The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Don’t know who you are.” King cast me a glance that had more than one question in his eyes. Oh, hell. Did he think Vincenzo was a romantic rival? “But you need to remove your hands from my girlfriend before I remove your head from your fucking body.”

  Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Garner emerge from the car. His strides quick and sure, his hands unbuttoning his jacket, he made ready to address the threat to his employer. Behind me the screen door creaked. Mike was weighing in. He totally knew who Campanella was and what he was capable of doing.

  Juaquin had misread the situation. But he saw the fear in my eyes. And he acted on it. Just like he had all those years ago in the alley behind Footit’s when Zackary had threatened me.

  He grabbed Vincenzo, spun him around and shoved, sending him sprawling onto the gravel landscaping.

  “No,” I gasped. My fear of Campanella overcome by my terror for Juaquin, I sprang into action placing myself between King and Vincenzo. Arms wide, I held one hand up to Garner and the other to Mike. Both stopped in their tracks, probably because of their surprise at the sheer audacity of my move. I mean, my hands certainly weren’t going to stop bullets from ripping apart flesh.

  Chest heaving to accommodate my rapid breaths and hammering heart, I swung my gaze to the mob boss. No matter what King had done, I knew who had all the power. Campanella held the lives of everyone I cared about within the palms of his corrupted hands.

  “Oh my.” The mobster grinned and picked himself up off the gravel. “It seems you have a very jealous boyfriend. One who has mistaken me for another suitor. And one you care about very deeply I can see.” He lifted his gaze to his bodyguard. Had his hired gun moved an imperceptible step closer? “Stand down Garner. I am unscathed. And we can’t really blame a man for protecting what’s his, can we? My apologies.” He extended his hand to Juaquin. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Vincenzo. Miriam’s employer. Jasmine’s father.”

  Juaquin glanced at me, his breathing nearly as ragged as my own, his temper barely restrained. I silently pleaded for him to acknowledge the offer of a truce. He swung his attention back to Campanella. Every coiled muscle in his body radiated tension, but miraculously he reached out and clasped the other man’s hand. The handshake was brief and firm and then it was done. Held breaths were audibly released. Well, mine and Mike’s at least.

  “Miss Jackson, I will see you at work on Monday. One week from today.” Campanella pulled down on his jacket and brushed imaginary lint from his trousers. Whew. That was exactly the amount of time off from work that I had asked for. “You will begin training for the new position immediately upon your return.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  King

  Heavy traffic made us late to the airport, and some eager fans who recognized me at the security check held us up even more. We barely made it on the plane before it took off.

  “Miriam,” I began as the plane gained altitude, but she interrupted.

  “Mike will take good care of the Hummer.”

  “I wasn’t worried about your lead footed best friend being in charge of my H1 Alpha Wagon for the week, I’m worried about you. You do realize Jasmine’s father is Mafia?”

  “Yes.” She glanced down, mangling the First Class lunch menu she held in her hands. “He owns the Tropicana and several other properties on the strip.” She lifted her gaze. “As much as I love my city, there aren’t many places to work that are free from the mob’s influence.”

  “I get that. Sure. But I don’t like him coming to your home. Touching you. He was hurting you. Do you deny it?”

  “No.” She shook her pretty head. “It’s not cool what he did. And I’m going to quit working for him.” The mangled menu shredded in her frantic grip. “But I need to say goodbye to Jazz before I do.”

  “Good. I don’t want you associating with people like him.” The inflight announcements came on, interrupting me from questioning her further about her employer. Something about the guy seemed familiar to me.

  “How about you and Jorge? Why are you friends with a guy like that?”

  “He’s from Southside. We have a history. We understand each other, I guess.”

  “He’s your supplier you mean,” she said low.

  “There’s that. But it’s only weed Miriam. It’s legal in a lot of states. I don’t do hard core shit. None of us do after what went down with Lace.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. But he’s not exactly a real friend like my Mike or Sager is he?”

  “No. He’s La Raza Prima. I’m not. He reminds me of that often enough. If I had been a true brother he would have made sure that I never got convicted of possession in the first place.”

  “Could he really do that?”

  “Sí. The arrest happened in Southside. Plenty of the cops there take payment from La Raza Prima to look the other way and stay out of their business.”

  “What really happened that night?” she asked. “I read the accounts. Heard the speculation. They said you were at a backyard party at someone’s house. That it got rowdy. That the police got called.”

  “All true.” I nodded. “I officially got busted for possession. But it could have been worse. There was drinking at the party and underage girls that Jorge insisted had ID’s that looked legit. Timmons stepped in. Sweet talked the judge.”

  Miriam raised a brow.

  “Well, no, not really sweet talk. But she stood as a character witness for me. She testified that I represented a success story for Latinos in my community. That my juvenile record should be viewed in the light of my circumstances.”

  “Adrian.” She laid her hand on my arm.

