The Deadliest Sin Series Complete Collection, page 98
I reach up and brush my hand across Felipe’s cheek. “I'm not afraid of you. You wouldn't hurt me, but I can't lie and say that this thing with your brother doesn't make me uneasy.”
He narrows his eyes on me slightly. “This was set in motion long before you came into the picture, mi palomita, and once it’s over, things will calm down and return to a normalcy.”
“When will that happen? When will it be over?”
“Soon, mi palomita.” He brushes his lips to my forehead and holds me close. “Soon.”
“So, what happens now?”
It feels like we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, like something big is lurking in the shadows just out of eyesight and it will lunge out at us when we least expect it.
Felipe’s gaze softens. “I carry you inside and up the grand staircase to our bedroom and take care of you until what your brother did to you is a distant memory.”
“You're not going to hurt him, are you?”
He brushes his fingertips over my cheek, silent just long enough to make me shift on my feet before he finally answers. “I'll do my best to keep the people who support me safe in all of this.”
“But what if he doesn't support you? What if he sides with your brother?”
His jaw hardens, and his dark brows angle down over ominous, stormy eyes. In the light coming from the house, hitting one side of his face, I truly see the dichotomy of this man.
The light and the dark. The priest and lover. The caretaker and the killer rolled into one.
“We'll cross that bridge when it comes. For now, let's just worry about getting you better. I have my doctor coming to see you to make sure you're all right.”
“I'm okay. Just tired.”
“Then, let's get you to bed.”
Felipe bends down and lifts me easily into his arms, cradling me like precious cargo. I bury my face against his neck and inhale. The typical scent I associate with Felipe mingles with the metallic tang of gunpowder. Evidence of what he did to get me back, of what lengths he will go to in order to protect me.
It's a scent I’m sure will become familiar to me in the next few weeks and months.
There will be blood, sweat, and tears. I just hope it isn't ours.
FELIPE
Rowan's chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm. Just like it has for the last six hours since I first woke. Just like it has over the last two days since I brought her home from Galen’s. Yet, I still find myself standing here, leaning against the door jamb, watching her to make sure she's still breathing, that she's still okay. Even though Doc assured me that she’s going to be fine, that she was very lucky, that someone was “watching out for her.”
There was a time in my life when his words might have meant something, when I might have actually considered the possibility that God had somehow protected her from Galen’s gunshot. When I might have believed there was someone who brought her into my life for a reason—maybe more than one—but I no longer believe in fairytales. Not when I've seen white knights turn into monsters. Not when I saw my brother become a killer so easily and watched him morph into someone I don't recognize even though we share a face.
It's unfortunate, really, but the time has come for lines to be drawn in the proverbial sand, for sides to be chosen.
What went down with Rowan and Galen may make achieving his compliance more difficult. It certainly wasn't how I had planned it, by any means. But it is the reality now, and once he understands the situation, once he fully grasps how dangerous I am and how treacherous it will be for him if he aligns with Andres, he'll end up on the correct side.
All I need to do is send a message to him and the rest of the families before we have our meeting, something that unequivocally tells them I shouldn't be fucked with. And I know just what to do. Though, the thought of leaving Rowan to actually do it makes me reach up and rub the ache in my chest.
She doesn't have any protection here. The men I've brought to replace the idiots who lost her in the first place have been loyal to the cartel for years in various other locations, but I don't know how they’ll react when they learn
the truth about who they've been working for or where they will come down on my feud with Andres.
I can't trust them yet, not even with the location of this house. Nor do I want anyone else here. She needs this time to decompress and heal without wondering who is lurking around.
She will be safe. No one knows about this home or could possibly trace us here. Still, the need to check on her—again and again and again—makes me push off the door jamb and move to the bed. I reach out and brush my fingertips through her soft red hair.
Despite repeatedly berating myself and telling myself not to, I can't help but worry after all she's been through. A weaker woman would have broken by now, would have crumbled and become a shadow of herself, but Rowan has held her own, has shown her strength and ability to defy me over and over again. If she were afraid of me the way I feared she would be, she wouldn’t do that.
She rolls toward me slightly, and her eyes flutter open. “Hey, what are you doing?”
I smile at her. “Watching you sleep.”
A light laugh slips from her lips, the first time in days she's done that without wincing. “Because that's not creepy at all.”
Chuckling, I lean down and drop a kiss on her forehead. “You're going to have to get used to me doing things like that, mi palomita. I like watching you when you’re sleeping so peacefully.”
“Why?”
“Because it helps me believe that your nightmares are gone.”
I hold my breath after that confession, the fear that it isn’t true preventing me from moving or drawing in any more air.
Rowan sighs softly and leans into my touch. “For the most part, they are. But I still get these flashes of memories.”
“Your parents? Galen?”
She nods, her pale brow furrowing. “I think so.”
“Are they bad?”
Rowan shakes her head. “Not really. Just murky. I'm hoping my brother can fill in some of the gaps in my memory. Remind me of the good things I lost along with the bad ones.”
