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  He shakes his head in disparagement.

  “Not up for discussion.”

  “He spouts off again—”

  “He spouts off again, take it out in the cage; never outside of it. Contain it, Jagger,” I tell him.

  He shakes his head. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Tatiana elbows him and gives him a look.

  “Nothing, man, nothing at all.”

  “Good,” I say before walking away toward the ring. “Tito, you ready?”

  “You just beat the shit out of that bag for an hour, man; are you ready?” He laughs.

  “I’m always ready, smartass.”

  Buck doesn’t come back down, and I never go looking. He needs sleep, and I need to exhaust myself before facing what I have invited into my life.

  “Gonna head out. You two lock up tonight?” I ask my business partner and his wife.

  “You got a date?” Jagger snickers.

  I feel my eyebrow inching up with words of warning tipping on my tongue. That’s when Tatiana gives him an elbow to the ribs, silencing him.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going out to grab a mattress for Buck.”

  “Take the truck,” Jagger says, tossing me the keys to Shaw’s old rebuilt Ford F100.

  “The thing running today?” I joke.

  He winks. “Always running. Just waiting for a driver.”

  It’s been years since I drove, and this thing... it’s a stick shift.

  “Like riding a bike,” I remind myself as I turn the key, and the old engine roars to life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tatum

  His words, needs, desires; my words, needs, desires—all of it has me in such an unbelievable and out of control state. One that, regardless of how much I try, I can’t ignore. I won’t.

  Dressed in a black wrap dress and high heels, Italian takeout in my arms, I walk toward Legacy with a clear intent. Then I stop when I see him climbing out of a truck that has a massive mattress hanging over the tailgate.

  Something tingles deep inside of me when I think that maybe, just maybe, he bought the bed with intention of using it with me.

  He and his business partner Jagger carry the mattress inside, and I decide to sit on the bench across the road and wait for them to come out and get the box spring. When they do, I see Angelo look around then shake his head before grabbing the box spring and carrying it inside.

  Time passes slowly as I wait until what I feel like enough time has passed for me to go up. I take a deep breath and stand on shaky legs, which doesn’t mix well with heels, but I somehow manage to walk across the road without dropping the bag of food in my arms or falling over.

  When I get to the door, the lights turn out and Jagger and his wife walk out.

  “Oh, hey,” Tatiana says.

  “Hi. I um...” I close my eyes and sigh.

  Jagger chuckles. “Go on in; he’s upstairs. Just lock the door behind you before heading up.”

  “Yeah, of course,” I say as my confidence slowly fades.

  Tatiana grabs my elbow and gives it a squeeze. “See you tomorrow for class?”

  I nod. “Yes, of course. Sure.”

  Once I close the door, I look up to see Jagger making a twisting motion with his hand, telling me to lock the door. I nod and do just that. Then, feeling brave, I walk across the gym floor and to the door that leads to the stairway to his apartment. When he doesn’t answer after I knock, I twist the handle and find it unlocked.

  Walking up the stairs, I hear power tools. Now I understand why he didn’t hear me.

  At the top, I wait until the sound stops before I knock again.

  When the door flies open, he is standing there, looking down at me in confusion. I hold up the takeout bag in explanation, but he still stands in front of me, looking stunned, lost. He doesn’t say a word until I carefully balance everything and reach in the bag, pulling out the book.

  “This really isn’t a good time,” he whispers.

  “We got company?” I hear a voice from inside say.

  “No,” he says over his shoulder then looks back at me. “I mean, yes.” He pulls the door open wider, and I see the young man from the gym standing in shorts and no shirt.

  “Well, aren’t you being unhospitable.” He smirks at Angelo. “Come on in, lady with the bag of something delicious.”

  “Watch it,” Angelo sneers at him.

  Knowing that, if I don’t make a move, he’s going to ask me to leave, I take the last step up, forcing him to step back. Then I walk past him and set the bag on his kitchen counter, seeing the bed set up in the corner of the room.

