Her mouth went dry. She closed the toilet lid and collapsed on top of it. Her chest felt hard and cold inside. “We left him there to die.”
He crouched before her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Except he didn’t die. And when he came to the house last night, he’d already killed Traquero.”
She blinked, the movement irritating her gritty, tired eyes. “He must’ve flown to the Keys to help Mom.” She nodded to herself, swallowing past a tight throat. “He could’ve killed Traquero on his way back. But how did he know how to find him?” A horrible thought clenched her stomach. “What if he knows about Camila and the others?”
His hand wrapped around her neck, his thumb stroking the skin below her ear. “Think about why he killed Traquero.”
The only things predictable about Van were his jealousy and his hypocrisy. “Traquero hurt me.” Van had no qualms raising a hand to her, but Traquero had overstepped, recklessly. Van probably killed the wife in front of him just to make him suffer. “I think he packed up and left with the intention of protecting Mom and disappearing. When he failed, maybe he came back to avenge Mom’s death.” Would he do that? For her? The ache in her chest said, Yes.
“I despise Van.” He tilted his head. “But his behavior in the kitchen when you shot him…” A line formed between his dark eyebrows. “I got the sense that he was done. With Mr. E. With the whole operation.”
She sifted through her memories of the prior night when he was bleeding all over the floor. She couldn’t pick out a single word, expression, or action that suggested ill-intent. “If he knew about Camila and the others, he’d have no reason to harm them.” Her shoulders loosened. “He’s not a threat.”
He pulled her to the edge of the toilet seat, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his forehead on her belly. “You’re not leaving my sight.”
Her hands went to his hair, raking through the messy black strands. “I can work with that.” She lowered her lips to his head and filled her nose with his warm, comforting scent.
A fist knocked on the door. “Joshua?” Emily called. “Are you in there?”
His moan rumbled through her. He raised his head and kissed her lips. “I’ll be right outside that door.”
Chapter 44
Twenty minutes later, Liv was showered, dressed in the pajama set Camila gave her, and wrapped in blankets on the couch. The kitchen light trickled into the sitting room, accompanied by low murmurs. Josh and his parents were still awake, gathered at the kitchen table around the corner. She’d declined the biscuits Emily made, too exhausted to eat. It must’ve been around seven in the morning before sleep finally took her.
Not long after, she woke, cradled in his arms, her body pressed against his chest as he carried her through the brightening house. Stubborn man was breaking his parents’ rules.
“Aren’t your parents due to get up?” she whispered.
“We’ve already done all the morning chores. They just passed out.”
She grinned, hooked her arms around his neck, and found his mouth.
His tongue met hers eagerly, his lips wet and inviting. In his unlit room, he closed the door with a quiet click and dropped her on a mattress. The shades blacked out the daylight, drenching the room in darkness. She hadn’t been in there yet, and when she scooted back to make space for him, she quickly learned how damned small his bed was. Her head thumped against the wall. She cringed, hoping she hadn’t awakened his parents. “How the hell do you fit in this?” she whispered.
Clothes rustled, his breaths deepening, growing closer. “You’re about to see how both of us fit.”
The mattress dipped and hands grabbed her top, stripping it over her head. Her sleep shorts went next. Then he was on her, spreading her thighs, his naked body sliding over hers, his cock prodding between her legs, coaxing a delicious spark of fire.
His teeth caught her nipple, tugging and stretching. Her hands fisted in the sheets. His fingers swept along her sides, his weight wonderfully heavy, his hips grinding against hers.
Her back arched, and she bit her lips to trap a moan. “Josh,” she whispered.
The box springs creaked as he lifted his body and flipped her to her belly. Kneeling between her legs, his fingers skimmed up her inner thighs, dipped through her wetness, and entered her.
Pleasure shivered through her. He thrust his hand, his fingers dragging along her inner walls, his panting so incredibly erotic. Her hands ached to touch him. Her body burned to be stroked harder. When his fingers slid out, she held her breath, expecting his cock. Instead, a soaked fingertip pressed against the pucker of her ass. She looked over her shoulder but couldn’t see him through the dark.
“Van has taken you here?” His whisper was hoarse.
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes, knowing his jealousy would be rising to the surface and stirring his instinct to claim her.
“Are you healed?”
“Yes.” It had been a week since Traquero had hurt her. A couple times, during moments like this one, she’d watched Josh spread her cheeks and stare at her anus while fucking her. She knew what he wanted. She’d never willingly given her ass to anyone, but he wasn’t just anyone. “It’s yours.”
His breath stuttered, and his finger pushed past the ring of muscle, intensifying the throb in her pussy. He choked. “Holy hell, Liv. You’re so tight. And hot.” He moved his finger in and out, and his thigh trembled against hers. “I want this, badly.”
“Take it, Josh. Do you have lube?”
“No.” He half-groaned, half-laughed, circling his finger. His other hand held her waist in a death grip.
The sensations from his invasion vibrated across her skin, electrifying every cell in her body. “Use spit,” she panted.
The hand on her waist vanished. She heard him spit and pictured him stroking himself, lubricating his cock as he fingered her ass. Fuck, she was going to come quick. She dropped her head to the pillow.
His finger slipped away, and something much larger nudged her opening. She pushed against him. He swept a warm palm up and down her spine. His hand lingered on her tail bone, pressing down, and he worked his cock in slowly, cautiously, despite his quickening exhales.
They gasped in unison as his hips bumped her ass, his length buried fully inside her. He bent over her back and cupped her breasts. “Not gonna last long.”
“Me neither.” She rotated her hips. “Now move.”
He moved. Oh God, did he move. She gripped the edge of the mattress and smothered her yelps in the pillow. He pistoned his hips, filling her over and over with an overwhelming tempo of speed and power. The bed squeaked. She didn’t care. Her body was on fire, her desire for him tunneling through her and awakening all her pleasure points.
His tongue dragged up her spine, and his fingers slipped into her pussy. She exploded in a spasm of quivering limbs and stammering breaths, her inner walls convulsing around his fingers. His strokes slowed, his mouth open and panting against her shoulder. He came with his face buried in her neck and his arms locked around her, clutching her back to his chest.
She sighed, smiling, as he rolled them to their sides. “You just fucked my ass with your parents on the other side of the wall.”
“At least, they didn’t come in.” He pulled out, rubbed something soft and cottony between her legs and cleaned himself. “There’s no lock on the door.”
Her gaze flew to the vicinity of the door. Was he trying to get busted? “Did you just clean your dick with your t-shirt?”
“Yep.” He tossed it through the dark room, and it landed with a thud in the corner. “I’ll make sure it gets in the hamper tomorrow.”