitting right. Who the hell would have left an old safe half hidden in a cave flanking an abandoned cemetery? It would be tempting to assume it had always been there, stowed sometime in the darkness of a long finished century but he knew that wasn’t so. Maddox had been familiar with every inch of that cave when he was Miguel’s age. And while he figured these were real gold remnants and not the fool’s kind, there wasn’t enough to justify keeping it locked a safe that size. Unless there had been more. Perhaps it had been discovered somewhere else, then opened and emptied. Then the safe itself, a heavy and inconvenient thing, had been discarded carelessly in the cave.
