Loaded: A Bad Boy Romance (23 page)

After a long time I float to the surface and she’s got her arms wrapped around me, holding my head tight to her chest.

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say, so I stay perfectly still and go soft inside her. I listen to her heartbeat and I wonder if this is the last time.

I wonder what the fuck I’m going to do if it is.

H
e’s
quiet for a long time, and we stay like we were. After I finish I realize he’s in my arms and I’m in his and I’m stroking his hair.

At last, he takes a deep breath and I tense.

“I don’t think I can do this, Tessa,” he says.

I swallow, because I think I know what’s coming.

“Do what?” I ask.

“I can’t be your fuck buddy,” he says. “I can’t be your backup plan. I can’t be your dirty secret. I can’t
torture
myself like this, coming over at night and doing
this
and never getting the rest of you.”

This is exactly what I was afraid of.

I stand, wobbly at first, and walk to the window and peek through the curtains at the lights of Portland, resting my head against the window. I wish that
anyone
else had kidnapped me, but no. It had to be the one person I want more than anything.

After a minute, he follows me.

“Tessa,” he says.

I don’t move.

“Turn around,” he says, and I still don’t, because I’m afraid that I’m going to be seeing him for the last time.

“Fucking
look
at me,” he says, and puts a hand on my shoulder and I finally spin around, looking up into his perfect blue eyes.

I swallow.

“What?” I whisper, because I’m on the verge of tears.

“I can’t keep acting like I didn’t fall for you,” he says, his voice somewhere between sad and angry. “This is gonna tear me into goddamn
pieces
if we keep it up, tiger. I can’t be with you halfway.”

I sigh, and suddenly the dam I’ve been holding back breaks and I start crying.

“Fuck,” I mutter, wiping away tears. “Goddammit, I hate this.”

Alex reaches out for me but I step back, out of his reach, and take a deep breath.

“I’m afraid that there’s two of you,” I finally say. “There’s the you who’s here now, who fucks my brains out and who moved to Portland to find me and who tells me about his dead brother, and there’s the version of you who shoots people without thinking twice and breaks people’s jaws,” I say.

Now I’m shaking, still holding myself. He steps forward but I hold up one hand.

“I think the first one is the real you,” I say, my voice just a broken whisper. “And I cried for weeks when I found out
that
Alex died, even though I never told anyone. I moved here to get away from thinking about it, and I tried to forget it happened because I knew I could never
explain
it to anyone. Because it sounds
completely insane
to say that the one person you want, more than
anything
else, is the guy who kidnapped you.”

I gulp air.

“I like
that
Alex,” I say. “But I’m
still
afraid I’m wrong, that the other version is the real one. I’m afraid I’m lying to myself because I’m some kind of idiot. That I couldn’t see the truth because I
liked
you too much.”

“It’s not,” he says. “I swear to God, Tessa, it’s not.”

I just look at him, both hands shaking and in front of my mouth, like if I keep them there he can’t tell what a goddamn
mess
I am.

“Can I hold you?” he asks, and I just nod and then he’s pulling me against him, my head in the spot where the LC tattoo used to be.

I give up trying to keep it together and just
sob
into the arms of the man whose heart I think I broke, because the world is ass-backwards sometimes.

“And then you were
dead
and I thought it was over and I wouldn’t have to decide,” I whisper. “How do you mourn someone you’re not supposed to want but
do
?”

“I wanted to tell you,” he said. “I couldn’t. I wanted to.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper between sobs. “I think I fucked this up and I don’t even know what un-fucked looks like.”

He just strokes my hair and holds me tight until the sobbing stops and I get the hiccups.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks.

“No,” I whisper.

“I didn’t think so,” he murmurs. “You never acted like it.”

“I should have been,” I say.

“I’m glad you weren’t,” he says. “A lot of people were.”

I swallow.

“I always felt safe when you were there.”

“Even when you thought I was going to shoot you?” he asks.

There’s a long pause.

“Well, no,” I say. “But that worked out.”

“I couldn’t think of any other way to do it,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head.

“Don’t be,” I say.

“That morning, when I left, I called my boss and he told me he’d sent guys to kill you because he knew I didn’t want to,” he says, slowly. “And I tried to tell him that he shouldn’t, but it was already done.”

