And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2) (17 page)

“And now?”

“Now everything is so new. Real. Without any doubts.”

“Would you marry me?”

It’s very strange. The question leaves me lips to find out what her outlook is, not to actually ask her, but as those four simple yet monumental words float in the air, something inside of me shifts. Strengthens. Fortifies to understand I
did
hear what Marshall was saying and marriage
is
something I can see, without fear or uncertainty.

Looking at me through her lashes, I see Cecelia’s breath hitch. She understands, feels the change too. “I would.”

EIGHTEEN

My first match is easy. A newbie, Jefferson, who though he manages a couple of hits, basically taps out after ten minutes. That’s okay. He’s only nineteen, so he’s got plenty of time to learn and grow. He’s got potential, that’s for certain. I tell him as much and he smiles at me like I’m some kind of superstar or something.

It’s a little ridiculous the level of “fame” I seem to have acquired from my triple challenge. But there are tons of new fighters coming around and more spectators too.

“Just keep your head up,” I tell Jefferson as he walks to the curb to watch the rest of the fights and I work to avoid everyone who has come to paw at me.

It’s as I move to lean against the side of the closest apartment building, rundown and yet, host to an overflow of families, I see Celia. She’s stumbling a bit, and my skin prickles. I can’t tell if she’s drunk, since I’ve never seen her drunk before, hell, I’ve never seen her with a drink, even after all these years! I can tell however, that she is not right.

I move quickly to her, not wanting to draw too much attention to her but then not wanting anyone to notice her and try to say something like usual. They’re not as loud, but they still talk.

The moment I’m standing before her, I see her though her eyes are blood shot, they’re red-rimmed, like she’s been crying. And the little bit of makeup she wears is streaked down her cheeks. “Baby? Are you okay? Have you been drinking?” I ask gently as I reach out slowly, tentatively, not wanting to scare or spook her.

When those red eyes meet mine, I suck in a sharp breath. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that kind of pain pass through the butterscotch. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that level of agony written on her face.

“He’s dead, Chace,” she says with a sway, like she has been drinking, but I don’t smell anything on her. Her words are not slurred either, which given the way she’s swaying, they should be.

“Who is? Who’s dead?”

Shaking her head, Celia looks past me toward the groupies. They are all dressed the same tonight. Literally. Hot pink. Short skirts. Crop tops. Heels too tall for sanity. It’s ridiculous, to be honest. “If I wasn’t around, if you’d never ever known me, would you take one of them?”

“What?” Her question comes out of nowhere.

“Would you take one of them?” she asks again, voice empty. “After a fight, to celebrate, would you take one home and fuck her, do all the things you do to me, but to her? I mean why are you even with me?”

“Why am I…what are you talking about? Celia, no,
God
no. I told you. I don’t want anyone else, and it doesn’t matter if there was no you. I can’t win without you,” I shake my head and take her hand pulling her around the side of the building I’d been leaning against and in to the alley. I balance her against the side, watching for any more signs she’s drunk. I’m still not seeing any. “What’s going on? Why are you asking me this craziness? Who died?”

“Daddy Dearest is dead.”

My head snaps up and my mouth opens in shock. “What?”

A pitiful half smile lifts her pink lips. “Yup,” she says popping the ‘p.’

“What?” I ask again, like a jackass. “I mean what happened?”

“It’s funny, really,” she begins, a bitter laugh escaping. I see a couple tears fall as well. I don’t know who she’s crying for though. “Guess Sheriff Santos was making a traffic stop. This time, he messed with the wrong person.”

I remember during one of our group meetings, after Vinnie Santos had thoroughly embarrassed Cecelia that she opened a bit. She explained he enjoyed making people feel small, lower than him. She said traffic stops were his go-to if he was really desperate. People hate when cops roll up behind them. The
good
Sheriff
would follow his prey for blocks before flipping on his lights and pulling people over. Most of the time, Celia figures the drivers hadn’t actually done anything, her father was just bored.

He’d bully the driver, until they were terrified, then he’d let them off with a warning and a promise that he’d be watching.

