Beyond Jealousy (18 page)

"Hurry." Her hand skated down her throat, and she cupped her breast. "Please."

Ace gripped his shaft and looked to Cruz, and the power of the moment made him dizzy. Both of them were hungry, eager...and waiting for him.

He shifted his grip in Rachel's hair, twisting his fingers through the disheveled strands before closing his fist. Rough, commanding--all the things he'd promised himself he'd never be with her in those first days, when he'd thought respect meant deciding what she could want.

Respect was letting her want anything that got her off. Not just that, but giving it to her, in all its filthy, debauched glory.

He hauled her head back and forced her gaze to his. "Watch me," he whispered. "Watch me while he fucks your pussy. I'm giving him to you, and I'm giving you to him. I decide how fast, how deep, how hard. I decide all of it, don't I?"

"Y-yes." She was barely breathing, just quick, shallow gasps of air. But her eyes--dark, wide.

Adoring.

He'd tear apart the world and everyone in it to give her what she wanted. But tonight didn't require anything so extreme. It only required permission. "Take her, Ace."

He did, plunging deep in one smooth stroke. Rachel shrieked, jerking in Cruz's grip as she shuddered. Her eyes glazed over, but she didn't look away, not even when Ace gripped her hips and held her steady for another thrust.

"That's right." God, he didn't want to lose this intimacy. Not even the heat of her mouth around his dick was worth giving up the perfect view of everything she felt drifting across her face. Reaching out blindly, he grabbed both of her hands and guided them to his shaft. "Jerk me off, but don't look away, Rachel. Do you hear me?"

"I hear--" The words dissolved into a sharp moan. "Fuck, I hear you."

He was still wet from her mouth. She twisted her hands slightly as she stroked him up and down, keeping pace with the speed of Ace's hard, steady thrusts. He wouldn't last long like this, but he didn't care. "Does he feel good inside you, sweetheart? Do you feel full?"

"So much." Her voice hitched, and she jerked him harder. "I see it. How much you want this."

"It's all he wants." Ace moved a hand up to twine with Cruz's, tangling their fingers in her hair. "You're all he sees, angel. All either of us sees, except for those moments when you shine so bright, you make us see each other."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she snapped them open again immediately. The adoration in her gaze had deepened, melting into something that blazed even as it gentled. "I know. I feel it, too."

Ace tightened his grip, squeezing Cruz's fingers, and the first promise of release shuddered through him on the heels of Ace's rough whisper. "He wants to come all over your lips and tongue. He's too much of a damn gentleman to say it, but you'd let him, wouldn't you? You'd take it and love it, because it's him."

A flush spread up Rachel's chest. She made a low, shocked noise, and Ace hissed. "Oh yeah," he rumbled, sliding a hand beneath her. "Even hearing the words makes you squeeze me so fucking tight. Show him, Rae. Show him how you get off just thinking about licking the taste of him off your lips."

She came hard, throwing her head back with a cry that melted into lustful pleas--
now
and
more
and
fuck, yes
. But even as she shuddered apart in Ace's arms, her hands never stopped moving, sweet and a little rough, demanding that Cruz join her in ecstasy.

As if he could stop. Pleasure was alive inside him, throbbing harder and hotter until he bit off a snarl. And Rachel was lost, her eyes closed, but Ace wasn't. He caught Cruz's gaze, held it, all but commanding him to revel in the darkness, the reckless obscenity of the moment.

Release hit him, and Ace moved, bowing Rachel's head so the first spurt painted her parted lips. Her tongue glided out to slick over her lip, and she bent her head farther, closing her mouth around him in time to catch the next pump of semen.

If he'd had the biological ability, he might have come again.

"Good girl," Ace whispered, rocking his hips, riding her orgasm. "So hungry for him, aren't you?"

She didn't lift her head, but she reached back and dug her fingernails into Ace's side.

He hissed his approval, and the blood pounded back into Cruz's ears as Ace slipped his fingers from Rachel's clit and held his hand up to his mouth. "She tastes good, too," he drawled, dragging his tongue over the slick digits before swiping it around his thumb, until it glistened.

