23. Maeve
Chapter 23
Maeve
J aime’s eyes darken as my breasts spill free. He takes them in his hands, firmer this time, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak of one nipple as he licks the other. Warm, liquid pleasure ripples through my nerve endings and I stifle a moan, my insides turning to lava as I press myself further into his lips. The gentle tugging of his teeth combined with the soft suction of his mouth feels so good it almost hurts.
My hands fist in his hair, urging him closer as he tastes and teases me. I’ve wanted this for so long.
He lifts his face after a moment, his lips leaving my nipples wet and swollen. “You okay?”
Nodding, I shrug out of the bra and let it fall to the bed before I reach for Jaime’s beautiful face. I don’t know what the next week or month holds, but right now, in this sliver of time and space, he’s mine. I’m his.
“You’re shaking,” he says, brushing a kiss over my jaw.
“Because I want you,” I whisper. And because I haven’t had a first time in a long time, especially with someone who makes me feel like this. I like Jaime, a lot. I’m trying not to think too much about it because I’ll be gone by this time next week. And while nothing could stop me from leaving, the thought of not seeing this man when he’s become the most constant thing in my life hurts more than I’m willing to admit.
I pull him into another, deeper kiss, pressing my breasts against him while I explore the contours of his back, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his soft skin. When I start to circle my hips, seeking more friction, he surges up and flips me onto my back. Kneeling between my legs, he unbuttons my jeans and tugs them down until I lift my hips to help him get them off.
Jaime stands beside the bed, staring at me as he takes off his jeans. No one is perfect, but he’s pretty damn close. His shoulders are broad and his chest defined, the muscles beneath his golden-brown skin shifting as he moves. I trace the contours of his torso down to the sculpted ridges of his abs, the lines of his obliques etched deep, and lower still, to his dick, straining against the fabric. Oh, shit . It’s, well. Huge.
My heart flip-flops crazily in my chest. Palming himself roughly, Jaime climbs back onto the bed and onto me, his kissesdeep and wanting. I wrap myself around him until we’re pressed so close I can feel every part of him, from his heartbeat to his dick throbbing between my thighs. I push my hips up, gasping softly as he grinds against me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I whisper, kissing him. “Please.”
He pulls my panties down and parts my thighs, sliding his fingers into my wetness. His mouth returns to my neck, hot and demanding and wet as he plays languidly with my pussy. “Oh,” I moan, my back bowing when his finger slips inside, and then another, filling me as he takes my mouth with a drugging, possessive kiss that bruises my lips.
“You’re beautiful,” he says breathlessly, nipping me like he can’t help it. “So fucking beautiful.”
“I don’t feel very beautiful.”
“You are.” He brushes my clit with his thumb. “I’ve always thought that. I’ve thought about you so many times, just like this.”
“I’ve thought about you, too,” I manage to gasp and then I’m coming, my hips jerking off the bed as I fuck his fingers. His mouth is back on my nipple, sucking it so hard it hurts. “Jaime!”
I want him inside me, right now. I want him to fuck me so hard that I forget everything but the two of us. Overcome with the heavy ache of desire, I reach into Jaime’s boxers and squeeze his dick. He thrusts into my hand, his dark eyes burning into mine as he hovers over me. I knew he was packing, but to actually feel it is another story.
Kneeling between my legs, he rolls on a condom and pulls me closer. He wraps my thighs around his hips and, leaning forward, slowly begins to enter me. Gasping, I arch my back, overwhelmed by the feel of him, the size of him. His grip tightens on my hips and he lifts me a little, pausing to mouth my nipple. “Can you take it?” I feel him pulse inside me, the burn of him stretching me sweetened by the desperate need I have to be filled by him.
I nod, biting my lip as I try to relax. I mean, come on . This isn’t my first rodeo.
He rocks in and out, shallow thrusts that feel so good even though I know he’s not even halfway inside. “You’re so small,” he groans, the cords in his neck straining as he tries to hold back.
“I’m not.” I laugh, and the movement pushes him out altogether. I’ve been called a lot of things, but small isn’t one of them.
Putting me on my back, he spreads my pussy with his thumbs and runs his tongue up my slit. His stubble rubs roughly against my inner thighs as he eats me out with sloppy abandon, holding me open like I’m a piece of fruit to be devoured. I sink my fingers into his soft, dark hair, pleasure rocketing through my body when his long, thick fingers start stretching me again. He keeps going when I come, even when I push his head and beg him to stop because it’s too sensitive. He licks me until I’m writhing beneath his tongue again, another orgasm rolling through me with exquisite intensity.
