Fighting Back

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

Dax released the California apartment door and it dropped back into the frame. A few feet in front of him, Ivy expelled a breath that made her body sag. Coming back to California might be a huge mistake. Maybe. Mauri knew everything there was to know about Dax’s past. If he ever wanted to find out who his mother was or how she ended up with Bruno, Mauri was his only hope to get that information.

Bruno couldn’t stand him, and the animosity was mutual. If Dax tried to open communication, Bruno would use the opportunity to taunt him. The information wouldn’t be trustworthy either, so what would be the point?

Ivy didn’t go further into the apartment, she just stood in the entryway. Putting down the suitcase, he curled his hands around her shoulders and squeezed. During the flight, she hadn’t said a word and he’d done his best not to talk to Brad either. Serg was on the flight as well. During the whole surreal experience, pretending to be buddies or happy in each other’s company was more than any of them could fake.

Serg used to be his number two, so he used that lingering façade of authority to question his former colleague on the other men and the state of the operation. Ivy kept her attention out of the window, her scowl fixed on the clouds outside the aircraft. He caught Serg glancing at her with either confusion or concern throughout the journey. The sentiment couldn’t reach too deep. After all, Serg had been sent to spy on them and report back to Brad. Serg’s loyalty went as deep as his master’s pockets.

Alone in his California apartment, he could put her at ease. Kissing her head, he bent his knees and traced his lips down her neck to her shoulder. Nudging the strap of her dress away with his chin, he insinuated his hand around to peel back her dress to expose one breast, which he quickly took into his palm.

The weight in his groin increased but when he tried to turn her toward the bedroom, she wouldn’t move. Was this some other marital tradition he didn’t know? He bent intending to scoop her up, but she pushed him off and walked away. Goddamn woman.

“I can get rid of that scowl if you loosen up,” he said.

Being short with her probably wasn’t fair. Her nerves were expected, but he was sick of seeing her spitting fury.

She went into the living room, so he followed. When she got into the middle of the space, she spun around, opening her arms. From that distance it was tough to tell, but he was sure her lower lashes were barricading a line of unshed tears. s**t. Crying was so unlike her that his own eyes widened, and he took a step back. How the hell did he…? Quelling his urge to retreat, he swallowed his discomfort and told himself to stay put, don’t run like a p***y, it was just a few lousy tears.

“The last time we were here… I walked away, Dax. You wanted me to walk away from you.”

He had refused the invite to the Stark mansion because he thought that coming back to the apartment would be better for her. Safe from the Starks. He hadn’t taken account of their past. This place was safe from others, but not safe from their demons.

“You want to check into a hotel?”

Tipping her chin toward the ceiling, she sighed. “Forget it.”

“No,” he said. “What do you want me to do? If you don’t want to be here, we’ll go somewhere else.”

“You don’t give a f**k?” she asked. “You really don’t think about what happened between us here?”

“I think about what happened in the bedroom,” he said.

“No, you don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Because when we had s*x in there you thought it was the last time we’d ever be intimate. You were going to turn me over to them.”

“But I didn’t, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, going to the window. “I’m sorry, I know… I know, I need to get over this.” Pulling the band out of her hair, she flicked it around her wrist in an expert move and ran her hands through her long, luxurious locks. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he asked.

Ivy was an incredible woman, the best he’d met, but she was still a woman. One that often left him at a loss about what was going on in her head.

“Okay,” she said, turning away from the window. “Just okay.” Hooking her thumbs under the straps of her dress, she pulled it down, wiggling out of her panties in the same maneuver. “Come over here and f**k me.”

If that was a power play, it worked. He didn’t care she’d refused him in the hallway, not now she stood in his living room completely naked asking for action.

Shirking out of his clothes on his walk to her, he swooped down to pick her up. She coiled her legs around his waist and welcomed his mouth.

He started to take her to the couch, she broke their kiss and patted his shoulders. “No, there,” she said, pointing at the window she’d been looking out of a moment before.

