I arched my back as his mouth made its way down my body, pausing over my hipbone and showering my belly in kisses as he pulled my jeans off. His hands pulled down my panties and then he cupped my ass as I gripped his hair.
His tongue gave a long, slow lick down my center, drawing a low, throaty moan from my throat. He teased me, tasting me without focusing where I needed him and making me squirm. When his tongue found my clit, my body arched off the bed, and I felt him smile against me.
After I was throbbing for him, he knelt in front of me, taking his cock in his hand. He pulled me onto his lap, sat back against the headboard, and guided me onto his cock. Gripping my hips, he slowly urged me to lower onto him, until he was fully inside me.
“Oh, Grant, baby.”
His mouth went to work on my nipples as I rode him, rubbing my clit on his crotch, feeling his huge cock filling me. It wasn’t long before we were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, our breaths short pants of lust and need. Then, right before the tight coil low in my belly threatened to ignite, Grant lifted my chin and stared into my eyes, never losing my gaze. I loved him so much, in every way, mind, body, and soul. He thrust me down one more time, pushing me deep as I came, with him falling over the edge right after I had.
This time, he didn’t throw me off him. He paused, stroked my hair, and buried his head in my chest.
“Mia, I don’t think I can ever let you go.”
“Then don’t. We can make this work. You know how much I love you.”
I pulled her against my chest. My head was still buzzing from our incredible sex. This time, my orgasm brought me a surprise.
I hadn’t just been fucking her or using her to get off. I cared more about her pleasure than my own.
I wanted to find my way back to the guy that I had been when I’d been in love with her. I wanted the girl she had been when she’d been in love with me. I craved her. But I could never be with her if I couldn’t trust her. And I was balls deep inside her, I had just made love to her, and yet, my anger over her lying to me wouldn’t quit. I may have believed that she didn’t know our son was alive, but she had still made all those choices without me.
“Tell me everything. How was your pregnancy?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah.” There was a slice of cool air over me as she slid off my lap and curled against my side.
“It was great, actually. I was sick at first but felt better after the second trimester. He was growing perfectly, and I was really excited to be a mommy.”
I rubbed her arm. “When’s his birthday? Where was he born? What was his legal birth name?” I had so many questions I unloaded them like rapid fire.
She gave me a small smile. “September 6. San Francisco General. Elías Joaquín Cruz.”
I flinched. She’d given him her brother’s name as our son’s middle name. It pissed me off, but I wasn’t going to make a big deal about it.
“Do you have any records from the hospital?”
“Yeah. But not with me. They are all in storage up in Marin.”
Note to self—time to go to Marin. “How did you support yourself?”
“It was tough doing it all alone. After I left you, I knew I couldn’t go to school full time once I had Elías and I didn’t want to ask Joaquín for help since he didn’t know I was pregnant, so I moved to a small apartment in Marin. Got a job at Nordstrom’s as a makeup artist because they had medical benefits immediately after training.”
My chest constricted. “I have the best medical insurance.”
“I know. So many times, I picked up the phone to call you. I was going to show up at your place with my small bump, beg you for forgiveness. But I wasn’t sure the baby was yours. I didn’t know if you would believe me about being raped, or if you would’ve thought I’d cheated on you. I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t do anything. You don’t know how much I missed you. I was so alone, Grant, just like I am now. But I never stopped loving you.”
“I know.” I pulled her tighter into my arms and kissed her tears away. And in that moment, all my hatred for her washed away. I believed her. I finally pulled my head out of my ass and, for the first time, could see things through the veil of my own anger. She only had me and Joaquín, but she had shut us both out. She had been raped. She was pregnant. I was injured—she felt she had no choice. What must it have been like to go through that alone? The pregnancy, childbirth, getting sick and then losing him. And how could Joaquín abandon her knowing she had been raped? Had he known she was also pregnant?
I cupped her face with my hands. “I want to try to make our relationship work. I can’t promise you more than that right now. But I need you to be completely honest with me from here on out.”
She rapidly blinked. “Babe, really? I know we can find our way back to what we had. Maybe find something even better. If we can get through this, we can get through anything. I just need to know you forgive me.”
“I forgive you. You’re a strong woman. I know you were doing what you thought was best and didn’t want to burden me because I was in the hospital. Do I like it? No. I hate it with ever fiber of my being, but I understand why you thought that it was your only choice. I need you to promise me that if we do this, we do it together. No more lies or keeping stuff to yourself because you think it’s for the best. I’m a man, Mia. I can handle it.”
Her face brightened, and she nodded before pulling herself on top of me. We kissed like we were teenagers on a first date. A new beginning for us. Her eyes sparkled. I enjoyed making her happy.
We both got ready for bed and within a few minutes, Mia was fast asleep. But the sandman refused to pay me a visit. Curry’s tiny meow beckoned me to the office. When I opened the door, I found her pacing around the room, probably desperate for some affection.
Curry rubbed my leg, so I picked her up and pet her until she purred. I prayed that my son was somewhere safe and that I would be able to find and protect him.