I’m so wet, so raw and open, that when he holds my knees open this time and nudges his dick inside, he fills me with one thrust. “Fuck,” he whispers, peppering my neck with kisses as he starts riding me hard and slow. “You feel so good.”
“You too,” I manage, clinging to him as he rocks into me. I had no idea. No idea. This is so different than what I’ve been fantasizing about, so much better than what I imagined when it was just me and my desperate fingers. “So good.”
I fall open wider, lifting my knees, and he sinks deeper before withdrawing and doing it again, and again, and again. Our eyes meet for a second and he shakes his head, like he needs to say something, but I just dig my heels into him and clutch his back and tighten around him until he can barely move.
A smile tugs at his mouth when he feels it. Biting his lip, he glances down to our point of connection and that’s it. He picks up the pace and then comes with a husky moan, his head thrown back as he loses himself inside me.
After a minute, he rolls off and lies sprawled, panting, his eyes closed as he recovers. Propping myself up on my side, I gaze at his plush lips, his messy hair, his long, dark eyelashes. The lines of his body, how very hard and toned he is to my soft and curved. I know what it’s like to have this man inside of me. How am I supposed to leave him now?
His beautiful brown eyes open. He runs his big, warm hand over my naked hip, squeezing it. “You okay?”
I nod, stretching up to kiss him. I just want to be close. I don’t know how the next few days are going to go, but I push all that out of my head.
I don’t want anything to sully this dream.
My life is all about lines being crossed. The drugs, the violence, the things I knew about but chose to turn away from. Callum crossed a line the night he hit me. I crossed one when I kissed Jaime and he crossed one when he kissed me in the woods. We crossed a big one today.
Actually, it was more like crossing a chasm and blowing up the bridge. There is nothing left back there, with Callum. We can never return to how things used to be, no matter how much he’s deluded himself otherwise.
Even so, a tiny sprout of guilt pushes through to the surface as I lie here, my head on Jaime’s chest while he strokes my hair. Sighing inwardly, I uproot that sprout and trash it. What happened between Jaime and me today, what’s been happening for weeks, is fine because as far as I’m concerned, I’m single. If my relationship with Callum had been a normal one, I’d be long gone already, back in Boston to heal and move on. But it isn’t normal. Callum got into my head with the guilt trips and the gaslighting and then later with the lies and threats. With fear. He made me question myself and everything I knew about myself, about us, which is probably why I feel guilty at all. It’s definitely why I’m still in the Bay.
Callum really loved that I was a down-to-ride girl, and I loved it too. It was almost a part of my identity. I stayed by his side, loving him and defending him even when that meant betraying my own heart and who I wanted to be.
But I’ve woken up. I’m still down to ride—for myself.
And maybe for a guy like Jaime.
Going home, everything feels different. There’s a peace in my heart I haven’t felt in a long time, like everything is going to be okay. I keep thinking about how in less than a week I’ll be back in Boston, protected and loved by my family. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid, though, because I am. My life has become so unpredictable. Anything could happen between now and then.
But at least my fear is tempered with hope. I don’t know exactly how Jaime will help me get out. I just trust that he will.
I know Callum’s done with his meeting because we saw him leave Dario’s place in San Anselmo, but he’s not home by the time we get back. Still, Jaime leaves me alone while he returns to the guest house. I know it’s imperative that we maintain appearances, but I hate it. It feels counterintuitive, like we should be closer than ever after a day like today.
After a long shower, I change into my pajamas and walk aimlessly around, listening to the wind howl up the hillside. Yelena was here earlier, evident by the stocked pantry, immaculate kitchen, and clean floors. It smells like she even started something in the crockpot. She does that sometimes. I think she feels sorry for me, but like anyone who works for the De Leons, she’s bound by silence. She keeps her mouth shut, does her job, and gets paid.
My stomach growls and I pad over to the crockpot, my mouth watering at the sight of what appears to be chicken and dumplings.
The front door opens. I replace the lid as Callum walks into the kitchen, seemingly troubled. “Hey,” he says, faltering when he sees me.
“Hey.” I frown at his subdued mood. “The meeting go okay?”
“Kind of.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “One thing about my uncle, he gets so fucking suspicious sometimes, you know? He was going on about things he’s heard, and how he wants to make sure I’m staying in line and not going off on my own … like I’m a little kid.”
