Need jacked him up. His blood boiled and pooled. His balls felt ready to explode.
“Laila.” He couldn’t say more. He was too far gone.
But she understood. “I am here. I am with you.”
And she was—with her wide eyes, red cheeks, and soft touch.
That was all he needed.
The sensations surged, creating a choke point of tingles that finally burst open and gave way to a geyser of ecstasy. He cried out, a hoarse sound of rapture that wouldn’t be denied. His semen coated her skin and drove him to a higher, gasping peak of bliss that seemed to go on forever.
Finally, the pinnacle broke and he tumbled into a heavy-limbed daze. His body felt momentarily sated, but he wasn’t satisfied. Without being inside her, the orgasm had been hollow, like applying a Band-Aid when he needed a tourniquet.
Fuck, how far gone was he for this woman?
Trees jerked away. He needed some distance between them to sort out his thoughts. Quickly, he soaped and rinsed himself, then grabbed a towel and turned back to her. “Clean up. I’ll get you a towel.”
She blinked at him, almost pleading. “But I-I ache…”
A glance down showed him her slick, swollen pussy. He almost groaned—and gave in. But he was a Dom. He had to be fair but firm. “I know, but that’s the consequences for using your safe word under false pretenses. Don’t do it again.”
“I will not, but…” Her fingers trailed across her thigh, then burrowed between her puffy folds. She began rubbing in circles.
He grabbed her wrist and stopped her. She howled out, her groan sounding pained.
At any other time, he would let Laila have pleasure. Hell, she deserved it all day, every day. By his hand, by her hand—it didn’t matter. But tonight, he had to draw the line to ensure she didn’t pull this shit again.
“No.” He batted her hands away and washed her off, sending her a stern warning glare when she tried to circumvent him. Once she was clean, he led her out of the shower, dried her off, then shoved his big T-shirt back over her body. “Get in bed. Go to sleep.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
When every part of her ached. He understood. Despite his self-induced climax, he felt it keenly and wondered if he would ever stop wanting her.
“I will not sleep,” she said in begging tones.
God, it was as if she knew how to push every single one of his buttons.
He jumped into his basketball shorts and dragged her back to the bed. “Well, honey, that makes two of us.”
It was oh-dark-hundred when his phone vibrated on his nightstand. Groaning after a sleepless night of Laila resting fitfully beside him, Trees grabbed his phone. If Zy was calling at this hour, it must be bad.
“What’s up? Talk to me.”
“We’ve got a problem, buddy. A jogger came past the office about twenty minutes ago and found a trio of bodies in the EM parking lot. All men. All mutilated. Given everything going on right now, I doubt that’s a coincidence.”
Trees agreed. “The vics anyone we knew?”
“I don’t think so. At least I’ve never seen any of these guys. We’re waiting on IDs now, but the bosses called me here as soon as the police reached out to them. They all look to be Hispanic, late twenties to mid-thirties, tatted up and rough. But it’s hard to tell actual identities when they had missing eyes or noses. It’s gruesome shit. Someone is sending us a message.”
Goddamn it. “But who? And why?”
Was it a warning from Kimber’s kidnappers? If so, why kill three unnamed men when they had the leverage of their pretty hostage? They could drive home whatever point they were trying to make without killing her. A finger here, a toe there. Trees had seen it done to speed along the ransom process.
Was it retribution for Emilo’s death by One-Mile Walker’s bullet? If so, why not go directly after him? Why hack up three unknowns?
Or was another party with a different agenda jumping into this shit show? It was conceivable that more than one faction of the Tierra Caliente cartel wanted their hands on Valeria, not just Emilo’s power-hungry father, Geraldo. Maybe someone else was throwing their hat in the ring to fill the power vacuum left after Emilo’s death. Trees didn’t have a fucking clue.
But he knew someone who might.
Trees turned to find Laila curled up into a ball, finally sleeping soundly.
“I don’t know who or why.” Zy sounded frustrated. “One-Mile is on his way here. We’re going to pull the security footage and see if we can find anything helpful. The police have swarmed the place, too. Maybe they’ll figure out something.”
But Zy sounded like he had as much hope as Trees. Cartels didn’t get to be powerful by allowing themselves to be tripped up by local law enforcement. And as good as the Lafayette PD might be, they were no match for this lawless group of drug-pushing thugs who ruled half of Mexico and beyond.