Celia had told Chuck she’d learned about this after hearing her father on the phone one night. He’d been bragging about scaring the shit out of some new teenaged driver.

“They think it was one of the gangs. He was found shot next to his cruiser with a tag drawn on the car.”

“How did you find out?”

She shrugs. “Um, Marshall messaged me earlier while I was working. I called him before I got here. He’s never text just me before. He saw it on the news. Thought I should know.”

I can’t say I’m sorry that cowardly son of a bitch is gone. He was a vile human being. But I am worried about Celia. “Why are you crying, baby?”

She doesn’t answer me. Instead, her she lunges forward, her mouth attacking mine, her hands pulling at the belt loops on my jeans to pull me against her. I feel her tongue snake into my mouth as I try to ask what she’s doing. I’m momentarily distracted by the way her leg lifts, wrapping around my waist, aligning us perfectly. Though the weather is beginning to cool, she’s wearing one of her plaid skirts, so I feel the heat of her pussy against my crotch intensely.

“Help me forget about it, Chace,” she mewls into my mouth. “Help me forget how he never loved me, how no one has. Make me forget my own name.”

In the back of my mind, I know what the correct course of action is here. I know I should peel Celia off of me, should right our stances, and then hold her, comfort her. Take care of her in this pain she seems to be in. I
know
all of this. But what I know I should do and what my body wants are on opposite spectrums.

“Shit, are you sure,” I think I ask, though my tongue is fighting for dominance that I can’t be sure.

“Yes, fuck me.”

My hands caressing her breasts over the black wife beater she’s wearing, I pull away from her mouth and watch my hands lift her shirt, dragging her black cotton bra up with it. Her breasts bounce, the chrome bars shiny in the stagnant light outside of the alley. I lick my lips before bending down to take first one, then the other nipple into my mouth, tugging the points until Celia’s tugging my hair so hard, I feel pain.

I look quickly toward the way we came, scouting to see if anyone is watching or can see. Satisfied there’s no one there, I drop to my knees. I run my hands up and down Celia’s shapely legs, watching goose bumps form before I slip my fingers beneath her skirt, tugging her black bikini style panties down, helping one leg step out of them.

Her breath hitches as I lift her leg onto my shoulder. Keeping her skirt tucked against her soft belly, I keep my eyes on hers as I lean forward and give my first lick. She bites her lip, low moans bubbling from her chest as I eat her pussy slow, soft. Her fingers are back in my hair tugging, holding me against her as she grinds against my face. Her hips are fluid, making her beautiful tits bounce, and I change from soft to sucking hard on her clit.

“Oh fuck,” she cries, slamming her head against the brick.

Sneaking my hand up, I slip a finger into her and press forward, bringing forth her orgasm. More tears leak from her eyes and her chest heaves. “Fuck, I love the way you taste.” I move to my feet, unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans to release my dick. “Hang on, baby.”

My thrust is quick. She’s slick, heat and wet, her orgasm not yet through, so my intrusion sets off another. I press my lips against hers, kissing her soundly, halting any loud cries she may need to let out.

It’s so fucking glorious.

I don’t focus on the where. I don’t focus on the fact anyone can see us, stumble upon this act. I don’t care about any of it. All I feel is the fire. All I taste is the need. Celia’s legs wrapped around my waist tight, her pussy gripping my cock like a lifeline with my piercing dragging wonderfully against her walls, her breasts pressed against mine, and our mouths sealed together to bring about divinity.

“God I love you, baby,” I gasp as my own orgasm rushes forward, exploding out of me like lightning. “I love you so fucking much.”

I bury my face in the crook of her neck, panting from the exertion. Our skin is slick with sweat, our chests heaving into each other. Realizing I’m still holding her up against the building, I gently ease Celia away and then down, my still erect cock slipping from her with a wet pop. I tuck myself back into my pants, knowing I’m drenched in come but not really caring at the moment. With shaky hands I help Celia pull her bra back on correctly, and fix her shirt before bending over quick to help her slip her panties back on.

