The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  A fucking knife through my heart would have hurt less than hearing those words from her.

  Surrender she had, but not in the way I wanted most.

  Reluctantly I released her, allowing myself one last low glide of my hands over the curve of her hips. She made a low sound in her throat that sounded like she was holding back a sob. Regret sliced into me as I watched her stumble toward her friend. He threw his arms around her, and she sagged into him.

  ‘You’re a dead man, Acenado,’ was the fierce look he gave me over her bowed head.

  ‘Already there,’ was the look I gave him in return. Everything I ever needed had been yanked away from me. I’d experienced that feeling before. But this time it was my own fucking fault.

  “MJ,” Mike spoke softly but firmly to get her attention, bringing his hands to her upper arms and squeezing them. “Can you make it to the front alone?”

  She lifted her head. Her back was to me. I couldn’t see her pretty face, but I saw her shoulders go back and her spine straighten. “Of course.”

  “Run along then, pretty girl,” he told her while my fingers curled into my palms. “Juaquin and I need to have a little chat.”

  I was pissed, but not at her. At myself. At how badly I had screwed things up this time. It twisted my gut watching her walk away from me. My eyes burned as they followed her. My throat choked on words that might have called her back.

  Her heels cracked against the tile as she turned the corner. My resolve to let her go cracked right along with it. Every single cell inside of me shouted, ‘Go get her back!’

  “I should kick your ass for this, Acenado.”

  “You’re welcome to try.” I snapped my gaze away from the spot where I had last seen her. Quite honestly I had forgotten him. Nothing ranked in comparison to her. I arched a taunting brow. My hands forming tighter fists, my anger had a new direction beyond myself now.

  “But that would be going too easy on you.” He cocked his head to the side as he studied me. “I’m afraid you might get the idea that your ass kicking let you off the hook for how you treated her.”

  Regret crashed over me, washing away the anger and replacing it with self-loathing. Jorge’s advice. My actions. Mike’s words. They all merged together in my guilty mind until instead of the empty spot where I had last seen Miriam, I pictured her the way she had looked the night that asshole Zackary had cornered her.

  Had what I done been any different?

  Ay, Dios mio. I raked a shaky hand through my hair replaying how things had just gone between us.

  “I didn’t force her to kiss me, Vox.” I’d never had a sweeter one, never tasted sweeter lips. She had been a willing participant. It had been the holding onto her afterward that had been heavy-handed. I had to apologize for that, for coming on too strong, for being too insistent, for expecting her to acknowledge my claim too soon.

  Sometimes you have to give someone some space so they have the freedom to figure out the truth you already know.

  “Maybe not,” he allowed. “But you sure as shit took advantage.” Mike’s accusation made my body jerk. “I won’t ask you exactly what happened. She’ll tell me everything later. But man up already. I mean seriously. Grow a pair.” His eyes bored holes into me. “Find a way to be at least a figment of the hero she thinks you are or get the hell out of her life for real. She deserves better than the crumbs you’ve been feeding her.” His voice was rough. What had she told him about us? Did she feel about me even a tenth of what I felt for her? Improbable, if not impossible. Not that intensity of feelings had ever been the problem for either of us.

  “If you don’t think you’re good enough for her then make yourself better.” I froze solid. It was like he saw inside my head. “Get your shit together or get gone. Because if you ever treat her the way you did here tonight I promise you that even though I’m not from your old neighborhood, I can and will administer a Southside style beating of your ass.”

  • • •

  Miriam

  “What the hell happened tonight, MJ?”

  I dropped my chin to my chest. I’d already been through the ringer once, fielding some pretty intense questions from Frank on the drive home. I had come clean. I had told him about King and me. My crush. His rejections being the catalyst for where I found myself in life now. He had been understanding. Too understanding maybe. After all, if he really cared about me wouldn’t he be angrier about me revealing my feelings for another man?

