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He’d woundhis fist in her hair and yanked her head back far enough she was staring at bright blue sky while he drove into her from behind.
Her breasts bounced against the low concrete wall of the penthouse rooftop in rhythm with his thrusts. He’d ripped off her bikini top and flung it onto a chaise lounge, out of reach.
He bit her neck. Another mark she’d have to cover with concealer.
“You enjoy this as much as I do, querida.” The hand that held her hip in a bruising grip traveled up her naked body to cup one breast. He squeezed. Hard.
“I love your breasts.” Hot breath blasted in her ear. “Not plastic like so many women in Miami.”
“Gia.” Caleb’s voice cut through her memory like a scalpel. Sharp. Commanding.
She blinked, shaken, as the present snapped back into focus.
His hands were gone. The desire in his face replaced by concern.
His eyes searched hers, seeing through clear to her soul. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She’d ruined the moment.
“Hey.” He caught her hands and gently placed them back on his chest. “Did I do something wrong?”
Humiliation shriveled her insides and blurred her vision. “It’s nothing.”
“Sweetheart.” His voice was gentle. Soothing. “What did he do?”
She searched his face, finding no judgement. “He liked to pull my hair during…”
It was more than that, but the words stayed locked inside her throat. She hadn’t minded rough sex, even a little kink. Vincente always took it past her boundaries.
As his cousin watched. She knew he did. Maybe Vincente’s other men did, too. Because he liked to have sex where someone might see.
Caleb’s voice roughened. “Next time, and therewillbe a next time”—a vow she felt clear to her toes—“we’ll go slow. Promise me you’ll let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
The tears she’d been trying to keep at bay broke free and trickled down her cheeks. “I want to. Do it again. With you.”
Even knowing she risked losing her heart. She wanted Caleb’s hands on her.
Wanted him inside her.
“Please,” her voice cracked, “I need you to erase his touch.”
His gaze flared with heat and a promise that clenched low in her belly. “Oh babe, don’t doubt it. I’m going to erase him from every inch of your body and every corner of your mind.”
Light filled the darkness in her soul and firmed her resolve. It was only a matter of time before Vincente or one of Espina Negra’s assassins caught up with her. Even if she only had a week left with this man, she wanted the memories to sustain her for as long as she had left.
Caleb caught one of the tears staining her cheeks with his thumb.
“Vincente Lopez Garcia is a dead man.”
Chapter Seventeen
Calebwasgoingtokill Lopez. Jail wasn’t good enough.
Not for what he’d done to Gia.
She had an inner core of steel that Caleb admired the hell out of. Like him, she’d escaped a troubled childhood and made herself into someone respected by others. She’d bent beneath her former lover’s abuse, but she hadn’t broken. Her soft, caring heart was as big as ever, as was her determination to serve.
He’d seen yesterday how she treated her patients—her persistence in arranging the necessary care, her lack of judgment when they didn’t, or couldn’t, follow her recommendations. Her job at the medical clinic might have started out as a refuge, a place to hide, but it was obvious she’d fallen in love with the Navajo people she lived and worked with. For her, leaving would be a tragedy, not a relief.