Stoic, I hold her within my arms, while on the television screen, the headlines blare, breaking news.
Lava filters through my veins, leaving blaring red before my eyes. My fingers cling to the hair at the nape of LeAnna’s neck, forcing her mouth to ascend.
Paciencia, I warn myself.
She comes up for air. “Wow, Dom . . .”
“I’m cooking dinner, amor. Get in bed for papi. Wear something pretty.”
With a hesitant nod, LeAnna struts toward the closet. I always stare at her ass, watch her leave, but not tonight. I slip into a pair of pajama pants, situate my junk, and exit the bedroom. In the kitchen, I place some of the groceries my hermano has a habit of purchasing on the counter.
There’s no rhyme or reason to what I’m cooking. I remove my cellphone from my pocket. Senses alert, I wait a few beats before logging into the police force database.
The feed I have is in the special crimes’ conference room. I focus on the whiteboard on the far wall. A DMV screenshot specifies Julio Perez as a former significant other to one of my most recent ángeles and one of the first.
Even I’m astonished by this breakthrough. Hearing the sound of bare feet in the background, I muss over the food I’ve taken out—potatoes, chicken cutlets, frozen peas. Fuck, I lack the passion for creating meals. Will LeAnna wonder how I’ve served her blackened chicken and now serve her raw, hardened hash?
Drawn to the conversations, I slip out a pair of headphones and increase the volume.
The detective growls. “Carrington, I’m telling you we have the right guy! Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
Carrington grunts. “The reporters were all over us when we pulled that idiot out of the hole he crawled in. He doesn’t have the mental capacity nor the balls to be our guy!”
“Fuckin’ right, he doesn’t,” I mutter in Spanish. The rookie detective moves out of view.
“Where are you going?” Carrington snaps.
“Grill ‘em again. He’s played—”
“Not intelligent enough. My perp is somewhere, strategizing how he—”
Milky white thighs drift into my peripheral. Straightening up, I cut the feed, remove my earphones, and slip my phone into my pocket.
The roommate is sitting on the marble slab inches away. Fancy perfume clogs my throat. A lilac silk robe glides across her slender frame. Plumped-up lips curve into a smile. “Hello, Dominic. Do I have your attention, finally?”
“Not really,” I mutter, fixated on how Carrington must remedy the current situation. A parasite infiltrated my role, stole my name!
“C’mon, don’t tell me the mouse keeps you satisfied?” Miranda slips a slender finger inside the opening of her robe, letting one of her tits free.
My mouth snares into a cruel smile, instantly mirrored by her. Yet, she has no awareness of my thoughts. With the strike of a snake, my hand launches around her throat. I press my mouth to her earlobe. “Listen to me good, puta.”
Her breathing intensifies, and she moans in my ear. “Oh, yes, all my clientele have the capacity of fish flopping out of water. Tell me, Dominic, what you’re going to do to me.”
Bicep straining, I watch the blood run from beneath the skin at her slender throat. “You want me to fucking break your pussy in half? Tear that cunt with my dick until you have to call the same doctor who stitched up these tits, sí?” I grab a perfect globe and squeeze.
“Yesss—”
Again, I constrict her throat. My other hand paws heavily at her breast, wanting to pop the solution in them and play it into a bloody pulp. The bitch can’t read the rage on my face as she grunts, grinding into me.
The photo of Perez shines across my eyelids.
Stolen identity.
Reaping the reward of my actions.
All the press is in a frenzy over the wrong mother—
My fingers are pumping into her cunt. Wet, I’ll give her that, but hollow. No suction. Not enough resistance to take the edge off the fact that the title bequeathed to me has been stolen. Perez is wearing my crown!
Unacceptable. I remove my fingers, smearing the slime of Miranda’s pussy across her lips. She licks it all up.
“Let’s take this to my—”
“No. I prefer what you call, my mouse. Do some Kegels, puta.” I shove her chest and grab a towel off the counter to wipe my hands. I notice the cookie jar. Damn. I make a mental note to go back and splice the footage on LeAnna’s nanny cam, cutting this encounter out, as I start down the hallway.
Hands clamped into fists, I enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. LeAnna is propped in bed, lace clinging to her softness. I climb into bed, grip her hips, and yank her beneath my weight. Her ripe, wet pussy calls me. Fucking my muse will ground me, calm my restless spirit.
“Mami, look at you. So motherfucking gorgeous.” Every inch of her curves melds to me, cutting the venom in my body by half. I tug the fabric, revealing more of her skin, biting and sucking at her nipple. While framing a plan in my mind to restore my rightful inheritance, I kiss a trail to her belly button.
For three years, I’ve solidified my brand.
I bite the junction at her hips, and she bucks, splaying her slit wide.
I’ve dedicated too much of myself to let another pendejo bask in the glory.
My tongue dives into LeAnna’s cunt. I groan, reminding myself to call her Aria while saying how sweet she is.
“Oh, Dominic.” Her fingers weave into my waves.
At the sound of the wrong name, the torrent of wrath descends in my chest, tenfold. In seconds, her ass is in my face. I force her neck into the bed.
Positioning my erection at the puckering of her ass, I tease the entrance I’ll never enter without time and dedication. She presses her ass against me, and I dig my fingers into her neck more. Dick throbbing, I run the crown of me along her folds then slide back up to her ass.
“Dominic!” LeAnna gasps into her pillow. She tosses her head back, wriggling away and scrambling into a position where she glares at me.
“What?” I glance at the narrowing of her eyes.
In a trembling voice, she says, “I couldn’t breathe. I was struggling this entire time! And I know I’ve shared what I absolutely refuse to do!”
Recalling how my brother slapped her ass, I snort. “When we were in my bed the other time, you didn’t have a fucking problem, Aria!”
A million stars of disappointment shine in her sparkling eyes. “It’s time for you to go.”
“Me? You’re asking me to leave.” My tone amplifies. “You let my bro—” I pause to collect myself. “You’re asking me to leave. We’re supposed to be in love, mami. What the fuck?”
LeAnna swings her legs over the side of the bed. Just as her pretty little feet touch down, I scoop an arm around her waist and pull her down—something in her shifts.
Her mannerisms are all wrong. It’s like day one with Angelica. In the instant LeAnna raises a palm to slap me, I hold her wrists above her head.
Liquid fire burns in my eyes.
“You want to fucking leave me?” The question thunders across the room. “Don’t be so fucking immature, Aria. There’s no fucking way in hell I’d ever let you leave.”
Chapter Sixty-Nine