24. Carina
CARINA
We killed all but one.
I couldn’t be sure if I actually killed any of the men who ambushed us on the drive back home. My aim was pretty good, but in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t be certain if I’d gotten any of them.
It didn’t matter.
It wasn’t a competition.
All that counted was that they were not able to hurt us anymore.
I waited with Maksim, pressing his shirt to the gash on his side. He sat on the dirt, his back braced against the roof of the van. His legs were sprawled out in front of him as he caught his breath and winced.
“They’re coming,” Dean said as he returned to us.
The moment the gunfire faded, we waited behind the safety of the van that was on its side. Then after a little longer, Dean went out to check that they were all dead. That no one was running away or waiting to attack again.
He’d called for help already, and backup would be on its way. Of course, help was coming. Maksim was next in command after Adrik. He was a valuable member of the leadership. I was surprised he didn’t move with a team of guards all the time.
Like now.
I surveyed them all, taking inventory like I had many times before when a smuggling crew would return to the Cartel beaten and bloodied. Like I had when Enrique was found and brought to us.
I was fine. Unharmed if shaken up. I was doing my best to hide that fact and to stay strong for them.
Dean was up on his feet, uninjured. No one had ridden in his car with him.
The driver of the van had bravely tackled one of the others.
With the soldier who’d also climbed out of the van with him, the attacker was pinned to the ground.
Face down, gagged, and zip-tied, courtesy of Dean getting the binds out of his car.
We had one to take with us. He was the sole survivor of the attacking force that had ambushed us, and I wasn’t sure who he belonged to.
Unless Arturo was actively recruiting new members to bring into the Cartel, that man had no ties to the Garcia organization.
He didn’t seem like he was supposed to represent any Colombian faction, either.
Where he’d come from—and why he’d attacked—would be answers that the men back home could wring out of him.
“Are you all right?” Maksim asked me, pulling my attention back to him.
I nodded, frowning at him. “I’m better off than you are at the moment,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. He was hit, and while he was bleeding, he wasn’t at any serious risk of a lasting problem. He wasn’t dying on me.
Thank God.
I sighed as I reflected on how total and encompassing that relief was.
When we’d run out here to the scene together, more like partners than ever before, I hardened my heart against those terrible what-if scenarios.
What if he was hurt, what if I was, and what if we were separated and no longer able to continue with this bond that seemed to be sticking not because of any arrangement but because of this phenomenon called love?
He smirked, acknowledging my attempt to lighten the atmosphere. In the aftermath of this attack, things were somber and serious. But I wasn’t going to slip into a traumatic response or break down.
I’d faced dangers before.
I’d lost people to this sort of a threat before.
And I’d learned that surviving wasn’t a right. It was a privilege. A blessing—one not to take for granted.
We stayed together until Alexei and Viktor arrived with a fleet of vehicles. They immediately assessed the situation. Dean took over explaining what had happened while I helped Maksim toward another car. He scooted in, nodding at his brother that he’d meet up with him as this investigation began.
“We’ll take the runner to Lev’s safehouse,” Viktor said. “You want to question him yourself?”
He nodded as we slid into the car together. A first-aid kit was already on the backseat of the SUV, and I grabbed it to tend to Maksim on the ride back.
“Yes, I’ll question him. Keep him alive until I can come over tomorrow.” He winced as he settled back against the seat.
“You’ll keep him alive, right?” Viktor leaned his forearm on the doorframe, peering inside at me.
“I think we’ll manage,” I quipped.
It was no laughing matter. Wounds could get infected.
Injuries could be more serious than they appeared.
But I wasn’t mocking the situation at all.
I was relieved that these Volkovs could be this easygoing after a threat.
It was another sign of their strength, this ease of rolling with the punches and so readily accepting this violent life.
It was a strength that I thought I had too.
“Let me see,” I told Maksim as the car began to drive off.
The crew behind us would investigate and clean it all up. I was itching to know how much my brother was involved in that ambush. It no longer seemed wise to assume he wasn’t against the Volkovs. Until I had more information, though, I could focus all my energy on my husband.
“It’s not that bad,” he said as he shifted on the seat to let me wipe at his wounds. Blood still oozed from the cuts, but I wasn’t worried. A little more compression would likely stop it completely. First, I had to clean it the best I could here in the car.
“It’s bad that you were hurt at all,” I argued lightly.
He raised his brows, watching me dab at his wounds with a disinfectant wipe. “Oh?”
I gave him a sassy smirk. “Yes.” Before I did anything else, I grabbed the bunched up handful of his shirt that he’d lifted up to pull him toward me. Smashing my mouth to his reset my equilibrium. I was grounded, content to feel the heat and hunger of his lips answering to the plea of mine.
He kissed me without holding back, parting my lips and slipping his tongue between them to taste me. But when he lifted his hand to cup the back of my head and guide me to where he wanted me, he hissed.
