by Caro LaFever
“Querida, this isn’t a rejection.” He leaned in and nuzzled the side of her cheek and strands of her wet hair. “Condom.”
A sigh of relief came from her before she chuckled. “Good catch.”
“Sí, I am a good catch.”
That got him a peal of pure laughter. “Cocky.”
Easing back from her body, he looked at his rigid erection. “I do have a cock, also.”
“Go get the condom.” She eyed him, and then slanted him another sultry look. “Fast.”
He bounded out of the shower, raced into the bedroom, and down the stairs to his own. Cursing himself for not putting a box in her side table, he grabbed several silver foils and romped back up the narrow stairway and into the steam of the bathroom.
He came to a sudden stop.
Jessie stood under the wash of water, eyes closed, her head lifted, the flow of her hair falling to her butt. The auburn curls were dark at this moment, essentially black in the dim light. Yet, they still held a fiery glow, as if nothing could quench the indomitable woman inside. He watched, enchanted, while she arched, sliding her hands down her sides to her hips.
How could she not see her own beauty?
An intrinsic beauty that would last for decades. One of bravery and courage, determination and dedication. For his entire life, he’d surrounded himself with women who needed. Needed him to pay the bill or pay attention to them.
But Jessica McDowell didn’t need him to do any of that.
What she needed was merely him, his pure want and wild desire. His tenderness and gentle touch. What she needed was the fragile part of his heart he’d held so close for so long. Would he be able to give her everything she deserved?
Realization soaked through him like a cold stream. Would he be able to be what she needed? How could he, when there was so much he had to hide from her in order to keep her believing in him?
Glancing over her shoulders, she smiled, a winsome, wistful expression that wrenched his heart all over again.
His Jessie just needed him.
And he had so little to give her.
“There you are.” She reached across and pushed the glass door open. “I thought you’d never get back here.”
“I’m back.” Throwing on his usual jaunty smile, he discarded the ugly and took in her goodness. “Are you ready for me?”
Chuckling, she side-eyed him. “Always.”
Dios, how he hoped she’d be his for always. He was playing the most precarious hand of his life, and he suddenly realized the stakes were far higher than he’d imagined.
“Come on.” She beckoned. “Come here.”
Stepping into the mist of the shower, he slid the foils onto the windowsill, except for one. He fumbled with it, his hands inexplicably shaking.
“Let me.” She snatched it and pulled out the plastic. “I get to touch now.”
“No tickling.”
Her head snapped up and her mouth dropped open. “Aha! You’ve admitted a weakness.”
“¿Qué?” He grabbed her hands to keep safe and stepped into her personal space, pressing her against the tile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There’s going to be payback for what happened in bed a few minutes ago.” Her mixed eyes narrowed. “You can bet on it.”
“Can I?” Nudging closer, he nipped at her nose and then her lips. “Let’s discuss something else.”
For a second, her gaze stayed narrow, but then, when he sucked on her lower lip, they turned soft. “All right.”
“How about you put that condom on me?” His cock ached with need for her. “Now.”
“All right,” she agreed again.
Her prompt response made him smile. Though when her long fingers touched his abdomen and then skimmed to his heated flesh, it slipped off his face to be replaced with a grimace of pained pleasure. “Jesús, what you make me feel.”
“Mmm.” Her focus stayed on her hands and his cock. Slowly, excruciatingly, she rolled the condom down.
Nick fell into her and fell apart at the same time. His famed concentration, his pride and arrogance, even his ugliness dropped away, leaving him naked. So much more than physically naked. He lost the ability to speak in anything other than his native tongue. The language he’d grown up with and had tried to discard his entire life.
“Te necesito ahora,” he moaned.
Sí. He needed his Jessie now. Now and forever.
Her hands encircled his neck and to his great satisfaction, she lifted her legs to wrap them around his hips without his even having to ask.
“Come inside me,” she whispered on his lips. “Take me.”
He would.
He would take everything she had to give and more.
His cock surged into her core, making them both gasp. Closing his eyes because he couldn’t take in any more sensations, he set a hard pace, as if he were driving cattle down into the valley ahead of a mountain storm.
His Jessie didn’t flinch from the hardness nor his pace. She pulled him closer and sucked on his lips like she wanted him to do anything he wanted.
So he did.
He reared into her, he pummeled her body with his. He took and took and took until he felt filled with her very essence.
With a groan, she arched, her head falling back on the tile, her elegant neck glistening with mist and sweat. His two marks on her skin were clear and his maleness rejoiced in seeing them.
She was his.
Her core tightened around him like a hot fist of female desire. He watched as the orgasm swept through her, bringing a soft, rosy blush to her skin. The last dim brain cell he held on to went black, and his body took control. The orgasm flashed through him like a desert summer storm, violent and mighty. Filled with the roar of life and the lightning of power.
Nick shook, his muscles tensing, his spine rigid as his passion poured out of him and into her.
He took.
Everything.
Chapter 22
“You came with me when I had a crisis.” Jessie glared at him. “So I get to come with you when you have a crisis.”
