My older brother, Fernando, thrashed against the padded leather cuffs we’d had to restrain him with, his agony pouring off him in waves. Sweat beaded his exhausted face, and his black hair was plastered to his skin. He’d fought us so hard, every tendon and vein on his body seemed to stand out with sharp relief. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl of anger as we secured him. The man who’d once been my kind, compassionate older brother—the best out of all of us, to be sure—had been reduced to an animal, crazed by his unending grief. Nina, his late wife and mother of his only child, had betrayed us all in the worse way, her attempt to extort money from the family resulting in her child’s death at the hands of a rival cartel.

It had been close to a year since we lost Jason, my bright eyed and loving nephew who’d been one of the few sources of real happiness in my life. To say he’d been adored was an understatement. From the moment I first held his tiny form in my arms and looked into his baby blue eyes, I’d lost my heart to the kid. And I wasn’t alone.

While Leo had extracted his pound of flesh from Nina before my mother tortured her to death, there was a list of people a mile long who wished Nina was still alive so they could make her suffer. Even in the fucked up criminal world I lived in, a mother getting her kid killed for money was shocking, and they all agreed that my mother’s slow dismemberment and slaughter of Nina, with me and my cousin’s physical help, was a fitting end to a ruthless bitch. Some may say we went too far, but I promise you, if your child was tortured to death, your outlook on justice would swiftly change.

While her end was fitting and swift, the destruction Nina wrought while she was alive continued to hurt us, day after day, with her evil actions. My nephew’s death changed me, hardened me in a way I knew could be dangerous if I didn’t find a way to bring some light into my life. In many ways, I’d never experienced unconditional love until I met my nephew, never really knew what it was like to love someone unconditionally like I loved him.

But no matter how tormented I was about Jason’s passing, for my brother Fernando…well, his life was living hell.

Sorrow filled me as I sank to my knees next to the bed of my older brother. He continued to fight weakly against his bonds while my mother’s personal physician, an elderly Asian man who worked miracles, sank a needle into Fernando’s arm. The doctor’s expression was tight with sadness and anger as he gave Fernando’s shoulder a soothing pat. Like most of the people that worked directly for my parents, he’d known us since birth, and like the rest of us, it hurt him to see my brother reduced to this.

My heart ached as I looked at Fernando’s gaunt cheeks, his full lips pulled into thin pale slashes as he sobbed and cursed. “Please, Dad, I’m begging you. Let me die.”

“I will not,” my father spat out. He visibly struggled to hold himself together and remain calm despite his visible tremble. “I’m tired of this shit, Fernando. You have to stop trying to hurt yourself.”

The drugs must have hit my brother’s system because he slowly began to relax. He looked over at Leo, the Cordova cartel’s torture master and one of my best friends, then slowly shook his head. “Leo, you have to let Hannah go.”

“Never,” Leo replied in a cold voice, his dark eyes menacing as he glared at Fernando. “You’re lucky as fuck you’re insane, or I’d be beating the shit out of you right now for what you said to my woman tonight. This was supposed to be a nice dinner, to introduce her to everyone, and instead we have to deal with yet another fucking suicide attempt, another drunken rage where you hurt everyone around you. Hannah didn’t deserve all that bullshit you flung at her. Enough, already.”

Fernando flinched, but continued to hold Leo’s gaze. “You brainwashed her into loving you, brainwashed her to be loyal to the cartel, and you expect me to just be okay with it? To be all right with the fact that you and my mother messed with her mind? You turned her into a fucking sheep. If she’s smart, she’ll run as far away from you as she can and never look back.”

“You know that’s not fucking true,” Leo roared. “You can’t brainwash someone into loving you. It doesn’t work. My Hannah loves me because I worship the ground she walks on, and she knows it. I give her what she needs, I take care of her in every way, and I love her more than anyone in this world. So, watch your fucking mouth, you pathetic piece of shit, and man the fuck up.”

Clearly glassy eyed with drugs, Fernando snorted, then said, “Baaaa.”

I leapt up to restrain Leo as he lunged for Fernando, my moron brother cackling in the background like a lunatic.

“Easy, my friend.”

“Enough,” my father growled as he straightened the cuffs of his dress shirt, his bald head gleaming with perspiration.

It had taken all three of us to wrestle Fernando into the restraint bed, my drunk and high brother insisting we let him kill himself so he can join his dead son in heaven.

Stupid fuck was too drunk to realize that, when he died, he was going right to hell with the rest of us.

“Hey,” I said while tapping Fernando’s cheek, forcing him to open his eyes. “You can’t keep doing this, man. You can’t keep trying to destroy yourself. Every time you do it, you tear me up inside.”