He squeezes me tighter.

“So I decided to rat on the cartel instead of letting them kill you,” he says, and then sort of laughs. “I actually didn’t think I’d survive this long.”

I hold him tighter against me.

“But I knew I’d rather die than let them hurt you,” he says. “I never regretted it. Even if you turn me down right now and I walk out of here and never see you again, I don’t regret it.”

“Don’t go,” I say automatically.

“Don’t turn me down,” he says.

“You haven’t suggested anything yet,” I say.

He laughs.

“Don’t ever stop arguing with me,” he says.

He leans back and pushes my hair out of my face.

“Is that the suggestion?” I ask, lifting my eyebrows.

“Give me a shot,” he says, his voice going serious. “Go on dates with me. We’ll see movies and go to dinner and whatever it is regular people do.”

I can’t help smiling.

“I’ll bring you flowers and chocolates and shit, and I’ll pick you up for dates and we’ll meet each other’s friends and everything,” he says.

“You want to be my boyfriend,” I say.

“Yes,” he says. “Tessa, let me be your boyfriend. At least try me out.”

I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

“You can
not
go through my phone and text people,” I say.

“I know better,” he said. “I swear, never again.”

“Never?”

“Never,” he says. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

I run my hand down his arm, skimming over the tattoos of Santa Muerte and his brother’s dates, and I have this moment of wonder that despite all this, he’s here with me now.

It almost feels like
gratitude
.

“I can get rid of La Santa Muerte if you want,” he offers.

“Don’t,” I say. “I’m glad you made it to twenty.”

“Good. I’d like to make it to thirty.”

“Don’t get rid of any of them,” I say. “Who you used to be isn’t going to just disappear.”

“So if you’re telling me what to do with my tattoos, is that a yes?” he asks.

“It’s a yes,” I say. “As long as I’m still your fuck goddess.”

“
And
my dirty fuck tiger or whatever I said the other day,” he says. “Can I have a kiss?”

I snort.

“Don’t start
that
,” I say.

“Start what?” he asks.

“Don’t start asking permission because you’re my boyfriend now,” I say. “Just fucking kiss me.”

He does.

“
M
aybe he got cold feet
,” our friend Josh says.

His girlfriend Marisol rolls her eyes and smacks him playfully.

“He’s
parking
,” she says.

Alex’s mom comes up and puts her hand on my shoulder.

“He would never,” she says, very seriously.

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m not worried. He’s parking the car.”

My dad looks at the big clock in the atrium of Portland City Hall as the minute hand
clonks
over ominously. Four minutes to three, when we’ve got our appointment.

“Maybe he made a break for the Canadian border,” Josh says.

Marisol and I just roll our eyes.

“What’s Canada got that I don’t have?” I ask, giving Josh a hard time while I wait.

“Moose?” he asks.

“Sure,” Marisol says. “Alex got cold feet and left her at the altar because
she doesn’t have any moose
.”

Josh just grins and kisses her on the cheek.

The clock ticks over again and my dad elevates his pacing to a whole new level. He and Alex’s mom are the only ones here who know the
real
story of how we met, and I wish they would stop exchanging those
looks
.

Alex and I drove here together. Ten minutes ago. From our apartment. He dropped me off out front of City Hall because I’m wearing heels and went to go park the car.

I’m not getting
jilted
, for fuck’s sake.

But when the clock ticks down to two minutes left, I start worrying. Not that he’s left, but that we weren’t as safe as we thought. That some leftover element of La Carretera found him parking his Honda Civic in downtown Portland, or that someone he busted in his new job got mad and took him out.

Finally
, with one minute left, I see him walk through the front door below and look up at us, standing on the third floor mezzanine.

I wave. Josh and Marisol cheer. His mom puts her hand on her heart. My dad relaxes visibly.

Alex gives us a thumbs up, then jogs to the stairs.

“I
told
you,” I say.

Moments later he’s turning the corner and walking toward us, looking sharp as
fuck
in a three-piece suit, every bit as tall and handsome as when we met three years ago.

“Sorry,” he says, coming up to me and putting a hand on my back. “The parking garage was full and I had to go to a different one.”

“We thought you left for Canada,” Josh says.

“Nobody thought that,” I say.