  “You bought a bed.” I nod in its direction.

  “Buck needed a place to sleep,” he says, looking at me peculiarly.

  “So, the bed’s mine?” The young man he calls Buck laughs.

  “No, the mattress on the floor is yours; that’s mine.” He raises an eyebrow at Buck.

  “Bed’s big enough for two. We could snuggle and shit,” Buck ribs him.

  “Not likely,” he says, looking back at me.

  There is an uncomfortable silence that needs to end, so I do just that.

  “Well, I brought dinner. Italian, just like you asked.” I take the containers out of the bag and set them out.

  “Dinner for two?” Buck asks.

  “No, of course not. There is plenty for three.”

  “I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Buck says, goading Angelo.

  Angelo sighs heavily as he walks toward the door. “Set it up. I’ll be back.”

  “Where you going?” Buck asks. “And more importantly, how much time do me and the lady have alone?”

  “You feel like getting your ass kicked tonight?” Angelo asks, throwing on a hoodie.

  “Pft,” Buck scoffs, rolling his eyes.

  “Keep being disrespectful, and it’s a damn guarantee,” Angelo says before starting down the stairs.

  “Well”—I smile—“are there any plates around here?”

  “Smells delicious,” Buck says, grabbing a t-shirt and putting it on.

  “It’s from a place just down the block; Caldwell’s bar. They do dinner takeout nightly.”

  He laughs. “Jagger’s brother owns the place. Hendrix and his pregnant wife Livi.”

  “Small world.” I smile. “So, do you get along with them as well as you do Jagger?”

  “Jagger’s a dick. Thinks he knows everything.” He grabs some paper plates from the cupboard beside the sink.

  I shrug. “Seems like a nice enough guy.”

  “Yeah, to everyone but me,” he says with sadness in his voice.

  “Maybe you should try harder.”

  He stops and looks at me, face draining of emotion. “Maybe he should.”

  I nod. “Maybe.”

  “Be the good; that’s what he preaches. Inked up to high heaven with his momma’s legacy shit. Thinks his shit doesn’t stink because his mom and old man lived together. You know, better than the rest of us type of attitude. From what I hear tell, his old man beat the ever-living shit out of his mom, and she was stupid for not leaving his sorry ass. But, hey, her boys seem pretty fucking set, so maybe it pays to be a drunk’s whore.”

  I have no idea how to respond to that. He seems very angry, and I don’t want to provoke him, especially being alone with him. Therefore, I change the subject.

  “So, you got in a fight?”

  “Making bank in underground MMA. I’m good. The best. Better than Jagger ever was.”

  I hear the door shut and feet pounding up the stairs. Then Angelo is standing there with a bottle of wine in his hand, looking at me to gauge my reaction.

  I feel a smile spread and turn around so he doesn’t see it. Not because I don’t want him to know I appreciate the gesture, but because I don’t want him to see just how much I appreciate it.

  “Where would I find the cork screw?” I ask, s
till smiling as I open a drawer.

  I jump when I hear the sound of the electric screwdriver and look back to see he has a screw shoved into the cork and is using the screw gun to remove it.

  He shrugs, Buck laughs, and all I can do is smile.

  When we sit down to eat, dinner conversation is all about the gym and what Buck thinks needs changing, starting with the name. He complains that it’s all Jagger’s idea, the Legacy “shit,” and since Angelo owns part of it, he, too, should be represented.

  “Nothing wrong with a legacy,” he tells Buck then stares at him in a way that no one says a word.

  After we clean up the paper plates and containers, he offers to walk me out, which I suppose means I’m leaving.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he stops and looks at me. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Thanks for the wine,” I reply, unable to stop smiling, so I look down.

  He takes my hand and walks over to a door that I see is an office when he opens it. He lets go of my hand as he steps behind a desk and grabs something. It’s dark, so only when he walks around the desk do I realize he has flowers. Beautiful flowers.