  I nodded once in confirmation. Even now I rarely spoke his name or talked about the events surrounding his death. It hurt too much. It had happened before she and Bryan had come along, but everyone in Southside knew about it. Two rival gangs going at each other. An attempt on the La Raza Prima jefe. My brother murdered while defending him. The back and forth retaliations that followed. The interrogations. The cops hassling me and my family without any regard that we were grieving. Everyone in the neighborhood on a hair trigger.

  “Mary succeeded.” Miriam’s voice was noticeably thick, probably in response to the emotion I didn’t try to hide from her. “I didn’t hear or read anything about any other convictions besides the marijuana possession.”

  “Probation.” I nodded. “I’m still doing the community service stuff. And I have to stay clean and out of trouble for a year or they’ll revisit the whole thing again.” And Mary Timmons had given me her own ultimatum. If I screwed up again she would find Tempest another drummer.

  “You should stay away from Jorge.” Her brows creased. She started fidgeting with paper again. “I don’t trust him.”

  “You sound like Sager.”

  “Now him I do trust.”

  “Me, too, mi reina. But he doesn’t have a recording studio.” I covered her hands with my own, stopping her destruction of that damn menu. “Why don’t we talk about something else? Get some food. Maybe a couple of drinks.”

  “That sounds good.” She gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought all this up right now. You have enough to worry about with your father’s health. I should be comforting you not upsetting you.” She scooted closer, leaning over the arm rest to look at the options for lunch on the parts of the menu that were still legible.

  “You’re comforting me just by being here,” I told her honestly, stroking my fingers down her soft cheek. She sighed then relaxed, finally abandoning the menu in favor of the much better prize of my hand. Her lids lowered as I trailed my fingers down her neck, and then back and forth along the scooped neckline of her top.

  “Don’t,” she cautioned, her breath hitching when I took it a step further, dipping a finger into the valley between her breasts. “You’re getting me all turned on. And we can’t do anything here.”

  “I feel the
same way, but your skin is so soft and the sounds that you make when I touch you are a temptation I don’t want to resist.” My lips curved slowly. “How do you feel about having sex in an airplane restroom?”

  “Um with you…” She reached over and danced her fingers along my jawline. “Honestly, I would take you anywhere you would have me.”

  “But…”

  “Do I really need to explain?” She leaned over my armrest, giving me a good glimpse of her tantalizing tits before she made me crazy dipping her thumb into the seam between my lips. “A king and his queen, and a very tiny throne room.” She smiled coyly. “We’ll have to be creative.” Her voice went all throaty. “And very, very naughty.”

  And we were.

  As soon as the seatbelt light went off, I unlatched her belt and sent her up the aisle to the lavatory.

  I followed her in shortly after, as discretely as I could.

  I took care of her first, unfastening her shorts. Button by button, my eyes on her, watching her lick her lips in anticipation, I drew her panties down to her thighs and ate her. Fucking feasted on her. Then she took me on. The turbulence shook her as she sucked my cock, but it didn’t dampen her enthusiasm. It must be true what they say about high altitude intensifying the pleasure or maybe it was just watching her work my cock. There were several knocks and then a flight attendant’s hiss for us to get out, but we ignored them.

  I got so close I nearly spilled before I stopped her. “Babe, I love your mouth on me,” I told her, “but I prefer to finish inside you.” She released my dick after one last lingering lick that made me shudder. Our bodies rocked together for a moment as the plane hit a bump, then I turned her around to face the small sink. Her gaze met mine in the mirror as I hastily rolled on a condom, positioned her against the counter and slid into her perfect cunt from behind.

  “Fasten your seatbelt,” I warned, digging my grip into the flesh at her hips as I pulled almost all the way out and stroked all the way back inside her again. “You’re in for a bumpy ride.” My hands alternating between grabbing her hips and squeezing her tits, her cunt tightened around me. Both of us panting, she moaned my name, and I hammered harder. I reached between her legs and strummed her clit. Primed and slippery, so close I could feel it. She took everything I gave her. We rose together reaching for the heavens, straining, seeking, sharing, succumbing, fusing our bodies, on fucking fire. Then we were there, together her, ‘oh yes, yes, yes’ in tune with my low groans. She twisted her neck around and I fastened my mouth on hers, tasting us both and swallowing the aftershocks as we slowly drifted down again, and I indulgently, languidly stroked in and out of her as we settled back toward the earth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Miriam

  The plane had started its final descent as we exited the lavatory. Apparently we had not been as discrete as we imagined. It seemed as though all the passengers were watching us. There was a scattering of slow claps in the First Class cabin. We endured a tersely whispered reprimand from the flight attendant and more than a few suggestive comments.

  Not to mention several cell phone cameras trained on us.

  I ducked my head into King’s shoulder as he led the way. I scooted into our row latching my belt first. He slid in beside me.

  “Sorry about all that.” He gave me a sheepish look.

  “I’m not. It was worth it.”

  “We missed the inflight meal, though.”

  “We’ll grab something from a vending machine while we wait for the luggage.” A shadow suddenly fell over us. Some guy in a ball cap turned around backward had stopped in the aisle next to King. I recognized him as one of the Tempest fans we had run into earlier at the airport. He snapped a quick photo with his phone.

