I pulled her back into my thrusts with a grunt of satisfaction. It was still a tight fit, still felt like she was custom made to take my cock. When I was inside of her, there was nothing else in the world that mattered. There was no space for anything other than me and her and the way we made each other feel.
Our skin slapped together creating an erotic soundtrack that mingled with our heavy breathing and her soft whimpers. I swore when I felt her fingers brush across my erection where it was spreading her open. Her fingers were slippery and soft against my heated skin. I felt her reaction to the contact when her inner walls shimmied around the heavy, thick skin working its way in and out of her. I bottomed out as she mumbled my name. She stopped touching herself so that she could brace her weight on her hands and push back against me. My girl was never one who laid there and got fucked. She was always an active participant. She always gave just as good as she got.
She was panting in time to my grunts as I rutted into her like an animal. There was no finesse to it, no plan or thought. I was operating on nothing more than feeling and sensation. It was the only time my mind went quiet and let my body and my heart take charge. It was the only time I felt normal.
I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her up so that her back was plastered to my front. I palmed her breast, catching her puckered nipple in my fingers. I sank my teeth into her earlobe and brushed my nose along the gentle curve of her jaw. She lifted an arm behind her head and ran it over my hair. Her eyes were closed but her face was etched in twin lines of desire and need. She was perfect.
I replaced her fingers with mine between her legs and knew when her eyes popped open and her mouth went slack that she was close. Her fingers latched in my hair and she whispered my name as she was dragged into a second orgasm. Watching her response, knowing I was the one who put that pleasure on her face and made her body feel that good, sent me spiraling through my own. I nipped at the side of her throat and groaned long and loud into her sweaty skin. Now I was the one the neighbors could probably hear, and I hoped they enjoyed the show because I didn’t ever plan on being quiet about how she made me feel.
I kissed her on the back of the head and let her limp body fall in front of mine on the bed. She looked annihilated and it made me want to pound my chest with pride, and sure enough my diamonds had left marks on her inner thighs. Marks that were now wet and glistening with the evidence of how thoroughly we’d destroyed one another. If anyone or anything thought they were ever going to take any of this away from me, they were going to find out how dangerous a brilliant man could be when he was inspired.
I hitched my jeans back up over my ass and meandered to the bathroom so I could clean up and get her a washcloth to do the same. She hadn’t moved when I made it back to the bed, so I dragged the warm fabric over her skin, then got completely naked and pulled her on top of me.
It was silent in the dark as she nuzzled into the ink on my chest. That was the only mechanical heart I had left. My actual heart was all wrapped up in the woman I held in my arms. It beat only for her, functioned only when she was the one pulling the strings.
“You know I’ll chase you too, Snowden. If anyone tries to take you, if you vanish on me, I’m coming after you. I meant what I said out there . . . you’re mine.” She kissed the skin her cheek was resting on and I threaded my fingers through her hair.
“I am yours, Noe. Everyone else wants bits and pieces of me. You’re the only one who wants it all. My heart, my mind, my body . . . my future. They’re all yours. Everything I am belongs to you.” She was the only one who knew how to handle all that I was and all that I would be.
She sighed into the night and snuggled closer. “You’ve got me too, Stark. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to give myself to and the only one I’ve ever wanted to hold onto. No one is taking that away.”
It was a good thing our love was forged in the fire of the Point, because if it could survive the place we called home, then it could survive anywhere.
The good guys were getting a leg up, but so were the bad guys who did good when it benefited them. However, they weren’t alone. Standing next to them were even better women who had just as much at stake in saving this city. In a place that had been deemed hopeless and lost, love found its way into the darkest corners and scariest parts of the city.
There was light now.
There was a chance at something better.
There was hope and tenuous optimism.
And yes . . . there was love. Battered, dented, and a little rough around the edges, it had seen better days, but it was there.
Exactly like my heart.
A couple months later . . .
The last time we’d all been gathered in the hospital, it had been because Bax was clinging to life after getting run off the road by a garbage truck. His muscle car had been crushed in the accident and so had his leg and several of his vital organs.
This occasion was much happier, even if Nassir was noticeably absent. He and Titus might have an uneasy truce in the works, but there was no way the cop was going to let the devil anywhere near his newborn baby. Keelyn had dropped off a gorgeous bouquet, an expensive bottle of scotch, and a box of cigars a couple of hours ago. She was close with Reeve, the cop’s girlfriend and new mother. She didn’t make apologies or excuses for her husband, but she did tell Titus her husband sent his best. The big man grunted in response but he gave her hand a squeeze as she slipped out of the waiting room.
Reeve had given birth to a healthy baby boy they named Titan. It was the name of a warrior. A big name he was going to have to live up to. If you asked his uncle, the little guy was already destined for greatness. Reeve told everyone Bax was excited for the baby, but no one really believed her until it proved nearly impossible to get the small bundle out of the big bruiser’s hands. Little Titan was already performing miracles. Bax didn’t glare at his older brother or give Reeve a hard time at all while he was visiting. He was so smitten with his new nephew, he forgot old hurts and animosity. All of us were looking at fresh starts and new beginnings . . . well, all of us except for the two men who were faced off in the waiting room like opponents in the Colosseum.
