“What do you think we need?”
“I need to prove I’m strong, that I’m worthy of you just as much as you need to release yourself fully to me. The reasons why are more complex and full of deeper meanings. Control and Submission. Two sides to one coin. You sense my need, and you want to fill it. You’re tired of always being so strong for everyone else. You want to be vulnerable, but only with someone you know deep down inside would never betray that trust.”
“Juaquin, I do trust you.”
“Miriam.” His eyes ignited like a wildfire, and his nostrils flared. “You honor me with that trust.” His palm flexed on my chest reminding me that he was in control. “Lay back again.” I nodded. Obeying now was easier. “Let me show you what you mean to me.” As I lowered myself he followed me down. A dance, one that felt choreographed though we had never practiced it before. Arms on either side of me, he crawled over me, his hard thigh becoming a rough intrusion between my legs and his sculpted chest teasingly close to the tips of my breasts. I clamped my knees around his thigh and arched my back. I needed stimulation of my breasts and my clit, but I felt a sharp tug at my wrists that prevented further movement on my part. I glanced away from him, turning my head to try to see what he had done.
“You’re tied to the fence post, Reina. You must hold still or the neighbors will hear you struggling.”
“Alright.” I gulped, imaging what he might do to make me struggle within my bonds. My gaze met his. As if he could read my mind, his lips curved slowly. He lowered his head. He blew a warm gust of air over my lips. They tingled as I licked then parted them. He ignored my invitation. His head lowered to a new target. Another humid current of air fell from his mouth. I pulled in a broken breath as the tip of my breast peaked even tighter. Desperate now to feel the weight of his body bearing down on me, eager to have him move things along faster, I tested the surety of my restraints but only managed to rattle the plastic bonding my hands to the metal post. I drew in another shuttering intake of breath as he subjected my other breast to the same torturous treatment. A rush of hot anticipation slicked my inner thighs as he moved lower. I throbbed. I ached. I lifted my hips closer to his hovering mouth.
“Hold still,” he ordered, and I did, but the effort made me tremble.
“Please. Please.” I pleaded. “Please put your mouth on me.”
“I might. It depends.” His lips still hovering too far from where I needed them, his gaze lifted. “How long can you hold out, my queen? One beat?” His eyes melded with mine. “Two?” His gaze dipped to my breasts. I preened for him. Lifting them. They felt so full. So sensitive. I might come if he only just strummed the aching tips. “Three?” He lowered his head slowly, slowly, slowly. “You’re incredible,” he breathed over my pussy. I shuddered when he finally gave me the dark kiss I desired, and then I came only a moment later. Like the tide, I erupted in a flood of pleasure, and he rode the wave with me licking every single drop from me.
• • •
King
I’d never been more turned on watching the way she looked as she came. That’s why I already had the condom on and why I had placed the switchblade right beside where I had tethered her. Tremors were still rolling through her when I cut her loose from her bonds and split her legs wide with my knee.
“Mi reina. Open your eyes.” Her lids fluttered. I recaptured her hands. They remained well above her head. “Look at me.”
Her eyes still pleasure glazed, she didn’t even try to break free. Satisfaction blazed through me as she stretched lazily and gifted me with a slow sublime smile.
I rewarded her and myself by aligning my cock and sliding it into her.
“Juaquin,” she breathed. “You feel so good when you’re inside me.”
“Good can be even better.” I threaded our fingers together. I wasn’t going to be able to draw this out long. Lucky for me she seemed to be with me.
She let out a low moan of protest as I pulled almost all the way out and then released a hiss of pleasure as I plunged deep inside her. I did it again, pulsing our palms together while I rode her.
“Mmm.” She shivered. “Don’t stop.” I had absolutely no intention of stopping, but I was past talking. I repeated what had earned her moan before, slipping out and sliding in. She felt so wet. So hot. So tight around my cock.
