Tug (34 page)

“This is make-up sex, so fuck me like you’re mad at me.”

I let out a growl. “That dirty mouth of yours is going to ruin me.”

“Good, now do what you were told.” She tries to keep a straight face, although her giggling gives her away.

I accommodate her immediately by pounding into her hard and fast, struggling to keep my arms braced above her. As the pressure builds and the tingling starts, I close my eyes in anticipation. One more thrust and I stiffen, my ass flexing with release as a raging tidal wave of unbearable intense pleasure ripples through me, bringing with it an exhilarating feeling of euphoria, a drug-like high that I never want to come down from. I feel disconnected from reality as pure bliss weighs me down and I cry out.

Its only when I feel her fist slam into my chest, and she struggles to get out from underneath me that I realize what I cried out. I grab on to her and pin her down to the couch.

“No, fuck. I’m sorry.”

Her brusque laugh is followed with, “You’re sorry?”

“It’s not what you think. I was thinking about her.” Her hips fly up, attempting to buck me off of her. “Fuck … that came out wrong, okay. My brain was ready to go again, and I was thinking about when she’d be bringing Javier back and if we had time for the counter in the kitchen, my desk, the shower. I knew who I was with, because you’re the only woman who knocks me into fucking oblivion like that.”

“Okay.” She exhales and a smile touches her soft pink lips. “I trust you and I believe you, because I know how your greedy mind operates when it comes to sex.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Does that mean we can try the desk?”

She bites her lip. “I was thinking the balcony.”

My head falls forward. “You’re really are trying to ruin me.”

I stand and haul Maria into my arms. Her letting the incident go so easily, if possible, makes me love her even more. I was honest with her about why Tori was on my mind, but a part of me knows there’s more than what I shared. That the guilt consuming me about almost kissing Tori weighs heavily on my conscience.

T
ug had dinner catered and it’s on the table when the doorbell rings at seven. He holds my hand, brushing our noses together. “You can do this.”

He answers the door. My father enters first, dressed more casually than our first meeting in tan slacks and a navy blue polo shirt. A boy and a girl follow behind him much younger than I expected, maybe eight and ten. The boy is older and looks like my father, but the girl is a direct reflection of me at her age. It’s surreal, the feeling so intense I can’t speak. Tug greets my father as I stand staring at the two children before me, their expressions mirroring my own. My father’s voice snaps me out of my trance. “Maria, this is Alejandro and Leticia. You’re brother and sister.”

Alejandro is also my father’s name, I found out on the flight home from Monterrey. Both children say hello. My mouth finally forms a full blown smile as I shake each of their hands.

“Javier,” I call down the hall to his bedroom. “Come out here, please.”

He skips down the hall, stopping next to me, his body glued to the side of my leg. With a hand on his shoulder I say, “Javier, sweetheart, I’d like you to meet Alejandro and Leticia, your … aunt and uncle.”

It feels so strange to say, not only because I never knew I had siblings, but because they’re barely older than Javier. They both say hello to Javier. He squishes his nose up, and I can tell he’s confused.

“Remember when I told you that I hadn’t seen my dad in a long time, but he was coming to dinner tonight?” He nods. “These are his kids, so that makes them my brother and sister, and your aunt and uncle.”

“Like Aunt Tori and Aunt Liv?”

“Exactly.”

“But they’re little like Drew, doesn’t that make them cousins?” The room erupts with laughter.

“You know what. You can think of them as cousins. No problem,” my father says, and my skin bristles with anger.

“Are you my uncle, too?” Javier asks.

“No, Javier.” I take a deep breath before I tell him this man is my father.

“So what does that make him to me?”

His question hits me like a brick and I don’t know how to respond. I’m not ready for Javier to think of my father as his grandpapa. Before I say anything, my father responds. “For now, how about a friend you’re having to dinner.”

“Okay.” Javier smiles and invites Alejandro and Leticia to play in his room.

Once they’re gone, I turn to my father. “Thank you for that.”

“You don’t have to thank me. With time, I hope to be Papa, but I didn’t come here to pressure you.”

Tug goes to the bar and corks a bottle of wine. I offer my father a glass but he declines and sits down at the table.

“You two have a lot to talk about. I’m going to hang out with the kids for a few minutes,” Tug says, leaving me alone with a man I feel strongly connected to. A part of me craves the connection and another part of me is repulsed by it.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” my father says, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.