  King frowned.

  “Sir.” The flight attendant appeared and shooed him out of first class. “You’ll need to take your seat. We’re about to land.”

  “That happen often?” I asked Juaquin.

  “Some. Not enough that I’ve gotten used to it. Most people don’t recognize me as the drummer of Tempest outside a concert setting. But since I was on the Rock Fuck Club show I’m getting recognized a lot more often.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t a memorable experience. None of them before you has been. You were the one I wanted all along. The one I needed. You get that, don’t you? Without me having to say it?”

  ‘Sure.” I certainly felt that way about him, without a doubt. But it was too soon for me to make an assumption like that about my value to him. I glanced at my lap. I wasn’t ready to have a heavy conversation like this, not here and not now with everyone watching us like we were fish inside a bowl. Plus lingering concerns about Vincenzo Campanella had my stomach all jumbled. It bounced as the wheels suddenly touched down on the runway. As the plane slowed, Juaquin tucked his finger under my chin and lifted it. His eyes searched mine. “We can get into the who, what and how many details if you feel it’s necessary, Miriam.” His gaze was intense, his expression way serious. “But we don’t need to if you can believe me when I tell you that you’re the only who has ever mattered.”

  My heart latched onto his words. “Only you for me, too,” I admitted in a quiet whisper.

  “You know my track record when it comes to relationships. I haven’t had much luck holding on to the affection of those I care about. But I’m trying. Can you show me how? Can you be patient with me as I learn?” Without waiting for an answer, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine. Though it was a kiss I treasured, it was a brief one and underneath the joy that his words gave me unease lurked. It rose in the back of my throat as we arrived at the gate.

  Once in the terminal we followed the directional signs for baggage claim. Juaquin went to get us something to snack on while I waited for the carousel to start. I noticed the cap wearing fan who had taken the pictures on the plane watching me closely, but I forgot about him when King returned and the bags for our flight started feeding onto the rotating belt.

  “How are we getting to the hospital?” I asked after we had claimed our luggage.

  “I ordered a Lyft.”

  I nodded and lifted the handle on my bag, but King took it from me. He held out his free hand for me to hold. I liked that, liked that he was careful, considerate and protective of me. I stepped in front of him and stopped to kiss him because I could. Because I wanted to show him my appreciation. Because I knew, though I didn’t want to focus on it that my time with him might already be running out.

  I had put him in harm’s way with my boss. I feared he remained in danger no matter that Campanella had acted as though the affront were forgiven. And beyond that I would find myself in an untenable position when I returned to Vegas. Juaquin wouldn’t understand about me taking on a profession that would require me to go to bed with other men. And Campanella wouldn’t be understanding if I didn’t.

  I was the one who needed patience. I was the one likely to lose his affection, though I suspected Juaquin had been thinking of his father, Sager and maybe his brother when he had said what he had. I’d never considered that he might have felt responsible for Adrian’s death. But I knew he couldn’t have been because I knew him. He was a defender. He protected those he cared most for. He would have prevented Adrian’s death if it had been in his power. No, he had it all wrong, I decided. It was me who was unqualified to teach him anything about love.

  “Any word about how your dad’s doing?” My pitch sounded off as those thoughts tightened my throat, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “No. They haven’t done the procedure yet. But Sager and Melinda are there with him now. So is my mom and my abuelita. Everyone he cares about,” he tacked on at the end, and my heart hurt for him that he thought he wasn’t part of that group.

  And to add to the general awkwardness, it hadn’t really hit me until that moment that our arrival together at the hospital would result in a lot of questions. What were we going to tell everyone about us?
r />   CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  King

  “Everything ok?” I asked Miriam.

  Her text notifications had been going off incessantly since we got in the car and she turned her phone off airplane mode. She had practically licked her lips raw, and I knew it wasn’t because she was turned on. She was upset about whatever was contained in those texts and nervous about seeing everyone we knew with us being together. I didn’t want to get into all of that with the Lyft driver listening. Not that Miriam was paying attention to me anyway. She might not have the airplane menu to mangle, but if the metal and glass of her phone had been malleable it would have been twisted beyond recognition by now.

  “Huh.” Her eyes were dazed. “Ok with what?”

  “You’ve been typing on that thing nonstop since you turned it back on. I just wondered if everything is ok.”

  “Yes.” She attempted a smile, but it seemed more like a grimace.

  “But why…”

  “Asshole!” The vehicle lurched sideways into the next lane. “Jackass gave me the brake treatment because he thought I was following too close.” Our Lyft driver raised his fist as he passed the car that had been in front of us. The one he’d nearly hit. Thankfully soon after that close call, we arrived at the hospital. The driver swiveled around. “I popped the latch back there.”

  “Yeah? Thanks.” I felt like popping him, but he had gotten us there at least. I unlatched my seatbelt, exited my side, and jogged around to open Miriam’s door before grabbing our bags from the trunk. We’d have to take them with us up to my father’s room until we could sort out everything. Where we would spend the night and so forth. But there was the big matter of what to tell everyone about us. That needed to be addressed right now.