Read Elicit Page 9


  “Are you complimenting my skin?” She arched as I drew slow circles down her stomach and then tugged her other strap down.

  “Yes, Mo. That’s what I’m doing. I’m complimenting your skin temperature because I’m a player like that, and that’s my game.”

  “Game,” she panted as my fingers slid behind her back and unclasped her bra, “needs work.”

  “Game,” I mock repeated, “hasn’t even started.” With a tug I threw her bra onto the floor and stared my fill. In all my years of living, I would never get used to seeing her naked body in all its glory. Damn, she was topless and it was like staring at the sun—utter perfection that I knew she was allowing me to mar with my hands, taint with my bloodlines, I narrowed my gaze on her stomach.

  “You’re still so skinny.” My thumb caressed her belly button. I hoped the baby inside her, even though it wasn’t mine, was okay. I’d asked Stephen and he said when she was feeling better we could run tests, but for the most part if she miscarried, there would be more blood. Her injury had been bloody and if we hadn’t stopped the bleeding it could have been more serious—but as it was, she would just be really sore for a while.

  “Tex.” Mo hissed out a breath. “Are we doing this or are we talking?”

  “Oh.” I reared back, allowing the thoughts to dissipate. “I’m sorry, are you tired of talking? Need a little more caressing?” I tugged her shorts down and cupped her ass. “A bit more teasing? Nipping? Tugging? Pulling?” I lowered my head to her hipbone, licking around in lazy circles as she arched towards me.

  “Damn it, Tex!”

  “Aw, baby you know I love it when you scream my name.” I chuckled, fanned my breath across her stomach then replaced it with my tongue. Tasting Monroe Abandonato was my number one favorite thing to do in the entire world. Her taste was unique, totally her, and I coveted it more than a sane person should. Then again, I never claimed to be anything but insane so there you have it.

  Mo’s fingers moved to my shirt, she tried to tug, but she was too weak from blood loss, which again reminded me that I probably shouldn’t be trying to seduce her, but my body had other plans. And damn if I didn’t want to mark her, brand her, fill her to the hilt and just bask in the fullness of what it was like to be inside her.

  “Tex…” Mo dropped her hands from my shirt with a sigh of frustration. “I’m going to need a little help here.”

  “Say please.” I straddled her and slowly lifted my shirt up to my head but didn’t pull it completely off yet. “I’m waiting…”

  “You’re an ass, you know that right?” She wiggled beneath me.

  “Keep doing that, I’ve got all the time in the world. Really, you’re not slowly killing me or anything by rubbing against me.”

  “Take off your shirt!” she said through clenched teeth. “Please.”

  “Aw, there it is… who taught you manners? Nixon?” I chuckled and could almost imagine that there wasn’t a chasm of anger and hurt between us… I imagined a world where I was the father of our child in earnest, where I was the hero, rather than the monster.

  When my shirt fell to the floor, Mo’s breath hitched. Her dainty hands danced across my rigid stomach, tightening my muscles to painful levels wherever she touched, her fingers slowly, agonizingly, moving up and down.

  “This is new,” she whispered, her hands hovering over one of my many scars.

  “Yeah.” I licked my lips. “It’s a flesh wound.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right, I know all about those.”

  “Sorry to break it to you but yours is more than a flesh wound there, little tyke. I thought you were dying, and if you want this to continue you’ll stop reminding me why I shouldn’t be getting you naked.”

  “Nixon may shoot you.”

  “Great.” I leaned down and kissed her hot mouth. “Then he can get my other shoulder; it was feeling left out anyway.”

  Monroe laughed against my lips, I couldn’t help but follow suit, her hands reached for the zipper of my jeans—and all laughing went straight out the window.

  It would take an act of God for the girl to be able to actually strip me of all my clothing, so I stood, yanked off my jeans and waited for her to blush.

  She always blushed.

  It’s part of the reason I loved her so much.