Even then, Cruz didn't realize what he was about to do. Not until Ace dropped his hand and stroked his thumb between the smooth cheeks of Rachel's ass.

She stiffened and raised her head. "Ace..."

He made a soothing sound. "It's your choice, angel. It's always your choice."

She shuddered and licked her lips. "I want it. I want everything."

"I know." Ace rubbed his thumb in slow, tiny circles that made Rachel shiver in Cruz's grip--or maybe it was his words that did it. Ace never ran out of words, and these...

"It'll take time," he was saying as he edged his thumb into her tight little hole. "We'll have to get you something shiny. Steel or glass. Spend forever working it into you, and you'll feel so full when we fuck you. But you'll get used to it, until you're begging for my cock in your ass. Or Cruz's."

Rachel whimpered. Her tongue lingered at the corner of her mouth, gathering the last remaining traces of Cruz's orgasm with a slow lick. He caught her cheeks between his hands and watched, entranced, as Ace pushed his thumb deeper and her eyes grew wide.

If Ace's thumb left her this dazed, Cruz could only imagine what the other man's cock would do. Or what they could do together, holding Rachel between them as they filled her. She'd let them. She'd let them do
anything
, and the dizzy power of it hit him in another rush, so wild and heady that all he could do was kiss her.

She clung to him, one hand in his hair and the other wrapped around his arm, moaning into his mouth as her body began to jerk rhythmically. Ace, slamming into her with hard, demanding thrusts--that was all it could be.

And it wasn't enough. Cruz edged forward, sliding one hand down, over the trembling muscles of her abdomen and lower, to where Ace pumped into her, the girth of his shaft spreading her wide. Sinking his teeth into her lower lip, he centered his touch over her clit, stroking in time with her shudders.

Rachel bit him with a shriek, her teeth scoring his lip so hard he tasted blood. Judging by Ace's tortured noise she was coming hard, and the shaking didn't stop. Faster and harder, until he had to brace her body against the strength of Ace's thrusts as obscenities tripped from the other man's tongue.

But it couldn't last forever. Rachel was gasping,
sobbing
, and Cruz opened his mouth, ready to tell Ace that it was enough. Before he could speak, Ace threw back his head with a final, growling noise, sinking deep into her body and staying there. Cruz slowed his touch to a gentle brush, easing her through the last peak before moving his hand to her hip.

She swayed, then wrapped both arms around his neck and pressed her face into the hollow of his throat. Warm breaths gusted over his skin with every pant, until finally she began to settle, and her breathing slowed. Ace bent over her, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder before lifting pleasure-glazed eyes to Cruz.

This had always been the line for men in his squad. That polite edge of plausible deniability. It wasn't fraternization if you had a woman between you, because it wasn't about feelings, just a conquest you could brag about later. And you tried so hard, protested too much, stripped away anything warm and real because it was the only way to have even a little piece of what you wanted...

Fuck that life. Fuck those lies, the denial and shame. With Rachel curled trustingly against him, Cruz let go of the last little bits of Eden clinging to him, wrapped a hand around the back of Ace's head, and pulled him in for a slow, tongue-tangling kiss.

At some point, it had to get easier to face her father.

At least that's what Rachel told herself as she made her way through the busy market and toward the coffee shop where they'd planned to meet. She rounded the last corner, hoping she'd somehow managed to beat him there, but the sight of three burly guards put that hope to rest. Her father sat at a corner table under the outside patio, his customary cup of coffee before him and a bland look on his face.

If only she hadn't let Cruz and Ace lure her into spending that last lazy hour in bed. But she was helpless against their charms, not to mention the sheer warmth of affection in their kisses. She'd lain between them for far too long, her legs tangled with theirs, whispering secrets and encouragement between caresses. Relishing the soft glow of intimacy.

And now she was late. She smiled at Lou, the man who ran the bakery and coffee shop, and dropped into the chair across from her father. "Hi, Dad. Have you been waiting long?"

"No, we were a little late. Jerome's sector pass had been flagged." His gaze strayed unerringly to her throat, lingering for a moment on the beribboned chain before shifting to where the top edge of her latest tattoo was visible above her shirt. He pressed his lips together tightly but said nothing.

