The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(85)

“Ohh.” Her hands clawed at the sheets, and her hips lurched off the bed in invitation. “That’s perfect. Keep going.”

Satisfaction rushed through my veins. Sweat beaded my brow, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I couldn’t deny her or myself for one more second. I slammed into her, giving her everything I had. Taking more than my share. A long groan burst from my mouth.

Without much effort, our hips synchronized like we’d done this hundreds of times. God knows, I had replayed every moment I was inside of her at least a hundred times over the past month.

I sucked on the top of her collarbone, branding her as mine. The thought fueled my need for her. I gripped her hips as I pounded into her. She circled her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper and deeper, meeting me thrust for thrust until we were two halves of a whole.

The bed frame squeaked. The headboard crashed with methodical repetition against the wall. Vaguely, I remembered Rever in the guest bedroom adjacent to mine, and the open blinds. I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of it. The way her walls contracted around me and the tension building at the base of my spine with every mindless thrust demanded every ounce of my attention and more.

And then Hattie exploded, her scream the crescendo to our symphony of moans and groans. She tightened around me, and I teetered on the edge seesawing back of forth, trying to maintain my rhythm, trying to keep going, trying to keep thrusting. But it was too hard. She felt too good. Sparks shot through my body. Her name tumbled from my lips, sounding more like a howl than a word, and I couldn’t stop the pleasure induced insanity as it ripped through my body, hurling me into oblivion.

I stopped moving and opened my eyes. She was staring at me. She looked soft and dreamy.

“Hi,” she whispered as her fingers traced my jaw.

“Hi,” I whispered back, at a loss for words because everything felt too perfect to describe. The vulnerability of the moment rattled my heart and tore at my gut, but I wouldn’t take it back for anything. She was in my blood, and I was ready to accept it, regardless of what happened. Good or bad.

I kissed her, explaining without words what she meant to me and how I’d never let her go.

I rolled off her and gathered her into my arms. “Promise me something.”

Hattie turned her head to the side, a faint smile on her face. “What?”

“Don’t confront Evan or say anything to your family. Let me take care of it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Hattie, give yourself a few days to process this, and then if you still want to confront him, I’ll go with you.”

She nodded, propping her body up on her elbow. “When are we going to eat? I’m starving.”

I laughed. “Now.”





Chapter Fourteen




Hattie



Fog blanketed the city this morning, coating the pink blooms of the cherry blossoms in a blurry haze, making them less vibrant. Less alive. The temperature had dropped in the short walk from Ryker’s apartment to Evan’s townhome. A gust of wind, thick with grime and the smell of moisture, whipped through my hair.

This morning, I woke up in a daze, numbed by everything Ryker told me about Evan and his father last night. Even Ryker’s smiles and reassuring words didn’t improve my mood.

Like someone had kicked me in the gut, betrayal simmered in my stomach, making me simultaneously angry and nauseous. I had to do something to reclaim my life, so a half hour after Ryker left me alone in his bed, I found myself standing in front of the door to Evan’s townhouse.

Drawing in a lungful of heavy, moisture-laden air, I fortified my wilting willpower to do what I had to do. In order to understand everything, I needed more information from as many sources as possible. A chilly gust of wind whistled through the trees and I shivered, wishing I’d worn a heavier jacket.

My heart racing violently, I glanced left, then right. Looking for what?

Evan.

Senator Deveron.

My mom.

Ryker.

I didn’t know. When I didn’t recognize anyone on the street, I pulled my keys out of my pocket. Evan never asked me to return the key to his place, and I hadn’t thought about it until this morning when I started planning my next move.

Ryker had warned me not to confront Evan, and I promised I wouldn’t, but I lied. I’d had enough. I counted the minutes until Ryker left this morning, not because I didn’t want to spend time with him, but because I intended to go back to the townhome I used to share with Evan.

The alarm beeped repeatedly when I pushed the door open. Thank God, he wasn’t home. I entered the code and dropped my purse on the kitchen counter. I glanced around the room. Everything looked the same, but dirtier. An abandoned cereal bowl and coffee cup sat on the countertop. Books were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table on top of a closed pizza box.

I slipped my phone out of my pocket and texted Evan.



Me: Where are you?



He replied almost immediately.



Evan: Office hours. I’ll be here for another twenty minutes. Why?



Perfect. I wanted to search the apartment before he came home.



Me: At your place. I want to talk.



Evan: Okay. I’ll be home in thirty minutes.



I tossed my phone on the counter.