Love and Law (18 page)

My eyes find hers and I just shake my head. Tears spill down her cheeks and she looks guiltily away from me.

“Okay, little girl. You’ve got my attention. Tell them we’ll meet at our other office. Just Blaze, nobody else. I’m not dealing with his shit army. I want small bills. All of it,” he instructs. “But I want you there. Just in case this is some fucked-up plan to ruin me.”

“Is this fucking necessary?” I cry out, throwing my hands in the air.

He’s pissed me off now. There’s no way I want my girl right in the middle of the fucking firing squad. I have no doubt this ‘meeting’ will end badly and I don’t want her anywhere near it.

Oculus storms over to me and gets right in my face. Our noses nearly touch as we stare down each other, each one not backing away.

“Yes,
son
, it is necessary. I don’t trust this bitch as far as I can throw her. And now, with your sudden insubordination, I question it even more. So, yes, it is necessary. If you want to continue to be a loyal part of this company, then I suggest you get your face out of her pussy and back where it belongs—here beside me.”

My jaw clicks as I grind my teeth together. It takes everything in me not to punch this motherfucker in the jaw—the man I once looked up to. Right now, he can go to hell.

“If she goes, I go. And I’m packin’,” I growl.

A Cheshire cat grin spreads across his face, revealing several gold teeth. “So the good boy who doesn’t kill suddenly wants a gun? Well, fuck me sideways, this
is
true love.”

We silently stand off for several seconds before he retreats and heads back to his desk.

“We’re done here. I want a time that will happen tomorrow by the end of the night. Text me, Pac.”

Maya steals a glance in my direction and I slightly nod my head to the door. Understanding, she quickly heads to it.

“Don’t fuck me over, little girl. You’ll regret it. Don’t make me paint the fucking walls behind you with your blood,” he threatens.

I’m about to jump over that desk and choke the life out of him when I get a nudge from CJ, snapping me from my hate-filled intentions. I don’t give Oculus another word as I tear out of the office behind Maya. She’s already running down the hallway toward the doors to the exit. The stupid idiot she ‘beat up’ is sitting on the floor, moaning. My girl did a number on his mouthy ass.

“Baby girl, wait!” I call out right before she bolts out the door.

Ignoring me, she takes off in a full-on sprint down the alleyway. By the time I make it outside, I see her reach the end of the building and turn the corner. Fuck!

I hop in my car and back it up in the alley as fast as I can go without losing control and slamming it into a wall. Once I make it to the street, I see her hoofing it along. Turning my car in that direction, I gas it until I catch up with her quick little ass.

When I reach her, I roll down my window and holler out at her. “Get in the car.”

She continues running while I drive at her speed.

“Dammit, woman! Get in the fucking car or I’ll drag you into it. We need to talk.”

Her running slows until she comes to a complete stop. I see her shoulders slump forward, and she buries her face into her hands. Quickly, I throw the car into park and jump out. After jogging over to her, I approach slowly when I realize she’s crying so hard that she’s practically hyperventilating.

“Maya,” I say softly, wrapping my arms around her convulsing body.

“Ben, I’m so sorry. I messed up,” she tearfully tries to explain herself.

Rubbing her back, I attempt to figure out a way to get us out of this mess. “We’ll go into hiding. I’ve got my woodworking business. It’ll keep us afloat. You’re not going into that lion’s den, baby girl.”

She continues to cry but pulls her hands from her face and slips them around my body. “Ben, I’m a liar. You should hate me, but I don’t want you to. I’m so confused,” she says cryptically.

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. Come on. I’m taking you home.”

When she doesn’t argue, I guide her over to the car and help her in. Once she’s tucked safe inside, I jog back over to my side and get in. After I put the car in drive and take off, I grab ahold of her small hand and give it a squeeze.

I have so many questions for her, but right now, I just want her lying beside me while I stroke her hair. Was what she said in that office about loving me true? Why didn’t she tell me about talking to Blaze’s lackey? Why in the hell didn’t she just stay in the damn car? There are just so many fucking questions, but first, she needs comfort and I intend on providing that for her.

“We’re going to figure this out,” I promise, tightening my grip on her hand.

My heart breaks when she turns her tear-stained eyes toward me. “I don’t think we can.”

I’VE ROYALLY FUCKED THINGS UP. Not with my job—my duty toward our community. No, I’ve fucked things up with Ben—the man who pumps blood into my heart. I’m sick about it and he has no fucking clue that I’m a master of deception.

“Why don’t you run upstairs and take a shower? I’ll run interference with Grammy,” he suggests as we walk up the porch steps.

I nod as we go inside and I hightail it upstairs.

After quickly undressing once in the bathroom, I step into the steamy shower and attempt to wash away the day.

Oculus.
I remember the eye patch. My father’s killer wore an eye patch. It wasn’t until I saw that man tonight, that I realized Oculus was my father’s killer. For seventeen years, I imagined many different ways of taking that man’s life. Each scenario involved me going in guns blazing in true Maya fashion. Every single instance, that man’s blood was on my palms and I got my vengeance. The reality of it all was that, when I finally saw the evil man who ruined my life, I froze—panicked.

Disappointment in myself ripples through my veins and I’m nearly distraught over the entire ordeal. He intimidated me and cut me to my core. Bottom line is that Oculus scares the shit out of me. Sure, I still want to kill him, but I don’t know how I’ll have the courage. Just the sight of his eye patch had me choking on my words. How in the hell am I going to be brave enough to kill that fucker?