I’d always loved animals, dogs more than cats, but it was still nice to imagine that my son shared my love for animals. I wondered what else we had in common. Was he competitive like me? Stubborn like his mom? Did he like being outside? I couldn’t wait to get to know my son.
I looked around my office and saw a picture of Mia and me kissing at BUD/S graduation with Joaquín in the background. I remembered that day so clearly. Mia was wearing her sun dress and beaming with pride. My chest was bloody from when my commanding officer pounded my trident into my flesh, a scar I wore proudly. Best day of my life. I’d achieved my goal, was about to embark on my dream career, and had the love of my life by my side.
But after studying the picture, a wave of nausea hit me. Something had set me off. The way Joaquín was looking at Mia. His lips were pressed flat and his face wore a pinched expression. He looked angry on what should’ve been the happiest day of his life. I couldn’t be certain, and I was probably reading something into it, but it almost looked as if he was jealous of us. Maybe he had just been jealous that he didn’t have a steady girlfriend who loved him the way Mia loved me.
He and Mia had always been strangely close, but I figured it wasn’t my place to judge. I didn’t have a sister. But Joaquín and Mia’s relationship just seemed unnatural, like that stupid Friends episode where that guy Rachel was dating was bathing with his sister. A few times, I caught Joaquín watching Mia too long—too intently. Fuck, I didn’t even know what I was thinking. I was probably a sick fuck for even thinking something was off. Either way, had he been any other man, I would’ve punched him for looking at Mia like that.
We were going to go see him tomorrow, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to speak clearly. But the facts were clear in my brain.
Joaquín and Mia were not biologically related. Did that matter? Did he know? And if so, when did he find out?
Joaquín knew she had been raped yet never told me or comforted her. Why? He and I could’ve banded together to try to figure out who had done
it. Gone to where the party was held, interviewed people, gone to the police. And even if we hadn’t been able to find out anything, we could’ve been there for Mia. I was certain that if I’d been told about what happened, I would have convinced Mia it wasn’t her fault and she would’ve come back to me. I would’ve taken care of her and married her and raised her son no matter if I was the father or not.
Also, Joaquín was accused of killing Tiffany, the woman who gave my son to her mom to raise. That could not be a coincidence. He either knew all along that she had our son and killed her to ensure her silence. That possibility was so horrifying that I didn’t even want to think about it. Or he found out she was involved in kidnapping our son and killed her in a rage, which would make him a good guy—a hero who killed to protect our child.
I had my doubts.
I rummaged through my desk to find the number of my vet. I needed to get Curry her shots and get her spayed. But my hand landed on something else.
A box containing the engagement ring I had bought for Mia.
I chucked that stupid ring across my hospital room the day she’d left me. I had considered pawning it, swallowing it with some tequila, or even incinerating it. But something made me hold on to the ring, maybe a small hope that, one day, Mia and I would get back together again.
I opened the box and stared at the small, oval diamond ring. It had a thin, rose-gold band, which I had thought would look perfect on Mia’s finger.
I snapped the box shut and shoved it to the bottom of my seabag. Too many what-ifs and unknowns. I felt like I was living in my own choose your own adventure book. Somehow, I doubted that I could change this saga into a happy ending.
The next morning my head buzzed like I had a hangover, which was probably from all the crying I had done last night. Grant hadn’t made any smartass remarks to me, though. He greeted me with a loving kiss, freshly brewed coffee, and slow cooked oatmeal. For the first time since this nightmare started, I wasn’t scared of what he would say next or what my next lie would have to be.
I pressed the coffee mug to my lips. “How’d you sleep?”
“Not good. Curry kept me up all night meowing.” He stared at my hair. “You going to stay blonde?”
“Not forever. I do need to touch up my roots. I thought you liked blondes?”
He smirked. “I like your natural color.” He took my hand across the breakfast table. “Finish up. We need to go see your brother.”
I shoveled down my oatmeal, hopped into the shower, quickly dressed, and we left.
We sat in silence in the truck as we made our now normal route to the jail. My nerves were raw, and I kept glancing at Grant, wondering what he was thinking.
Before we exited the truck, Grant turned to me. “Remember what we talked about. Only tell him about the DNA. That’s it. Not about finding out that Julián is our son, not about Joaquín knowing you were raped, none of that. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He leaned over to my side of the truck and gave me a kiss.
We walked into the jail and followed the same procedure, but it was faster this time. Apparently, we were becoming regulars here and the guards were starting to recognize us. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, so I just gave them a tight smile as I passed.
As I waited for Joaquín to turn up into the room, I realized I felt uneasy about seeing him. Everything had changed when I found out my son was alive. Nothing made sense to me anymore.
But I couldn’t allow my mind to doubt him, and I wouldn’t give up on him when I’d been through so much to help him. I had to believe in him until I had irrefutable evidence that he was guilty. If I didn’t, who would?
Joaquín grinned when he saw us. He picked up the phone, and I clutched the other end. “Damn, I can’t even miss you two. You’re allowed to go on living your lives.” I glanced at Grant, and he just gave me a small shrug. “I’m playing. What’s up?”
I turned back to my brother and gave him a pursed smile, debating how to handle this awkward conversation. I didn’t know the best way to ask, so I just let the words come. “Did you know we aren’t biological siblings?”
