Aching to Exhale (15 page)

Filled with him, she panted, fighting the end. When he'd scooped her up on her way back from the bathroom, she never would've believed she had any more to give him. She was wrong.

The air hot in the room, the silence filled by Raul's grunts of feelings and her rushed desire to give everything over to Raul's care, including her pleasure, created a safe cocoon for her, one she thrived on. She let go of the chair and clasped his shoulders. The heat from his body radiated off him. Her pussy clenched in reaction and a spiral of warmth curled in her lower stomach, tightening, reaching, and driving her needy.

"That's it." Raul's fingers dug into her hips, keeping her going.

Greedy and voracious, she clung to him. Breathless, urgent gasps escaped. Her core muscles seized in a flash of white heat Succulent pleasure flooded her entire body, instantly zapping her of any strength. Aware of Raul's string of cuss words as he came inside of her, holding her planted solidly on him, she careened toward him, laying her head on his shoulders and letting him hold her.

Their mixed rapid breathing and thundering heartbeats vibrated between them. She shuddered as aftershocks of pleasure pinged throughout her body, and Raul's hardness pulsed in reaction. Nothing, not one thing worth living for, compared to the experience of having him deep within her, consuming her whole body.

Her friendships with the other women in the club, her achievements on keeping herself safe, her resilience to stay strong despite the hardships dealt to her, never gave her the same kind of satisfaction Raul's love did.

His love was different. Impossible. Demanding. Almost painful. Without him, she'd suffer and be half a person.

"Be careful today," she whispered in his ear. "I'll never survive if you don't come back to me."

Raul pulled her away from him, cupping her face. "I'll be back, and you'll be safe. No one is going to touch you."

She dropped her gaze. He couldn't make promises that were out of his hands. Yet, she longed to believe him.

"
Mi vida
," He forced her to look at him. "It's imperative that you stay locked down where you're going. Do exactly what we went over earlier. You have to remain hidden. I ran out of time to set you up with the outside, so it's even more important that you don't question me."

She nodded. "W-who will I be staying with?"

He kissed her hard, lifted her from his body. She shivered, already lost without him. Fear of Garcia coming after her should've had her panicking, but all she could deal with was Raul riding away from her. What he planned to do would get him killed if anyone slipped up. It wasn't only her fear he'd be ousted for a Fed. He was delivering drugs, a mega load of drugs, and women.

"Nichols." Raul pulled on his jeans. "He'll stay with you, and if I need to send someone to pick you up, he'll make sure you're delivered safely."

"What?" She latched her bra behind her back. "How will he defend me against Garcia? He can barely walk the hundred yards to the back of the lot without stopping to catch his breath and rest his knees. I could do more damage with a well-placed kick than he could with his bad legs."

Raul's brows lowered. He wasn't amused.

"Seriously, baby. I love the guy, but everyone calls him old man Nichols for a reason." She pulled her T-shirt over her head and reached for her jeans.

"He's the best shooter we have, and he's going well armed. He has strict orders to shoot first," he said.

"Oh." She ran her hands through her hair, deciding to wear it down and not worry about how she looked today.

She walked over to the dresser and picked up one of Raul's knives, passed it between both of her hands, and replaced it on the dresser and picked up another knife. Satisfied that it was small enough to handle without falling out of her hand, she slid it into the back pocket of her jeans, blade closed.

"What are you doing?"

She raised her gaze. "Taking one of your knives with me."

"You're not going to need it. I said I've got you covered, and I do." He approached her and put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. "Trust me?"

"Yeah." She kissed him quickly, and continued. "But, I'm not stupid."

Finally, his mouth softened and he gave her a dip of his chin. "Never thought you were."

A knock interrupted any further discussion. Raul went to the door. Crystal peered around his shoulder at old man Nichols. Dread making her knees weak.

"Bikes are gassed up. Boys are ready—Nichols glanced at Crystal—everything is set up and waiting."

"Good." Raul turned his back on Nichols and directed his attention to Crystal. "Just like we planned. Don't veer off course, understand?"