Somehow, she resisted the urge to cover her ink. Or the collar. "Not too much trouble, I hope."

Her father shrugged. "He stayed behind. It wasn't worth a bribe, not under the circumstances. Pete came with us instead."

She hadn't noticed the man standing behind the guards, but she waved at him now. Skinny Pete was one of her father's longtime employees, and Rachel couldn't remember a time he hadn't been around. "How's Mom?" she asked her father.

"Good. Sad you couldn't come into the city for a visit." He flicked up a finger, and Skinny Pete stepped forward to slip a paper-wrapped package from inside his coat. "She sent this for you."

Rachel didn't even have to unwrap it to know what it was. The scent of yeast and beer permeated the paper, and she smiled. "Soda bread. Tell her I said thanks."

"She misses you." Liam leaned back and studied her over the edge of his coffee. "It broke her heart that you chose not to come home, but she doesn't understand. You wouldn't be my girl if you picked the safe path."

"No, I wouldn't be." She was her father's daughter, dedicated to following her conscience, even when it cost her. She stretched one hand across the table, and her jacket sleeve rode up to reveal the ink on her wrist. "When Dallas took me in, when he gave me these cuffs, I made a promise. That's what this is. If I forgot all about it just because I have the chance to come back to Eden... What kind of person would that make me?"

"I know." He covered her hand with his own. "You've done more for the family than any of your cousins."

Her uncles had raised their children differently, had taught them to aspire to climb Eden's social ranks until they, too, were stepping on the faces of those beneath them. They weren't soft, not yet, but they were oblivious. "You've heard about the trouble Dallas is having, right? The knockoff liquor making its way into the city?"

"I've heard."

He said it carefully, but the slight edge of warning wasn't lost on her. He was wondering if Dallas had set the whole thing up as a way to bypass paying the Rileys their cut for import. "It
is
fake, Dad. Someone's bootlegging the bootlegger."

He studied her face for a moment before inclining his head. "One bottle came my way that didn't seem up to snuff...but that would just make it cost-effective as well as clever, wouldn't it?"

"You know Dallas better than that. He feels the same way about his booze that you do about your beer. He wouldn't put out substandard product."

"Then he has a problem. And so do we."

"Yeah." Rachel offered her father a lopsided smile. "He could use your help. No one knows the trade routes better. If anyone can find out how they're getting this shit into the city, it's you."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I'll look into it, but I'd like you to do something for me in return."

"Anything."

"It's my understanding that Lorenzo Cruz is a full member of O'Kane's gang now. If things get dangerous, let him keep you safe."

For a few frozen seconds, she couldn't decide if the statement was as innocent as it sounded, or if he was looking for information and couldn't quite figure out how to ask. "You know Cruz? How?"

"I've encountered him," her father replied with frustrating vagueness. "And we have several mutual friends. I know his reputation is solid, and that he's a good man. A man I'd trust with your safety."

Her hand twitched toward the beribboned chain dangling from her collar, and she stretched her fingers flat on the table to still them. "He is a good man, and he'll watch out for me. We're together."

A pause. "I see."

"He's my--" Her what? Boyfriend? Lover? She reached up, after all, to toy with the ribbon and chain trailing between the open flaps of her jacket. "He and Ace gave me this."

Her father's eyes froze. "Ace. You mean Alexander Santana?"

Being ashamed wasn't the same thing as knowing someone wouldn't understand and dreading the inevitable confrontation. Rachel knew it, but her cheeks still heated. "Yeah, that's who I mean."

"Do you know what he was? What he
is
?"

"Don't, Dad."

"He slept with women for money and left their marriages in ruin." Her father's lip curled. "And you think I don't know the brothel owners in this sector take orders from him?"

Her discomfort melted in a flash of protective anger. "And I'm a criminal in exile. What's your point?"

"How did you expect me to react? Cruz is a decent man, but Santana..." His eyes--the eyes she'd inherited from him--went hard. "Don't ask me to think he's good enough for you. Or to understand why Cruz isn't enough."

The irony of it almost choked her. But trying to explain that Ace and Cruz had practically been together, even without her, would be useless. Her father would never understand because he lived outside of the law in Eden, but he was still mired in its hypocritical moral system.