“Why Canada?” Alex asks. “All the strip clubs are right here in Portland.”

I laugh. His mom looks embarrassed and my dad frowns, but then the door to the Pioneer Room opens and there’s a hush for a moment.

“Last chance for Canada, buddy,” Josh says.

The four of them go in first and sit down, but just as I’m about to follow them, Alex grabs my hand and tugs me back outside.

“I want one last kiss from my girlfriend,” he says.

“I’m your
fianceé,
” I say.

“You gonna argue, or you gonna kiss me?” he asks, putting his hand on my lower back as he bends down and plants his lips on mine.

I put one hand on his shoulder and move my mouth against his
just
a little and his arm tightens around me.

It goes on a
little
longer than a public kiss in City Hall probably should. When we pull back he takes my hand in his and smiles at me.

“Ready, tiger?” he says.

“Ready,” I say.

We walk in holding hands, and all four of our wedding guests applaud politely. The Justice of the Peace is a smiling woman with gray hair and glasses, and whatever she says I barely hear.

Alex holds my hands in his and even though he’s trying to listen to what the officiant is saying, he’s absently rubbing one thumb over my knuckles, and it’s so comforting and
protective
and I’m so overwhelmed that I somehow ended up here, with him, that I almost cry.

The officiant lowers the book she’s holding and looks at us.

“Tessa and Alejandro have written their own vows,” she says. “Who’s going first?”

“Me,” I say instantly, because I’m already on the verge of losing my shit completely. I pull out a typed sheet of paper, because I’ve been working on this for a month and got all the words totally perfect.

I take a deep breath and crumple it into nothing, then look up at Alex.

“I was never sorry I met you,” I say.

He squeezes my hand. It’s probably a weird way to start wedding vows, but this is an atypical wedding.

“There was one time when we first started dating that we just watched movies all day on the couch,” I say, looking up at him. “And I remember I fell asleep on you almost right away, because even
then
, I knew I was safe when I was with you.”

“
Pretty Woman
?” he murmurs, and I nod, glad that he knows
exactly
what I’m talking about.

“I love that you’re never boring,” I say, my voice just a whisper now. “I wake up every day and think how fucking
lucky
I am that you’re there next to me, against all odds.”

I swallow. I’m crying now.

“I love you,” I barely manage to whisper.

There’s a loud sniffle from the crowd. Alex’s mom is crying.

“My turn?” he asks.

I just nod, pretty sure that if I say anything I’ll have a total break down.

“You’re the bravest person I know,” he says. “I fell for you the second I met you. I’m still falling. I would have crawled across the desert on my hands and knees to get back to you. I’d do it tomorrow. Sometimes I see you across a room and still can’t believe that you’re mine, and I wonder if this is a dream and I’m going to wake up someday.”

He swallows, and his voice lowers.

“This is it, tiger,” he says. “You were
it
for me from the moment I caught you. No one makes me feel like you do.”

He sneaks a quick glance at his mom, then leans in close to my ear.

“You’re my filthy sex tiger and you’re my fuck goddess, and I fucking
love
you,” he murmurs.

I turn
bright
red, and he’s grinning.

“I love you,” he says again, this time so everyone can hear it.

The officiant nods. If she heard what he said, she’s got a great poker face.

“Do you have rings?” she asks, and Marisol jumps up, handing them over.

Alex has mine and I have his. It’s a thick, simple gold band but it’s heavy in my hand, and I realize that Alex is going to wear this for the rest of his
life
, this thing I’m about to put on him.

I close my hand around it and squeeze.

“Do you, Alejandro, take Tessa to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do,” he says.

I slide the ring onto his finger and then squeeze his hand.

“And do you, Tessa, take Alejandro to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” I say.

He slides mine on, a smaller, thinner version of his, and I stare at it for a moment. Then I look up at him, and he starts grinning, and I do too.

“Now that you’ve exchanged vows,” she says. “By the power vested in me by the state of Oregon, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

Then I’m in Alex’s arms and he’s in mine and kisses me. It’s soft at first, tender, but then after a moment it deepens and I nearly forget where I am, in front of several people during my own wedding because there’s nothing but the two of us.

Finally we pull back and realize the officiant is looking at us with a wry expression on her face, and everyone is laughing.