I chew my lip, not wanting to point out that Callum can be suspicious, too. And he does go off on his own. And sometimes he does act like a little kid. I’d wondered when Dario would figure out that Callum’s been taking liberties.
Pulling a beer from the fridge, he roots around the drawer for an opener. “How was your massage? They do a good job?”
It’s impossible to keep my smirk at bay. “They did. They … went really deep.”
“Good.” There’s a little hiss of released pressure as he opens his beer. “You deserved it."
I swallow the urge to say something rude. I deserve a hell of a lot more than a stupid massage, and we both know it. My silence probably communicates that because he clears his throat.
“Look,” he begins, taking a long swig of beer before setting it down on the counter with a clink. “I know things have been tense lately. Between us and with everything else.”
His words are familiar, the same placating rhythm he’s used a hundred times before. I nod, letting him say what he feels he needs to. It doesn’t matter anymore, not to me.
“Maybe it’s time we took a break from all this.” He gestures vaguely around him, but I sense he means more than just the house or the current circumstances. “You’ve been putting up with a lot of shit and I want to make it up to you. We can take a trip, just you and me. Get away for a minute. No one else.”
At one point, taking a vacation with just Callum would’ve sounded wonderful. Now it puts a stone in my stomach. He might be having an introspective moment now, humbled by the thought of losing me or—and this is more likely—his meeting with Dario, but it won’t last. It never does. Callum’s a ticking time bomb and until he gets help for his addictions and anger issues, he’ll be dangerous.
I don’t say any of that, though. I just give him a small smile, hugging him when he wraps his arms around me. He still smells the same, feels the same.
But nothing is the same.
“New Year’s Eve, maybe,” he adds .
“Sure,” I say. “Sounds nice.”
After dance class, Jaime and I drive out to the gun range. It’s my fifth time, and while I’m no sharpshooting badass, I’m more confident and capable than I was before. In fact, I’m able to hit my target a lot of the time.
“If you’re ever in a bad situation,” Jaime says afterward, as we walk back to the car. “You’ll be able to do some damage.”
I detest fighting and violence. I understand that they are an integral part of this life, but I hate them. Knowing that I might one day have cause to inflict pain on someone else makes me ill.
But not as ill as being someone’s else’s victim.
My phone buzzes as I get into the car. I reach for it, my stomach dropping when I see Callum’s name.
Where are you?
I’ve been waiting for this, ever since Jaime told me he’d disabled the GPS Callum’s been using to keep tabs on me. Callum doesn’t know that I know, obviously, but he must be frustrated to actually text me and ask.
“He’s asking where I am,” I tell Jaime, pushing down the slight panic brewing in my stomach.
Jaime quickly pulls up his own tracking app. “He’s at the house. Tell him you had me take you to the grocery store after ballet.”
I give him a dubious look. “For two hours?”
“Tell him you needed … special ingredients for dinner.” He throws the car into drive and speeds out of the lot. “Tell him you’re making tamales.”
“I don’t know how to make tamales!”
He chuckles dryly. “Well, you’d better figure it out.”
By the time we pull into Mi Tierra a couple blocks away, I’ve found a tamale recipe online and responded to Callum.
What kind of recipe?
tamales
nice
I love tamales
I sag in relief. Crisis averted.
We grab everything we need, from the corn husks to a twenty-four pack of Mexican beer I’ve never heard of but Jaime assures me is the real deal, and then speed back to the Berkeley Hills.
“This was actually really smart,” I muse, gazing out the window. “He’ll think I wanted to make him something nice to make up.”
“That was the idea.”
“So, I never told you this, but he proposed to me on Thanksgiving,” I say quietly, pulling the ring out of my pocket and sliding it back on. I only wear it around Callum because he’s the only one who thinks it’s real. “In front of his whole family.”
Jaime huffs softly, glancing at the ring. “What did you say?”
“I said yes! I had no choice!” All of a sudden, the significance of it hits me really hard, and I close my eyes, swallowing back a sob. I might no longer be in love with Callum, but once upon a time I really wanted this. It makes me sick that the only reason he proposed was to lock me down.
“It’s just an engagement ring. It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to.” He reaches over to squeeze my hand. “It’s a promise to him, but to you, it’s just a prop. Okay?”
I wipe my eyes, watching the ring twinkle in the sunlight. “Okay.”
“We all play parts, Maeve,” he continues. “Just keep playing your part. You’ll be out of here soon.”