Faster (Stark Ink, #3) (21 page)

Ava silently cursed herself. She was supposed to tease him, not the other way around!

Emilio’s voice lowered to just barely above a whisper. “You’re a bad girl, muñeca. Fucking lying to me.”

She whimpered again. Her pussy was dripping. Her clit was buzzing. She half-feared and half-hoped she’d come right this second. “Do bad things to me,” she whispered back.

He looked down at her. His own hair was plastered across his forehead. His whole body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Fuck, he looked yummy. Suddenly, Ava wondered what he tasted like. She wouldn’t find it out, though. Not tonight, at least.

“Oh, is that how it is?” His voice was dark... liquid... dangerous. His hand slid over her hips and traced the curve of her cheek.

She shivered.

He nodded to himself as he looked down at her bare ass. “Yeah, I might know a thing or two about that,” he said quietly.

His hand came down on her ass. The sound of the smack reverberated off the walls.

Ava yelped, shocked. It was all so new, so surprising. She gasped and clutched the sheets.

“Too hard?” he asked, rubbing the spot where’d he’d just meted out punishment.

“No,” she panted.

“Let me know when it is.”

He hit her again, this time on the other side.

Ava’s fingers dug into the mattress. The buzz of her abused skin matched the tingle of her clit. The blows weren’t heavy. In fact, Adam’s needle had hurt worse. Ava loved the permanency that the pain brought when it faded and she had art to admire. As she glanced in the mirror hanging over the dresser, she wondered if Emilio’s handiwork would be the same.

Would he leave marks? Would she be able to see them?

She was slightly irritated that at that angle, she couldn’t tell. After a few more slaps, she forgot about it altogether. On the last slap, she cried out loudly.

He stopped and rubbed her stinging ass with both hands before slipping one between her legs. “Fuck, you’re soaked, Ava,” he hissed.

His fingers parted her and one dipped inside again. She grunted as she pushed back on his hand, half-mad with desperation. “Emilio!” she begged.

“Okay, okay,” he told her and she felt him moving closer to her on the bed.

He positioned himself behind her as he rubbed her, keeping her on edge. When he finally held her lips apart to gain entry, it was all she could do not to sigh in relief.

He pounded her hard from behind. His hands on her ass both highlighted her tingling skin and soothed it at the same time.

“Oh, God!” she panted.

“
Now
come,” he ordered.

Ava whimpered and tried to shove herself backward harder. He gripped her hips and pulled her toward him.

“Tighten up on me, muñeca,” he growled. “Let me feel that pussy coming for me.”

His words sent her over the edge. She felt a tightening in her body, a riot of sensation in her core. She closed her eyes and gave in to waves of pleasure that started at her clit and ended with her freshly-spanked ass.

Her arms finally gave out and she collapsed onto the mattress. Her face rested on the cool sheets and she gulped for air.

Emilio covered her instantly. His hands slid between the sheets and gripped her inner thighs. He pulled her legs apart and sank back into her quivering pussy. He fucked her slowly, this time, pushing all the way in until the curve of his pelvis grazed her ass. She gasped at the way it felt— hot, painful, arousing.

As he slid in and out of her, her clit rubbed against the gathered sheets underneath her. Impossibly, she felt another orgasm building inside her from the friction. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. “Emilio,” she whispered, because that seemed like all there was to say.

She wasn’t sure if he heard her.

He felt her, though, the way he always seemed to. As Ava’s pussy tightened again, he leaned down and she felt his hot breath in her ear. “Another one, muñeca? Damn, my baby’s greedy.”

She sighed as a second, smaller orgasm milked his shaft. After it subsided, she realized he was coming too. She felt her pussy stretch as he throbbed inside her. When he was finally finished, his weight left her. She was too tired to open her eyes and track his movements.

She heard the faint sound of a light switch and assumed he was in the bathroom. Seconds later, he returned. She felt his knee press into the mattress beside her. His hands caught her under her arms and strong arms pulled her to the head of the bed. Emilio laid her down beside him in the darkened room and she lost track of time, lost track of everything except the feel of him next to her.

“Gonna run from me now?” he whispered.