“Not that bad, huh?” I teased with a slight scold as he lowered his arm.
He let out a deep breath and rested his head back against the cushion. “Not that bad,” he repeated.
I tended to his wounds the best that I could on the ride back to his house. He had gotten lucky with only minimal scrapes. The bullets had grazed him, but they weren’t life-threatening hits. All they would do was add to the collection of scars littering his hard body.
We got into the house and headed straight for our bedroom.
“I’ve left supplies out for you,” Jeremiah told me when he appeared.
“Thank you.”
“Please let me know if you need anything else.”
I nodded at him, leading Maksim up the stairs. He wasn’t winded or so off-balance that he had to lean on me. When he let his fingers graze against my breasts, though, I knew he was more than fine.
We entered the room together, but as soon as I closed the door, he pulled me against him and kissed me hard.
Too harshly.
I bumped against his chest and even that irritated the gash on his side.
He cursed, wincing.
“Let’s clean this up before you get any ideas.”
“I always have ideas where you’re concerned.”
I took his hand and smiled, warmed by his sexy stare on me as I led him to the bathroom.
“Any fantasies of me playing nurse?” I joked.
“You’re the star in all my fantasies,” he growled, trying once more to pull me into his arms.
I stepped toward him carefully, mindful of his wounds, and kissed him.
Drugged by the need on his lips and the hunger in the grip of his hands on me, I sighed against him and let him back me into the huge shower stall.
While he plundered my mouth, I blindly groped for the faucets to turn the shower on.
Water blasted out to rain on us. Soaking our clothes. Matting my hair down on my face. Rinsing the blood from his shirt and off my hands.
He pulled back, breathless, to gaze into my eyes. Cupping my face gently, he brushed my hair back.
“I thought I was supposed to be your nurse.”
“I’m starting to think you’re my everything,” he whispered as he pierced me with such an intense and honest stare that it was like a punch to the heart. He stole my breath, rendering me helpless to love him.
I kissed him tenderly as I began to pull his clothes off. It wasn’t a rush, it wasn’t a frantic attempt to get naked just to fuck.
This was different.
Intimate and slow.
Careful and lazy.
I carefully stripped him while kissing him, and he began to pry at my clothes too. When it was too obvious that his arm was sore from the cut on it, I backed up only enough to make him growl with impatience. If this man could ever be accused of pouting, this was it.
“Carina…” He pulled me back toward him, and I willingly fell against him.
He held me close, returning me to that security I knew that I would only ever find with him.
Feeling his strong arms locked around me was my safe haven.
But registering the hard push of his dick against my stomach reminded me that we didn’t have to be overly careful after his hits.
Right now, as I framed his face and stared at him with the water pelting down and the steam curling around us, I wanted to celebrate that we were alive. That no matter what obstacles we faced, we were together.
I reached over to turn the water off, but he wasn’t having it.
“No. I can’t—” He pushed me toward the wall. “I can’t wait. Carina. I need you now.”
The tiles chilled my back slightly, but as he hoisted me up higher and I parted my legs, I reveled in this intense connection that linked us closer together than ever before.
“You’re bleeding,” I protested lightly.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t even reply. Laying his mouth against mine as he lifted me into his arms, he demonstrated that even pain, even a bleeding wound, wouldn’t make him slow down or reconsider.
I clung to him, making sure that as I cinched my legs around his hips that I wasn’t rubbing against the gash on his side. Blood trickled down, mixing with the water, but I wasn’t so squeamish that I’d freak out at his blood on my thigh.
He lined up his dick to my pussy, and with how hot for him that I was, with how soaked I was from kissing him and feeling his slick, naked body flush with mine, he pushed the wide domed head inside easily.
The stretch had me gasping. The wide fit would always catch my attention. But as he tilted his head to the side and sucked on my tongue, I moaned in delight and widened my legs. It pushed my hips toward his, and he thrust up in one brutal, greedy shove.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered against his lips.
“It only…” He grunted as he set up a quick rhythm of withdrawing and slamming back into me. “It only gets better. Every fucking time.”
I nodded, delirious with the need to come already. Sinking down on his arms but careful not to aggravate his wounds, I tried to ride him too. Using the leverage of my back against the wall, I made love with my wounded, strong husband until we both came together.
Too soon, waves of pleasure shot through me. I trembled and panted, overcome by the beauty of taking this hard-hearted killer after I feared losing him.
And that was all it took for him to lose it. He groaned, gripping my ass tightly as his dick jerked and twitched deep inside me. I milked him dry, squeezing him as I came. His knees shook. His arms stayed around me, but when he rested his brow on my shoulder, I knew that we’d delayed long enough.
“Okay. Now I think I need to seriously play nurse and wrap up those cuts.”
He chuckled lightly before pressing a kiss to my neck and letting me down to stand. “If you say so.”