Love and War: Part Two (Shadows in the Dark Book 2)

I stand against my truck, exhausted, wiping my hands down my face. Sleep doesn’t come easy without her home. Actually, it’s pretty much nonexistent. You can’t miss what you don’t know, but once you taste something good the craving remains.

I’m living on blow and caffeine, food between. I sit up all night, waiting and watching, ensuring she’s safe. Daybreak hits and I go home to shower and sleep until it’s time to be back at the shop. It’s never enough, because I’m so wound up and ready to see her that I’m lucky to get thirty minutes, an hour tops.

My mind is still spinning, processing all the new information. It’s wearing on me mentally, but I shove it aside as the front door opens, drawing my attention.

She steps out, pulling a small rolling suitcase behind her. My keys slip from my hand and hit the pavement, jaw falling. My eyes sweep from north to south, memorizing something that should never be forgotten. I’ve never seen her look like this: hair hanging in long, black, bouncing waves, lips the color of merlot, making her green eyes appear brighter. Her chest is bare, the deep V of the neckline coming to a point at her sternum, the tops inching close to the drop off of her shoulders. Black. The dress is black, long sleeve, fits like a glove, barely covers her ass, and she has legs for fucking days covered with fishnet stockings. Heels. God, the heels. They match her lips.

Illegal. That outfit should be illegal.

I slide my hands in the pockets of my jacket and pull the two sides toward the center, closing it without the zipper. She finally shuts the door and walks toward me from the halted position she’s in, a jacket hanging over her arm when it should be on her body.

I clear my throat when she closes in on me. “You’re going to freeze, Delta. We’re going to be outside later.”

“Lux said we have rooms. I brought warm clothes to change into later.”

“You really want someone to die tonight, don’t you?”

Her mouth tips as her eyes land on my crotch. “I’m assuming by that large, very noticeable bulge in your jeans that you approve?”

I grip her waist and switch our positions, pushing her against the door of my truck with my hips. “This is the shit that gets you pregnant.”

“No pun intended?” She laughs, and then she becomes serious. “My body isn’t going to look like this for much longer, you know. I already feel bloated as fuck.”

Her previous confidence falls. “I know.”

She stalls. “Are you going to still—”

“Want you?” I finish.

She’s looking up at me, eyes covered in heavy makeup, wonder present in them. She nods. “It’s just . . . I’ve . . . We never talked about this, before or since. I can try to—”

“Delta, why in the fuck are we having this conversation? There is no right answer for a man here. Why would you think of that kind of shit?”

“To prepare myself.”

“Jesus.” I rub my hand through the back of my hair, trying to find the words. The non-asshole version of words; something I don’t hold a skill in. “I can’t . . . I don’t . . .” I growl out, trying to figure out what the hell to say.

“Just tell me the truth, Kross. I can take it. You’ve never lied to me or spared hurting my feelings. Don’t start now.”

I place my palms on each side of her, demanding her full attention. “I imagine it’ll be an . . . adjustment, but I don’t see it making anything different. It’s not like I’ve ever fucked a pregnant woman before. Your pussy isn’t going to change, your face isn’t going to change, and the bigger tits keep my cock standing on a near constant basis. You’re incubating my kid. I’d like to think that makes it different than just looking at any woman sporting a large ball on her torso. I did this to you, regardless of who I’ve tried to blame for it.”

“So, you wouldn’t?”

“Nope. I wasn’t all that interested in sex before you, why would I be after?”

Then, as quickly as the paranoia came, it leaves, and a smile is left in its place—a seductive one. I grit my teeth when she grabs my dick, not expecting it. “You wanna see red lips wrapped around this at midnight?”

My thumb rubs side-to-side over the metal of her lip ring as I look at her, trying like hell to control the only limb that has disobeyed me since the night I took her for the first time. The uncontrollable fucker has gone stupid judging by her current knocked-up state. And the newly snug confinement it’s in proves it’s trying hard to get inside her hot, swollen, and always-wet pussy.

Christ.