No one else seemed to pick up on the tension radiating off of Race and Booker, but since I was the newest member of this motley group of misfits, I couldn’t miss it. Plus, Booker spent a lot of time around my genius since they both dangled at the end of Nassir’s string. The two of them were tight, even closer than he and Race had been back in the day. I think Stark felt indebted to Booker since he had a hand in saving my life and getting me away from Goddard, and I had to admit, I was pretty fond of the broody ex-con as well. He might not be as smart as Stark, but he seemed to know a whole hell of a lot about how the world worked. He had practical knowledge and it often kicked book smarts squarely in the nuts.
Race was watching Booker closely, his chiseled jaw locked and his golden eyebrows lowered over his amazing green eyes. He didn’t look like a criminal. He looked like a model. He also looked seriously pissed off, but his anger didn’t hold a candle to the scalding fury that blazed from the corner where Booker was propped up. Every line of his massive bulk was locked tight, making him look ready to fight. His expression was thunderous as he glared at his boss’ business partner, and the scar on his face stood out white against his ruddy skin as his teeth noticeably ground together.
I put my hand on Stark’s bicep to ask what that was all about, about to interrupt him in the middle of his congratulations to the cop. Titus was getting ready to forcibly drag his little brother away from his baby, which everyone thought was hilarious. Race’s fiancée and Bax’s girlfriend were standing off to the side gushing over babies and how amazing Reeve would be as a new mom. The pretty blonde, the one who was more put together and stylish than I would ever be, reached out and touched her equally polished man. Her eyes were wide and her voice was sad when she told him, “I wish I could have convinced Karsen to come home for this. She was so sad when she misse
d the baby shower. I feel like the more time she spends away at school, the less likely she is to come home for a visit.”
I knew Karsen was her younger sister. I didn’t know she’d been invited to the recent baby shower Keelyn had thrown.
Race looked at his woman with a heavy dose of sympathy and understanding. He pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her flawless hair. “She’ll figure it out, Brysen. She’s learning how big the world really is. She has options now.”
A sound that was somewhere between a roar and a growl erupted from where Booker was lurking. Everyone in the waiting room, including those who weren’t there to fawn over the Point’s newest little King, started and turned to look at the infuriated man. He pushed off the wall and stalked toward the blond couple like he was going to run right over them. The woman cocked her head to the side in confusion but Race stiffened his spine and narrowed his eyes even farther.
“Options? Is that what you call what she has now, Hartman? She gets to make up her own mind about where she wants to be and who she wants to be with? Has something changed?” The words were short and clipped, anger rolling off the man in waves that swept through the entire room. “Or are you still manipulating things so she does what you want, when you want, without her even knowing it?” He looked at Brysen with a sneer. “Your sister won’t be back. Ask the asshole holding onto you why that is. Ask him about the options he left Karsen with.” He shook his head as he pushed past them and shook off Bax’s girlfriend’s reaching hand. “Everyone thinks Gates is the dangerous one, the dirty one. If anyone was paying attention, they would see you play twice as rough as the devil, Hartman.”
He stormed out of the room, leaving tense silence and unasked questions lingering in the air behind him.
Titus cleared his throat and mumbled he needed to get back to his family. Dovie looked at the couple with wide eyes as Stark pulled me into his side and dropped a quick kiss on my head. Anyone else would be wrapped up in the drama, curious about the outcome, worried about their friend. Not my guy. My quirky, disconnected genius mumbled something about the statistical chances of Titan ending up with Titus’s unusual white spot in his hair and calculating the odds that any child we had together would get his hyper-intelligence. I was distracted by the idea of being pregnant, of carrying his baby, of having a family of my own, and I didn’t process that he also mentioned twins ran in his family.
I was off in my own little daydream when Brysen’s shrill voice brought me back to reality.
“What did you do, Race? What have you done?” She’d pulled out of his embrace and now she was the one squared off against him like she was ready to do battle.
Dovie put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and offered softly, “Not the time or the place honey. Take this home.”
The icy blonde nodded but shook off her man’s hands when he reached for her. He whispered something in her ear that didn’t soften her expression one bit. They swept out of the room in a cloud of tension that had Dovie offering up a shrug and an apology. “It’s always something, I guess.” She excused herself to find her man and the rest of her family while Stark started to lead me in the direction the others had gone.
“Where are we going?” I put a hand on the cut, defined plane of his stomach. We’d come to see the baby and hadn’t gotten our turn yet.
He pushed the button for the elevator and looked down at me with a lifted eyebrow. His eyes were concerned behind his glasses. They were a new pair, tortoise shell instead of black but still designer and still hot as hell on him. His old pair had had an unfortunate accident while I was sitting on his face. Sometimes the man was too impatient, not that I could complain.
“I need to check on Booker. Something’s been brewing and I knew it was going to boil over eventually. He usually keeps himself in check. That outburst was not good.” He pulled me into the elevator and I slid my hand into his much bigger one as the car started to descend.
