tense and taut with exertion as he slammed into me over and over. Rough and raw, he gritted out, “Again.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
His low groan made goosebumps spread across my skin. He continued driving into me as he came.
Once he was done, he gave me his weight, burying his head in the side of my neck as we caught our breath.
When he tried to lift away, I wrapped my limbs around him, whispering, “Just another minute, please.”
“As long as you want,” he whispered back, his lips teasing my neck. “Forever.”
Surrounded by him, my meandering thoughts bounced all over.
Maybe I should’ve been disturbed by the fact he’d watched me.
Maybe I should’ve been horrified he’d killed the Sullivans’ goon.
Maybe I should’ve been scared by his possessive declarations.
And maybe it was a sign of how fucked up and dysfunctional I was that none of it bothered me.
Not at all.
In fact, I liked it.
I didn’t need a charming prince at my side. I needed a villain at my back. I needed someone who would love me with obsessive reassurance. Someone who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty because I knew firsthand that the world was far from a fairy tale.
I needed Maximo.
My silence must’ve stretched too long for my villain because he lifted to look down at me. His brow was furrowed and his muscles tight, as though he were bracing for me to take it all back. “We good?”
Smiling, I ran my fingertips across his stubbled cheeks. “Perfect.”
Relief flowed unfettered before he took my mouth in a bruising kiss. When he pulled away, he stroked my hair back, studying me—including the bags under my eyes. “You need rest.”
He rolled to the side and tried to gather me to him, but I kept the momentum going, shoving him onto his back before straddling him with my ass on his abs.
His eyebrow quirked and an amused smile pulled at his lips.
I inhaled deeply. My shoulders were light, my chest was loose, and I could breathe easily.
Maximo gave me that.
So I wanted to give him something in return.
More of me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A Deal’s A Deal
Juliet
“MY MOTHER WAS a dancer at a strip club in Buffalo.”
Maximo’s eyes flared at my sudden admission, but he didn’t speak.
“My dad met her when he went to celebrate a win. After a weekend together, he convinced her to move in with him. Used his charm and big talk, and she bought into it. She probably thought the next Ali or Holyfield was rescuing her from the trailer park. Instead, she ended up pregnant by a man who had problems with rage, gambling, alcohol, and fidelity.”
She thought she was getting a prince but ended up with the villain. At least I’ve always known who I’m with.
“Nine months later, I was born on Valentine’s Day. And in the most obvious omen to how their love affair would end, my mother named me Juliet because she thought Romeo and Juliet was romantic.” I shrugged. “I don’t think she ever read the book.”
“Still a beautiful name,” he said. “What happened to her?”
“She took off three months after I was born. Having a baby didn’t soften Shamus. It didn’t slow him down. He was still out drinking and fighting and fucking while my mother was stuck in a tiny apartment with no money, friends, or family other than a crying newborn. Claiming she had to get groceries, she left me with a neighbor and never came back.”
“You sure she left on her own?”
I knew what he was asking. Before I was old enough to know better, I’d built up a fantasy that Shamus had forced her away and she was searching for me. Or that he or someone he owed had killed her. It was a gruesome thought for a kid to have, but it was better than my mother abandoning me.
“I’m sure,” I said. “I found her online when I was twelve and made the mistake of reaching out.”
“That bad?”
“Worse. She didn’t ask how I was. She didn’t ask if I was safe even though she knew damn well how Shamus was. She just fed me excuses about how she was too young to be stuck at home with a screaming kid. Then she told me not to contact her again because she had a new boyfriend and she’d lied about her age and didn’t want him to know. And then she blocked me.”
His palms glided up my sides. “Christ, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I looked her up a couple years later because I hoped time