His face turned white, and his brow furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about, sis?”
I’d rehearsed this answer in my head, remembering the lie I‘d created about why I would’ve needed his DNA. “I am working with a private investigator to help you get out of here. He asked for your DNA sample to check for other evidence. I didn’t have one of yours, so I sent mine since we are siblings, then I found your hairbrush and sent hairs from it in. The lab said there was no biological relationship between us.”
His fist clenched. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Mia. You’re my sister. Maybe your guy fucked up?”
Fuck, he didn’t know.
I glanced at Grant again, but this time, his gaze was locked on Joaquín.
“No, it isn’t a mistake. I had it retested with a letter you sent me—he took the DNA from the envelope seal. I don’t know what to say. Maybe Mama and Papa adopted you? Or me?”
“Fuck if I know. So, what the fuck are you saying? Because of some piece of paper, you’re no longer my sister? That you no longer love me? We grew up together. You’re everything to me.” His voice dripped with desperation.
“No, no, it isn’t that at all. I swear. I just wanted to know if you knew.”
“No, I didn’t fucking know. Papa and Mama’s secrets died with them. Not that it matters. You are my sister, Mia. Mine. No matter what that fucking test says. No piece of paper is going to change the way I feel about you. I love you. Is this why you came here today? To destroy the only thing good left in my life?”
“God, no. I just thought you should know.”
His vein visibly throbbed. “Fuck you, both. I’m stuck in here, and you are running DNA and shit? What the fuck does that have to do with the case?”
“The PI wanted to run your DNA against other evidence at the crime scene. If we can find someone else’s DNA in the room, it could prove someone else was in that room other than you and Tiffany. I had no idea I would find this out.”
He exhaled and clutched the phone. “Well, that didn’t solve shit. Maybe you need to look closer to home.” His gave Grant an intense, fevered stare.
What the fuck? Was he insinuating that Grant had killed Tiffany?
I glared at Grant. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his teeth were clenched. Grant stood and walked out of the room.
Fuck. My thoughts froze. I looked up at the wall, as if it would give me some answers.
Finally, the cloud evaporated from my mind, and I forced myself to speak again, softly. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means what it means.” He blew out a deep breath and narrowed his eyes on me. “Never mind. Go run after your boyfriend who treats you like shit. Do you know how many women he fucked after you left him? He doesn’t love you, Mia. Not like I do. I’m done.”
Joaquín dropped the phone and signaled to the guard to open the door back out of the waiting room.
I gathered my purse and exited the visitor room. Grant was waiting for me by the door.
“Dammit. That didn’t go well.”
Grant stood and grabbed my wrist, tugging me toward the door. “No, Mia. It went perfectly. Don’t you see?”
“See what? What are you talking about? He’s destroyed, and I just basically told him that the only family he has left isn’t really his family at all. Of course he’d be upset.”
“Yeah. And he reacted by accusing me of killing Tiffany.”
“No, he didn’t. He didn’t say that.”
“He didn’t have to. He was looking right at me when he said it.”
Grant was right. Joaquín had seemed to imply that Grant was involved. But I would never believe that, either. They were both innocent. They had to be.
Grant led me out of the jail. Once safely inside his truck, he snapped.
“Wake the fuck up, Mia. J
oaquín is hiding something from you. I’m not sure what. But he knew about Julián. Now, he’s freaking out about a DNA test. Don’t you get it? He either killed Tiffany or he’s involved somehow in the kidnapping of our son.”
“No! How could you say that? He clearly name dropped Julián to alert us to his presence. He obviously knew that he had been kidnapped but was trying to protect him.”
Grant sped down the freeway. “How the fuck would he even know Julián wasn’t Tiffany’s kid, Mia. What? He just saw a picture of the boy and thought to himself, ‘Wow, that kid looks like my sister’s baby that I didn’t know she had! I should keep this a secret but also drop ambiguous clues. That’s a great idea!’ Seriously? Wake. The. Fuck. Up. You’re so fucking blinded by your love for him, you aren’t seeing what is right in front of you.”
I had absolutely no response for that. I didn’t have the answers and I refused to follow his logic or reasoning.
“He’s not who you think he is. He hasn’t been for years. I protected you, but it’s time for you to learn the truth. Joaquín wasn’t a saint—we now know he used drugs. He also fucked a bunch of women and always treated them like shit; he always had secrets. We all have secrets. It wasn’t my place to tell you, but now we need to examine the facts.
“So he partied hard, who cares? You’re no saint, either. He just told me you fucked a bunch of women too while we were broken up. Emma at the strip club told me the same thing.”
“Who gives a flying fuck how many women I slept with when we were broken up. You left me and we weren’t together, that’s what breaking up means. And I never treated them like shit. They were meaningless hookups I had trying to get over you.”
Whatever. He was right but that wasn’t the point. “He didn’t kidnap our son! And he’s not a murderer.”
Grant reached across my lap and turned my face toward him, gripping my chin in his hand.
“No, Mia. That’s where you’re wrong. We’re SEALs, that’s what we do. Joaquín is a killer, and so am I.”
Crave (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 5) Page 3