Shallow fuck. Deep fuck. Grind. Repeat. Take her here. Take her hard. Take her fast. Frantic now, I started hammering my cock inside her. She chanted my name.
“King. Oh King.” She was where I wanted her. And I was just where I wanted to be, inside her so, so deep. The burning tension at the base of my spine unraveling, I gave it to her rough. Her body strained to keep pace. I thrust hard a final time. My cock stiffened. I spilled into the condom. She opened her mouth to scream her own release. I covered her mouth with my own, swallowing the sound of her pleasure as I kissed her deeply.
After our tremors receded, I pulled out, disposed of the condom, fell to my back exhausted and tucked her into my side. She placed her hand on the center of my chest and let out a contented sigh. I grabbed a blanket and threw it over us. She snuggled closer.
Captivated by her and by the fact that she made me feel so much just holding her like this, I sifted my fingers through the thick layers of her silky hair. “Miriam,” I began.
“Hmm,” she replied sleepily.
“What I said earlier, I meant it. Every word. You’re mine. I’m yours. I don’t want you going back to the jobs you had before or worrying about money from now on. Ok?”
I felt her muscles tighten.
“You and me, that’s all that matters.”
“I don’t disagree. But I’m tired, Juaquin. Can we talk about this later? I just want you to hold me for a while.”
“Alright, Reina. Shhh,” I soothed willing her stiff body to relax. “I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Miriam
I woke up back in King’s room. He must have scooped me up and carried me back inside at some point. I must have been completely out of it. Melinda was gone, her bed made up. The midday sun streamed in between the slats in the metal blinds making an interesting pattern on the red roses that adorned every available surface in the room. The nightstand. The two footlockers at the head of each bed. The floor. The dresser. I sat up. The mirror atop it reflected my astonishment. I pulled my hair away from my eyes and blinked through the tears that sprang into them. As if last night hadn’t already been beyond incredible, now he had gone and done something this. How, how was I ever going to let him go?
No immediate remedy came to mind.
I shuffled down the hall to the bathroom. The house was silent. When I returned to the bedroom after my shower I noticed a handwritten note I had somehow missed before.
Miriam,
Gone to the hospital with everyone to check on my father.
You slept through migas. I’ll take you out to dinner tonight to make up for it.
Be back soon,
Juaquin
Swoon.
My cell jangled where I had plugged it in to charge on top of the dresser. I set the note aside, scooped up my phone and answered it assuming it would be who I hoped it to be.
“Hello, Miss Jackson.”
It wasn’t, and it took me a moment to place the voice.
“Miss Pennington?” Vincenzo’s personal assistant.
“Hold please,” she said. “I’m putting on Mr. Campanella’s attorney now.”
Shit.
“Hello, Miss Jackson. Rob Wiley. Mr. Campanella wanted me to speak with you before we proceed with the charges.”
“Charges? What charges? Against who?” My empty stomach clenched.
“Assault charges against Mr. Juaquin Acenado.”
“No.” The room swayed. I dropped to the bed. “He didn’t…” Well, he did I guess. “But there were extenuating circumstances.”
“I already did a little preliminary work.” He ignored my paltry and inadequate prote
st. “Unfortunately, it appears that Mr. Acenado has a prior record of this type of thing.”
“As a juvenile.”
“Yes, but given his recent arrest and a conviction for possession of an illegal substance.” He made a tsking sound. “A good lawyer can convince the court to have those records unsealed.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Do you doubt our ability to do so?”
“No. But you won’t need to do that. I’m giving Mr. Campanella what he wants. Remind him of that. I don’t understand why he’s doing this.”
“Mr. Campanella hasn’t forgotten the affront to his person, and you’re in no position to dictate what he might or might not do, Miss Jackson. I’ve only phoned you as a courtesy. And to advise you that further association with someone so prone to violence may result in rather unpleasant personal ramifications.” Juaquin or Vincenzo. That thinly veiled threat could have applied to either man.