Nick tried to appear nonchalant, except this was too close and too significant. His fingers twitched at his side and he felt like a live electrical wire. “Is that right? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
They’d arrived in Las Vegas this morning early, after spending an entire week in San Francisco. A week of lovemaking and laughter. A week he’d cherish for the rest of his life. He should have never mentioned his aunt’s situation again, but he’d received a call from his cousin as soon as they landed at McCarran International. Jessie’s keen, intelligent gaze had latched onto him and seen something.
Whatever the hell she’d seen on his face when he’d been talking to Alvaro, he had no clue. However, it had made her obstinate.
“There doesn’t have to be an agreement when fair is fair.” Tapping her foot on the tarmac, she folded her arms and frowned at him. “And my going with you is fair.”
“I don’t play fair.” Not wanting to continue the conversation, he turned and marched toward the tan-and-cream airport building, where his limo waited on the other side.
“I’m coming with you,” she stated from not far behind him.
Nick decided not to answer. It would just fire her up even more. He’d learned as a young boy with his mamá the value of being silent. By the time they drove into the city, she might have switched her focus to something else, allowing him to take care of this family business without her knowing.
“You’ve met my family.” His Jessie doggedly kept fighting. “Now I meet yours.”
His temper bubbled. No one ever questioned him about his family, or tried to help him. Not even Maggie dared. The whole thing was a quagmire only he dealt with. He bit his tongue from lashing out. Reaching the double glass doors, he threw them open and marched into the small executive airport. Past the floor-to-ceiling windows, past the big black leather chairs, ignoring the crowd of people standin
g by the counter, he headed for the front doors where he saw his limo driver waiting.
“You are being a jerk,” Jessie grumbled, her long legs easily keeping up with him.
Sí. He was a jerk. Occasionally, he wearied of charm and smiles, the covering he’d layered on him over the years. Sometimes, he showed his true colors. And his poor cowgirl was eventually going to see that more and more.
The thought made him curl his lip in disgust at himself.
His driver straightened, eyes widening. “Sir?”
“Let’s get into the city before the traffic hits.” He punched the door open and walked back into the dry heat of the day. Ignoring the conversation between her and his driver, he strode to the limo and climbed in.
“Sir?” The man popped his head into the open door. “Your luggage?”
The fucking luggage. The phone call and her pestering had made him forget all about it. “You can return for it after you drop us off.”
His driver disappeared, to be replaced by a scowling Jessie. “That’s ridiculous. We can wait for a minute for the attendant to unload the plane.”
“I don’t want to wait for a minute.” Leaning back, he breathed through his nostrils, trying to rein in his temper. “I have things to do.”
“Like visiting your family—”
“And I have the money to pay for my driver to return and pick up our luggage.” He pinned his gaze on the outside, watching the palm trees sway in the growing wind. “Don’t worry. You’ll have your clothes within an hour.”
Nodding in resignation at the driver, she clambered onto the seat beside him.
The door thudded shut.
If his calculations were correct, he had about thirty minutes of dissembling and distracting before he’d be able to drop her off at his casino. He should call Clyde and ask some questions, then transfer him to his daughter. That would eat up time and help in the distracting.
He slipped his cell out of his pocket and tapped.
“I don’t know who you’re calling, but it’s rude to talk on the phone when you have someone trying to have a conversation with you.” Giving him her side-eye, she huffed for emphasis.
His temper had cooled enough that he attempted a soothing maneuver. “We’ve had many fantastic conversations during the last few days.”
Her glare softened. “Yes, we did.”
“At the moment, though, you need to see how your father is, and I need to check on my casino.” Clyde’s voicemail answered when he lifted the phone to his ear. His temper simmered. Where the hell was the old man when he needed him?
“No, that’s not true.” Leaning across the seat, she plucked his phone right out of his hand. “You’re not going to check on the casino. You’re going to check on your family.”
“Give that back,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
“Not until you agree I can come with you.” Her determined gaze didn’t flinch. “You need me there, Nick.”
That was the wretched reality. As soon as Alvaro had told him what was going on, he’d immediately thought of how he needed Jessie with him.
But then she’d see the ugly.
He’d shown her enough of the ugly for a lifetime. Look at him right now. His temper would only grow worse when he walked into the mess his aunt had created.
“I’m not going to get out of this car.” Her body went rigid with resolve. “You aren’t going to get away from me.”
“Dios joder que todos al infierno y volver.” The Spanish curse shot from his mouth as his tenuous control slipped.
“You’re speaking in Spanish,” she said. “Which means you’re emotional about something. I’ve learned that.”
“¿Qué demonios?” Slumping in his seat, he scowled. “I’m not emotional.”
Her snort filled the limo. “Right.”
“I’m not.” He sounded like a petulant child, making him even angrier.
What the hell had happened to the perfect harmony they’d shared in San Fran? Why had she suddenly turned from an enchanting goddess who took his breath into a demanding, determined creature he’d thought he’d charmed into compliance? Only a fool would believe Jessica McDowell would lose an essential part of her DNA, though. She might be a goddess and she might be his Jessie, but she was still a McDowell.