  “A lot happened, Mikey.” I touched the tip of my tongue to my lips where the taste of Juaquin still lingered. Without consciously meaning to I brought my fingers up to my mouth, keenly aware that none of the heat that kiss had generated remained.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press. He patted the spot beside him on the couch. No massage oils on the coffee table today. Instead two bowls brimming with scoops of rocky road. Serious intervention.

  “I do,” I admitted, dropping my clutch in the entry table basket that served as a catchall before crossing over to him. The cushions dipped as I took a seat. I twisted at the waist to unbuckle my sandals. “I’m sorry I deflected. Force of habit. I just got finished hashing things out with Frank.”

  “You mean dancing around the truth.” He shot me a knowing look before leaning forward and grabbing the ice cream.

  “To a degree, I guess,” I allowed. He gave me one bowl and hoarded the other for himself. I took a big spoonful from mine, savoring the rich flavor of the creamy chocolate before crunching down on a salty peanut. “Ahh,” I sighed. Ice cream. The best kind of therapy. Certainly more affordable than a shrink.

  “I’d say so, unless you told Frank just how you feel about Juaquin and that you kissed him tonight.”

  “How I used to feel about him,” I corrected. “And no, I didn’t tell him about the kiss. How did you know about it?” My spoon clattered against the bowl as I returned it to the coffee table.

  “I didn’t need anyone to tell me. It seemed pretty obvious. Your Latino friend insisted it was consensual. Not that he needed to clarify. I saw the truth of it in your expression. It’s on your face now, how you feel about him. Present tense.”

  I dropped my chin into my chilled hands and squeezed my eyes shut for a solitary moment remembering the warm glide of Juaquin’s lips on mine. His wet tongue in my mouth. The way he tasted, safe and dangerous at the same time.

  I opened them again. Mike eyed me carefully. “Now you wanna tell me what’s really going on? You look like you did when you were with him earlier.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Like someone who feels strongly but is scared and uncertain about those feelings.” He frowned. “Did I read it wrong? He was holding you so tightly. Don’t tell me he hurt you.”

  I swallowed. It had felt so good being held by him, so so good. Until the old arrogance surfaced, I had been coasting along on lofty currents, my lips buzzing and my mind hazy. That had ended abruptly when he made it quite clear that the kiss that had meant so much to me had been only a trifle to him. Then I had wanted to be anywhere other than in his arms where he could easily see how much his disinterest wounded me.

  “He did,” I confessed.

  “I knew it. I’ll kill him.” Mike stood. I grabbed his hand.

  “Not the way you think. Not physically. And not on purpose. Not really. It’s just the same old story with us.” Only now I had that kiss to get over in addition to all the rest. “I don’t mean enough to him. I’ll never mean enough to him. Not ever as much as he means to me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  King

  “What?” I scowled at Jorge for interrupting my workout, putting my gloves on the speed bag to stop the motion while blinking the sting of salt from my eyes.

  “I said it’s late, man. Don’t you wanna grab something to eat before we go to the studio?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Go ahead and get something without me. I’m gonna see if I can find someone to spar
with me.” I needed to let out some of the frustration. I hadn’t slept worth shit wondering what she was doing, and worse who she might be doing it with.

  Jorge shot me an irritated glance but took off without hassling me anymore. We had already had a tense morning. His advice regarding Miriam had been misguided to say the least. I had tried things the heavy-handed way, and it had backfired. Miriam wasn’t like other women. That shit wouldn’t work with her. I would have to figure out a better approach. To clear my mind, I jumped rope. I sparred with some badass who knocked the breath out of me twice. I didn’t track the hours. By the time I packed my bag and got ready to leave it was noon. But I still had no clue what to do about her.

  “Yo, hermano.” I set my drumsticks down in the middle of a lengthy drum fill when I saw Sager’s caller ID light up my cell. “¿Qué pedo?” What’s up? “Is everything alright?”

  “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

  I let out a breath. “You first.”

