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19

MAXINE

Blood drags me up off the floor and holds me in his arms. Against my better judgment, I burrow into his chest and drink in the scent of his warm skin. He tightens his grip, and I savor the sense of security. I’d never been shown any physical affection as a child, and Hector reacted physically but never with affection. I’d learned to turn everything off when I’m with Hector and make it mechanical. Sadly, I’d never been hugged or held for real, and the simplicity of the act sends a shiver up my spine.

“You cold, baby?” Blood’s throaty voice whispers in my ear.

“No.” I wrap my arms around him, holding on for dear life. A desperate act using him as a lifeline—thinking how perfect it would be if we never had to move from this position. If the security I experienced at this moment never ended—but that isn’t reality, and it certainly isn’t my reality.

He gathers me closer, then effortlessly stands with me still in his arms. My legs automatically wrap around his hips as he staggers us into the bedroom. He kicks the door closed with his booted foot, then gently lays me on the bed.

His eyes never leave mine as he strips off his cut and t-shirt, then pushes his half-open jeans over his hips. Again, I marvel at his perfection, but when he crawls onto the bed, I sense something has shifted between us.

He peels my shorts over my legs, then pushes at my tank top until he has it off, flinging it behind him. He palms my breasts, tweaking them until the nipples pebble under his fingertips. He lowers his head and sucks in one and then the other, making me moan out and writhe against the mattress.

It’s completely different from the urgency of our past times together. He nudges me onto my stomach, and I try to resist, but he shakes his head. “I wanna see all of you.”

He traces the scars on my back first with his finger, and then with his tongue, gently laving each mark, each imperfection.

He leans into my ear. “When I’m done, you’re gonna tell me who did this to you, understand?”

I nod against the pillow because, in this moment, I want to tell him all my nasty truths. All the flaws that make up my life. He has me under his spell, where only the truth matters, and I’m helpless to resist his requests.

He rolls me over again, anchors my legs over his shoulders, then dives in without warning, teasing and nipping my clit. I ride his mouth with abandon, and when he sticks his tongue deep, I shatter into pieces, too weak to formulate words.

Blood shifts over the bed and rummages through the end table. My hazy eyes focus on him ripping a condom open with his teeth, then sheathing himself.

He knees my legs apart and settles between them. I cry out when he slides into my slick heat, arching my back to meet his thrusts.

“Harder, I need to feel you harder.”

His hips grind into mine, plunging deeper, filling every inch of me, and I love it. Tormenting and teasing me to another orgasm, another way to escape the ghosts haunting my brain. A way to forget how I have to deceive the only person who’s ever made me feel safe. He captures my body in a powerful way, yet I’m never afraid, never scared, knowing he won’t hurt me intentionally.

Even his earlier threat didn’t scare me. I don’t doubt he’d avenge the Bastards, but his tactics could never match Hector’s. Blood is a hard-ass biker who defends his club, but he has a code. I have no doubt he’d pull the trigger without a second thought for his brothers, but I’ve also seen how he genuinely cares for the street kids who roam the neighborhood around the gym, which tells me wouldn’t harm the weak or the unarmed.

Whereas Hector would kick, claw and stomp over anyone in his path, weak or strong, it makes no difference. He has no loyalty to anyone but himself, which makes him dangerous and out-of-control because nothing is off-limits, nothing is forbidden as long as he comes out on top.

Blood is fearless and tough. Hector is ruthless and vicious.

BLOOD

I brace my hands against the mattress, my hips grinding in and out, searching for my release—or searching for something I can never have—I don’t fuckin’ know at this point. I do know I’m not only screwing the enemy. I’m falling fuckin’ hard for the enemy.

She was lying to me, and I knew it, but her vulnerability is real. The way she held on and hugged me, her body begging me to shelter her. For all I know, she is playing me right now, but I don’t give a fuck. Unless the whole damn room lights on fire, I’m staying in this bed for the rest of the night with Maxine under me, over me or tucked in tight to my side. I pump into her one more time, and my body explodes in another mind-bending orgasm.

Whatever this is, and whatever we are doing, has an expiration date, and when our time is up, we are sure to crash and burn.