“You’re worried about your friend.” I squeezed his fingers. “Your heart is working just fine, Snowden Stark.” I was proud of him and proud of me for being the one who fixed him.
“Thanks to you.” He said it with all seriousness.
“Do you think Booker will be okay?” I’d never seen him so mad or so terrifying. That was the side of him that Nassir used to keep people in line. That was the side of him that had landed the big man behind bars.
Stark dipped his chin in a slight nod. “He’s a man who is tired of waiting. Even the most patient men have their limits.”
“What’s he waiting for?” I was confused and intrigued by all of it.
“The same thing we’re all waiting for. His shot at something better.”
He pulled me out of the elevator and guided me to the parking lot where the sun was shining bright.
That’s right . . . there was light.
The sun found its way through the clouds, fought its way through the fog and murky pollution. There was always a chance for something new to grow, for change and opportunity, as long as you never stopped trying to break through. All it took was the smallest hole, the littlest weakness for warmth and brightness to find their way inside.
Booker and Karsen’s story, RESPECT, coming in Summer of 2018
When I was in college I had a roommate who had the same backstory story as Noe. She was given to an all-girls’ orphanage in Seoul when she was four because her parents were poor and they already had a little girl. She was adopted by a well-off family from Denver and she really was accelerated and super smart. That’s where the similarities end. Her family was great, loving, welcoming, and so proud of her. She had two older brothers who treated her like a princess and doted on her. I did think it was super weird that whenever we would all go out, people assumed she was on a date with one of her brothers since they obviously looked different. Once, I was at dinner with her and her father, and a waitress asked if she was his wife . . . so freaking creepy. (Which is clearly where the inspiration for all of Noe’s tragic backstory came from.)
I always knew I wanted to base a character on this girl from my past. She was gorgeous and dynamic. She was a handful and a troublemaker . . . she was a real-life romance heroine. Men loved her. Women envied her. I spent my time loving and hating every single minute we lived together. I had some of the best times of my life with her, but she was also the catalyst for my entire world falling into chaos. At the end of the day, I couldn’t keep up with her . . . but I still think about her and wonder where she ended up all these years later.
People ask me all the time if any of my characters are based on anyone in my own life and this is the one and only time I can say yes. Noe is absolutely based on someone who had a huge impact on my young adult life. It was so much fun pitting her against a man who was just as brilliant and just as difficult as she was. I’d like to think the real-life woman behind the character ended up with her perfect match as well. (Last I heard, she was in New York married to an engineer who moonlights as a semi-famous punk rock singer, and she has a daughter who was a child model . . . lol.)
We live in a world where one in six women is sexually assaulted or violated in some way. We also live in a world where one in five girls and one in twenty boys are victims of childhood sexual abuse—7.5 million reports related to child sexual exploitation have been made to The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children’s CyberTipline since its inception. (missingkids.org)
Self-report studies show that twenty percent of adult females and five to ten percent of adult males recall a childhood sexual assault or sexual abuse incident.
None of that is fun to think about, but that is the harsh reality too many victims must face. The Point isn’t real, but the atrocities that happen there are real . . . all over the world. When victims speak, it is important that we listen. Use your voice to help them be heard.
I’m no expert.
I’m no crusader or champion.
But I am here. I care, and I want anyone who needs to kn
ow that they have an advocate and supporter in me.
Here are some places that offer help if you or someone you know needs to reach out:
National Child Abuse Hotline: 1–800–422–4453
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1–800–799–7233
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1–800–656-HOPE (4673)
If you are looking for a place to start to help yourself or someone else, go here: www.thehotline.org
If you have purchased, read, reviewed, promoted, pimped, blogged about, sold, talked about, preached about, or whined about any of my books . . . thank you.
If you are part of my very special reader group The Crowd . . . thank you.
If you have helped me make this dream of mine a reality . . . thank you.
If you have helped make my words better and helped me share them with the world . . . thank you.
If you have held my hand and helped me through the tough times when it feels like everyone’s against me . . . thank you.
If you help make the work part of writing the best job ever . . . thank you.
If you tolerate me being a horrible human and awful adult when I’m working . . . thank you.
I gotta give a major shout out to my girl gang for this one. Sometimes I have a character I think is just EVERYTHING. Hot, smart, difficult, interesting, and complex. But then I get caught up in wondering if I’m the ONLY one who thinks that way. I’m not wired like everyone else. I don’t like the same ol’ same ol’. I like to take risks and write different kinds of men and I wasn’t so sure Stark fit in in the Point and that I was expressing just how special he really was. My girls rode to the rescue. As always, I asked Mel, Rebecca Yarros, Denise Tung, and Heather Self all to give Stark a peek when he was about halfway done. It’s hard to ask someone to read a book that isn’t finished, but my girls showed up and gave me all the right words. They loved him and loved his story, and I honestly believe that has nothing to do with the fact they love me. The feedback was necessary and I needed them to assure me I hadn’t gone too far off the deep end. I’m cool with dipping a toe in the water but I’m not looking to drown anytime soon. So, thanks ladies for being there when I needed you most. I’m a badass . . . but even badasses need a confidence boost every now and then.