  “For me?” I whisper.

  He nods and hands them to me.

  “I don’t know what to say. This is a first for me.” I smell them. “My God, they smell amazing.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as he eyes the bow on my wrap dress. My nipples tighten immediately as his eyes slowly move up my body, considering me for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath.

  “You look amazing in that dress.” He reaches for the belt and tugs me closer to him. Then he leans forward and inhales my scent. “Picked those flowers because they smell like you.”

  “I smell like lilies?” I whisper.

  “Sweet up here.” He pushes my hair behind my ear with one finger. Then he leans in as he tugs on the belt, causing the dress to fall open. Hooking his ankle on the chair behind him, he drags it closer to him, then sits down before reaching out and gripping my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips as he pulls me closer. He then leans down, resting his nose just below my belly button and inhales deeply. “Sweet and spicy down here.”

  “Angelo,” I whimper as he kisses my belly lightly then pulls me forward and groans when I am straddling him. He unties the rest of the belt and lets it dangle beside me.

  I am painfully turned on, my nipples knotted so tightly, needing his touch. My pussy grows wetter every second as he grips my hips again and grinds up against me.

  “I am hard... Always so fucking hard for you. How does that make you feel?”

  I open my mouth to respond, and only a whimper comes out.

  He slowly moves his hands up my sides until he cups each breast, running his thumbs up and down my bra. “I get off thinking about these tits, Tatum. How does that make you feel?”

  “G-G-Good,” I whimper.

  “I have never wanted my cock buried inside of a woman the way I want to bury it inside of you.”

  “Please,” I pant as I begin to rock my hips while his reaches inside my bra and pulls my tits out.

  He leans in and very slowly runs his hot, wet tongue across one nipple, then the next. “Your skin is like a dessert, Tatum. I crave your taste before I even eat dinner. Fuck, I crave a lick between bites.” He licks me again, circling my nipple as he groans.

  I press my breasts against his face shamelessly, needing, wanting, begging for more. And he gives it. He opens his mouth and sucks passionately at my breast while kneading the other, looking up at me, watching my every reaction as I watch his.

  I reach behind my back, unclasp my bra, and then pull it off. Now he grips both breasts in his hands and squeezes as he bites and tugs on my nipples, one and then the other repetitively.

  “I’m gonna come. Oh, God, I’m gonna come,” I chant, leaning forward and biting his shoulder.

  “Look at me, dammit,” he growls. “I wanna see you. Need to see you when you do.”

  “Please, please tell me why you won’t fuck me?” I ask, cupping his chin and looking at him.

  “I like to make you come. Fucking love to watch you come. Use me, Tatum. Fucking use me,” he says, leaning in and grabbing my nipple between his teeth again.

  “No... Oh, what am I...? I want you inside me. Please, please!” I cry as I feel my insides clench.

  He doesn’t stop. He sucks, and bites, and pulls at me.

  I reach between us and pull his rock-hard cock free from his jogging pants. Then I push my panties aside, and he growls as he pushes me back.

  “Why? Why won’t you—”

  “Condom,” he cuts me off, reaching into his pocket, pulling one out, and handing it to me. “Put it on me, and do it slow. I wanna watch.”

  My hands are shaking so badly that I nearly drop it.

  He grasps mine and squeezes. “You’re nervous. This doesn’t have to happen for a fucking book, Tatum.”

  “It’s not about a book, Angelo. I want to feel you. This isn’t for my story. This isn’t Jonathon and Annie. It’s you and me. I want you inside me. I want you to get something out of this, too.” I tear open the foiled packet.

  When I nearly drop it, he lets go of my tits and links his hands behind his neck, watching me.

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “You want my cock, you show me how badly.”

  “What does that mean I have to do? I absolutely do want you and need you inside me,” I say as I begin rolling it on him.

  “How long has it been, Tatum?”

  “Since I...” I pause, closing my eyes.