  She pretended to be a bad ass, but that was to protect herself… she pretended that sex wasn’t a big deal. But I knew it was. To Mo it always was… maybe that’s why it stung so much that she would give her body to anyone but me.

  I’d taken the girl’s virginity.

  I’d been the forever guy.

  Until I wasn’t anything anymore.

  “Tex—” Mo held up her hand. I grasped it and lay down next to her.

  “We shouldn’t do this, Mo.” My body was screaming speak for yourself!

  “I know.” Mo nodded, her lips trembling as a tear fell down her cheek. “But you’ve always kissed me when I’m down, and Tex, I’m really—” Her chest heaved with emotion. “Really down right now.”

  “Alright.” I sighed. “An hour… for an hour… only we exist. But when that hour’s up… to protect you, to protect me, Mo… I’m going to go back to focusing on anger, on hate, because if I don’t, I’m pretty sure one or both of our hearts will shatter.”

  She nodded.

  And that’s all it took.

  I was stupid enough to promise her an hour.

  And she was stupid enough to take it.

  With tenderness I’d never been able to fully extend towards Mo in the bedroom, I slowly kissed her mouth, savoring her flavor, sucking her lips. If I got an hour, it was going to be a damn good hour.

  Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me tighter against her. We kissed until my lips hurt, until hers were swollen, and when my mouth was still buzzing with pleasure, I kissed her harder, I kissed away the pain, the memories, the past… and in return gave her everything I was capable of giving.

  When our bodies joined it was with such a jolt, that I lost my breath. It had been too damn long. I moved within her, slowly at first, giving her body time to adjust to me, shocked that it needed to in the first place.

  And kissed her mouth.

  “So good,” Mo whispered against my lips. “Harder.”

  “You’re—” I panted. “—injured.”

  “So?” She hooked her good leg around me. “You were saying?”

  “Damn it.”

  She grinned.

  “Think you’re funny?” I pumped harder, faster, digging my hands underneath her ass to angle her towards me so that I was hitting one of mine and her favorite places.

  Her nails dug into my back.

  “Tex!” She found her release, I soon followed, but I kept my eyes open, watching her, loving that look of pure bliss on her face.

  I was still inside her when the knock came at the door.

  Mo’s eyes widened in horror.

  “Yeah?” I answered lazily.

  “Hey, it’s Nixon.”

  Well shit.

  “Is Mo feeling okay? I heard yelling”

  “Uh…” I bit my lip to keep from laughing while Mo turned twenty shades of scarlet beneath me. “Yeah she was um, dreaming.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Oh okay, can I come in and—”

  “No!” I yelled. “I uh, I’ll come out, I need to talk to you about something and she’s super exhausted.” Especially after the hour we’d shared.

  “Fine.” Nixon’s footsteps echoed down the hall.

  With a, curse I slumped against Mo, then very slowly removed myself from her body and put on my clothes again.

  Wordless, I helped her put on her bra, her shirt, her shorts, every article of clothing looked in place. I even pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tied it.

  “Tex.” Mo’s eyes didn’t meet mine.

  “Yeah?”

  “What if an hour wasn’t enough?”

  How was it possible for someone’s heart to be
so elated and so broken at the same time? “Then you probably should have thought of that before you jumped into someone else’s bed… Today I gave you an hour. A year ago I would have given you an eternity.” With that, I stomped out of the room cursing myself as I heard her soft sobs escape her mouth.

  It was better this way.

  It had to be.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Everyone has words they hate. The word I hate? Choice. It seemed my whole life was framed around such an innocent word. Innocent. How ironic.

  Sergio

  MO AND TEX had been in the back bedroom for hours. My hands were still stained from all the blood. I’d stopped trying to wash it off hours ago; it made a good reminder anyway. Blood on the hands.

  Especially when my cell phone rang.

  “Is it true?”

  I sighed into the receiver and walked out to the back yard of Nixon’s house. “Is what true?”

  “The Commission?”