“I don’t care what happens to me. Mr. Campanella was hurting me. Juaquin was defending me. He thought I was in danger. That your boss was a threat. My best friend witnessed the whole thing. If Mr. Campanella doesn’t want all of the details brought to light in a legal setting, he will drop the charges.”
“There will be no bargaining or negotiating terms, Miss Jackson. Charges will be filed. Do whatever you feel you must. Though opposing Mr. Campanella would be very foolish indeed.” There was a pause. I heard a voice in the background on his end of the line. My blood ran cold. The puppeteer pulling the strings. “You’re fortunate that my employer prefers to bring the matter before a judge. Others in his family might have chosen a more…direct approach.” He hung up, and I knew why Campanella had his lackey call me. He wanted me to acknowledge the bind he had me in. Backed into a corner with no options except to do exactly what he wanted me to do.
Last night. Juaquin. His face before he had kissed me. His focus. His concern. His love. The things he had helped me realize. It had been like the pieces of my fractured self had finally come together properly. Not that any of that mattered anymore.
They would all fly apart again soon.
A throat cleared. I lifted my gaze. Abuelita sat in her chair in the hallway. How much had she heard? Enough apparently to be concerned. “My grandson called.” She cocked her head to the side. “He asked me to check on you. To see if you were awake.”
“I am,” I informed her inanely and swiped the tears away with the back of my hand.
“Chiquita, why are you crying?”
Shit.
“I…because…no reason.” I dove my eyes to the floor before they could betray me.
She made a disbelieving sound. I was a shit liar. It was a wonder my family hadn’t already figured out the web of falsehood I had woven.
“Can I help you with something?” I stood and willed the blood to flow back to my brain so I could try to think coherently and find a way out of my predicament.
“Perhaps I can help you.”
Unlikely, so very unlikely. “How so?”
“I heard part of your conversation. Something about charges and lawsuits.”
“Yes. Well. It was a wakeup call for me. It’s time for me to stop being a foolish little girl who believes in childish things.”
“Such as?”
“In dreams coming true,” I replied vaguely. In happiness and completion like I had found with Juaquin being something I could hold onto. “The usual things mothers tell their daughters when they should be preparing them for harsh reality instead.”
“Should they, mijita? In Southside? Where hope is needed most?” She wheeled her chair closer and handed me a tissue. “I don’t believe so. Tears cannot change reality. Nor can railing against it. Neither can running from it or denying that it exists. But perhaps love can reshape it. I believe love is the only thing that can.”
“Love only makes things worse.” I grabbed a tissue from the box on the dresser, dabbed my cheeks with it then crossed to the trash receptacle to throw it away.
“I must disagree. Come sit down, and I will tell you how I know these things to be true.”
“Alright.” I moved to sit on the bed beside where she had wheeled her chair.
“In this very room love made a difference.” I froze. “Yes, between Juaquin and Sager. Two teenage boys both so lost. Both so hurt. Each had lost a brother, but in each other they found hope.”
“Yes, I know. But…”
“I have buried a child, mijita. A husband and a grandson. So I know something about life’s cruelty. And for a long while I was afraid I would lose Juaquin, too.” She lifted her eyes. They were filled with emotion. “He worshipped his brother, adored him though Adrian like every older brother pretended it was a hardship to have him forever at his heels. Juaquin was at a tender age, not quite a boy anymore but not yet a man either when the police came to our door with their terrible news. Offering neither sympathy nor kindness, they interrogated all of us for hours, then afterward Juaquin went along with his father to the hospital to identify the body. That day broke both their hearts and damaged their relationship in a way that I feared would never heal. That hadn’t even begun to heal, until you came along.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You have. You spoke the words we have all spoken to Juaquin about his father. But when you spoke them he finally heard.” Her gaze delved deep. “So you see? Reality can be reshaped. Love can conquer despair.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
King
Something had happened while I had been at the hospital. Something between my grandmother and my queen. Abuelita looked a little guilty to me while Miriam seemed noticeably withdrawn. I had my suspicions. My grandmother spoke truths straight from her heart. It could be unsettling if you weren’t accustomed to it.
