His to Protect (8 page)

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, not wanting to break the quiet spell of the room.

Looking nervous, Kell glanced at the bassinet on the other side of the room then back at her.

She tried to fight a smile and lost. “You’re worried about Reece?”

Slowly Kell nodded, his expression torn between lust and worry.

Unable to stop herself, she let out a low laugh. He could hold his head up when sitting, though it still bobbed around, but he was too young to sit up on his own or realize what was going on. “He can’t lift his head up far enough to see us and he’s way too young to understand what’s going on even if he was awake.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve read every baby book out there, but if you want to stop—”

He silenced her with another kiss. Okay, he didn’t want to stop either. She wasn’t sure what she wanted right now, but the only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted Kell’s hands on her. Even if she was terrified of the thought of him seeing her naked. Her body had changed since the last time he’d seen her. Her hips were a little wider and she was softer.

When he reached between them and slowly began unbuttoning her top she frantically reached for his hands, stilling him.

He lifted up, his pale eyes worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I look different than I used to before I had Reece.” What if he didn’t want her anymore? What if he decided that—

“You actually think I give a shit about that?”

The heat she saw in his gaze killed most of her fears. She slowly shook her head, but didn’t trust herself enough to speak.

With his gaze on her, he continued unbuttoning the black and white pajama top until she was splayed out for him. As his eyes zeroed in on her breasts, the rest of her fear dissolved. He definitely wanted her. She could see it in every harsh line of his features.

“Are your breasts sore?” The thoughtful question once again took her by surprise, but by now she figured she should be used to it.

She nodded. “They’re tender.”

“We can work around that.” He bent his head to her breast but instead of taking her nipple in his mouth like she’d expected he gently kissed the underside of her mounds, licking and raking his teeth over the soft flesh. He teased her everywhere except her nipples, which were a little too tender at the moment.

It floored her how he seemed to read her moods and needs.

When he began a slow path down her stomach, her lower abdomen muscles clenched in anticipation. As he reached her C-section scar and kissed along the fading incision mark, she knew what was coming. The dampness between her thighs grew, making her feel slightly embarrassed that she was this turned on.

He hadn’t even taken his clothes off yet. “Shirt off,” she demanded.

Kell raised his head in surprise at her command, but without question grasped the edge of his T-shirt and peeled it off. She sucked in a breath as her gaze trailed up his washboard stomach to the hard lines of his chest. As she reached his shoulders she blushed furiously. She’d clutched on to them as he’d pounded into her against a wall. Then she’d thrown her legs over them as he’d gone down on her at the end of her bed.

“Your eyes are so expressive,” he murmured before grasping the top of her pajama pants. He hooked his fingers around her panties and tugged them off at the same time. She still had her shirt on even if it was unbuttoned, yet she felt completely naked. Exposed to him. After the past few days her nerves were raw and shot to hell. She needed this. They both did.

She went to sit up and reach for the top of his pants, but he shook his head. “Lay back. Now.”

The hard command in his voice had her nipples tightening and her inner walls clenching with need. His palms pressed against her knees, spreading her legs wider as he dipped his head between her thighs.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured before his tongue swiped up her slit.

She jerked against the sheets and bit back a moan. Considering they had people waiting for them in the kitchen and a sleeping baby nearby, she knew she needed to be quiet.

His tongue slowly dipped inside her, teasing and flicking before he ran it back up to her clit. Unable to stop herself she grabbed his head, threading her fingers through his dark hair. A shudder rippled through her when his tongue circled her clit, enflaming the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Kell,” she moaned his name, wanting to shout it. He was the last man she’d been with so her body was primed and tense with so much need. She’d been fantasizing about a repeat of what they’d shared for the last year.

He smiled against her wet flesh. “You’ve got to stay quiet,” he whispered

With her free hand she fisted the sheet beneath her. Her fingers dug into the material as he began his assault anew, licking and teasing until she was shaking with the need to cry out, to climax. She was so damn close to the edge and all she wanted to do was come, to feel his thick length pushing deep inside her.

When he quickly pushed one, then two fingers inside her she was lost. He was gentle, watching her for feedback as he began stroking her. The orgasm that punched through her was sharp, slapping all her nerve endings with a startling intensity she hadn’t expected. Her legs tightened around his head but he didn’t seem to care as he pumped his fingers in and out of her in a steady rhythm, his tongue never letting up from her clit.

As her climax began to ebb he lightly pressed his teeth around her little nub, sending another one shooting through her. Her back arched off the bed, her inner walls clenching furiously around his fingers as she bathed him in her cream until she collapsed against the sheets unable to move.

An instant later he climbed up her body and feathered kisses along her jaw and lips. She could taste herself on him and even though she was spent, she reached for the top of his pants, wanting to see all of him. But he quickly stopped her with a strong grip on her wrists.

“Why are you stopping me?” Hurt lanced through her at the rejection.

He must have read her expression because he shook his head. “It’s not because I don’t want this. I do, more than anything. But when I take you again it’s going to be for hours and it’s not going to happen with people a few rooms over and our baby in the room. I’m going to fuck you so long that you scream my name from the pleasure of it. Then I’m going to do it again.”

Still unsteady, she sat up, but wrapped her hands around him, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. “Then why…” she trailed off, not needing to finish. Why had he done this if he wouldn’t let her return the favor?

“I want you to think about this while we’re separated. I want you to remember how good things are between us.” His voice was almost guttural, needy as he kissed her again.