  How much to tell? I was caught between needing to protect the family but also protect my own ass—protect blood.

  “It’s happening,” I whispered. “Not that it makes any difference to you. That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

  “No,” he snapped. “But part of our agreement was that you’d give us any useful information.”

  “Useful information,” I corrected. “The kind that will help keep the bad guys behind bars and the good ones out free. So excuse me for not exactly thinking of calling you.”

  “We’ll be watching.”

  “Big Brother always is,” I said curtly. “Good day.”

  I shoved the phone back into my pocket and groaned. When had things gotten so complicated? Stepping out, choosing to help the family seemed like a good idea… but I hadn’t calculated what stepping out would do. There was a very serious reason I was a ghost. And it had nothing to do with not wanting to be a part of something big—but everything to do with being watched by the feds. I’d basically painted a target on my back the minute I stepped out of my alleged retirement.

  And now, the ones I owed favors to? They were going to come knocking.

  With a sigh, I walked back inside just in time to see Mo emerge from the bedroom. She looked… ravaged. Completely and utterly screwed.

  I tilted my head. Her face was flushed; her ponytail was even crooked. Amazing, that after everything, Tex still thought he had a fighting chance with the very girl pointing the gun at his back.

  In the end… he would choose Campisi.

  In the end… she would choose Abandonato.

  In the end… there would be bloodshed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Sex changes everything and nothing all at once.

  Mo

  “YOU LOOK RESTED,” Sergio said in a low voice.

  I stumbled against the wall, stupid bum leg, and blinked in his direction. His dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail low on his neck, his blue eyes searching mine as if he could see every damn area Tex had placed his hands.

  “I, um…” Scratching my head, I offered a tiny shrug. “I slept a bit. “

  “Sure you did.” Sergio grinned. It wasn’t a happy grin. It was absolutely predatory and pissed. “Did you need help with anything?”

  Crap. What I wanted was to spy on Nixon and Tex, but that wasn’t happening with Sergio breathing down my neck. “Water would be nice.”

  Sergio looked me up and down for a few more minutes his eyes hooding as his gaze settled on my lips. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll help you get to the kitchen.”

  “Oh that’s okay I just—”

  “Stop arguing Mo, I won’t bite you… not with his scent all over your skin. Not very sporting of me.”

  I closed my eyes as heat spread across my body.

  Sergio wrapped a muscled arm around me and then lifted me off the floor. I had no choice but to lean against him—he always smelled the same, like clean minty spice. It used to comfort me. But now? It made me sick. It reminded me of what I’d done with him. I blamed him when really I should have blamed myself. It was my fault not his.

  When we reached the kitchen he placed me on the counter like a little kid and stalked over to the cupboard. “You want ice?”

  “Please,” I whispered gripping the counter top with my hands like it was my only lifeline.

  Sergio gripped the cup in his hands and went over to the freezer, the ice plunked into the glass, making the room feel that much more tense.

  “He’s going to destroy us all.” Sergio’s back was to me as he filled the glass with water, his voice was so matter-of-fact and cold I wanted to shiver. “I hope you know that. He’s a Campisi, one doesn’t just stop being a Campisi.”

  Deflated, I tried to ignore the truth of Sergio’s words. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” He turned around and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And what makes you the expert?”

  “I just…” I chewed on my thumbnail. “I know his heart. He’s good, and what we’re doing…”

  “What we’re doing…” Sergio threw his head back and laughed. “Had nothing to do with you seducing him then screwing with his head, Mo. Absolutely nothing. So what the hell are you doing? Because I’m pretty sure the others would like to know as well.”

  “I’m making it real.” I swallowed the tightness in my throat and stretched my hand out for the water.

  Sergio sighed and placed the cold glass against my fingertips, not removing his hand but keeping mine trapped against his. “Mo, regardless of how real you make it—you can’t save him.”

  “But the plan was—”

  “—marriage.” He shrugged simply. “And you still got shot.”