I
n the morning, before she opened her eyes, she felt the heavy, reassuring weight of him next to her in the bed. His breathing was slow and even, asleep. She wished she were, too. She could stay here forever, and never, ever move.

She tilted her head ever so slightly, the only concession she was willing to make. The clock on the nightstand read nearly 7 a.m. Ava closed her eyes again, allowing herself another five minutes of calm, quiet, and the scent of the man who’d rocked her world just the night before.

When the digital readout told her that her five minutes were up, she suppressed a groan, out of fear of waking him. She sat up slowly, very slowly, and slid off the edge of the mattress until her bare feet hit his carpeted bedroom floor. Even her toes didn’t want to leave.

She crept around the room, gathering her clothes off the floor, starting with her T-shirt. She pulled it on over her head and then snatched up her panties She paused before putting them on, though. Spying his mirror on the far side of the room, she tiptoed over to it and turned around. She lifted the hem of the T-shirt and craned her neck to get a good look.

Her cheeks were rosy, but nothing more, no serious bruises.
Like a sunburn
, she thought.

It seemed appropriate, she realized as she watched him sleep. He
was
the sun and she circled around him, coming back to him when things got too dark around her.

It wasn’t fair to him, especially since if Emilio knew the truth, he’d never want to be with her. She needed him, though. He was the only light she could see.

She took one last look as she crept out of the bedroom door. In the living room, she slipped the chain off the lock and took off down the stairs. Daisy was out on her porch again. “Another late night!” she said.

Ava waved because she couldn’t exactly disappear from sight. As she pulled on her helmet, Daisy called out, “See you this afternoon!”

Puzzled, Ava had to take a moment to consider the woman’s words.

Crap. The wedding. It was today! She’d been so caught up in not being caught that she’d flaked on the date. She nodded to Daisy, brought her Honda to life, and spun out of the driveway as though her hair were on fire.

Ava rocketed across town toward home. It was early and the wedding wasn’t until two but Calla and Zoey needed so much help and Ava didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with her two newest family members.

When she arrived at home, she bolted into the house to find Adam in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. Calla exploded from the dining room, brushed past Ava, and shot down the hall toward the bedrooms. Or so Ava thought. Instead, Calla disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly.

“Is she okay?” Ava asked Adam, depositing her helmet on the couch.

“Nerves,” he said, taking another sip. “There’s a thing with the cake.”

“What thing?”

“Right cake, wrong church.”

“Oh, no!”

Adam shrugged. “It’s fixed now. They’re bringing it to us. So long as no one ate any of it.”

Ava took the carafe from the coffee maker but paused while pouring herself a cup. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning,” she told Adam. “Who gets married at eight o’clock in the morning?”

From behind her, Pop said, “Catholics! Married and buried in the morning.” He flopped on the couch and searched for the remote.

Ava raised an eyebrow at Adam. “Is that true?”

Adam shrugged again. “Might just be a Pop-ism. I don’t think we know any Catholics.”

“Knew a Flanagan once,” Pop called over his shoulder. “Met him in the service. He drummed out, though.” He grunted. “Weak constitution. Too much fish,” he declared. “Not enough red meat.”

Ava looked at Adam. “Is he allowed to say that?” she asked quietly.

Adam pursed his lips. “Guess it depends on who he’s talking to. Pop. Pop! Is Flanagan invited to the wedding?”

Pop grunted. “He’s dead. Died about ten years back, or so I heard.”

Adam considered this at length. “Mercury poisoning?”

The old man glared at him. “Smartass.”

Calla emerged from the bathroom looking a little green around the gills.

Pop made a sympathetic noise when he saw her. “It’s all right, Calla. I’m sure the Catholics didn’t eat the cake.

“Unless it was made of fish,” Adam interjected.

Calla glared at him.

Ava groaned. “You’re not helping.”

“No, you’re not,” Calla snapped.

Ava looked at the two of them. “Are you supposed to see each other before the wedding?”

Adam snorted. “Kiddo, I’ve seen all of her, and then some. Why do you think I’m marrying her?”

Calla made a frustrated noise in her throat and stomped into the kitchen. Instead of arguing with Adam, she grabbed Ava by the wrist. “We’re going to the hairdresser,” she called out. “You need to get to the church by noon for pictures.”