  “How long?”

  “A couple years,” I whisper as I finish sheathing him.

  “Good girl,” he sighs.

  “And you?” I ask, raising myself while holding his shoulders.

  He grabs his dick and rubs it up and down my sensitive skin. “I’m not gonna last long,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

  “Me, neither.” I lower myself slowly onto him.

  When I stop, his eyes dart from one of mine to the other. “You okay?”

  My heart pounds harder. I want him now more than before. “Take me, dammit.”

  He grips my hips hard as he pulls me down on him fully.

  The pain, the pleasure, the pressure are all too much. So much that I come immediately.

  “Yes! Oh, yes. Oh, God, please,” I beg. “Dammit, come with me.”

  “Fuck,” he groans and begins to rock me quickly on him.

  His grunts, his groans, the way his face hardens, the way his eyes search mine for answers, all of it causes me to come harder and longer than I ever experienced.

  I am finally rewarded with him pulsing inside of me with his release that is without a doubt as overpowering as mine.

  He wraps his arms tightly around me and pulls me tight against his body. Our hearts pound against each other’s chests as he softly, delicately kisses my neck and shoulder. Our bodies are both slick from exertion and the push and pull between us.

  He rubs his hands up and down my back slowly, steadily, as we catch the breaths that were just knocked out of us from the intensity of our orgasms. And once our breaths slow, he stops kissing me and pushes me back slightly. His eyes glued to mine are softer now than ever before. Almost reverent.

  “That was quick,” he says very quietly.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t control myself. I—”

  “Shhh... Don’t you ever apologize for that. I promise you it will only get better.”

  “So, we can keep—”

  “Using each other?” he asks, cupping my face and rubbing his thumb across my lower lip.

  I nod.

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  I smile, and he smiles back. Then he leans in and kisses me before standing up. I slide down his body and feel an emptiness inside of me when his cock slides out.

  “Let’s get dressed. Then I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

  When I nod and smi
le, he kisses me again.

  It’s strange. I thought I would feel something. I thought I would feel a pinch of a pain; some reminder of my past. Yet, looking into this man’s eyes, I find peace.

  Peace that I have not felt in too many years.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Angelo

  I lie in bed, eyes closed, feeling completely awake and alert. While I want to sleep, while my body needs the rest, I can’t turn my mind off.

  This connection. Our bodies joined together. Every movement of her walls clamping around me. My cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy like we were made for each other. It’s an ecstasy I never imagined.

  Sex is sex, they say for a man, but she opened herself to me, for me, begged for me, and allowed me deep inside. It felt so fucking good.

  Maria opened herself to a monster. It took her life, her soul, and mine, too.

  Tainted, damaged, and all laid out on the table in the open, and Tatum still let me in. She let me sink, bury myself in her.

  She doesn’t see a murderer. She sees the man I am today, and fuck if I’m not starting to see me, too.

  For a moment, I wonder if she knows that she is the first woman I have been inside. A younger man may have burdened himself with worry that he didn’t perform adequately. She came hard, just as hard as me, so I will be damned if I let that bother me.

  Son of a bitch. Tonight really fucking happened, and with a woman like her.

  Restless, I finally give in and lift the small journal in my hands. I almost give in to temptation and open it, but then I decide I am going to sleep so fucking well tonight that I don’t need it. I will wake up and open it tomorrow, craving her words, her desires.

  I sleep like a fucking baby, and when I awake, I can damn near feel the shit-ass grin of a kid who just hours ago came inside a woman.

  I wrote it, she made it happen, and I am going to read what the hell happens next before even taking a piss.

  Tonight, after Jonathon and I ate dinner, we had made love.

  It was the type of making love you know forever changes you.

  He had watched my every reaction, his rough hands caressing my body as his impressive length impaled me. Only, it hadn’t been like I was being impaled, fucked, used, simply seeking a release. It had been a lifelong connection. One a person sought, needed, and desired their entire life.