I stuffed everything I came with back into the bag.I was so scattered that I added the blanket I was given. I tossed it out after I realized I’d made a mistake, but I ended up tossing some of the things I’d arranged. Paul leaned against the doorway, watching me, his arms crossed loosely. I would hear occasional sighs and exhales, but he said nothing.When I finally finished, I zipped the bag, slung it over my shoulder, and turned to him. His place once felt like a lifeline, a quiet and safe place, and it was already slipping away.“Thanks for everything,” I smiled, my voice low, real. “You didn’t have to let me crash here, but you did.”He stepped closer and pulled me into a hug. What was with the frequent hugs? I wasn’t complaining though. His grip was tight, warm. “You can stay as long as you want, Miguel. The door is always open.”I hugged back in gratitude. “I appreciate it, but I gotta go.”His eyes were soft as he nodded. “Are you sure? I could ask around and find you a new s
Salvatore walked toward the bed, his eyes tracing my body. I could see the questions in his eyes, but I had questions, too. I had questions as to why I couldn’t stop thinking of this man, or why my life was somehow turning apart while I watched, or fucking why I was rejecting help when it was right in front of me. Danger, yes… This was a dangerous man. My life would probably be unsafe with him.But even as I stroked down again, moaning as the rush hit me, I knew that was a lie. I would be heavily protected with Salvatore. So what was wrong?His eyes locked on me darkly, slicing sharply through my flushed skin. “Hey.” I bit a corner of my lip and smiled, still stroking softly. I sprawled there, clothes off, my skin bare in the dim light. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice husky, low, cutting through the quiet. Wasn’t it obvious what I was doing? He didn’t wait for a response. His hand moved, and brushed mine aside, resting where I’d been, warm and firm against me. “Hmm.” H
MIGUELPaul’s hands slid to my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. I was holding my breath, trying not to flip, but it wasn’t working. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of a plan that I knew could cause disaster. Had Paul always been this handsome?Or… was it the alcohol?He snaked his tongue out, wetting his lip, adding shine to them. Okay, he was handsome. And maybe…“Are you fine?” he asked, his voice low, soft with worry. Our gazes locked and held there, seconds stretching into more heavy silence. My chest tightened. His face was close, his breath brushing my skin. My mind spun around as I thought about how crazy it would be to use Paul to push Salvatore away from my thoughts.Maybe I was this way because I’d refused to allow myself some physical intimacy. Paul could help me forget Salvatore.His eyes dug into mine with a fierceness that made me more worried than scared about what I was able to do. “Paul,” I said softly, barely above a whisper. “Yeah?” he muttered, his voice rou
SALVATOREI stood in the warehouse, flipping through a stack of papers, my eyes scanning numbers that didn’t add up. I hated this, but John had insisted that I come here. I wasn’t in the right state of mind, and I didn’t need this stress.John was hunched over a table nearby, receipts spread out, his pen scratching quickly on some papers as he made calculations. The guy running this place, Eddie, stood in front of me with his arms crossed tight, his face pale. His eyes were wide like he thought I’d snap his neck. Maybe I would. I hated incomplete figures and messed-up calculations because they hinted at stealing.Sincerely, I wanted this to be a case of stealing. I would finally have a place to push all these pent-up emotions into. But even as I worked, I couldn’t focus my attention on the figures. There was a reason Miguel was doing everything he could to fight me, and sincerely, it was infuriating. I couldn’t think of one reason why he didn’t see me as a good fit for him. My profe
PROLOGUEMIGUELThe room was dim, shadows licking the walls as the single lamp cast a golden glow over Salvatore’s broad frame. He stood some feet away, shirt unbuttoned, that dagger tattoo peeking out beneath his collarbone. I swallowed loudly as his amber eyes burned into me like I was the only thing in the world worth devouring. My breath hitched, my chest getting tight with a mix of want and dread. I’d never done this, never let anyone tie me up, or trusted anyone to take me apart like he promised. My hands trembled as I stood by the bed, the silk ropes coiled on the mattress making my stomach twist. What if I couldn’t handle it? What if I broke?“Shh,” Salvatore murmured, his voice a low rumble that slid over my skin like a caress. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing my jaw. “You’re safe with me. I’ll take care of you.” His touch was firm but gentle as he tilted my chin up so I had to meet that smoldering gaze. The fire in his eyes was patient like he’d wait forever if it
MIGUELThe bar smelled like stale beer and desperation, a haze of cigarette smoke curling through the air as laughter and slurred voices bounced off the chipped walls.I wove through the crowd, tray balanced on one hand, while the other itched to shove someone—anyone—who got too close. At 20, I shouldn’t still be here, slinging drinks for tips I’d never see enough of, but life didn’t give a shit about age. My sneakers stuck to the floor with each step, the soles worn thin from nights like this. Endless, loud nights full of assholes who thought I was part of the menu. I adjusted my grip on the tray, four beers sloshing in their glasses as I caught a flicker in the corner of my eye. There, in the dark part of the club, in the shadowed nook where the lights didn’t dare reach, a figure sat still as stone, staring. Always staring.I rolled my eyes, gritting my teeth. Another fucking creep. The men here were predictable. Their eyes would crawl over me like I was some prize to paw at, mouth