Adam took another sip of his coffee. “I’ll do my best. Waiting on a delivery, though.”

Calla furrowed her brow at him. “They’re not bringing the cake
here!
” she informed him. “They’re taking it to the church!”

Adam hesitated. “Right,” he replied. “Okay.”

Calla sighed and dragged Ava toward the door.

“I can tape his mouth shut,” Ava offered. “All he really has to do is nod for the vows, right?”

Calla tossed a sharp look back over her shoulder at her fiancé. “Keep the tape handy,” she told Ava. “Church, noon!”

Pop saluted as they walked out the door.

Inside Calla’s Mustang, it took two tries before she even got the keys into the ignition. Ava assumed she was either nervous or pissed at Adam, or both. “I can drive,” she offered.

Calla gave her a dubious look.

Ava smiled. “I’ll even keep it under the speed limit.”

––––––––

S
afely ensconced behind the wheel, Ava pulled off from the curb extra slowly and turned on the blinker well before the intersection ahead of them. “Don’t be mad at Adam,” she told Calla. “He just sees you running around, getting upset, and he does the opposite. To keep things—I don’t know—on an even keel, I guess. I think it’s because he’s taken care of us for so long.”

Her soon-to-be older sister sighed and closed her eyes. “I know. I’m not mad. I know who he is. That’s why we’re here. It’s just... a lot,” she admitted.

Ava snorted. “Well, yeah. Two weddings? That’s crazy. I mean, not that it’s not cool,” she quickly corrected. “But it’s like, twice the work.”

“Eh,” Calla said, surprising her. “It’s just one cake, one florist, one photographer. It’s better this way, anyway. Saves money.”

A pang of guilt hit Ava in the gut. All this time she’d been racing, saving money to go on a trip. It had never even occurred to her that her family might need that money. There she was, being herself again.

Ava tightened her fingers on the steering wheel. “Do... do you need money?” The image of bricks of cash being stashed in a backpack for her to deliver across town flashed in her mind.

How did the Starks always seem to have too little money while assholes like the Buzzards were swimming in it?”

Calla opened her eyes and turned to look at her. Her features arranged themselves into an expression Ava had seen many times before. Calla’s high school guidance counselor face. Her reassuring face. Her The-Adults-Will-Take-Care-of-Everything Face. “No,” she said gently, patting Ava’s arm. “We’re fine. The shop’s doing well, actually. We just don’t need to waste money on two separate weddings, that’s all.” She smiled. “We’re a family, Ava. We’re in this together.”

Ava nodded, though she didn’t return the sentiment. They were a family. Which was why Ava was determined to protect them from the shitty choices she’d made, from the encroaching darkness. She wouldn’t bring them into it, wouldn’t taint them by their association with her.

She’d handle it. The way Adam always did. So that they didn’t have to.

––––––––

T
he church parking lot was filling up fast as Ava watched from the sidewalk. It made sense. Double the wedding meant double the guests. She recognized faces, from other services, from the neighborhood. The names didn’t always click. As Shooter Sullivan stepped out of a large Ford truck, Ava suddenly realized she’d never mentioned the wedding to Emilio.

She’d snuck out before he’d awoken. Though that wasn’t much of a reason. A wedding date seemed hokey, especially after what they’d done in his bed last night. She’d have been embarrassed to ask, even if he had been awake.

They had never really been on a date, now that she thought about it. She wasn’t sure why she even cared, but for some reason part of her did. Or maybe she just wanted an excuse to see him again.

She turned away from the lot and walked to a tree that shaded most of the sidewalk. Relishing the cool reprieve from the summer sun, she touched the screen of her phone and dialed Emilio’s number. They could go for a ride tonight. Maybe even a movie. It couldn’t hurt to ask him if he was busy. She tried not to think about how she’d feel if he turned her down.

As she brought it to her ear, she heard ringing behind her, as well. She turned and was surprised to find him standing behind her, just a few feet away. He actually plucked his phone out of his suit’s jacket and answered it.

Ava tried not to grin at his antics.

“Hello?” he said in a long drawl.

Ava shook her head at him, suppressing a grin. “Um, my brothers are getting married,” she informed him. “Both of them.”