She nodded, and in a brave show of confidence in what he was doing and hope that when it was over, they'd enter a new chapter in both their lives, she stepped to the side and closed the door on Nichols with a grin of apology.

Then she dove at Raul, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest. Tremors wracked her body, but she closed her eyes and held on to him without moving.

"
Mi vida
, we need to go. We've been through—"

"Sh." She inhaled, taking in the scent of leather, oil, and tobacco. "I want to remember how it feels to have your chest under my cheek, my hands on your body, and your smell…God, have I told you before how much I love how you smell? Even though I don't want you to smoke, I even love that, because it's a part of you. When I was gone, I'd pass men who smelled of cigarette smoke and my stomach would quiver, because it reminded me of you, even though it was different."

"Crystal—"

"You're the perfect size for me." She tightened her hold on him. "Our legs match in length, even though you're taller than me. Have you ever noticed that?"

"I love your legs," he whispered.

"But I really love your chest and back. Sometimes when you're lying on your stomach, I'll trace the fire and flames you have tattooed on your back and pretend it's a roadmap to your heart." She squiggled her finger over his chest. "If I can trace the design, the whole design, without lifting my finger, I'll magically open your heart. Then I'd walk in and curl up, never coming out."

"You already have," he said. "Locked in tight."

"I also love how you always touch me." She squeezed her eyes closed tighter. "I pretend I'm asleep at night, but I know you hold me. You're not even aware of it, because you reach for me in your sleep and tuck me against you without opening your eyes or changing your breathing. Then I lay there wide awake, just soaking in all the attention. I can never get enough of you. If you stopped touching me, I'd die. If I—"

"Stop." He caressed her back.

"You also sigh when you're frustrated with me. Sometimes I make you mad, just to hear you take that deep breath and tone down your attitude." Her voice broke. "We have great make-up sex too."

"I will be back." He shifted her, and urged her to look up at him. When she did, his eyes softened. "I love you too. Everything you do keeps me going forward to you, with you, to continue loving you. There's no way in fucking hell, I'm not coming back to that, okay?"

She nodded, sniffing the tears back and looking away. "'kay."

The imprint of his body branded against her, she couldn't watch him walk away from her without losing it completely. She led them both down the stairs and into the main room. Holding her chin high, she accepted the hugs from the others—who believed she was going to visit a friend for a few days while Raul went on the ride. She let them believe she'd be back.

Her heart steeled against the changes that the run for Garcia would bring her way. She leaned into Raul, kissed him quickly and turned away, following Nichols out the door.

Nichols put his hand on her back to keep her moving. "You're doing good, girly."

She nodded without saying a word or understanding how much Nichols understood of the dangers. Inside her head, she screamed for Raul to change his mind. They could run away from it all and hide. Even a week together before someone caught up with them was better than leaving him voluntarily.

Chapter Nineteen

Raul threw his leg off his Harley and strode straight to Garcia, who waited outside the designated meeting point— a private runway on the edge of the urban brawl of Los Angeles. To insure operations with Garcia went down without backlash, Raul planned to seal the deal without handing over Crystal.

Garcia took in all the Lagsturns riders walking behind and out to the sides of Raul, and finally settled his gaze on him. "You're missing a very valuable piece of merchandise, my friend. We had an agreement."

Raul steadied his weight on the heels of his boots. "Protecting my investment,
amigo
. You're asking for the most treasured possession I own. I'm putting my life up as collateral that you'll get my woman when the job is finished. Call it insurance, but I don't trust you."

"Smart…" Garcia's gaze narrowed. "Although loco. I don't negotiate."

Raul stretched his back, appearing lax when inside his gut rolled up tighter than a rusty piston at the mention of Crystal. "Then I walk."

"Dead men have a hard time walking away," Garcia said, his voice quiet and firm.

"And then our people go without women, and your contacts in the states go without their blow. I'm your lifeline on delivering both of your goods. I'm the one keeping you alive, so someday you can return to your
familia
in Mexico."