MIGUELThe front door creaked as I shoved it open, the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume hitting me like a slap. Home. If you could call it that. I kicked off my sneakers. The bar’s grime still clung to them, and I didn’t need screams from Emily about me soiling the house.I took the next step and paused as I heard it. Emily’s voice. She was loud and shameless, moaning like a damn porn star from upstairs. My stomach turned, but I kept moving, dragging my tired ass up the narrow staircase. Each step groaned under me. The wood was warped from years of neglect, and the closer I got with each creak, the louder her noises echoed off the peeling walls.“Jesus, woman, shut up,” I mumbled under my breath. I just wanted to crash, to wash the day off me, especially the drunk’s hands, the shadow man’s stare, and the endless grind. But no, she had to make her private life a goddamn show.I hit the landing and cursed under my breath. Her bedroom door was flung wide open like she wante
SALVATOREI was here again, just as I’d been for the past week, nursing countless hard-ons and watching him do his job. It had taken everything in me not to leap at the drunk bastard that touched him three nights ago. Looked like my sexy interest had it under control though.I sat in the shadows, the dark corner of the bar swallowing me whole, but my eyes were still locked on him. The amber glow of the lamp barely touched him, but it was enough to trace the lean lines of his body as he moved between tables, tray in hand, serving drinks to men who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air. I’d been here almost every night for weeks, whiskey untouched, just watching. That lovely frame of his—wiry, sharp-edged, deceptively soft—hid a fire I couldn’t shake from my mind. Behind those hazel eyes clouded with pain, burned stubbornness and steel resolve that dared anyone to try controlling him. And fuck, I wanted to.I wanted to see him bend beneath me, break, beg, his defiance shattering into
SALVATOREI stood in the warehouse, flipping through a stack of papers, my eyes scanning numbers that didn’t add up. I hated this, but John had insisted that I come here. I wasn’t in the right state of mind, and I didn’t need this stress.John was hunched over a table nearby, receipts spread out, his pen scratching quickly on some papers as he made calculations. The guy running this place, Eddie, stood in front of me with his arms crossed tight, his face pale. His eyes were wide like he thought I’d snap his neck. Maybe I would. I hated incomplete figures and messed-up calculations because they hinted at stealing.Sincerely, I wanted this to be a case of stealing. I would finally have a place to push all these pent-up emotions into. But even as I worked, I couldn’t focus my attention on the figures. There was a reason Miguel was doing everything he could to fight me, and sincerely, it was infuriating. I couldn’t think of one reason why he didn’t see me as a good fit for him. My profe
MIGUELPaul’s hands slid to my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. I was holding my breath, trying not to flip, but it wasn’t working. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of a plan that I knew could cause disaster. Had Paul always been this handsome?Or… was it the alcohol?He snaked his tongue out, wetting his lip, adding shine to them. Okay, he was handsome. And maybe…“Are you fine?” he asked, his voice low, soft with worry. Our gazes locked and held there, seconds stretching into more heavy silence. My chest tightened. His face was close, his breath brushing my skin. My mind spun around as I thought about how crazy it would be to use Paul to push Salvatore away from my thoughts.Maybe I was this way because I’d refused to allow myself some physical intimacy. Paul could help me forget Salvatore.His eyes dug into mine with a fierceness that made me more worried than scared about what I was able to do. “Paul,” I said softly, barely above a whisper. “Yeah?” he muttered, his voice rou
Salvatore walked toward the bed, his eyes tracing my body. I could see the questions in his eyes, but I had questions, too. I had questions as to why I couldn’t stop thinking of this man, or why my life was somehow turning apart while I watched, or fucking why I was rejecting help when it was right in front of me. Danger, yes… This was a dangerous man. My life would probably be unsafe with him.But even as I stroked down again, moaning as the rush hit me, I knew that was a lie. I would be heavily protected with Salvatore. So what was wrong?His eyes locked on me darkly, slicing sharply through my flushed skin. “Hey.” I bit a corner of my lip and smiled, still stroking softly. I sprawled there, clothes off, my skin bare in the dim light. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice husky, low, cutting through the quiet. Wasn’t it obvious what I was doing? He didn’t wait for a response. His hand moved, and brushed mine aside, resting where I’d been, warm and firm against me. “Hmm.” H