Just as her skirt flutters back against her thighs, I see a movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I notice Stretch walking our way. “There you are. Been looking for you. You’re up, man.”

I don’t know if he saw anything. His face is impassive, and he’s not trying to check out Celia or even appear guilty of watching. You never fucking know though. Still, I won’t draw attention to the situation. “Right. Be right there.”

“Sure.” He turns to leave but stops. “Everything okay?”

I go to respond but Cecelia beats me to it, her voice wobbly. “Yes, thank you. Chace will be right there. We’re done talking for right now anyhow.”

As I look at her, I see she’s wiping her cheeks, smearing further the streaks of mascara that’s run. “Tell them one minute.” Stretch nods and jogs away. It’s obvious from his question he hadn’t seen anything. At least not Celia and I fucking against the side of this building. But he did notice something. “Baby?”

“Thank you for helping me forget. If only for a little while,” she says with a watery smile and I want to punch myself. I am so fucking stupid. “You better go before they try to say you forfeit or something.”

“We’ll finish this discussion after I win. Got me?” I point at her, wanting her to see how serious I am. She just nods and slowly takes my hand before we walk out of the alley.

I make quick work of my opponents, realizing how easy this group is to defeat. I pocket two grand making a mental note to add this loot to the savings account. Now that we have a cushion, neither Cecelia nor I have any desire to lose it.

As Celia and I enter our apartment, and move to sit on our couch, I take her hand and look at her closely. She looks lost, vacant. I don’t understand what’s going on inside that mind of hers. “Celia?”

“Why are you with me, Chace?” she asks for the second time tonight.

“What do you mean?” Her question is perplexing. Why wouldn’t I be with her? There is no one else for me in this world.

“I don’t get it. You can have any woman you want. They throw themselves at you all the time and you settle for me. Why is that?” She doesn’t let me answer before she’s speaking again, rambling so fast I almost can’t keep up with her. “I mean I get it, we met as teenagers and we were thrown together so much that in some ways I was an obvious choice. Even though I know those other girls would’ve loved to have changed spots with me.

“But you stuck with me. Even after Trinity. You came to Chicago with me and kept with me even though this is a whole new city. You could have left, picked someone else, someone with more to offer you. I mean you kind of did, right? That’s what Hayley was, right? Better?”

Her tears build and fall and my heart cracks. Pulling her into my arms, I let her cry. I don’t know where this has come from, why she’s thinking these things all of a sudden. I wonder if she’s always thought them and just never said them, or if her father’s death has triggered something in her. Either way, I need to fix it. Fix her.

“Cecelia, I’m with you because I love you,” I begin and her tears pour harder. “I don’t know you think I can have any woman, because that’s not true. And to be honest, I really don’t want any other woman. I only want you. This isn’t settling. This is knowing with my whole heart that you are it for me. That I love you, only you, now and forever.” She hiccups and sniffles against my chest. “No one is better than you. Especially not Hayley. She had nothing to offer me. Nothing. I will forever regret hurting you the way I did.

“I will never be able to forgive myself for it, no matter how much time passes. Because it’s you. Only you who means the absolute world to me. And I am so fucking honored to not only know you, and have you in my life, but have your love in return.” She falls into lung constricting sobs, clinging to me as though she thinks I’ll disappear.

I won’t. Never again will I hurt her or walk away from her.

“I love you, Cecelia Santos. I love you so much I can’t breathe. I don’t know how to live without you. I can’t live without you.”

“I love you, too,” she tells me through a sob and my heart fills with her words.

“Do you believe me though?” I ask and she nods, pulling out of my embrace. Her face is splotchy from her tears, but she is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Yes, I believe you. I’m sorry for my outburst.”

I watch her wipe her face and try to collect herself. “What brought it on?” I ask gently.

“Nothing. Everything,” she exhales. “I haven’t thought of my father in years. He
abandoned
me, why
should
I think of him? But hearing that he’s dead, that I will never have a parent, I will never know or be able to have a chance at knowing a parent, it just broke something inside of me. He hated me so thoroughly and all I wanted was for him to care about me even a little.”