“I'm sure he will.”
She watches me for a moment, waiting for me to offer something else to her. “When can I talk to him again?”
Never.
I press my lips together to bite back my initial inclination to say something that would break her heart. The man did shoot her, but I know he wouldn’t hurt her willingly, and telling her she can’t see him would only drive a wedge between us. I have no intention of keeping her from Galen as long as I'm confident of his support. “Soon. I wanted you to regain your strength before you start delving into any more potentially painful memories.”
“I’m okay, Felipe, I promise.”
“Good, but it doesn't mean I’ll stop worrying about you.”
She yawns and stretches. “You know what sounds great?”
“What?”
“A shower.”
“The doctor said that's fine as long as we used the adhesive film bandage to keep your wound dry. I'll go turn it on and let the water warm up.”
“I can do it, Felipe.”
She starts to push herself up, but I gently press her chest back down.
“I know you can, but let me take care of you.”
For the first time in my life, someone else’s well-being and happiness means more to me than my plan, more than what I should be out doing right now in order to take care of the Andres situation.
She scowls a bit. “I took care of myself for a long time.”
“I know.” I press a kiss to her lips. “But you don't have to anymore. You can enjoy life without all the things that have threatened you in the past always keeping you on edge.”
“Now, I'll just worry about you.”
“You don't have to worry about me.”
Her lips twist into a frown, but she doesn't say anything else as I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Icy-cold water sprays in the massive glass-encased stall, and I crank it to the left to heat the water. After lying in that bed almost non-stop for two days, it will feel good for Rowan to get clean, to hopefully wash away the pain of what happened.
I step back out into the bedroom and find her sitting on the edge of the bed, like she’s trying to gather up enough energy to push to her feet.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach. She got hurt because she didn’t trust me. Because I hurt her with the deception I had to use with Kat. She watches me advance on her slowly, and I scoop her up into my arms.
A little yelp flies from her mouth. “I can walk, Felipe.”
“I know. But I enjoy carrying you.”
Her perfect pink lips curl into a grin. “My knight in shining armor.”
I bark out a laugh. “I don't know if that's a fitting description.”
One of her blond brows rises. “My knight in a white collar?”
Shaking my head, I snort. “Not anymore.”
“What are you going to do about the church?”
“I've sent in my resignation letter. It isn't unusual for priests to leave the church. Especially now, when faith is being questioned more and more. They'll replace me and it'll be as if I was never there.”
“That's not true. Your parishioners love you. They'll definitely miss you.”
“They'll be fine. And I don't want to talk about that right now. Forget the past. I want to concentrate on you and what you need.”
And how I can give it to her.
FELIPE
Steam from the running shower fills the bathroom and envelops us more and more with each step I take. I lower Rowan to the tile and hold her gently as she finds her balance. She squeezes my arms and offers me a little half-smile of appreciation.
I reach for the hem of my shirt she’s been sleeping in to pull it up and over her head. Letting it drop to the floor, my focus falls on the way her perfect breasts hang, her nipples pebbling under my assessment despite the warm, humid air. My cock twitches to life, and I slip my fingers along the waistband of her panties and slowly drag them down her legs, exposing her fully to me.
This isn’t the time to be reacting to her this way, but when it comes to Rowan, any control I had over my body’s responses to her disappeared with the collar. It was like a white chastity belt, helping me tame the beast inside while I had to, but once it was unleashed, it refuses to be put back into that damn cage.
Now that I’ve had Rowan, I will never be able to get enough. Just not right now. Not when the evidence of her injury is staring me right in the face.
I brush my hand over the wound, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react to my touch except to wrap her fingers around my wrist and hold me there, like having my palm against her marred skin will somehow help it heal.
With my free hand, I grab the protective bandage Doc left for showering. Rowan releases my wrist and allows me to carefully cover the injury before I open the shower and help her into the hot spray.
She steps under it, turning her face up to the water. My dick aches watching it sluice over her breasts and down her stomach, and I quickly undress and slide in behind her, the steam engulfing me.
Her green eyes meet mine over her shoulder. “You're joining me?”
I wrap my arms around her from behind and nuzzle the back of her neck. “I would never miss an opportunity to be naked with you.”
She giggles softly and drops her head to lean back against me. “True.”
Instinct wants me to grind my hard cock against her ass, but instead, I kiss her behind her ear and take a step back. This is about taking care of Rowan. About what she needs, even if she doesn't want to admit it.
Her reluctance to accept my help over the last few days has only grown, but I wouldn’t expect anything else from a woman who has been through everything she’s suffered during her life. She took care of herself for a long time and never wanted to rely on anyone—for good reason.
But it’s different now, and she needs to learn that I won’t stop caring for her or allow her to brush aside my efforts. Aside from Sofia, Rowan is the only person I’ve ever wanted to protect so badly, ever been so intent on securing their happiness. It’s all I want for her. The only selfless and good thing I’ve ever wanted in my life, the only remaining sign that I’m even human most days.
