Ivan (Gideon's Riders Book 3)

by Kit Rocha

  But now there was Maricela, with her soft touches and sweet smiles and gentle commands, who would grieve for him and miss him.

  Maricela, who made him want to live.

  Ivan just wasn’t sure how.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It took Maricela a grand total of twenty minutes to realize that she was terrible at keeping secrets.

  Every time Ana looked directly at her, she felt like her cheeks were flaming. Like it didn’t matter if she said the words out loud or not, the truth was written all over her face--by the way, I spent the whole night fucking Ivan.

  Plainly, there was only one way to deal with the situation--avoidance. So Maricela lingered in the shower after breakfast, then invited Ana for a very long, very pleasant walk through the sunny gardens.

  They’d only just gotten back to her suite when Ivan returned from the barracks. He spoke briefly with Ana, apprising her of Deacon’s current whereabouts, while Maricela kept her head down, pretending to be fully engrossed in the book on her lap.

  “That sounds good,” Ana said finally. “I’ll see you later, Maricela.”

  She looked up. “Thanks for staying with me, Ana.”

  “Any time. Thanks for letting me eat Ivan’s share of breakfast.” With a wink, Ana slipped out the door.

  Ivan closed it behind her and turned slowly. “Everything go okay?”

  “Of course.” She shut the book without marking her place and set it aside. It didn’t matter anyway, because she couldn’t remember anything she’d read. “You?”

  “Well enough. Your brother wants you to step back from your public commitments. I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”

  He said it matter-of-factly, as if it had already been decided. “I see.”

  Ivan’s brow furrowed. “You don’t sound like you see.”

  “Sure, I do.” She grabbed the book and headed for her small study to put it away. “There was a meeting that I wasn’t invited to where the topic was discussed without my input and a conclusion reached. Business as usual.”

  When she turned, he was standing in the doorway, still watching her warily. “I don’t think anyone wanted to worry you.”

  No one ever did. “Maybe what worries me is not being consulted about my own life.” He filled the doorway. There was no room to brush past him, and he showed no inclination to move, so Maricela stopped in front of him and stared up at him. “Everything happens to me. I might as well be a table or a lamp. Just once, I’d like to do something.”

  He watched her in silence, then nodded once. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  “Wouldn’t Gideon rather have me stay home?”

  “I asked if you want to get out of here.”

  Almost as much as she wanted to kiss him. “Desperately.”

  “Okay.” As he stepped back, his gaze drifted slowly down her body. “You’re going to need to change. Do you have any jeans?”

  »»» § «««

  He took her for a ride on his bike.

  At first, Maricela thought he planned to cruise around the sector for a little while, just far enough away from the palace for her to breathe a little easier. It would have been enough, to have the hot summer wind rush by. To cling to his waist and press as close to the hard, muscled lines of his back as she wanted. It would have been heaven.

  But he kept driving, out toward the far edges of the sector, beyond the ranches and farms that made up most of the estates. Then they crossed a bridge over a wide river that sparkled in the sunshine, and she realized the truth.

  He was taking her away. Not just from the palace, but from Sector One.

  The world sped by in a blur, but the road was constant, a dark, sun-scorched ribbon of freedom winding through the dirt and scrub of the desert. Exultant, she threw her head back to laugh, but the wind snatched the sound and carried it away. The only thing it couldn’t overcome was the rumble of the motorcycle, heavy with power as Ivan gunned the engine and drove faster.

  He handled the bike as gracefully as he did everything else, guiding it through the curves like it was an extension of his body. Maricela leaned with him, relishing the simple, steady competence almost as much as the way his muscles tensed as she gripped his sides through his T-shirt.

  Eventually, buildings started to appear ahead of them. Small, sad little shacks first, then sturdier ones. They topped a gentle hill and an entire settlement appeared on the other side, a mixture of wooden houses and reclaimed train cars and vehicles backed against each other at odd angles. Animals grazed in a communal pen, and children kicked a ball across an open, dusty bit of ground.

  Ivan coasted down the other side of the hill and came to a stop near a cluster of cars. He kicked down the stand and waited for her to pull off her helmet before helping her off the bike. “I come out here sometimes when I need a break from people who recognize me,” he said, placing the helmet on the seat. “Your cousin actually introduced me to it.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Outside of Sector Four.” He pointed toward another road that headed back in the direction of Eden, which was just visible to the northwest. “That road leads back into Four. Technically this isn’t part of any sector, but the people here answer to the O’Kanes.”

  He said it like it was no big deal, this tiny cluster of life out in the wilds--and maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he saw places like this all the time, all over, places she couldn’t even imagine. “It’s beautiful.”

  “In its own way,” he agreed.

  He dropped a hand to the small of her back and guided her toward a brightly painted van with a window cut out of one side. It opened as they approached, revealing an older man with sun-weathered features and a ready smile. “Ivan. It’s been a long time.”

  “It’s been a busy year,” Ivan replied. “Shorty, meet Maricela.”

  No recognition showed in the man’s face, and no instant worship. But his smile was plenty charming as he leaned out of the window and offered Maricela a big hand. “Well, Ivan’s never brought a pretty lady to see me before.”