Glancing at that spot and then back at her, he arched a brow. “You want me to f**k you against the window when it’s broad daylight outside?”

“There’s a curtain over it,” she said.

The flimsy gauze wouldn’t endure the experience or conceal it either.

Still, he didn’t care. Whatever her reasoning, he’d still get his.

She squealed and arched her body into his when her back touched the cold glass separated from her flesh by only the sheer material of the curtain. The investment in heat reflecting glass and the expensive air-conditioning in the apartment had been worth it, she couldn’t get any closer unless she crawled inside his skin.

“You want to put on a show, Minx?” he asked, avoiding her mouth when she tried to kiss him again.

Now that he had her propped on the glass, he could free his hand and curled it around her chin to push her head as far back as it could go. The strained column of her throat brought heat to the weight hanging in his groin. Damn, his wife was f*****g how. Licking the length of her gullet, he kissed his way back down, boosting her weight higher. Her knees closed on his ribs, her chest level with his mouth.

Closing his lips around her n****e, he hummed his approval. The vibration brought an exhale of want from her lips. He knew that sound. Damn, he loved that sound. That wasn’t the only pleasure she had to give. The well of her moisture building on his torso between her legs proved, as always, it didn’t take much to get her going. Keeping her chin up, he kissed the dark peaks of her breasts and rubbed his face between them.

His wife’s cans could get a guy hard from twenty feet away, he’d caught glimpses of it happening. Only he was allowed this close. Possessing her was more of a turn on than the actual taste of her. This was his, she was his, and he wouldn’t let any guy threaten that again.

“Dax,” she whispered, tightening her legs, wriggling against him.

With his hands under her thighs, he backed off enough to let her body slide down the glass, straining the flimsy curtain at her back.

“You want something, Minx?”

“Only you.”

This time, she kissed him. The plunge of her tongue on his gave him the impetus to ease his hips away. With a guiding hand, he surged forward, pushing his c**k into her. Her kiss froze to release a breathy squeak, curling his lips.

Taking over the kiss, he f****d his way into her. Grabbing her hips, he tilted them to slam himself in deeper, working her c**t at the same time. Her nails, her arms, her need to cling betrayed her want. The circle of her arms around his neck got tighter, crushing her breasts into him. f**k, yeah.

When he withdrew, she eased back but the head of his c**k never left her. She pitched forward matching his fervor with her own. Ivy Harrow didn’t f**k around when it came to fulfilling herself.

The closer to o****m she got, the faster and shorter her breathing became. Her head thumped back against the window, the kiss forgotten, her lips only moved to utter words of impending bliss. f**k, she did things to him no other woman ever did before.

Driving on, he sped up, locking her pelvis on the glass, anchoring her for deeper penetration.

Pounding into the slippery passageway only open to him, he drove in, smacking the head of his d**k deep. That sweet meeting spot where their bodies dovetailed together gave his life purpose. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he did her. Every time he slid into her was a gift, one he wouldn’t give up.

Gasping his name, she cursed and began to quake around him, squeezing his d**k so tight he couldn’t move. To prevent himself from calling out, he locked his jaw while she milked the burst of his seed for every last drop, wringing him dry.

This was the first of many. He planned to continue f*****g her for the rest of the day, into the night until she’d forgotten all about what happened the last time they occupied this apartment.

With her open palms, she lifted his head from where it rested on hers to look him in the eye. “Stranger,” she said, still panting.

“What?”

She smoothed his hair away from his forehead. “I won’t let them have you. I won’t let them take you away from this, I promise.”

There he was worried about her feeling like she was losing control of their relationship. All the time, she was formulating ways to hold onto him.

“I’m going nowhere, babygirl.”

Sliding out of her body, he carried her to the couch and laid her down then stood up to examine her flushed skin. Her neck was reddened where his stubble burned her. The rest of her was still in the midst of a fever from their union.

