Rook

We reached the ranch at sunset, which colored the sky over the desert orange, yellow and blackish purple. I'd love to stay outside and watch the sun go down all the way with Ines in my arms, or ignore it altogether, while I fuck her so hard we both forget our names. But I have to thank the brothers first for making it possible for us to see the sun set today.

"You go on upstairs and find a bed for us," I tell her as we enter the house.

I can hear the brothers talking in the living room to our left, but the hall is quiet and shady, which is very welcome after the long walk up the hill we just completed. We left the car in the valley and came up here on foot to avoid anyone finding us, as per the plan. Her smell is filling the room, mixing with my own and driving me all sorts of crazy.

But I don't hear as many voices as I'd like to coming from the living room, and I'm afraid I'm about to learn the high price of our freedom.

"OK, don't be long," she whispers into my ear, then kisses my cheek and starts walking up the creaking wooden staircase. I wait until she's on the first floor landing before entering the living room.

They all shut up and look at me as I walk in. Cross is standing by the window, Ice is reclining on the dust-covered sofa that's seen better days, and Tank is leaning against the far wall. The ten others in the room are scattered around, sitting on wooden chairs, leaning on tables or the walls. We came here with fifty. This room is too empty.

"Tell me," I say and look at Cross. He knows exactly what I mean, his dark look leaves no doubt about it.

"It went fine, no deaths," he says. "I figured the Gentleman's men would lose the balls to fight as soon as he went down, if Ines was right and they mostly follow him out of fear. Thanks for making it quick and not wasting time explaining to him why he needs to die."

"Yeah, I didn't need him to talk, I just needed his life," I say and pick up the bottle of Tequila off the coffee table then make Ice give me some room on the sofa.

Something cracks loudly when I sit down on it, but it holds.

"Where are the others?" I ask.

"Scar already left to cross the border, and we should do the same in a couple of hours, before they have a chance to regroup and come looking for us," Cross says. "Though I doubt they'll be doing it anytime soon, if at all. I hope we sent a strong enough message that we're not to be messed with."

"I got the feeling they knew that from before," Ice says, laying his knife that he's been using to clean his nails with on the coffee table.

I turn to him, making the sofa crack again. "How come you're not fit for the ER? I thought we’d find you at death's door if not dead already."

He chuckles. "It'll take more than a bunch of cholos for that. But yeah, they did smack me around for while, after they found me when I came to get my bike. I didn't tell them jack shit though, and wouldn't have either. They had cameras in that high rise we got Ines from, and someone recognized me from my Death Match days. Then, once they had me, someone else knew I was tight with you all. After that, they were reluctant to keep hitting me. Like I said, they already knew you guys aren't to be messed with."

The brothers make varying sounds and grunts of agreement.

Ice sweeps the room with his gaze. "But thanks for getting me out again. I'm like a fucking damsel in distress lately, but this is the last time. I should've been more careful about hiding my face, but I figured I was safe over here, since they only follow those freak wrestlers of theirs. You know, those Nacho Libre motherfuckers? So, yeah, thanks."

"It's what brothers do," Cross says and I nod along, but I notice that same tight cringe on Ice's face that he wore when I called him brother. I know Cross wants him to join the MC, but I don't think Ice is ready to call anyone brother just yet. And he might never be.

Ice stands up abruptly without saying anything more and picks up his knife. "Alright, I'm ready to roll. Who's coming with me?"

About half the brothers get up.

"Not me," I say and lean back on the sofa. "I'm gonna enjoy my spoils from this battle first."

"Yeah, that's lucky for some," Tank says and peels away from the wall. "At least you got some spoils today. I'm gonna take off too, see if I can still salvage some of this night."

But he slaps my back as he passes, letting me know he'd do it all over again, even if it meant only I get to reap the rewards. And they all know I'd do the same for any of them. That's what brotherhood is all about.

* * *

Ines

I feared I'd fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I'm still wide awake when the door to the small bedroom I found empty on the first floor opens.

Rook stops in the doorway, a mountain of a man cast in shadow, but I can see him clearly. I can also clearly feel all the desire he has for me radiating off him. There's no electricity in this house so I lit a candle, and it’s illuminating his face, making his blue eyes glow yellow. For the first time since we were reunited, it feels just like it did when he came home to our tiny one room apartment in Cabo del Sol after being away for too long, even if it was just for an hour.