I fall to her side, and she pulls at me. “I like you close to me.”

I snake my arm around her waist and draw her close, my body sated and at peace as my brain twists with all kinds of questions. Most of what she said didn’t match Juan’s intel, which either proves she is lying, or he is spitting bullshit to save his ass. Both scenarios work, but shit, this cat and mouse game is giving me a damn headache.

I thread my fingers through her hair. “You never did tell me how you ended up in Tijuana.”

“I’d tried to get legit fights in the States, but it’s next to impossible if you don’t have an agent. Some people told me there’s a lot of money to be made in underground fighting in Tijuana. Especially for women, and they don’t ask a lot of questions.”

Fact. You could get away with just about anything here. “But now you wanna go back to the States?”

“I didn’t expect I’d get threatened by a cartel boss.”

Interesting.

“How do you know he’s part of the cartel?”

“Ummm, just what people say around the gym.”

“I think you know way more than you’re saying.”

“It doesn’t matter because, a few weeks ago, I lost my passport, so I can’t leave, even if I wanted to.” She looks away from me.

“What about a driver’s license?”

“I . . . ahh, don’t have one.” She bites her bottom lip.

I prop myself up on my elbow and peer down at her. “When are you going to tell me all your secrets?”

“I don’t have any secrets.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Nice try, babe, but I have a feeling you haven’t even scratched the surface.

“No, really, I’ve told you everything.”

“So, you’ve been in Tijuana a few weeks, Ricky hired you to fight here, then you lost your passport?”

“Yes, crazy story. I was out in a bar one night, and when I got home, my passport was missing from my purse.”

I stare at her for a second too long. “Huh, you get your passport stolen, then you got Hector Rodriquez up your ass.”

“I guess things aren’t working out exactly as I expected in Tijuana.”

“Here’s what I think.” I lean into her. “I don’t doubt Hector’s threatening you, but I also think you know him way more than you’re letting on.” I throw out the insinuation expecting her to react, but she just stares right back at me with those light eyes.

“I also think Hector keeps close tabs on you, and he’s done more than ask you to fight for him.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think he sent you here to check out our setup and report back to him.”

“I’m no spy.”

I know how Hector works. He’d do anything to get his way.

“Maybe he offered you a better deal, and you’ve already decided to throw in with him.”

He also isn’t above offering her something, then screwing her out of it in the end.

“Or maybe you’ve decided to join his other more lucrative business. I understand his whore houses rake in thousands.”

“Never.”

She raises her hand to slap me, but I catch her wrist and hold her captive. “What’s the matter? Did I hit a nerve?”

She glares at me like she wants to kill me, and I believe she could’ve done it. I loosen my grip, and her arm falls to the sheets. She looks away from me, but I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“Now, tell me something that isn’t a lie,” I demand.

“Everything you said is true. I had no idea when I rented from him what the area was like; I just wanted a room. Then, after I began fighting for your club, he tried to persuade me to fight for him. When I refused, he started threatening me.”

“How?”

“Saying he would throw me out of the apartment.” She plays with the bedsheets. “I couldn’t let that happen, and without my passport, I can’t even get back to the States.”

I scrub my hand over my face and blow out a deep sigh. “I can help you.”

“Help me how?”

“With getting a passport.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She jumps into my arms, straddles my lap and showers my face and neck with kisses. My heart jacks up, and a jolt shoots down my spine, landing directly at my dick.

“I have some money,” she offers. “I can pay you.”

I ease her back a few inches. “Not necessary.”

“You’re the first person . . . the only person who’s ever tried to help me.”

What the hell kind of life did Maxine have if I’m her savior? I still don’t know shit about her, but when she jumped into my arms and hugged me, my heart swelled. Two seconds later, she grinds over me, sliding my cock into her wet, hot pussy. And when she arches her back, braces her palms on my thighs and rides me, all I can concentrate on is my cock being swallowed up and devoured.

I don’t know what the fuck this woman did to me, but right now all I can think about is shooting my load into her tight snatch and helping her any way I can—even if it means pissing off Smoke.