  “Well, we’re all moved into the condo. Blue’s at Black Cat putting the finishing touches on the album she cut with the Jones twins. I thought maybe I would come out to Vegas and join you for a while, if that would be cool.”

  “¡A huevo!” Hell, yeah. Warmth inside my heart spread throughout my chest. It meant a lot to me for him to make that concession, to be away from Melinda for my sake. But then I remembered Miriam, her being here, her secret. I trusted mi hermano not to say anything to Bryan, but would she have that same level of faith in him? And did I really need to give her another reason to be guarded around me? “But…”

  “Let me take a one-word guess what that ‘but’ means. Jorge.”

  “No, man. That’s not it at all. He and I well…” I trailed off. “I’ve just got some stuff going on that I’m trying to work through.”

  “What kind of stuff?” I could hear the frown in his voice. “Are you in trouble?” The casualness to his tone disappeared. He sounded instantly alert. “You know I can be there in a couple hours. I told you that before you left. If you had only hung back a few days, I would have ridden shotgun out there with you.”

  The warmth in my chest spread throughout my entire body. My brother’s declaration melted more of the frost between us. It also unfroze my tongue. “I ran into Miriam.”

  “Come again? What’s she doing in Vegas?”

  “I’m not really at liberty to say. Not if I don’t want her more angry at me than she already is. But if you’d keep things totally on the QT even from Bluebelle I could really use some advice.”

  “You got it,” he cut in without me having to explain any further. “You know I’ve always got your back. So lay it on me. How’d you piss her off?”

  “Well,” I hesitated. “I kissed her.”

  • • •

  Miriam

  “You need to kick your leg higher on the last part.”

  “But I’m tired,” Trinity whined.

  “You’d be less tired if you added endurance training to your workouts.”

  “If you mean some running, I think you should know I despise it.”

  “Running’s not that bad.” I actually liked it. Needed it really. The rhythmic pace of my breathing. My shoes skimming the ground eating up pavement. The endorphin high to counteract life’s disappointments. Like the letdown of kissing your high school crush only to realize that it didn’t mean shit to him.

  “I guess I could do the treadmill.” She made a face. “Not a big fan of the outdoors. Too many bugs. Too much dust here in the desert.”

  “Fort Worth isn’t dusty?”

  “Nah. Just hot. The only time I ran outside back in Texas is when they had the semiannual sale on shoes at Nordstrom.”

  “Ah. I can relate to that. We have Nordstroms here in Nevada, too.”

  “Steve Madden stilettos.” She sighed.

  “Sam Edelman sandals.” I put my hands to my chest and rolled my eyes back in my head as if in the throes of ecstasy.

  She laughed. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.” She studied me closely. “Much better than you were the other night at the hotel with that Hispanic guy.”

  “Juaquin Acenado.” I filled in.

  “I didn’t catch his name.” She shrugged. “Didn’t care to. He had lots of cash and a huge cock.” She batted her eyelashes for effect, and I deflated like a balloon that had suddenly come loose at the knot, my endorphins leaking out and dispersing in the air. I so didn’t want any specifics on how she knew his dimensions.

  “Uh, um. I think I’ll leave the routine to you from here.” I patted Trinity on the shoulder and moved quickly away. “I’ll be in the dressing room if anyone needs me.”

  I chastised myself for being upset as I padded from the stage and down the hall in my bare feet. I knew King’s reputation. I had absolutely no reason to expect that he hadn’t been with Trinity, Barbie and all the others who had gone to his room. But you wish he hadn’t, my inner voice chided. And it hurts knowing he did. Because there was still a small part of me that wanted to believe in fairy tales. Little nothing day dreams. Like King waking up one day and realizing that I was the one that he wanted all along, the way I had always wanted him.