The fact that her lips are a dull finish instead of shiny is making it harder to keep my hands off of her, because her sexy little body against the side of this truck is becoming more and more appealing with every passing second. I’ve never seen lipstick like that before.

“As tempting as that sounds, I have plans for you at midnight,” I grit, trying to hold it together. “I have plans all night that don’t include ripping your clothes off. Sorry, but tonight the dick is off limits. We’re doing . . . relationship shit.”

That word feels foreign coming from my mouth, but oddly, it sounds right. She grabs my hand, inching it between her thighs until the tips are pressing underneath her underwear. Liquid heat wraps around them as she forces me into her core. Fuck me. She’s so fucking swollen that my dick presses against my zipper, causing me pain. “Are you sure you want to deny me?” she asks in a voice that has my nuts tightening.

My fingers pump in and out of her against my will. She feels better with each thrust, the moans deepening with each one. “Are we taking one car or two?”

I pull my fingers out of her and straighten, attempting to push my dick down. “Thank you, Lux,” she whispers in aggravation. “Cock blocker.” And then fixes her clothing. I can’t help but to smile down at her. “What?”

“I said tonight. My dick is off limits tonight. Technically, after midnight would be tomorrow. I have every intention of fucking you into a sleep-induced coma before we call the celebrating quits.”

And then she rewards me with that smile I know is completely genuine. “Thank God.”

“That is if you can hang. You’ve been going to bed earlier lately.”

When she looks at me in question, I realize my slip. But then she bites the corner of her bottom lip, trying not to smile. “You’ve totally been stalking me, haven’t you?”

“Guarding is a better word.”

“I want to fuck you so hard right now.”

I walk around the truck when I hear footsteps behind me. “Separate. We’re riding separate,” I say, while opening the truck door to the passenger side, trying to distance myself so that I can force my cock into a sleeper. I look up, Lux standing next to Delta as Kaston backs the truck out of the garage. “I have something to do first. She can text you when we get to the hotel. Delta, let’s go.”

She hugs Lux and whispers something in her ear, before walking toward my side of the truck as Lux walks away. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” she answers, but the tone of her voice says she’s lying, and not in the malicious way. No, that tone says trouble. Trouble for any man with a thirsty cock.

Delta

My heart is so full and heavy it’s hard to breathe. My nervous energy has my hands twisting in my lap as we drive, sitting in silence; not an awkward silence but a comfortable one.

I’m happy, and some of the feelings thriving inside of me I don’t completely understand. They’re there, and I recognize them. I’m sure the rest I’ll work out in time. Thoughts are racing. Decisions are being made.

I prop my elbow on the door and look out the window, trying to hide my smile with my hand. All those nights I felt like someone was watching me finally make sense.

So many times, I swore I was being a paranoid nut-job because I had gotten used to living with someone and was suddenly alone. I should have known it was him when I wasn’t scared. Instead, I felt safe; safer than I’ve ever felt since I’ve been on my own. “About earlier . . .” His voice cutting through the warm space instantly pulls my attention. I look at him, sitting relaxed in the driver’s side. I remain quiet. “I won’t apologize.”

He’s making it really hard to remain serious, so I divert by asking a question. “How long?”

“Does it matter?”

God, I love him. “It does to me.”

“Since the night I realized if I didn’t, I would go on a killing spree in Atlanta. Already one under my belt. Anger and anxiety are the perfect recipe for insanity. Chaos is bad for business. Sloppiness is sure to follow. Pretty much the entire time you’ve been gone. I didn’t want you to know. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“How are you sleeping if you’re pulling a second job as my bodyguard? Or should I say third?”

“I’m not. And I’m busy enough between you and the shop. I need to get my shit in order. Dealing will just have to wait.”

Guilt consumes me. None of this was my intention by staying somewhere else. I wanted to give him the option of walking away with no strings attached. I wanted him to choose us for himself, not feel trapped because we were irresponsible with sex. “Kross . . .”

“I’m fine, Delta. Cocaine has its advantages. And I get a lot of thinking done.”

“I seem to remember having a conversation once that drugs were part of the job and nothing more.”

“You are my job.”

“I don’t want to be your job.”