  “He hasn’t?” She arched an eyebrow at Ivan, whose lips lifted in a tiny smile. “That’s a shame, because the food smells fantastic.”

  “Of course it does! Fit for royalty. You know, the queen of Sector Four herself comes out here just for my tamales.”

  “Then I have to try them. Ivan?”

  “Tamales are good. And two beers.” He pulled some folded Eden currency from his pocket and traded it for two cold bottles. Then he tilted his head. “Come on.”

  He led her to a picnic table a short distance away from the truck, where he straddled one bench to sit. She did the same, facing him, as he opened her beer. “Adrian told you about this place, huh?”

  “Yeah. Some of the O’Kanes really like it.” He took a sip from his bottle and made a face. “The beer’s not as good as ours, but the food is amazing. I don’t know how he cooks shit that good in that tiny van.”

  “He must be a miracle worker.” The beer washed over her tongue, bitter and sharp, but not unpleasantly so. “I like it.”

  “Yeah?” That little smile played around the corners of his lips again, as if he took pleasure from watching her enjoy something new. “I know you almost never get to leave One, so I thought it might be a nice break.”

  That smile was making her dizzy, lightheaded, like she was drinking champagne instead of beer. “You were right. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “Maybe...”

  He trailed off, and she waited for him to finish, but he just eyed her uncertainly. “Maybe what?”

  “Well, your brother said he wanted you to drop your public duties, but he did tell me he didn’t want to trap you on the estate. Maybe there’s other stuff you’ve never gotten to do. Things you want to do.”

  There were a million--simple things and scary things, easy and complicated, and everything in between. “Like what?”

  He tapped his beer bottle lightly on the table as he thought. “Go to a market whe
re nobody knows who you are, maybe. You never really get to browse and haggle.”

  Where nobody knows who you are. All her life, everything she’d ever wanted had materialized as if by magic, gifted to her by her brother or sister or some dedicated believer who loved her because of her family name. The only thing she’d never had was the only thing she’d never been: normal.

  “What are bars like?” she asked curiously.

  Ivan almost choked on his beer. “Uh, usually dirty and loud. Rowdy. Full of fights.”

  It didn’t sound safe, but it didn’t sound boring, either. “I want to go to one.”

  Ivan’s dubious look was interrupted by Shorty arriving with their food. He set a basket in front of each of them with a grin and took himself back to the van. Ivan pulled his food closer and studied Maricela. “Okay, how about a market first? And I’ll figure out how to pull off a bar.”

  She toyed with the edge of the corn husk wrapped around one steaming tamale. “If you give me time, I can come up with a whole list of things I’ve never done.”

  “You should. What else would be on it?”

  Only one thing that mattered with him looking at her like he wanted to lick her. “I’ve never kissed someone in public.”

  Ivan’s gaze slid past her, wandering over the people going about their lives and the children shrieking with glee as their game escalated. There were people around, but no one who cared about them, and after a moment his eyes found hers again. “Do you want to?”

  “Always with the questions.” She leaned closer, close enough to lay her hand on his jaw as she pressed her lips to his. His mouth was warm and firm, but he made no move to deepen the kiss. Their lips brushed and parted as he slipped his fingers into her hair, the kiss slow and easy and endless.

  It didn’t matter that he was barely touching her. Her heart thudded, then skipped a beat entirely when he ended the kiss with a tiny nip of her lower lip. She stayed there, motionless, her eyes closed, unwilling to let go of the moment.

  Someday, the memory of it would be all she had left.

  “Maricela,” he murmured against her lips.

  She opened her eyes and smiled. “So many firsts. I’m not sure we have time for all of them.”

  He leaned back and dragged his lunch closer. “So we’ll hit the ones you really want. Kissing in public. Haggling in a market. Visiting a bar.”

  Falling in love. “Don’t forget Shorty’s tamales.”

  “Why do you think they were number one on the list?”

  “Because you, Ivan Wolff, are a genius.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  They hadn’t technically broken any of Gideon’s rules by leaving the estate, but Maricela seemed so enchanted by the idea of sneaking back in that Ivan couldn’t stop himself from indulging her.

  Indulging Maricela was quickly becoming his favorite pastime.

  “How.” It wasn’t even a question. She repeated the word, wide-eyed, as she dropped to the bench at the foot of her bed and tugged off one dusty boot. “I mean...the guards are everywhere, all the time. It’s impossible to get past them.”

  She was so giddy he couldn’t tell her that they hadn’t. One royal guard had winked at Ivan from his secluded post--a new addition demanded by Ashwin, who had surveyed the residence’s defenses and identified weak spots. If it hadn’t been impossible to get into the Rios estate undetected before, it sure the fuck was now.

  Makhai soldiers apparently got even scarier than usual when they were expecting babies.

  But Maricela’s flushed cheeks were adorable. Ivan settled in a chair and tugged at his own boots. “You should see me scale the outside wall sometime.”

  She paused, her cheeks growing even redder, then threw a sock at him. “Okay, now you’re just teasing me.”