So. Sí, he was an emotional fool.
The realization burned into him like a brand.
“You can’t fool me any longer,” she kept going at him. “I know you too well.”
His temper roared, breaking the last strands of his restraint.
“Carajo!” Jerking across the seat to her side, he loomed over her, trying to intimidate. Charm and smoothness dropped from him like an ill-worn cloak, and the bald truth of his character forced its way to the forefront. “You’re going to go back to the casino and see your father.”
Jessie didn’t budge. And her gaze never faltered. “No.”
Maldita sea! “You’re going to do what I say.”
Her wide mouth twisted in a wry turn. Fearless female. Unwavering woman. “Not a chance, cowboy.”
She was coming far too close. When he’d made this demented deal with her father, he’d slotted her into a tiny hole in his life. A woman who’d go shopping and leave him alone except for some bedroom games. When he’d met her, she’d become his Jessie. A winsome lady who’d tunneled into his heart with an ease that astonished him. But he’d never dreamed of showing her the ugliness of his insides and the darkness in his soul. He’d never thought she’d want to see his seamy past, or confront the ongoing chaos that was his mamá’s family.
“You’ll hate it,” he sneered in her face. “You’ll be disgusted.”
“Hate what, Nick?” Her gaze narrowed, that damned intelligence of hers coming to life. “Be disgusted by who?”
Him. And his relatives.
He loved his mamá’s family. He loved the way they embraced him, knowing the essential ugliness, and yet, still accepting him. He loved the laughter and the loudness, adored the food and casual warmth. But he understood too well the underlying problems.
For years, he’d used his money, charm, and influence to buy green cards, arrange jobs, smooth over problems with the police. Since the moment he earned his first million, quite a lot of it had gone to funding college tuition and paying medical bills. Paying attorneys and settling disputes. His two uncles, who’d illegally immigrated from Mexico with his mamá decades ago, had both received new homes as well as citizenship. His aunts had gotten any job they wanted within his empire, and his cousins routinely asked him for favors.
He gave. Gladly.
Yet, he understood something his father had pounded into him with bitter words time and time again.
His mamá and her family weren’t consistently honest or trustworthy. They often skirted the law, made deals with unsavory people, lived on the edge. Hell, he’d lived with them right on that edge until he was fourteen. He knew. His father was right about this, at least, if not much else.
You are a crazy savage.
But what can you expect coming from the filth you grew up with?
“Nick?” His Jessie’s voice pulled him from his ugly thoughts, and he realized he’d been hovering above her like a thug.
Lurching back, he sank into the leather seat.
“Hey, you.” With a quick move, she sidled to his side and laid an arm across his taut belly. As she’d done a hundred times before, her head snuggled into his shoulder. And just like all those other times, his heart twisted and turned and fell. “You can trust me.”
His sighed, the turmoil in his gut making him sick.
“You can,” she insisted.
He had nothing to say, no more defenses. There wasn’t any way he was going to push her out of this limo, causing her to be disappointed and angry at him. Instinctively, he understood he’d lose something precious if he didn’t bend to her will.
“Here’s the thing.” Her hand swished across his stomach and chest. The action stirred the inevi
table lust which mixed into his anger and pain, leaving him with a hard, twisted mass inside. “I won’t hate anyone in your family I meet.”
His family.
He’d long ago decided no one was truly his family.
When he’d walked away from his pa and the ranch, he’d left behind the yearning need to bring the two pieces of himself together. There’d been no hope of that, not after years of fruitless work. He’d come to terms with the knowledge. Learned to like being free to be on his own, his own creation.
Yet he felt an ominous rush of that yearning once more.
A feeling that he needed to resolve these two different sides of himself, if he was ever going to be worthy of this woman sitting beside him.
The thought punched him, making it hard to breathe.
“I won’t hate your family, no matter what, Nick.” Sliding her fingers in between his, she gave him a brave smile.
She wouldn’t. He could predict with complete confidence she’d love his Tía Estella and Miguela. She’d laugh at Tío Bernando’s stupid jokes and hug his youngest cousins. If his aunts’ had their way, she’d be feasted and feted, and he’d be marrying her in the midst of a mariachi band.
Jesús. He could just imagine Clyde McDowell’s face. Much less his father’s.
“Jessie.” He sighed again.
“And I won’t be disgusted.” Lifting her head, she fastened her gaze on him. When he eased his cock into her and whispered Spanish on her skin, her eyes would turn an amazing gold. The light would linger in the blue and green and brown. Now, though, those mixed eyes of hers were dark and direct. “I won’t be disgusted by anything you show me.”
He knew that wasn’t true.
But it appeared he had no choice.
His Jessie was coming with him come hell or heaven. He could see it in her eyes.
“Okay, Ginger Snap.” Throwing his arm around her, he pulled her into him. “You win. You’ll come with me.”
His family was wonderful.
What had he been worried about?
Jess smiled at one of his aunts before scooping up a toddler who was scampering around the big, modern kitchen. An indecipherable babble erupted from the little girl’s mouth—a mix of Spanish and baby talk.