Garcia held his gaze, then walked forward, around Raul, and weaved his way between the Lagsturns, looking each member over and finally stopping at the back of the group in front of Duck.

Being tested, Raul moved over and leaned against the building, waiting Garcia out. Before they arrived, he'd rode with his men, nothing else. They all knew the job they were supposed to do and what he expected of them. They understood the consequences if Garcia's demands grew and trouble broke out. What he didn't do was warn them to go along with his story or to protect Crystal.

Club rules required each of them to have their president's back. He counted on their loyalty to protect him and his old lady in case Garcia tried to sway their allegiance. Plotting or warning his men would've made them leery, and Garcia was smart enough to see right through his ploy.

The pistol in the back waistband of his jeans burned his skin. His fingers itched to reach around and grasp the handle, cock the barrel, and end the nightmare he was walking into by gambling with his men's loyalty.

"All right, men." Garcia stepped back from Duck. "Supplies are inside. My men will load them in the trailer."

Raul stayed against the building as his men walked toward the heavy-duty diesel truck and trailer parked at the door of the hanger. When Garcia was the only man left, he nodded. "It'll take us eight hours to hit the Arizona border. I won't kill my men or the women we're transporting by going faster. I'll call and let it ring once if everything is going according to our plans. I'll let it ring three times if there's been a change in our route or we've ran into problems. Do not answer your phone regardless. I don't want a trail. When we reach our destination, I'll have my woman delivered to you."

Garcia sniffed hard, pursing his mouth. Raul waited, and hoped the other man realized the smoking gun was pointed dead center at his chest.

Garcia pulled out a green pouch out of his back pocket and handed it over. Raul accepted the package, unzipped it, and thumbed through the stack of bills. "This is half of what you owe me."

"You'll get the rest of the money after I receive the girl." Garcia walked away, through the door, and disappeared inside.

"Son of a bitch," Raul whispered, pocketing the pouch.

He had no choice but to go through with the delivery, and hold off on calling in the situation to his contact at the bureau. He'd gone years without informing the federal agents assigned to the case from the outside on his plans. Trained to react on a moment's notice, he relied on their skills. One direct phone call from him, and he'd have backup to bring down Garcia and everyone involved within thirty minutes. Without the full amount he was owed, he'd also put the case in jeopardy.

There were too many loopholes, too much danger, too much riding on bringing in the most important man in the Mafia on this side of the border over twenty-five thousand fucking dollars. He'd have to wait until he delivered the women and drugs.

The metal cargo door slid shut with a bang. Raul walked over and stood at the back of the truck. Besides the wind whistling, his men remained quiet. The human cargo inside the trailer was also silent. Anger rolled through him. These were someone's daughter, sister, maybe even wife or girlfriend he planned to ship to Mexico, where their life would end.

Some of them would survive, accept their new life as a sexual servant, and others either would end their own life or attempt to stand up for themselves and die. Disgust tasted bitter in his mouth. He'd heard the stories before, and seen with his own eyes what happens to them.

Border patrol was a joke. The federal agents who were in charge of keeping everyone on the right side of the fence were overworked and low on numbers. There were holes in the system. It was his job to capture one of the men who created a hole tomorrow night and deliver the goods.

"Ready to ride?" Raul glanced at the license plate on the truck. The tags were valid, the lights working. Barney, one of the Lagsturns members, borrowed the vehicle from his brother-in-law who drove long haul.

"Yeah." Tango slipped on his gloves. "Let's get these bitches out of here."

Raul clenched his teeth, lifted his arm, and circled the air. He'd deal with Tango later. "Let's roll."

Within minutes, four riders pulled ahead of the truck. Big Joe, Duck, and Raul brought up the back. Raul pulled down his sunglasses as he sped up on the main road, heading south. It was going to be a long day, and all he wanted to do was call and find out if Crystal arrived to her destination safely. He wouldn't relax until he knew she was okay and tucked into hiding away from Garcia.