When Silvio died, when his body hit the pavement in that square and I felt his presence disappear from the world, a darkness lifted from my soul and just floated away. That darkness, made up of fear, pain, hate and sadness was with me for such a long time that I'd grown so used to it, I forgot it was even there. Now that it's gone, I'm alive again. It's wrong to wish death on anyone. But the world is a better place without Silvio in it.

"Come to me," I say and stand so I can welcome him with an embrace.

He wastes no time, slams the door shut with his foot and falls into my open arms, his hands all over my back and ass, his kiss deep and hungry. The animal passion I saw in him when he entered the room is growing in leaps and bounds, mating with my own for him, becoming more than the sum of its parts.

I'm on my back on the bed before I know it, his strong hands ripping off the few garments I'm still wearing as mine tug at his belt, snag on the button of his jeans painfully. But it hardly registers. My mind and my body are too full of the burning desire I have for him, for us to finally celebrate our freedom, our togetherness the way it was meant to be celebrated. In fiery passion, electric desire, in a wild and crazy ride that's already brewing in his eyes.

His lips are soft yet hard as they kiss and nip and bite at my soft flesh from my neck to my delicate thighs and back up, pain melting into pleasure that's so strong it's hurting me too.

His cock is throbbing in my palm, as hard and huge as I ever felt it.

"Take me," I whisper as his lips return to mine. "Be inside me."

It's the command he's been dying to hear, it seems. He spreads my legs wider and pushes his cock into me hard, making me gasp then loose the ability to exhale, as he fills me so completely, so perfectly I don't even need to breathe again. He can do it for the both of us, because he's all I need. His love, his passion, his desire for me, him.

I surrender myself to his powerful thrusts, let him take me the way he needs me, the way I need him to take me, let him spend all the passion he has for me on me, inside me, where he belongs. He takes me rough and hard, with all the wild passion he's been holding back these last couple of weeks. But his roughness, his wildness is life, is freedom, is his love for me stripped of all else. It is the love we share in its purest form, and I can never get enough.

I'm shrieking and screaming before long, biting my lip, digging my nails into his back to try and hold on against the force of our passion that's turning my very blood to fire, rendering all else invisible, inconsequential, non-existent. But the pleasure building inside me rises higher still, burns my blood to hot ash before long, takes my sight, my ability to make sound, to see. But that's perfectly fine. I don't need eyes to see him. He's a part of me, always with me, even when I'm alone. Even when I'm blind.

The orgasm rips through me, starting in my pussy but travelling up, until I'm nothing more than a heap of tiny particles glowing strong enough to cut through any darkness.

His coughing rouses me later. I can still feel him deep inside me even though I'm lying beside him now, enveloped in his strong, protective arms, my head resting on his chest.

"Damn, this place is dusty," he says and coughs a little more as I lift my head to see what's wrong.

"And we kicked up most of it," I say and smile at him, noticing my throat is dry from it too. It’s still settling all around us like sparkling snowflakes, glowing in the candlelight.

"Wish we could do it all over again all night," he says and I know exactly what he's thinking about.

Back in Cabo del Sol, when our love was young, we'd sometimes just stay in bed for days. Sleeping and making love, holding each other and talking. It was during those times I taught him most of the Spanish he knows, and he taught me what it meant to be loved by a man.

"Thank you," I whisper and get that bemused little smile of his in return.

"For what?" he asks.

"For waiting for me, for loving me, for saving me when everyone, including me, already left me for dead."

"For a piece of that sweet ass of yours, Ines, anytime," he says and chuckles when I give him an angry look in return. But he was never very romantic, at least not without a lot of coaxing.

"That's all you have to say?" I ask in Spanish not adding, "cabron" because I never want to insult him ever again. Though we'll probably get back to that stage too. He can be very infuriating sometimes, with his quiet, man's man ways. And I think he's about to be right now, going by that mischievous glow in his eyes.

But he takes my hand before I can slap him with it and presses it hard over his heart.

"You feel it beating?" he asks and I nod. It's strong and steady.

"My heart beats only for you Ines, always has and always will," he tells me in Spanish. It's the first phrase he asked me to teach him a long time ago, and he still knows it perfectly.

"I'm nothing without you," he adds in English. "And I'll always look for you."

"You won't have to. I'm never leaving your side again," I say.

Then I lean down and kiss him, let myself taste all of him, feel every groove of his lips, every bump on his tongue. This is the taste of freedom and love, and I don't know how I survived so long without it.

Yet, I do know.

It's because the love we share knows no time, no distance, no separation, no end. It always was and always will be. Forever and beyond.