“You may
now
kiss the bride,” she says, and he does.

W
e go
for dinner and drinks with our parents and our friends. The restaurant figures out from my tea-length white dress that we just got married, so they give us free champagne.

“Appropriate,” he murmurs in my ear. “We met when you leapt for champagne.”

“I thought we met when you saw my picture the night before,” I whisper.

“That wasn’t
meeting
, tiger,” he says back.

We’re being super rude, carrying on right at the dinner table like this, not including anyone else.

“That was just lust at first sight.”

“Romantic,” I say. “You should have included
that
in your vows.”

“I thought
fuck goddess
got it across pretty well,” he says, and for a second I think he might bite my ear while his mom is watching, but he doesn’t.

I wonder how inappropriate it would be to sneak off and fuck my husband in the bathroom of this very fancy restaurant.

W
e rented
a hot tub suite in the Portland Biltmore with the money we didn’t spend on a wedding, and the moment the elevator doors close my back is against the elevator wall and his erection is pressing against me, both his hands on my ass.

“I was right about something,” I say.

“What?” he asks.

“We never did fuck in an elevator,” I say.

“Not
yet,
” he says. “We’ve got ten more floors, tiger.”

“Then get to it,” I say, unbuttoning his suit vest as the elevator slows.

A couple with two young children gets on. They look confused when the elevator’s going up.

We behave ourselves until our floor, and then Alex pushes me up against our hotel room door.

“I still want you bad enough to fuck you right here,” he whispers, pulling my dress up as I bite his bottom lip. He moves his fingers up my thigh all the way to the top, and then frowns.

Then laughs.

“You forgot panties, tiger,” he says.

“I didn’t
forget
them,” I say.

He runs one finger along my slit, grinning, and I arch my back against the door, fighting down a moan.

At last, he reaches into his pocket and pull out the key card. He unlocks the door and then picks me up, carrying me inside and pushing me against a wall as I wrap my legs around him.

“Think you taste married now?” he asks into my ear.

“Wait,” I say.

He frowns.

“I have a surprise,” I say. “Put me down.”

“What is it?” he asks.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” I say.

He grumbles but puts me down, and I head to the room where our suitcases are.

In no time flat I’ve changed out of my wedding dress and into another outfit completely, and as I walk back to where Alex is, I grab a bottle of water from the dresser and then stand in the doorway.

“Holy fuck,” he says, a grin spreading across his face.

I walk toward him slowly, then sit on the edge of the hot tub and open the cap on the water bottle as he watches me, nearly panting with anticipation.

I take one sip of water, and just let him think about what’s going to happen. I’m wearing a tight white tank top, no bra, and a denim cutoff skirt that would get me arrested if I wore it outside.

I pour the rest of the water on myself and then stand up and Alex is there, his mouth on mine as I tear him out of his clothes.

“I’m not driving this time, tiger,” he says.

“Maybe it won’t be so hard to get you to give me what I want,” I say.

He laughs.

“When has that ever been hard?” he says. “Say the word and I’m yours. I always have been.”

He bites one nipple through the wet fabric.

“Tell me what you want, tiger, and I’ll fucking do it.”

“I want the same thing as always,” I say.

I’m molten and electric and I’ve had a couple glasses of champagne.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“You,” I whisper. “
Now
.”

He pushes me backward onto the bed and then he’s on top of me. We’ve done this a thousand times by now, but I’m
still
as desperate for him as I was that day in the car.

“What if I can never get enough of you, tiger?” he murmurs into my ear. “I think I’m always going to want more.”

“I’m right here and I’m
yours
,” I murmur back. I put one hand on La Santa Muerte and for a moment, I thank her for keeping him safe.

“Say it again.”

“I’m
yours
. Forever.”

He groans and licks my neck.

“I like that,” he says.

“I like it too,” I say.

Then he pauses for a moment and lifts himself up and looks me in the eyes.

“I love you,” he suddenly says. “And I love
this
.”

“I love you,” I say back. “And I love being your fuck goddess.”

He grins.

“Good, because you’re stuck with it.”

He kisses me again.

“Always,” he whispers.

T
hanks for reading
Loaded
! I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it, and I
really
liked writing it.

Keep going to read the free
bonus
book
Shifters & Soulmates
.