And killing him is the only option—no matter the consequence. Prison is a country club escape for that evil asshole. Death is definitely the answer. I just need to figure out a way to get my internal strength up to finish the damn job.

When I emerge from the shower in just a towel, I hear laughing from downstairs. Once I run over to the bedside, I yank up the phone and dial Miguel.

“It’s done,” I tell him when he answers.

“Where?”

I rattle off the address and tell him nine o’clock in the morning. “Things could get bad,” I warn.

I want to tell my best friend that I’ve found my father’s murderer, but I know what will happen. He’ll turn into a hero and have me pulled from the case. Miguel would know just as well as I do that this just became a conflict of interest. I’m not letting them ruin this for me.

“Maya, I’ve got your back.”

I thank him and hang up just as I hear Ben bounding up the stairs. Turning toward the door, I try not to look guilty and then stand to greet him. “Oh, hi,” I wave.

He narrows his gaze at me before his eyes peruse my towel-clad body. “Were you on the phone?”

I nod because nothing gets past this man. “I talked to Blaze’s contact. The meeting is at ten tomorrow morning.”

After pulling his phone from his pocket, he texts Oculus the time. Then he sets it down on the nightstand and kneels in front of me. When he places a large hand on my bare, still-wet thigh, I gasp. All it takes is a touch from him and my thoughts are already getting muddled. He surprises me though and bends all the way down to look under the bed. His hand might as well be on fire because his touch is burning me, sending electric currents of need straight to my core.

He drags a small safe out from underneath the bed, piquing my curiosity. Removing his hand from my thigh after a slight squeeze, he opens the safe, revealing two handguns. I’m shocked when he hands me one.

“You’re taking this tomorrow. I’ll take this one. If things get out of hand, you need a way to protect yourself. Do you know how to use a gun?” he asks gently.

Once again, shame courses through my veins. Of course I know how to use a gun. I’m a fucking hard-ass detective with the Detroit PD, but he doesn’t know that.

“Yes. I’m familiar and have good aim,” I tell him truthfully.

He grins at me with such pride that I suddenly feel sick. I feel sick that I must deceive him. He sets down his gun on the nightstand beside his phone. His eyes are trying to peel away layers of my soul as he attempts to search for the real me. I hate that I have to hide that from him. He takes the gun from my hand and puts it on the table.

Still kneeling, he dips his head down and kisses my thigh. Goose bumps scatter over my flesh. I promised myself and Miguel that I would end this. But as his hands now massage me above my knees while he tastes my flesh just where the towel ends, I lose myself in the moment. His hands push my knees apart and I gasp. The towel slides up and reveals my nakedness underneath.

I whimper when his hands trail their way up under my towel and caress my hips while his tongue teases me, inching up little by little. Hot breath tickles me between my legs and I fall backwards onto the bed, anticipating what’s to come. He groans in desire right before that expert tongue drags along the lips of my pussy.

“Ben,” I moan. My towel has fallen away, and I touch my nipples, giving them a little pinch.

His tongue strokes me again and I nearly buck off the bed. The slow, lazy way he does it drives me slightly insane, but I love it.

“You smell like soap but taste like honey, baby girl,” he praises, sending ripples of happiness to my heart.

When he pushes his tongue inside me, I cry out. So slippery yet strong, it teases me. He pulls it out again and licks me hard all the way back up to my clit, where he quickly circles it. I’m starting to involuntarily thrust my pussy against his tongue, carnal desire taking control over my body. He rewards me by not stopping his assault, instead going quicker and firmer. I’m humping his face without shame when he slides two fingers into my wet entrance.

“Oh, God, more!”

He finger-fucks me and owns me with his tongue until I come long and hard. Once I’m done and panting hard on the bed, he pulls away and begins stripping. Lifting up on my elbows, I admire his physique. I love his perfectly sculpted body—the way his tattoos paint the flesh beautifully. His lower stomach muscles are shaped into a ‘V’ that points right to his enormous cock, which is still hiding in his boxers. Sexy tattoos paint his dark skin, making him look badass. When he slides his boxers down, his dick bounces out and bobs heavily as he kicks away the rest of his clothes. While he searches the bedside table for a condom, I slide three fingers to my pussy and massage myself in large, slow circles.

He sheathes himself and turns his attention back to me, eyeing me hungrily. “Maya, you’re so beautiful. I want you so bad.”

Whimpering, I nod and spread my legs wide open for him but continue pleasing my clit. He puts a knee on the bed and slides a hand under my ass, pushing us up farther on the bed. I lie back as he lines himself up against the entrance of my body that is trickling with arousal. Pushing slowly but firmly, he fills every square inch of my sex with his full, throbbing cock.

“God, you always feel so fucking good,” he groans as he begins thrusting into me. His pace is just quick enough that his balls slap my asshole, and fuck if I don’t have an urge to want him there again too.

He covers me with his body so that our chests mash together, forcing me to slide my hand away and abandon my self-pleasuring. We’re both already perspiring, so we’re creating a slippery friction that adds to the overall insanely delicious feelings coursing through our bodies. His mouth descends upon mine and he kisses me gently. It feels as if he’s trying to tell me words with his mouth and body.

“Was it the truth?” he growls against my lips as he thrusts powerfully into me.

I’m beginning to feel another orgasm teasing my nerves, so I’m temporarily at a loss for words. “Mmmm,” I mumble, getting even closer to the edge.