Her hand rested on her abdomen, his eye caught on the diamond. Kneeling beside her, he picked up her hand and kissed the stone. He’d never considered marriage before Ivy. The women in his past were never around long enough for him to develop any kind of feelings. Back then, his dedication was to the Starks and that had been enough for him.

“You’re not with me,” she said, sitting up to run her fingers into his hair again. “You get that glare on your face, and I know that you’re thinking about Mauri. Are you worried about losing him?”

“I worry about what he’ll take with him,” Dax said, sticking an arm under her legs, he lifted them to sit on the couch underneath. Dropping onto his side, he laid his spine along the back of the couch and kept Ivy angled against him. “And about what will happen to the organization when he’s not around.”

“You still care about that? About the Stark name?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s instinct I guess.”

“What will happen? Brad is going to take over, right?”

“He should, least that’s what Brad’s always thought,” he said, fondling her breast.

“You don’t think he will?”

Dax shrugged and slid lower to suck her n****e into a tight pebble. “Bruno won’t just roll over; Brad won’t give him the same respect that Mauri does.”

“What about Trystan?”

“He’s already pissed,” Dax said. “After we left, he apparently went off on a crazy bender. Mauri’s had him locked up in the mansion.”

“Do you think they’ve…? Is there another woman for him? Has someone been abducted to take my place?”

“Maybe,” Dax said, having not considered that. “It’s a possibility, but…”

“But?”

“It didn’t work with you. Maybe Mauri re-thought their approach. I don’t know. I’ll find out when I go over there.”

“Which will be when?” she asked.

In time with her question, his cellphone rang.

The post-coital intimacy was shattered, and her expression cooled.

“It could be nothing,” he said.

Extricating himself from their snug position, he climbed off the couch to snag his jeans from the middle of the room.

Retrieving the phone from his pocket, he recognized the number and answered. “Hello?”

“Come over to the house,” Brad said down the phone line. “Mauri wants you to join him for dinner.”

“I’m having dinner with my wife, thanks.”

“Bring her,” Brad said. “Mauri’s invited you both.”

“No, I’m not bringing her over there. Sitting around the table as a happy family is a crock of s**t. If Mauri wants to see me, I’ll come over, just me, for a sit down with him. I think we have a lot to talk about and we don’t need you bastards listening in.”

“Okay,” Brad said.

He hadn’t gone away to check anything with Mauri. The old man wasn’t dead yet and wouldn’t like Brad speaking for him. That meant either Dax was on speakerphone and Mauri was right there, or Mauri knew Dax would tell him where to stick his dinner invitation. He’d put money on the latter, Mauri wasn’t the type to skulk.

“I’ll be over in less than an hour.”

“You’re eager,” Brad said. “For a guy who didn’t want to come at all.”

“Eager to get it over with,” Dax said. “Tell Mauri to be ready.”

Hanging up, he put his phone on the dining table, between they door and the open plan kitchen.

Ivy sat up on the couch. “You’re going over there?”

“Yeah. Mauri wants to talk.”

“I have to shower,” she said, rising from the couch to head for the bedroom.

“You’re not coming,” he said, getting between her and the living room door.

“Why did I come all this way? I won’t sit here cowering. I remember exactly what happened the last time you left me here and went over to that house.”

She expected this to play out as it had before. He’d been a d**k to her then. He’d departed the apartment secure in their relationship, in a playful mood after leaving her aroused and unsated. By the time he’d gotten back, to find her asleep in his bed, he’d been convinced she had played him just to ensure her freedom.

“Babygirl, things are different now. They’re not going to convince me you don’t love me now, are they?”

“I’m not afraid of them,” she said, her defiant eyes narrowing on his. “If they want a fight—”

“You go in there looking for a fight and you’ll create one. You need to be cool.”

“Act natural?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“After all they’ve done?” she asked. “I don’t think so.”

“If they hadn’t caught you in Vegas, this wouldn’t have happened. We wouldn’t have happened,” he said, dropping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close to kiss her.

“I know,” she exhaled onto him when he lifted his lips. “That doesn’t mean they should get away with their bullshit, does it?”

