Sexual Deception (New Adult Interracial Romance, Bad for You Series Vol #1) (8 page)

My toes curled just at those words. Anticipation surged in my veins.

“You know how many people get this tongue, Melody?”

“No.” I tried to blink away the jealousy that always filled my chest when he wasn't around me. I
had to be a fool to not recognize that he messed around with other women. Anyone with a television
could see him escorting models and beautiful actresses to events. The only thought that soothed my
envy was that I was the only woman that knew the real Miguel, the psychotic man behind the fake
smile.

“No one gets my tongue, but you.” His breath blew against my moistening folds. “No one else,
but my Melody.”

He lapped at my hungry clit. If you could even call it a lick. It was more like he savored that
sensitive bud. Inch by inch, he swept that big tongue along my folds and around my opening. But my
clit gained all of his attention. He knew how important it was for my orgasm, and he exhausted all his
efforts on that tiny little spot, putting in delicious work and yanking out ear-shattering screams from
my mouth.

In the end, I lay on the bed in this collapsed state of fatigue while orgasm after orgasm crashed
into my body and drummed through to my bones. He moved back up to my head and rested his on the
pillow next to me. Still, I came, without him even touching me anymore.

“Oh, Papi.” I trembled in my spot. “Fuck. How do you do this to me?”

Licking his wet lips, he chuckled to himself and watched me spasm some more with the after
effects. “You're lucky that you're hurt. Do you know how long that I've been thinking about ramming
my dick into that ass?”

I closed my eyes and panted. “Do it. I'm not afraid of pain.”

“No. You need to heal.”

I grinned as the last orgasm shuddered through me. “Why let me heal when you'll just break me
anyway?”

“Because breaking you is half the fun.”

More tears spilled out of my eyes as I lowered deeper into the hotel's bathtub. Water rose up to my neck. My hands lay between my thighs as I stroked myself, thinking of Miguel inside of me. I shut my eyes, not even able to deal with my reflection in the faucet's metal or the bathroom door's mirror. I couldn't look at myself.

I was sick and long gone from sanity.

Because only a mad woman would masturbate to the memory of the man who'd taken all that she loved. My body was another pawn in this game between us. It weakened me, whenever he was involved, made me do crazy things like stroke myself to the sound of his groans in my head.

My phone rang.

Before today, I would've said that it could only be Miguel, but Kane had it too.
Miguel would
go crazy if he found out.
Miguel’s outrageous jealousy made him keep Kane far away from me. Sex appeal oozed from Kane. It dripped from those layered muscles and radiated from his eyes. Before all of this craziness, Kane would've been just my type, sex enveloped in danger and muscle. Not that Kane could take my attention away from Miguel back then, but Miguel would’ve felt threatened, nonetheless.

I wiped my hand off and grabbed my phone. “Hello?”

“Hello? That's new.” Miguel's voice hummed through me.

I gritted my teeth.

“Usually, it's what do you want Miguel or stop calling me. Why hello this time?”

“Because I wasn't sure who it was.” I smiled.

Think about that answer, you sick asshole.

Silence passed on the line for several seconds before he cleared his throat and continued,

“Someone else has this number?”

“Why wouldn't he?”

“Because I bought you this phone.”

“But then you killed all of my family. I figured that we were over. Was I wrong?”

“Yes.” The word was a dark growl. “You're very much wrong.”

“Hmmm. I don't care.” I hung up, but didn't set the phone down.

It barely took him an half of a second to call back.

“Hello?” I grinned.

“Hello again?” The usual calm left Miguel's words. Usually his threatening wordplay flowed with honey. This time, each syllable dotted with rage. “This is a very dangerous game you're playing.”

“Which game?”

“The one where you involve another man.”

“I'm lonely. You told me yourself that our bodies always needed sexual release, at least daily if we could help it.”

“Come home.”

I leaned my head against the wall and slumped my shoulders forward. “That doesn't sound like any fun. You never enjoyed an easy kill.”

“I wouldn't kill you if you just returned to me.”

“But you'll hurt me?”

“Of course, I will, but then you love the way I hurt you.” Velvety smoothness lathered those words. “Don't you, Mami?”

“I don't know.”

“No?”

“No. This new guy is teaching me other ways to love. I think I'm starting to like it.”

Something cracked on the other line, but I had no idea what it was. I guessed he threw something against a wall, maybe a glass or plate.

“What's your next move, Mami?”

“I'm going to take out your bishop.”

He chuckled to himself. “Interesting. I wonder which one of my men you would think could be considered a bishop on my game board.”

“You'll see.”

Chapter 7

Fool's mate

~Kane

Maybe I was crazy for not shooting Melody in my condo. Dead body on my property or not, I didn't like the idea of having to watch my back. But then the wisest people did the oddest things, not what others thought they should. My gut and unpredictability kept me breathing each day. Until those failed me, I lived.

Plus, predictable actions are boring. How can you learn when you do what's expected?

Philosophy taught me that. When people thought of a philosopher, specific images rushed to their brains—intellectual people stroking their wise beards and sitting above everyone else as they spouted out knowledge on life.

In fact, philosophers were the craziest of all and they did things the normal set would never do.

Descartes
coined the phrase, “I think, therefore I am.” He also slept in a damn oven.
Diogenes
invented cynicism, which stated that the purpose of life was to live in virtue without the desire for wealth, power, sex, or even fame. Yet, for a large part of his life Diogenes lived in a tub in the middle of a busy marketplace and masturbated in public whenever the urge arose. Knowledge came when people did unordinary things.

At least I hoped so as I knocked on Teagan's door.