He growls, as if he’s aggravated. “Protecting you is. You knew what I meant.”

“What you’re doing . . . many would argue that’s an act of love if you’re not on a payroll.”

He remains silent for a few moments. He’s thinking, working something out in his head. I’ve learned that about him. I process and understand through questions, he does it all internally. To most, he just looks pissed off. I know better. If he can’t work it out himself, he doesn’t understand it at all. “That’s something I don’t understand. I don’t know if I can ever . . .”

“You can,” I finish, but before he can say anything more, I reach over and rub my hand up and down on his crotch.

He grabs my wrist, still concentrating on the road ahead. “What are you doing? It took me a lot of bloody thoughts to make it go down.” I unbuckle my seatbelt that he forced me to wear. “Delta, put that back on before we have a wreck.”

He’s so damn cute.

The seatbelt thing just started since I’ve been pregnant. Already acting like a protective dad and I’m not even showing yet. I don’t think he even realizes the change. It’s subtle, but it’s there. That fact alone melts my heart. He’s not trying. It just comes naturally. Too bad for him, I’m a defiant little bitch.

Knees in the seat, I come across the console and nibble on his earlobe as I continue to rub, internally chanting as it quickly hardens beneath the denim. “Let me,” I whisper, letting my tongue lightly run up the inside edge of his ear. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

“I could wreck. Distractions like you are dangerous.”

I don’t miss the ‘you’ in that sentence. “I trust you, even with our child.”

I’m already unbuttoning his jeans when he releases my wrist. His hips buck forward when I reach inside and wrap my hand around it, pulling it out, and immediately finding a slow stroking rhythm. I never craved dick until I got a taste of his.

I wrap my lips around it and plunge—a direct result of my salivating pussy. His hand fisting roughly in my hair is the push I need to consume him whole; my greedy mouth hungry for that salty serum it holds. I suck with a goal. My hand jerks with purpose.

The deep growl that tears from his chest is my cue that he’s on the edge. The sharp pain of my hair being pulled at the roots tells me he’s about to come. The slight pulsing of his cock prepares me to take a drink. And like the thirsty bitch that I am, I hydrate, taking every single drop as he shoots his load into the back of my throat.

As I swallow and clean my lips, I sit up, tucking him back into his jeans. “Take the wheel,” he commands, and when I do, he fastens his jeans back. “I don’t want to know why you’re so fucking good at that.”

I can’t help the smirk that occurs as he takes back over, because I’m about to blow his fucking mind. “Believe it or not, I hated sucking dick until you. Only done it a handful of times before. I just like your dick enough to mimic enjoying my favorite frozen treat,” I tease. He looks between the road and me, no enthusiasm present from my lighthearted mood, a look of unmistaken uncertainty on his face. He thinks I’m lying or trying to inflate his ego. “Or maybe I should add that I like porn when I masturbate? Visual learning at practice just now . . . same difference.”

And with the fall of his jaw, I bust out laughing. “What? Girls aren’t supposed to like porn?” I ask.

“Where the fuck have you been for the last fifteen years?” he replies.

“Waiting for you?”

And then the hint of humor dissipates, and he turns back to the road. “Yeah, well, I finally found you.”

And with the sorrow in his words, my soul cries. Because coming from anyone else that sentence would qualify as an entry in the book of most romantic lines from a guy. But from him, you know it’s anything but romance, because in his mind it’s a very real truth.

He’s been stumbling around lost for a long time, but the irony in finding a lost thing is that you don’t know it’s lost when you find it, and that’s usually the time when you need it the most.

“And you never have to let me go if you don’t want to. I’m yours, Kross. We are yours.”

He grabs my hand, still looking out into the distance, navigating through the heavy traffic of Atlanta. It takes him a few seconds to find a comfortable position, as if it’s awkward for him to hold my hand but he’s trying to hide it. “Mine.”

His. Without a doubt. Everything inside of me relaxes. We’re going to last. I have to believe we will. For both of us. Because I can’t stand the thought of falling for another man. I want it to be him. Always and forever. ‘Til death do us part.