Her anger was understandable; the Starks hadn’t treated her well.

The vehemence in her tone concerned him so much he backed off. “Payback? Is that why you came? You’re gonna go on some crazy vengeance spree?”

“Why would vengeance be crazy?” she asked. “You told me it’s what Trystan thrives on.”

“Yeah, and look how that turned out for him,” Dax said, clutching her forearm when she tried to back off. “You listen to me, Mrs. Harrow, I take care of the lowlifes, okay? If there’s a score to settle that’s my damn job. You keep your sexy ass right here at home. You cook, you clean, you suck my c**k, that’s your job.”

“Don’t,” she said, twisting her arm out of his grip. “I know you like to think reminding me of that chauvinistic misogynist you played in the beach house will calm me down—”

“That’s too many big words for a simple guy like me, Minx.”

“Stop it,” she said.

This depth of anger from her hadn’t reared its head for a while, not since the last time they were there.

Grabbing her wrists, he thrust them behind her back as he rushed her against the wall. Switching both wrists into one hand, he used the other to snatch her jaw and hold her head up.

“Do you prefer the alternative?” he asked, giving her a shake when she tried to wrestle away.

Eventually she surrendered to his grip, she had no chance of physically overpowering him, they both knew it. Ideas of revenge contorted her expression. Why the f**k hadn’t he seen it before?

“Let go of me,” she growled.

“If you don’t want to play, I have no choice, I’ve got to be serious. You prefer this? You’re not going to miss my point now.”

Squeezing her jaw, Dax forced her lips to part. His goal was to prevent her clenching her jaw in response to the fury that scalded her veins. But the temptation his action presented was too much to resist. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, pushing his kiss onto her. When he withdrew, he dragged his teeth over her bottom lip.

“Get your filthy f*****g hands off me,” she mumbled.

Damn if she didn’t get his d**k hard all over again. “You’re mine to touch,” he said. “You belong to me.”

“I’m your partner, not your possession, and you are not leaving me here alone.”

“I am. If I have to lash you to the wall, I will,” he said. “I can’t trust you now. When you get it in your head you want to start something, I’m the one who has to finish it. You see my dilemma?”

“You don’t trust me,” she said, trying again to writhe free of his control.

Consuming her mouth again, he kept going until she returned his kiss with the energy of the hatred she wanted to rain down on the Starks. In his opinion, this was a far healthier way to get rid of that venom.

Pulling her away from the wall, neither broke the kiss on their spinning journey toward the dining table. Anything they came into contact with clattered to the floor, but he didn’t care about objects. He cared about the pain this woman had suffered. His woman. The pain had thrust her into a frenzy of unhealthy anger that could get her hurt if he let her release it elsewhere.

Shoving her face down onto the table, he pressed her skull with the weight of his own. Her hair covered her face and fluttered out with each huffing breath she took. One of her cheeks was squashed into the table, he kissed the other through her hair, then her temple, and kissed above her ear before he spoke, resting his forehead on her soft hair, pinning her so she couldn’t squirm away from him.

“I own you, babygirl. You’re still my goddamn prisoner, and I will punish anyone who hurts you.”

“No,” she said, trying to look at him, but his weight locked her down. “I fight my own battles.”

“I told you,” he said, tightening his grip on her wrists, her chest was crushed to the table, but he kept her arms there too, opposite the way she faced. Forcing her legs further apart with his own, he pushed a finger into her still wet center and began to work it in circles. “You’ll never have to fear enemies while you’re under my claim.”

“You haven’t claimed anything, tough guy,” she spat out, working her hips against his invading digit.

When he snagged her earlobe in his teeth, she whimpered out her arousal and consent.

“I claim this body. Your mind and your fire are mine too,” he whispered, then slammed his d**k into her again.

This time, she screamed through her gritted teeth and the primal roar made him smile. This would release her frustration. If she wanted him to plan an attack on those who wronged her, he’d do that for her too.