I had never been here, but always knew which two-bedroom apartment she stayed in. She lived in a gated community, those ritzy neighborhoods that thought they were secure due to the big ass wall outlining the properties and a retired cop guard at the only entrance. Things like that always cracked me up, didn't people know that if someone wanted to get in, they could, regardless of things like walls and guards.

People like me saw no limits, just opportunities to learn how to solve complex problems.

A huge parking lot rested outside of the gated community where several cameras filmed cars parking and leaving. Since this wasn't business, I acted normal, placing my car in a regular spot, and whistling as I crossed the street to the twenty-four hour convenience store near the apartments. When I figured I was out of the camera's view, I scaled the wall, climbed over, and hopped down without any exhaustion on my part. Next I moved throughout the shadows just in case the chubby security guy decided to take a break from watching movies on his iPad and patrol the area. No one walked around.

Darkness painted everybody's windows as everyone slept in their homes.

Tonight, I decided to do something I always longed for. I set out to see my son for the first time.

Melody's last words shoved me on edge. They made me question so much, but most important, they made me concerned for my future and the life that I'd led.

With all the philosophy I'd read and memorized, what had I learned? What had I given to this world? The only thing that I could think of was my son, a tiny child that had no idea who I was.

That shit stops now. I know I fucked up. I know I could have done Teagan better, but I must be
in his life.

I didn't understand what way I would do it, but I had to get Teagan to get my son and leave the city tonight. Once I confirmed they were somewhere safe, then I would finish the battle with Melody and figure out my future where Miguel was concerned.

I just have to get Teagan and Hassan somewhere safe first. That supersedes everything else.

Teagan lived on the first floor. Instead of knocking on the front door, I crept around to the back windows. One room had the light on. The other didn't, so I started with the dark one. Regardless of anything else, I understood that Teagan wouldn't let me into the house on her own. She'd blocked me with the security guards at the gate and threatened me several times in the club that if I ever came by unannounced, she'd never talk to me. And like a good little boy, I listened, hoping to one day get back in her good graces.

Yeah, Miguel is right. A woman will be the death of me. I can't think when they're involved.

Dreams of Teagan, my son, and I living together passed my head every now and then. When she first told me she was pregnant, I hadn't liked the idea of having another person in this world that my enemies could threaten me with. When she returned to the city with him and showed me his picture, it broke my heart that I'd never given all three of us a chance.

Not anymore. He should be in my life, and Teagan too.

In seconds, I popped the screen off of the bedroom window and took out my favorite tool. It was a piece of metal that boasted several different sized hooks on each side as well as a sharp stick in the middle. I used it to get into everything—locked doors, sliding windows, car trunks, and most other things. One slip of the third hook into the lower corner of the window and I was able to inch it up seconds by seconds without making a sound.

Anybody with basic burglary skills could break in here and kill them both. I've more than
fucked up. I put Teagan and Hassan at risk.

Once the window rose high enough, I climbed into a dark room.

The fragrance of baby powder hit me first. It was such a pleasant scent, something hard to forget in my years. I had fond high school memories of lifting many a cheerleaders’ skirt up and inhaling that tantalizing perfume between their legs. For some reason, most of the girls in my school sprinkled it in their panties. I loved it.

Grass crunched outside. I froze in my spot and strained to hear for anything else. Nothing came.

I waited longer and after a good two minutes of silence, I wrenched out my gun, ready to kill if anybody popped their head through the window frame.

Did Melody follow me here? If I were her, I would.

If she did, she never showed her face, which gave me a false sense of security as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Stuffed animals lay across every surface. A Mickey Mouse night light glowed in the corner of the room, right next to two unopened boxes of diapers. No clutter or disorder decorated the room. Teagan kept a clean home like she always did when I came to visit her other place years ago.

A tiny bed stood against the wall. I tip toed over there. It had to be where my son slept.

It's already well past midnight. If he isn't with Teagan, then he should be in his bed, right?

I kneeled down in front of the bed, reached my hand out, and slid my fingers along the surface.

The whole bed was flat. No one lay in it.

Disappointment sank in my core, but I shrugged it off and took my time leaving his room. No noise existed throughout the space, which told me she probably slept. Even though the light was on in the next bedroom at the end of the hall, I remembered Teagan confessed to me that she always slept with her lamp on whenever she was alone. Her unembarrassed honesty was one of the reasons why I loved her so much. She could be what I dreamed to be one day, true to herself.

Metal clicked behind me. I figured it was a gun. I got the confirmation when the cold metal met the back of my neck.

“Why are you here?” Instead of Melody's voice behind the gun, it was Teagan.

When did she get a gun?

I relaxed my shoulders. “We need to talk.”

“If you have to talk to me, then you wait until I'm working at the club again.”

That rosy perfume she'd been wearing earlier in the club drifted my way.

“I'm sorry. This is an emergency.” For the second time that night, I raised my hands because of a woman pointing a gun at me. Miguel's words rang in my head again.

“A woman will be the death of Kane.”

“Turn around,” she said, “And keep your hands up, please.”

I did as she requested. To my demise she stood in front of me completely naked. It was the sexiest thing I'd seen. A lush and nude Teagan wielding a gun with rage in her eyes. Her gaze could've killed me if I'd been thinking correctly or even focused, but I wasn't. All of my attention rested on those little breasts of hers and the mocha colored nipples that hardened right before my eyes. Even within the shadows of the dim hallway's lighting, I could make out the wide shape of those hips and the upside down triangle between her thighs that now commanded all of my attention.

“I told you to never come here,” she said.

“It's an emergency.”

“Why? And stop looking at me that way. You would think that you've never seen me naked.

Close your mouth.”

I shut it, shocked that I'd even opened it in the first place.

Why did God have to make women so damn irresistible? It was never fair for mankind. Females possessed so many lovely things to play, touch, and taste. It was close to impossible to think straight when one was naked around me.