  He loved her blushes. And her laughter. “Are you doubting my stamina?”

  Her other boot hit the floor. “Not after last night.”

  His body tightened. Desire slid through his veins, a heat as powerful as if he’d done a dozen shots of O’Kane’s finest whiskey. He knew his doubts would return the second he stepped outside the intoxicating sphere of her magic, but it was so easy to rationalize here as he stripped off his boots and watched her eyes darken with anticipation.

  She was sparkling. She was happy. How could anything that made her shine like this be wrong? The world owed Maricela Rios a little joy.

  She swallowed hard as he stood and stripped off his shirt. Her eager gaze raked over him, but then she lifted a hand to her hair. “I’m grungy. I need a shower.”

  A beautiful image filled his head--Maricela, naked, water from the enormous showerhead cascading down the curves of her body. “That shower’s big enough for two.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it again, then tugged at the top button on her shirt. “I’ve definitely never done that.”

  No, she probably hadn’t. Her lovers were here to worship a saint, not have dirty, messy, hot sex with a woman. Ivan could all too easily imagine their horror at the idea of pushing the Rios princess up against the tiles of a shower wall and fucking her with their fingers until her knees gave way. Only a month ago, he would have been horrified, too.

  Turned the hell on, sure. But horrified.

  Weeks of close quarters had shattered all those saintly illusions. Not because Maricela wasn’t as perfect as he’d imagined, but because she was, and all that damn worshipful distance was slowly killing her.

  Maricela didn’t need reverence. She needed the thrill that filled her eyes as he stalked toward her and pushed her hands away from her shirt. He found the second button, working it effortlessly as he backed her toward the bathroom. “Soap makes everything slippery, you know.”

  She moaned. “I can’t tell if that’s a promise or a warning.”

  “Both.” He got her shirt open and took his time sliding it from her shoulders, savoring the soft skin on her arms and how she shivered at the slightest touch. “How much of a warning depends on you.”

  Her hands dropped to his belt. “On how far I want to go, you mean.”

  “Mmm.” They stepped into the bathroom, where the tile was cool under his feet. “That’s why I’m always with the questions. If you want to have really good sex, you have to ask the right ones.”

  She tipped her head back. “Such as?”

  She was under his spell now, hanging on his next words. Ivan backed her up against the open shower door and leaned in, whispering into her ear as he cupped her breasts. “Does this feel good?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, then frowned. “Wait, were you asking me, or telling me the right question?”

  “Both.” Her bra was deceptively simple, lacking a lot of frills and ruffles but tailored to her and hand-stitched. He worked the hooks and drew it down her arms, baring her breasts.

  Her nipples were stiff under his palms, and he caught them between his thumbs and forefingers and pinched hard enough to drag a gasp from her. “Do you like it a little rough?”

  She shuddered. “I don’t know.”

  Of course she didn’t. How could she? No one would ever dare handle the precious princess with anything but the gentlest of touches. He tightened his fingers on her nipples until she was squirming between him and the shower stall, her breathing quick and unsteady. “Do you want to find out?”

  “Yes.” The word tore free of her as she arched off the shower door. “Fuck, yes.”

  He released her long enough to pop the button on her jeans and haul the zipper down. “Take off my belt.”

  Maricela was tugging at the buckle before he finished the sentence, her fingers trembling on the leather. “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  Her eyes locked with his. “Like it rough.”

  He could still feel the scratch of her nails over his back. He wanted it again. “Sometimes, yeah.”

  Maricela hummed softly. She left his belt hanging open and stretched up on her toes, far enough to reach his mouth. Her teeth closed on his lower lip--
gently at first, then hard enough to sting.

  Pleasure rushed through him. Ivan shuddered and slid his hands into her loosened jeans, under her panties and down to cup her ass. He dragged her to him, grinding his painfully hard dick against her. “You learn fast, don’t you?”

  Her sigh blew over his ear. “Only from you.”

  He could get drunk on words like that. He nipped her earlobe and shoved her pants and underwear down over her hips to her thighs. “Get in the shower.”

  She reached in and turned on the water before shedding her clothes. By the time she was naked, steam billowed out of the open shower, and she arched one eyebrow in challenge as she backed under the hot spray.

  Ivan kicked off his pants and followed her. He couldn’t not. She was made of impossible contrasts, her eagerness to be taught clashing with a lifetime of giving commands. Her brazen curiosity about sex twined in and around a sheltered innocence. She was bold and blushing, pliable and demanding. Sometimes all in the same breath.

  It was the hottest thing Ivan had ever seen in his life.

  He dragged the shower closed behind him, and he’d been right--there was a lot of room in here. More than enough to maneuver as he backed her up against the swiftly warming tiles.

  So many possibilities. Her skin was slick. Hot. He pressed his erection to her hip and let his hand glide over her curves, lingering to flick a thumb over her nipple and tease the indent of her belly button.

  Every wriggle and squirm ground her harder against his dick, but that would only make it better when he finally sank into her. “Give me your hand.”

  “Just one?” She placed her right hand on the center of his chest, curling her fingers just enough for her nails to score his skin.