Had she embarrassed Miriam by mentioning that she had seen me carrying her back to my room near dawn?
Had she revealed how reluctant I had been to leave Miriam behind even if only for a few hours to see my father?
Or had she told her about the conversation between my mother and me where I had spoken about my elaborate plans for tonight and the reason behind them, one that I wasn’t entirely sure Miriam was ready to hear.
Across the kitchen table from me, Miriam had not once lifted her head. She sat still as a statue seemingly unaware of the bustle around her. My abuelita pressed masa balls into homemade tortillas. My mother hummed softly as she fried them. Sager manned the sizzling meat. His pixie chopped the condiments at the counter nearby, despite her disability she hardly let that hinder her in any way anymore.
“Miriam,” I called, and she looked up finally regarding me though her grey-green eyes lacked their usual sparkle. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head in denial, but I knew it for a lie. That much was obvious. A sudden sheen glassed her eyes. Was it my grandmother then or was it just us? How could the idea of us be wrong for her when everything about it felt so right to me?
I reached for her hand. “Talk to me,” I whispered keeping my voice low. “We can go somewhere private if you’d like.”
“No, it’s ok. I…” Her words ended as her cell suddenly rang. “I better get that.” She withdrew her hand from beneath mine. She glanced down at the screen, looking surprised and relieved as she put it to her ear. “Mom,” she said, then paused to listen. “No. I mean yes we were together on the plane, but it’s not like you think.” Her eyes widened. She paled. “Ok. Yes, it was. No, the FAA didn’t give us a citation. I find it hard to believe that me having sex with Juaquin inside a plane lavatory is really newsworthy.” A spatula clattered to the counter. Sudden stillness seized the room. Though the meat still sizzled mi madre was no longer humming. My previous concerns were swept away in the wake of this new one. “No. I’m all grown up now, Mom. No, don’t. Please don’t. And tell Bry to stay the hell out of it.” Another pause to listen. “Yes, we’re at Juaquin’s house, but you know his father’s in the hospital. This isn
’t a good time.” She suddenly pushed back from her chair, a screech of unsettling noise before the more jarring one as the front door as the bell rang. “King, I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment dotted Miriam’s cheeks. “My mother and my brother. They’re here.”
• • •
Miriam
“Remove your hand from my arm,” King told Bryan in a lethally quiet voice. “And your elbow from my neck.” My brother had pinned him to the living room wall, but it was obvious to me even given what my eyes could see who had the upper hand. “Do it now, cabrón. The only reason you’re not on your fucking ass right now is because it would upset mi mujer, and because your head is too close to mi madre’s vase with the holy water from Lourdes.”
“You’re a fucking asshole, Juaquin.” My brother barked. I had never seen him so livid. But he knew King could best him, and that he wasn’t joking around. Both men were deadly serious. “And my sister is not your woman. Don’t sugar coat it. You fucked her in a plane restroom. You’ve made her out to be no better than one of your whores.”
There were several gasps from the kitchen’s threshold where everyone else lingered witnessing the four primary players in this sordid scene.
“Miriam Diana Jackson.” My mother rang in. “How could you?” Tears welled in her eyes. “Everyone in America and probably half the whole world for that matter has seen the videos by now. And believe me they made their judgments. They think you’re a slut. Once something’s on the internet, it will never go away. You can never erase a horrible mistake like this once you’ve made it.” Something sad that I chose to see only as her disapproval of me darkened the shadows within her eyes. “That’s not who you are. That’s not the way I raised you.”
“You didn’t raise me much at all.” Her continual disappointment galled me. Bry, her heart. Ann, her pride and joy, and me, her problem. “I raised myself, and you know it. I also mostly raised Ann too while you went to nursing school and worked all those late hours.”
The Complete Tempest World Box Set Page 177