She had no doubt that she’d remember this because she still hadn’t forgotten their last time together. Kell had branded her their first and only night together in a way that still stunned her. It was almost like he could read her mind. Or maybe he just paid attention. He was so possessive in the bedroom, so demanding and yet so tender and gentle. Unlike her deceased husband, Kell made her feel wanted in a way that was indescribable. When he looked at her, she knew he was hungry for her. And she definitely reciprocated.

Right now the last thing in the world she wanted to do was leave Kell. To keep her son and him safe she’d do anything, but it didn’t mean she liked it. Especially not when she was starting to realize that they might have a chance at a real relationship.

Chapter 8

Cecil Talley pulled his cap lower on his head as he strode down the sidewalk of the lower middle-class neighborhood he used to call home. His grandmother still lived there, but he didn’t see her much anymore. Not with his lifestyle. She’d done the best she could to raise him once his mother had split and he couldn’t bring any heat on her. She didn’t deserve it.

He’d driven by a few times in the past couple days and hadn’t seen any cops or worse, cartel members loitering around. Cecil still couldn’t believe that cop West was dead. They’d planned to kill Mateo Diaz and make it look like a robbery gone wrong—then later the 19th Street Gang would take credit for it. Cecil hadn’t worked with West before, but the man accepted bribes from certain gangs in the area and he occasionally looked the other way. The cop had just been with him to make sure the job got done right—as if Cecil needed a fucking babysitter. But then that witness had fucked everything up. They’d been careful too, picking a deserted alley, the right time of day, everything.

And that bitch had come out of nowhere. Worse, West had been murdered in
prison
. Where he should have been protected. Talley knew what that meant. The cartel had gotten to him. And now the 19th Street Gang had hung
him
out to dry. Killing Mateo was supposed to have brought Mateo’s brother, Renaldo, out of hiding. Then the gang was going to kill him and make a name for themselves. Mateo wasn’t involved with the cartel. He’d been in hospitality of all things, but as Renaldo’s brother he’d been considered to have an ‘association’ with them. So it had been well known that he was off limits. But the 19th Street boys had decided to make a move against him anyway—using Cecil to do the dirty work.

Instead, with the cop dead, the guys he thought were his friends had abandoned him. His nerves were shot by trying to lay low and he was dying for a cigarette but he hadn’t wanted to show up here stinking. His grandma hated it when he smoked. Hell, he hated that he even had to come here, but before getting out of town he had to pick up his stash from his grandmothers and kill the witness. While he didn’t like to kill women, he’d do it. At this point he was just trying to survive and he couldn’t take the risk that he left town with someone out there who’d seen him commit murder. It would always be hanging over his head since there was no statute of limitations on murder in Florida.

It was too much to hope that killing her might eliminate his other, bigger problem: Renaldo Diaz. The scary-ass enforcer for the growing cartel probably knew who he was if West had talked in prison—but there was a slim chance West had kept his mouth shut and Diaz didn’t know of his involvement. Of course none of that would matter if the woman had been able to identify him to the police because sooner or later that information would find its way to Renaldo. Either way, the woman had to die.

Instead of walking up to his grandmother’s front door, he cut through her next door neighbor’s yard and hopped the fence into the backyard. The drunk who lived there didn’t get up until at least noon and it was only seven in the morning. He jumped the fence into his grandma’s backyard and tried to sneak in through the back door, but she was in the kitchen cooking. With her back to him, she shook her dark head. “Sit and eat before you hightail out of here again.” Though her words were flippant, he heard the hurt there and it sliced through him.

He hated hurting her but if he hung out here more often she’d be a target. Now she was just some old lady he’d lived with for a few years. At least that was how his associates viewed her. Crossing the distance over the newly tiled floor—which he’d paid for by selling drugs—he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. At five feet flat she was an entire foot shorter than him. She was only in her fifties but his mom had had him young. Despite having had a bitch for a daughter and cleaning up Cecil’s mom’s messes for years, his grandmother looked like she was in her forties. At least genetics had been kind to her. “What’re you cooking?”

She looked up at him and smiled, the lines around her mouth crinkling. “Fried eggs, sausage and grits, your favorite.”

It was his favorite but she couldn’t have known he was coming. Which meant she probably cooked this every morning in the hopes that he’d show up. Yeah, he was an asshole.

“Police were here yesterday,” she continued as she pulled out one of the new plates from the set he’d bought her last month.

Turning away so he wouldn’t have to see her expression, he opened the fridge and pretended to look for something. “Yeah? What’d they want?”

“Looking for you. Told ‘em I haven’t seen you in months—which is the truth.”

Pulling out a carton of milk, he faced her. “You know why I can’t hang around here, grandma.”

Her dark eyes narrowed and he felt like the teenage boy she’d tried scolding hundreds of times. While he’d always been respectful since she was the only person who’d ever given a damn about him, he’d never listened. But he’d gotten better about lying over the years. Now it was useless to lie. Especially if he wouldn’t see her for a while.

“If the cops come back, tell them the truth, that I stopped by but I told you I’d be leaving town for a while.”

She turned to the stove again, her back ramrod straight. “You’re leaving?”

He leaned against the counter next to her, forcing her to look at him. “I’ve got to. I…got into some trouble and if I stick around I’ll bring too much heat on me and you. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, grandma.”

Her jaw clenched and though she wouldn’t look directly at him he saw unshed tears glistening in her eyes as she stared at the popping frying pan. “I appreciate all the stuff you’ve done around the house for me, but I don’t need it. I just need you safe and in my life.”

“I know.” With his throat tight, he pushed away and went to sit at the table. Didn’t matter what either of them wanted. Life had taught him that early on.