Page 55 of Loving Smoke

I huffed out a laugh, then stared at the ceiling. “Fifteen minutes ago you wanted to hurt me, maybe even kill me, and now you want to help me.”

Smoke moved to the edge of the bed and positioned me between his legs. “Sure, the dark side of me wanted you to pay cause I don’t like being played even by a beautiful woman, but . . . I could never hurt you, or any woman. Another reason I know what happened to your mother wasn’t the Bastards. We annihilate our enemies, but we never hurt women or children.”

“I want to believe you, but . . . you were wrong before. Not everything I said was a lie—the way you made me feel, the way I feel about you, that was all true.” I turned my face away not wanting to see his reaction. “I have to go.”

Smoke flipped his phone over and read the time. “It’s three a.m. let me take you.”

“I can’t let you take me to my real house.”

“Who owns the house where I took you the first night?”

“The woman who lives there works for us. She’s very special and was there for me after my mother died. She’s the one who taught me how to cook.”

“For that alone, I should thank her.” Smoke smiled, then sobered. “I don’t like you going back to Rico at all. Especially if you’re going to confront him.”

“He’s never shown that side to the family. I’ve never seen him violent in any way. I don’t know if he’ll be truthful, but I’m not worried about my safety.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed like he heard what I said, but didn’t believe it.

We silently dressed, and the mood quickly shifted from sensual to somber. Each of us lost in our own thoughts. When we were dressed he led me to the back lot where he parked his motorcycle. I hopped on behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and for the first time it felt real.

No fake stories.

No mistaken identity.

No lies.

Just two desperate people on a collision course sure to wreck us both.

Marisol wrapped her arms around my waist, and I tilted my head pressing my lips to hers in a soft, passion-filled kiss. Completely different from how the night started out. My whole life centered around staying five steps ahead of my enemies and not letting anyone or anything get to me.

I’d lied and played plenty of games but Marisol conning me was way more than business, and yeah, the primal bastard in me had wanted to hurt her, but not physically. My original anger centered around being played and finding out her feelings were fake, that every moan and gasp during sex was an act. I usually set the rules and broke the hearts, so being on the receiving end sucked.

We pulled up to the little house much too quickly. She unwound her arms from around my waist and climbed off my bike, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. I grabbed onto her hand.

“I don’t know how but we’re gonna figure this out.” She entwined her fingers with mine and I pulled her closer. “You believe me, right?”

She pressed her lips together and stayed silent.

“Don’t let your father know I figured out who you are. You wanna confront him, do it after I set up a meeting with him. I’ll make a deal that satisfies both him and the Bastards, but until then I don’t want you involved.” I cupped her cheek with my palm. “Understand?”

She nodded, and fuck me, but I wanted to believe her. “Text me when you get to the villa.”

She leaned in and hugged me, then stepped back. “As much as I want this to work, I really don’t think we have a chance. With all the?—”

“Yeah, sure, I get it.” I dragged up my tough guy act because I didn’t have anything else. I wanted to haul her into my arms and onto my bike, then whisk her away somewhere we’d be safe from her vicious father and all the shit in my past—but that fairy tale would never come true.

She squeezed my hand. “Be safe.”

“Always.”

She turned and fled to the door. I watched until she was inside, then I throttled the engine and pulled away from the curb. I rode for a long time, but no matter how I played it out in my mind, someone would come up the loser.

I wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the fact she could still be playing me and would report it all to Rico the minute she got to the villa. Rico hadn’t gotten where he was by backing down, not even for his daughter. I’d promised Marisol I’d work it out, but pleasing Jameson, my pissed off national prez, making a deal with a drug kingpin, and keeping the woman who brought me to my knees wasn’t gonna be easy.

I was used to getting a job done, and not letting anyone or anything stand in my way, but with odds this high it would be more than money at stake. I was prepared to fight for what I wanted, even if it meant going against Jamison and putting Rico in the ground.

It tore me up to admit it, but in the end, all that mattered was having Marisol safe and by my side.

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