I stuffed everything I came with back into the bag.I was so scattered that I added the blanket I was given. I tossed it out after I realized I’d made a mistake, but I ended up tossing some of the things I’d arranged. Paul leaned against the doorway, watching me, his arms crossed loosely. I would hear occasional sighs and exhales, but he said nothing.When I finally finished, I zipped the bag, slung it over my shoulder, and turned to him. His place once felt like a lifeline, a quiet and safe place, and it was already slipping away.“Thanks for everything,” I smiled, my voice low, real. “You didn’t have to let me crash here, but you did.”He stepped closer and pulled me into a hug. What was with the frequent hugs? I wasn’t complaining though. His grip was tight, warm. “You can stay as long as you want, Miguel. The door is always open.”I hugged back in gratitude. “I appreciate it, but I gotta go.”His eyes were soft as he nodded. “Are you sure? I could ask around and find you a new s
MIGUELI scrambled through my stuff, grabbing a shirt, jeans, and my jacket. My hands shook as I shoved them into a bag. Fuck this. Fuck me. I couldn’t stay here, not with Salvatore’s scent still on me, not after what happened at the beach.“I’m going insane.” I closed my eyes tightly and dug my fingers into my hair, pulling on them until I felt pain.What exactly what I thinking? How the fuck had I allowed Salvatore to touch me back at the diner, and now feed me his cock at the beach? How?But even as I reprimanded myself, I knew I was hard. I cursed softly under my breath, running into the bathroom, and slamming the door behind me. I fucking hated this.My fingers worked faster than I could process, yanking my pants down, and lubing my cock up with some saliva.Salvatore’s face flashed in my head and I forced my eyes open. My teeth grinded hard against each other. “You fucking slut,” I snarled at myself, pouring some more saliva onto my cock and jerking faster. Maybe this would he
MIGUELOh, fuck. The taste was unlike anything I’d ever had in my life. First, it was the unwelcome sensation of having my mouth filled and stretched to its breaking point, but as soon as I went ahead for the next five seconds, my body adjusted.He tasted warm, hot, insatiable. The mix of that masculine scent I’d come to obsess over drove me nuts.My knees sank deeper into the sand, the grains cool against my skin as I moved, my lips brushing the tip, then sinking, taking as much of his cock as I could. Salvatore’s hand stayed in my hair, his fingers curling through the strands, guiding me gently. “Slowly, Miguel. Ah, yes, right there.” I moaned softly around him, the sound coming out muffled as saliva tricked from the sides of my mouth onto his thighs. His taste hit me again—sharp, warm, with a little mix of salt and him—and I couldn’t pull back. Fuck, I didn’t want to. My mind yelled at me. A jumbled mess of “What am I doing?” and “This man is my stepfather” echoed through my h
MIGUELAn angel? No, this wasn’t an angel. Though he seemed like one when he swooped in with fury and grace, angels don't kill people and batter bodies, like the buzz-cut guy by the gate, who was left bleeding in the dirt. I snaked my hand to his chest as he lowered me into the passenger seat, his intoxicating scent of leather, smoke, and something sharp, hitting me like a ton of bricks. My fingers lingered, tracing the hard lines beneath his shirt. I caught my breath as the warmth of him seeped through. He eased me down gently and stared at me for some seconds.“Where are we going?” I asked quietly, my voice rough, barely above a whisper.“Home.” Salvatore’s hand brushed my cheek tenderly, his thumb grazing the bruise. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”I nodded slowly. My throat was tight and his touch sent spasms through me. He buckled the seatbelt and reached to close the door, but I grabbed his arm quickly. “Wait, Salvatore. My knife is inside, on the floor.”He paused for a mo
SALVATORE“Hey John, I’ll call you back. Just got to the house.” I slid the phone into my pocket and took a long sigh. The air felt heavy, pressing on my chest as I pushed the door open.That was enough discussion about deals and shipments. John could handle the rest.I stepped into the sitting room. It was empty. The couch was bare, the TV staring blankly back at me. I stood there with my hands in my pockets, breathing slowly to calm the buzz in my nerves. No sounds, no clatter, just silence. I didn’t know if Miguel was home, and I hoped he was. I hoped he’d seen the flowers and felt something… anything.My mind spun restlessly. I didn’t know enough about him to understand his reaction to my apology. Would he laugh and toss the flowers and note aside, or would let them sit there, softening him up? I wanted him to feel that pull that I couldn’t shake, but I didn’t know where he stood. I’d kissed him and it felt like heaven. Fuck! It felt so damn good. I wanted to kiss him again, ta
MIGUELThe knock at the door got frantic as loud bangs rattled the frame. “Who the fuck is that?” I stepped back, my heart slamming hard, and Emily stumbled beside me. My focus was solely on the door, but I could clearly see her hands trembling. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging in, her breath shaky and fast. “They’re here,” she whispered, her eyes wide with terror. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the door burst open. The wood cracked under the weight that drove through it, the locks clanging to the floor.A man stepped in, tall and broad, his leather jacket creaking as he moved. His face was hard, jaw square, and a scar cut through his left eyebrow. Dark hair slicked back, eyes cold and grey, he carried a weight that filled the room.The first thing I looked at was his hips. There was no visible ammunition, thankfully.Two others flanked him. They were quieter and their hands hovered near their waists like they were ready to pull something out. Fuck!The man