  “Hey, why so glum?” Mike stood as I entered the dressing room. He was barefoot like me, but already had on the jeans he usually wore on stage. He shooed off the wardrobe attendant, a temporary replacement. Miss Sharon was on vacation in Hawaii. Nance paid her well, and we each supplemented her salary by giving her a percentage of our nightly tips. A wizard at applying pasties, sewing tassels and gluing on false eyelashes, she earned every penny. “Who is it? Frank? Jazz? Or the self-impressed Latino?”

  “Me.” I told him. “It’s me. Always wanting what I can’t have.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day with me. How I keep throwing myself at Juaquin. How I’m repeating the pattern I saw with my mother and father. How I set myself up to be rejected. How that’s all leftover baggage from my childhood. Right?” I had some self-awareness. I wasn’t totally clueless. “Why can’t I move on? What’s wrong with me? I mean I have Frank. He’s good looking. He’s understanding. He’s great, really.”

  “Sure, MJ. But knowing doesn’t make the disappointment go away. Come here.” Mike held open his arms, and I readily stepped into them.

  “Why do I feel like my boyfriend’s the consolation prize?”

  “If cold logic ruled our hearts we’d all be married to the guy with the biggest savings account,” he quipped, frowning at me when I failed to even crack a smile. “You’ll figure things out soon.” He tapped my lips. “Your smile’s been turned upside down since Acenado came to town. I want to see you happy again.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  King

  From the back of the club instead of my previous vantage in the middle, I watched the show. I’d bought out the entire club again. Only this time I’d left Jorge at the hotel.

  I was alone, the solitary observer of each routine.

  I had no interest in any of them save the last.

  Finally, Miriam appeared. I scooted forward to the edge of my seat. Mi reina.

  Queen had no bath basin tonight, just a stage full of flickering candles and another barely-there dress. So beautiful. So sexy. So above all the others. She stole my breath and captured my gaze. She might have taken much more of me though I wasn’t ready to admit it quite yet.

  The music started, a heavy on the percussion instrumental piece that made me grin from my shadowed position in the dimly lit room.

  She started as she had begun the other night, her back toward her singular audience. The flicker of lights flirted with the curves and the contours of her sexy hourglass shape. Her bared arms held over her head. The tendrils of her hair. The graceful hollow of her neck. The valley between her luscious breasts. The dip in her waist. The subtle shadow between her thighs. The slender length of her legs. I swallowed as she moved enticingly. My cock stiffened, a drop of lubricant on the head that had no chan
ce to extinguish the fire as I watched her reveal herself. Inch by inch. Curve by curve. Sweet mother of all that is holy, she was glorious, and I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anyone.

  My fingers tightened around the bottle of Maestro Dobel on my table, I lifted it, brought it to my mouth and threw back another liberal dose. More fuel to flame the inferno she had already stoked. Undressing. Unveiling herself piece by maddening piece. Undoing me. Making me crazy with lust and confirming my commitment to see her and straighten things out between us before this night was over.

  • • •

  Miriam

  I knew Juaquin was the only one out there. I felt his gaze on me. His lust. As I danced alone on the stage, I felt the connection between my longing and his desire in a way that I had never experienced.

  Tonight, it wasn’t about mechanics and memorized moves. Normally indifferent to the thoughts and needs of my audience, tonight I danced specifically for him.

  I had come to a decision even before Mike informed me King had bought out the club again. Why he had come here again, I wasn’t exactly sure, but he wasn’t going to catch me off guard. This all might be a game to him. There might have been something more to it at one time if he ever would have acknowledged it. But, whatever. Whichever way things might have gone between us, if they went forward from here it would be on my terms.

  Back in my dressing room, I had my robe tightly belted around me. I waited for him to show. I had sent Trinity to his table with a message. The other girls dressed quickly, a flurry of movements heightening my nervous anticipation. After they had all gone I began to pace the length of the small space…until finally he appeared.

  “Miriam,” he called my name from the doorway, his amber gaze sweeping over me. “You summoned?” He arched a brow.