I grab the shampoo bottle, squirt some onto my hand, and slowly lather it into her red tresses. She issues a little groan that makes my cock twitch again and drops her head back to my shoulder.
Her eyes drift closed. “Oh, that feels good.”
The strands darken in the water, sliding through my fingers like silk, and I turn her around to rinse the suds from her hair. Water cascades over her exquisite form, down her neck, over her breasts, and her legs. The only thing that stops me from pushing her back against the wall and driving into her relentlessly is the wound at her side and the last remaining ounce of restraint I possess.
Instead, I slip my hand down her taut stomach and between her legs. She jerks, and her eyes fly open to meet mine. But she doesn’t push me away, doesn’t object. She just holds my gaze as I gently brush my fingertips through her folds.
“What are you doing?” her question comes breathy and barely audible over the sound of the running water and my own blood pounding in my ears.
“Making you feel better. You tell me at any time if this hurts.”
I slip a finger inside her, and a gasp tumbles from her open lips. She wraps her arms around my neck, shifting her weight and opening her legs slightly to give me better access. My thumb finds her clit, and she drops her head back, letting the water course over her as I work her body up slowly, curling in to find that perfect spot deep inside her.
A low moan vibrates her chest, and her legs start to shake. I lean forward and capture her mouth in a kiss that almost makes me come on the spot. Her tongue tangles with mine, twisting and caressing my mouth the way I long to feel it against my skin.
Her hands drift down from my neck, and she wraps her palm around my cock, making me jerk back.
“Fuck, Rowan, you don't have to do that. This is about you.”
She tightens her grip in response, apparently unmoved by my objection, and kisses me again. I roll my finger over her clit and probe her hot cunt. Our movements become more frantic, but if she is experiencing any pain, she isn't showing it now—her face a mask of pure pleasure rather than the anguish that's been there recently.
This is what I wanted. To give her the pleasure and relief she deserves rather than the pain and uncertainty I have given her so much of.
Rowan clings to me with one hand and brushes the pad of her thumb across the head of my cock, stroking me with the other. I groan into her mouth, slipping my tongue between her lips, desperate to taste her.
This isn’t enough.
I pull my hand away from between her legs, and her eyes fly open. But before she can utter a single word, I lower myself to my knees and urge her thighs apart to truly get what I want, to taste her release.
The second her arousal hits my tongue, I groan and pull her even tighter against my face. She buries her hand in my hair, and I slip two fingers inside her while I stroke my aching cock with my other hand.
She tugs hard on my hair and I issue a low moan of approval against her wet flesh. The hot water trickles over us the faster we race toward release. Every flick of my tongue and pulse of my fingers seems to wind her tighter until she finally stiffens. I suck her clit in between my teeth and gently bite down.
“Fuck!” Her pussy tightens around my fingers and her body shakes. The orgasm rolls through her hard, dragging mine with it, and I shoot my cum across the shower tile as she soaks my mouth and tongue with her release.
She sags slightly against me, and when I finally stop seeing stars and pull my head back, I wrap my arm around her to keep her from tipping forward.
I press kisses up her body as I push to my feet until I finally find her lips and angle her head back with a tug on her wet hair. Nothing tastes better than Rowan on my tongue, and now she’s tasting it, too.
Even at the end of eternity, I could never get enough of Rowan.
The fact that I'm going to have to leave her in the bed alone tonight, that I need to slip out as soon as she falls asleep, makes an ache form in the center of my chest.
But there's something I have to accomplish.
A message must be sent, an invitation handed out in a fashion that leaves no question about what’s coming.
FELIPE
The pale first light of the sun just starting to rise peeks over the horizon, marking the start of a new day, and the timing couldn’t be more poignant. My final destination lies just ahead, and as I make my way through the sleepy neighborhoods of Galen’s territory, a sense of peace I haven’t felt in a long time—if ever—settles over me.
As hard as it was to leave Rowan sleeping peacefully in our bed, it was necessary to accomplish this task. The meeting of the families will happen, and they will know going into it which side they should end up on. These invitations will guarantee that.
Spending the entire night hunting down everyone I needed to in order to carry out my plan was well worth it in the end to send this kind of message, to assure compliance when the time comes and that they won't underestimate me simply because of the collar I've worn for the last two decades.
With the same bloody messages already sent to Valentina, Valerian, and Kat, only one of the major families remains—perhaps the most important one. The one I hinged all my plans on when I first learned about Rowan. The one that could make or break this for me.
I turn the van down the final street and stop in front of the Bottom O’ the Well. The last time I was here, I decimated Galen’s men and carried Rowan out in my arms, her body broken and inexcusably scarred.
Today, it's a different body I'll be carrying, and for a completely different reason. Nothing says “you’re fucked” quite like waking up in the morning to find one of your men slaughtered on your doorstep.