  “But—”

  “Mo.” Sergio released the glass and placed his hands on either side of my hips, pressing his body against mine so forcefully I gasped. “He will die.”

  “No.” I shook my head forcefully. “I won’t let it happen. They said if we did it this way it would protect him.”

  “You do realize…” He lifted his head and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “I will save you before I save him.”

  “Don’t.” My lips trembled. “I’m not worth it.”

  “Let me decide your worth Monroe.” He took a protective stance in front of me. “And in the end, once this is over, I want you to remember, I was the one that was willing to forgive and forget whereas the one you claim to love—the one you want to save—is going to be dead in a month—for choosing blood.”

  Cursing, Sergio backed away and stalked out of the kitchen leaving me alone with my thoughts. No longer thirsty, I placed the glass on the counter and tried to get off the countertop. Yeah, that wasn’t working very well. My leg wouldn’t let me maneuver.

  After five minutes of trying not to kill myself. I slumped against my knees and waited for footsteps to come down the hall.

  Wonder of all wonders, it wasn’t Tex that had come searching for me but Nixon.

  “You weren’t in bed,” he snapped, his cold eyes fierce.

  “Right.” I sighed. “I was trapped on the countertop.”

  “Mind telling me how you got there?”

  “I flew?”

  Nixon grinned. “Smart ass.”

  “Love you too, brother.”

  His smile fell; he took a few tentative steps towards me. “Tell me you know it’s bad.”

  I nodded.

  “Tell me you know there will be death.”

  I nodded again.

  He cursed and wiped his face with his hands. “Tell me in the end—” His voice shook. “Tell me you’ll do what I say.”

  “I can’t.” With trembling hands, I wiped away the tears already running down my face. “I still love him.”

  “I know.” Nixon picked me up into his arms and carried me down the hall. “That’s the damn problem.”

  I sighed against Nixon’s chest. His tattooed arms were hanging onto me so tight you would have thought I was the most precious thing in the world to him. Then again, we wer
e all we had. Everyone else… dead.

  “Mo.” Nixon’s voice cracked as he placed me on the bed and then sat down on the mattress, his weight causing it to creak. “The Commission, we weren’t born yet…”

  “The first one.” I laid my head on his shoulder. “Did lots of people die?”

  “Well.” Nixon chuckled. “It wasn’t exactly a fiesta.”

  “Bite your tongue,” I scolded. “Sicilians do not have fiestas, we have parties, blood baths, you know, the cool kind.”

  “Right.” He sucked in his lip ring and leaned against his legs. His right foot tapping against the floor, made him appear nervous which, if you knew my brother, was totally out of character.

  “Are you okay?”

  “That would be a giant-ass no.” Nixon’s laugh was hollow. “I think she may be pregnant.”

  “Who?”

  His foot stopped tapping. “Who else, genius? Trace.”

  “Oh.” Well that was a bit of a shock. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because I know her, know her body.” And there went that foot tapping again. “And it suddenly all makes sense, you know?”

  “What does?”

  “Blood.” Nixon whispered hoarsely. “It makes so much damn sense, Mo. I would do anything—anything for blood.”

  “Like a vampire?” I joked, punching him in the arm.

  “Like a vampire,” he echoed, his voice losing its edge. “Mo.” He grabbed my hands. “I will always protect you, I’ll always protect what’s mine, but the choice Tex is going to have to make.” He squeezed lightly. “I guess I just need you to understand the pull that blood has on someone’s loyalty.” His eyes filled with sadness. “Regardless of how he feels for you—you aren’t—”

  “—blood,” I whispered. “So you’re saying.”

  “I’m saying in the end remember who you are.” Nixon shrugged. “Remember who he is.”

  “I’m tired.” I faked a yawn.

  “Right.”

  “Oh, and Nixon.” I gripped his hand together. “Tell Trace I’m happy for her.”

  Nixon’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “I would have thought you would have noticed by now… what with experiencing the same things… similar symptoms and such.” He crossed his arms.