“It’s Tug you need to thank.” I’m curious why his wife isn’t with him and ask.

“She’s in Guadalajara with her sister.” His lips turn down, and something in his expression tells me there are problems in his marriage, but he volunteers nothing.

I sit next to him at the table. “I’m not happy with you using Tug to get to me, but I will listen to whatever you came to say.”

He holds his hand to his mouth, stroking his top lip with his index finger. “I’m not using Mr. Hunter. I require his services to please both my wife and yourself.”

“That’s a somewhat evasive answer. If you expect me to listen, I expect you to get to the point.”

He smiles, almost proudly, and then takes a drink of water. “You’re so much like your mother.” I don’t respond, and he continues. “The cartels have always been a dirty business, but they’ve lost integrity over the years. It used to be cartels had a mutual respect, lines that would never be crossed. Slowly the lines blurred until they completely disappeared.”

His words are still murky, and I have no idea where he’s going. “I don’t see your point yet, and, you’re running out of time. I understand why you made the choices you did, but if you have no intention of abandoning the lifestyle, then I’m not sure we have anything to discuss.”

“And that brings me to my point. Recently, my family has been threatened by rival cartels. Like you, my wife wants me out of the business. I’m a tired old man that wants to stay married and have a relationship with my daughter. I want to quit.”

“You said that isn’t possible.”

“Nothing is entirely impossible. I’m old enough now that I can pass my empire onto someone else, but the money is cartel money. It stays with the empire. I refuse to be poor again. I came to see Mr. Hunter, hoping he could help me with some investments that could make sure I retire with enough money to live comfortably.”

I sit quietly, soaking in everything he just said. “Can you do that?”

His shoulders lift. “No one ever has, and I don’t have any idea if it will work. From what I know of your boyfriend, he’s brilliant, and I believe if anyone can make it work, it’s him.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’m a dead man,” he says so matter of fact, as if dying doesn’t terrify him.

“You would risk death for me?”

“I would risk anything to have you in my life.”

T
hree weeks have flown by since Maria made peace with her father. His account is in fact the largest Gibson Capital has ever taken on, and it’s already seeing lucrative returns. Soon, and with some help, I’ll transfer the cartel’s money back to him, creatively re-routing the dividend portion to his personal account, minus Gibson’s share, and he can turn over everything to some eager volunteer.

It didn’t take long for Javier to start calling him Papa, and we’ve been to Monterrey a couple of times to spend time with Alejandro and his family. His wife, Guadalupe, welcomed Maria with open arms. Seeing them together is heartwarming. Maria’s mother died when she was so young, and although Guadalupe will never replace her, Maria is growing extremely close to her.

Harrison seems to be steadfast in proving his commitment to Liv. He’s still difficult to stomach, but I make an effort to make my sister happy.

I spend more time with Tori than I undoubtedly should, and Maria is more understanding than she probably should be. I know it bothers her, but her trust in me is absolute, and there’s a tiny voice in the back of my mind, telling me I don’t deserve it.

The stories about Brady fucking different women every night continue to circulate, and I can’t get Tori to stop reading them. Brady assures her nothing is going on, and that it’s all publicity tactics by the record label that he has little control over, although he hates it as much as she does. Her hormones are all over the place, and I think she believes him, but it makes her depressed all the same. So, I try to help by being a good friend, spending time with her, and letting her vent her frustrations.

I
t’s Thursday, and I took the day off to spend with Maria and Javier. We have lunch at a new restaurant that opened up near the beach, one of those ones where the games outnumber the tables and it’s more like an amusement park than an eating establishment. My phone rings right after the food arrives. It’s Tori and I see Maria’s face twist up in irritation. I promised her and Javier an uninterrupted day together.

“Hello,” I answer, holding my hand over the ear not attached to the phone so I can hear over the music. Maria hands Javier a card, loaded with funds and sends him over to the racing game we can see from the table.

“Tug, you have to come quick,” she yells into the phone, crying. “It’s Drew. He fell off the rope swing, and I think he broke his arm.”

“What? Where are you? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“
El Seguro
. Please hurry. He’s asking for you.”

I end the call and look across the table. I expect annoyance, but am greeted by anger. “Really, you’re going to bail on the fun afternoon you promised Javier to run to Tori’s side, yet again. This is getting ridiculous.”

“Drew hurt his arm. She thinks it’s broken.”