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
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
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
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
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
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 behind Miguel, my body pressed flush against his, his heat seeping straight into my cock.He was still speaking to John, handing papers across the table with a voice that was steady despite the tension vibrating in him. My eyes flicked across the warehouse again. The workers were scattered and their attention was locked on their tasks. None of them even glanced our way.Perfect. I grinned mischievously.The low hum of activity drowned out the quiet sounds of my belt slipping through the loops.Miguel cleared his throat. His voice was tighter now, his elbow nudging me in a silent warning. He was trying to push me back without drawing attention, but I stayed where I was, unmoved. The desire was a live current between us. John didn’t seem to notice a thing. His eyes remained on the receipts, his fingers flipping through the sheets Miguel handed over like nothing was amiss. Meanwhile, I pressed closer, allowing the table to hide the subtle grind of my hips.I leaned in
SALVATOREI blinked at Miguel, confused for a second.I knew something was off. He’d been quiet the entire ride, and his mood was sour even before we even left the house, but he hadn’t said a word about it.So I thought it was Emily weighing on him. I thought the heaviness in his chest belonged to her.But then he had suddenly snapped.“What the fuck is that?” he demanded, his finger stabbing toward the warehouse entrance where Karl had just disappeared with my coat. The fire in his eyes startled me. He had the kind of anger that was spontaneous and confusing. My heart jumped, my brow furrowing as I turned to him.“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice low but laced with concern. I stepped in closer, lifting my hands, instinct pushing me to touch him, but he swatted my hand away.His movements were sharp, his glare like a strike. He pointed again, the fury in him shaking loose. “When did you two get so damn close?” he bit out. “Why was he grinning at you like a sheep in heat, Sal? What th
MIGUELShe should have just died in that accident. It would have been better for everyone if she did.I stood by the window of my room with my arms folded tightly across my chest as I stared into the deepening twilight. The sky outside had bled into a bruised purple, shadows stretching long across the neighbourhood rooftops, but I hardly noticed any of it. My focus was locked inward on the boiling resentment twisting through me like smoke. From downstairs, Emily’s cries pierced the stillness reminding me of the storm that had moved back into this house.She was back. The bitch.Her return felt like a noose tightening around my throat. She was already taking up too much space, her voice dragging down every breath I tried to take. Every moan, every whimper from the living room tore at the fragile peace I’d been clinging to since Salvatore entered my life. She was shattering everything, as usual.Emily had always made things worse. Her brand of love had always come with strings, with
MIGUEL“Salvatore?”The evening light dyed the room in deep ember, glowing on the walls like a slow‑burning fire. I stretched under the sheets and called again, “Salvatore?”Every inch of my body stung with fatigue and satisfaction. Memories surfaced in small, delicious flashes. I could still feel Salvatore’s mouth on my skin and hear his gravel‑rough whisper of my name.I was about to call his name again when I saw it: a single sheet of thick ivory paper perched on the nightstand. I reached for it, squinting my brows, though I already knew who had left it.‘Gone to the warehouse to make sure things are in order. Be back soon.’Just seeing his pen strokes made me excited. It was like he was still here with his hand curved at my waist. I traced one dark slash of ink with my thumb, then grabbed my phone.“Hey, baby,” Salvatore answered after a single ring. His voice filled the quiet like velvet over stone. “You’re up.”“I woke up to you missing,” I admitted, shifting so the covers po
SALVATORETight heat enveloped me as I pressed into him, the sensation flooding every nerve with fire. I grunted into his mouth. The feeling was almost too much.His hole gripped my cock with a perfect blend of heat and pressure that made my breath hitch and my thoughts blur. Miguel let out a sound of his own, deep and broken, as his nails dragged across my back and shoulders, carving lines of raw need into my skin. I trembled as I sank deeper, my hands gripping his hips like I was afraid he’d vanish if I let go. His legs locked around my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. Our chests collided, slick with sweat, and our breath mingled in the heavy quiet of the room.“Salvatore…”I kissed him harder, desperate to taste every inch of him. And I did.I didn’t rush. I took my time, letting each movement speak for me, making every thrust deliberate. Miguel matched me without hesitation. His hips lifted to meet mine, our rhythm syncing with a kind of f
MIGUELI stormed into my room and walked over to my window, where I stood, with my arms folded tightly across my chest and my jaw locked as I stared down at the street below. My thoughts were a mess, circling the same memory on repeat: Paul’s face, the sharp crack of Salvatore’s fist, and the way I had to step in before it got worse. The anger was still fresh, crawling under my skin, making my body feel like a live wire.I couldn’t tell exactly why I was pissed, but one thing was sure, I wasn’t happy with what Salvatore did. I heard Salvatore come in but didn’t look away from the window. The quiet brush of his footsteps on the floor moved closer, then I felt the sudden warmth of his arms slide around me from behind. His chest pressed gently against my back, his breath soft when it touched the side of my neck. I couldn’t take comfort in it. I pulled away and shrugged off his arms without a word. He didn’t push. His hands fell to his sides, his voice turning softly. “I’m sorry,” he
MIGUELIt was annoying watching her being clingy to my man. Yes, you heard that right. He's mine. I had to stand back when the doctor stepped in, causing her to let go of Salvatore.“She is lucky her lungs weren’t punctured,” the doctor was saying, his voice touched with relief as he adjusted his glasses. He stood at the foot of her hospital bed with a clipboard in hand, his gaze flicking between her monitors and Salvatore’s bulky frame.The cause of the accident was annoying. It was clear from Salvatore’s expression that he didn’t want to be here, but, well, he was the one that was called. Salvatore turned to her, his arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenched. “Why would you get in a car with your friends when you were all drunk?” His eyes narrowed.Emily shrank back against the pillows, her face pale and blotchy from tears. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, twisting it between them as she mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Her voice was soft and cracked.She should have just died.
SALVATOREMorning light filtered through the office window, soft and golden, slipping across the sheets in slow-moving bands. I was still wrapped around Miguel, my chest pressed to his back, my arm resting over his waist. His skin was warm beneath my palm, golden from the sun and slightly damp from sleep. I leaned in and brushed my lips against his bare shoulder, tasting the remnants of last night’s closeness. My hand drifted across the smooth line of his stomach, memorizing every dip and ridge.His hair was messy, curling slightly at the ends, and it smelled sweet, like rest and shampoo, like something I never wanted to stop breathing in. The scent of him clung to me and the sheets, and it made something soft unfold in my chest. This didn’t feel real. The feeling of him close to me, and how easy it had been, finally, to hold him like this. After everything. After all the blood and fire and doubt. Now he was here, asleep in my arms, peaceful in a way I’d never seen.I smiled witho
MIGUEL“I told you I’m fine,” I grumbled, but the words were weak even to my ears as Salvatore tore open the drawer.He wasn’t listening to me, and I didn’t blame him. The fear I’d seen in his eyes in that warehouse was real. He grabbed antiseptic, bandages, ointments, and every other thing he needed to treat my cut. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid. We were finally back at the warehouse, and the men were celebrating their victory, but the bustle outside was barely audible through the thick walls.My name was on the lips of the men. They were surprised that I did that. Hell, someone even said he was surprised I’d been able to hold a gun properly. What a joke.He placed the supplies on the desk and turned toward me, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Sit,” he said. It was a command.I opened my mouth to argue, but his hand was already on my arm, guiding me toward the bed. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but I could feel his barely restrained fear.“I don’t care what yo