I nod. “Thanks.”
“Sorry about your sister.” At the doorway, he pauses and says with not a little longing in his voice, “You got a good one. Hold her tight.”
So the king wants a queen to keep him company in bed. Interesting. I don’t give any more thought to Mendoza’s lack of romantic prospects because I’ve got other concerns to worry about. On the tray there’s a pitcher of water along with two bowls of hearty gumbo and a few cheese rolls. Regan is silent through this whole exchange, and her tears have tapered off.
Setting her on the bed, I pull the table in front of her.
“Pão de queijo.” I offer her a roll. “They’re cheese and bread. Trust me, this is one of the best things that has ever been made. Like Cristo Redentor himself must have delivered the recipe to the original settlers of Rio.”
She gives me a sad, watery smile and takes the cheese roll. Because these rolls are so damn good, even tragic Regan can’t stop her moan of pleasure. “Right?” I say, eating half of my own roll. “Crispy crust on the outside and fucking heavenly delight on the inside.” I wait until she’s swallowed down one whole roll before I hand her a glass of water. “Fighter, we are in this together. It’s not your fault that Vasily ran off with my sister. Plus, I know where he lives. Like, literally. So we’re going to eat up and then head off to Costa Rica.”
“I want to come with you,” she says, mouth halfway around another pão de queijo.
“Sure.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss. “I wouldn’t want to go back to Minneapolis and mess with payroll systems either.”
This finally gets a tiny grunt of a laugh from her. “You’re really not upset with me?”
“Christ, no.” I set down my food and stare at her in surprise. “Is that what the torrent of tears was all about? That I’d be mad because of Naomi?” She gives me a small nod. “Look, Naomi was not your responsibility. If anything, it’s on me because I got myself shot. Vasily’s not going to hurt her.” I hope not at least. My initial fear was that Naomi had gotten separated and was out wandering the streets of Rio, which would not be good. She’s not good with new places, bright lights, disorder, or crowds—which is kind of what Rio is.
“I feel terrible and thought you’d be done with me.”
Setting down the bowl of gumbo, I cup Regan’s face with one hand and push the table away with the other. “I’m not ever going to be done with you, fighter. What’d I tell you before? You’re going to have to kill me first before you can scrape me off.” I stop and then say, “It sounded a lot less creepy in my head.”
Laughing, she draws one finger along the ridge of my prominent erection. Thin linen pants do very little to hide what’s going on, particularly when I’m free balling it. “Your creepy thoughts make me feel safe.” Her voice takes on a teasing quality, and a damp spot appears close to the tip of her finger.
“I have lots more where that came from.” I tumble her down on top of me, and as I lick inside of her mouth, I know that nothing will ever taste as good as her. She trembles under my hands and moans against my mouth.
“Can you always wear skirts?” I ask, shoving up the fabric so I can find the true heaven on earth. My hand delves between her legs, and I swell even harder, bigger, thicker, when I find that she’s soaking wet and completely naked.
“It gets cold in Minnesota,” she gasps. “There’ll be times I can’t wear them.”
“Then we’re gonna have to live somewhere warmer.” Pulling my own pants down far enough to spring my cock free, I roll her over and position it at her wet, hot entrance. The first push is always so amazing, as her cunt welcomes me with a silky tight embrace.
I wish I could kiss with her less ferocity, and in the back of my mind, I wince at the marks I’m leaving. Then I grow even harder at the idea of Regan wearing signs of my possession. I hope she makes some of her own on my body. Kneading her ass cheek in one hand, I impale her completely. “I’m never leaving you,” I tell her, desire making my voice harsh. “Not for a day or an hour or a minute. I’m always going to be with you.”
She winds her arms and legs around me. “I’m always going to fight to be at your side.”
“That’s more than any man can ever ask for.” Then I’m done talking. Crushing her mouth to mine, I ravage her. I fuck her hard with my tongue and my cock, until I feel the spasms of her arousal hug me tight. My whisper-thin control breaks and my body starts pounding into hers, but the cries of Oh my God, Daniel, yes and Harder, harder tell me that she’s right there with me. I pull out at the last minute and come into the folds of her skirt that are bunched between us at her waist.
“Goddamn.” I whistle, flopping onto my back. “One of these days we gotta either get a rubber or get you on the pill.”
She rubs her cheek against my chest. “Maybe neither some day?”
I clutch her tight to me. A baby with Regan? After my sister was taken, there wasn’t life in me anymore. I had only one goal and having a family and settling down wasn’t part of my future. I wasn’t even sure I deserved a future, and now I have Regan. She’s got me by the balls, and if she wants to lead me by the dick then I’m happy to follow. Wherever. If it’s babies she wants, then hell yes. I want to have a family with her. Life’s getting better and better. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Finally I heave to my feet because we’ve got to get going. “Eat your food,” I tell her, and then I drag myself toward my bag. Inside there are clothes I can travel in. A pair of cotton pants, underwear, a button down shirt. At the bottom are a bunch of guns, ammunition, knives and a burner phone—all of which I’ll leave for Mendoza. The notification light on the flip phone blinks, and I notice there’s a message for me.
Picking up the phone, I enter the code to retrieve the message. It’s Naomi and because it’s her, there’s no greeting. Greetings are superfluous in her estimation.
Vasily has given me a ride to Russia. He says that there are places in Russia where it is white and there are very few people. I like that. Also, he wants me to do something for him, but he says that it will help people. By people, I think he means it will help him, but he also says that this can—what does he call it?—provide me recompense for the bad things I’ve done for Hudson. My balance sheet is uneven, so I’m going with him. Vasily says I have to call you or you will follow me to Russia. Don’t. I won’t like that. I do like that Vasily is quiet. He grunts most of the time, but I’m learning what they mean.