With a weary sigh, Fernando nodded slowly, his eyelids drooping again. “It hurts so much. I miss Jason every second of every day. Sometimes, I dream about him. It feels so real, so amazingly good to hold him again, to tell him how sorry I am and how much I love him. I can feel him, Ramón, feel his warmth and the softness of his hair against my chin. Then I wake up, and I’m so alone. So terribly alone…we failed him…all of us…”

With that, he mercifully went to sleep and Diego, Fernando’s twin, pushed himself up from the chair he was sitting in across the room, his long hair mussed from being pulled on while we fought to get Fernando into bed.

As he got closer, I noticed a nice bruise coloring the side of his face and wondered if I bore a similar mark. Even wasted, Fernando was a fierce fighter, and we’d had a fuck of a time getting him down without beating him to death. My back ached as I stood, moving to my dad’s side so I could rest my hand on his shoulder. He was a quiet man, patient and even kind in his own way, but he was a man of action and it devastated him that he couldn’t heal his son’s broken heart. None of us could, no matter how many shrinks he saw or what kind of drugs he was on, or not on.

“We need to get him a different nurse,” Diego said as he gently removed one black leather cuff from Fernando’s wrist. “I think he’s palming his meds again, and the bitch you have with him now thinks she’s in love with him.”

Rubbing my face, I pushed my hair back and thought again about getting it cut. Before all this tragedy happened, I wore my hair long because the ladies loved it, and I loved the ladies. After Nina’s betrayal, I couldn’t stand the thought of touching a woman and hadn’t been laid in eleven months, a record for me. The only way I’d been able to relax enough to get hard was when I had the woman tied down and a bodyguard watching me—literally watching me—fuck her. The tying down part was completely normal. I take charge during sex; I run the show, and binding women is part of what I like to do. But I don’t share my women and I sure as shit wouldn’t let a bodyguard watch me fuck, but times had changed.

I had changed, and not for the better.

With Fernando basically losing his mind with grief, I had to step up in my role in the Cordova cartel, taking on some of my brother’s duties, even though I kept my main role as an assassin. As far as the public was concerned, I was the heir apparent. Everyone knew I was being groomed to someday take over my father’s role as President of the Cordova Group, a multi-national conglomeration of pretty much every profession under the sun, all encompassed in one corporation. The legitimate money we made wasn’t anything to be sneezed at, but our real income came from drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. Not just ones that get you high, but also drugs that the FDA has yet to approve, or ones that’ll never be approved but nonetheless have a huge market.

Real medical miracle treatments that could save lives…for the right price, of course.

Cracking his neck, Leo frowned at his phone then said in a preoccupied voice, “Judith said Hannah went home, but she’s not answering.”

I absently fingered one of the sore spots on my face where Fernando’s elbow had caught me. “She’s probably busy talking with Joy. What’s today…Thursday? Isn’t this around the time Joy gets home from tutoring? She usually grabs some food on the way, so they’re probably hanging out. You know how much she misses Hannah, so she’s probably talking her ear off.”

Everyone in the room stared at me, and I fought to keep my expression blank. They all knew I was slightly…possessive of the blonde, brilliant, super curvy, and mouthy as hell woman who happened to be Hannah’s roommate. And they all knew I watched Joy via the cameras hidden in the apartment she shared with Hannah and their bitch roommate, Kayla. They were also aware of the cameras I’d set up in Joy’s bedroom, cameras I’d forbidden anyone else from watching.

While I admit I violated Joy’s privacy on every level by recording her while she was in her bedroom, I didn’t analyze every minute of her day. Mainly I watched her at night, when she was either sleeping or getting ready for bed. I wasn’t spying on her, I just found a peace I’d yet to encounter anywhere else when I looked at her. Due to her lack of dating lately, I’d also gotten the occasional treat of watching her masturbate, a torturous affair for us both. Me because I’d give anything to be the one to satisfy her, and Joy because it took her forever to orgasm.

That wouldn’t be an issue with me. She flat out had the worst luck in finding a competent sexual partner. From what I’ve learned while watching her, she would always chose needy, lazy men who wanted her to do all the work and rarely reciprocated her efforts—guys who took advantage of her giving nature. They’d let her do all the work, cum, and that’d be it. Selfish fucks. Once I got her in bed, she’d finally learn that there wasn’t anything wrong with her, that the fault lay in her partner’s lack of giving a shit if she climaxed or not. That wouldn’t be the case with me. No, I’d make her orgasm over and over again until she passed out from pleasure.

I fucking loved watching her cum, and just the memory of her sultry moan as she came with her vibrator has my cock twitching.

Leo gave me a wry smile, then returned his attention to his phone. “Yeah, they’re probably watching some zombie movie and eating Chinese. What is it Joy always gets?”

“Almond chicken and fried dumplings,” I replied instantly and ignored the knowing chuckles around me.

My obsession with Joy was the worst kept secret around, but I wanted my family to stay the fuck out of it, so I pretended I didn’t know everything about her in the way only a true stalker could.

My mind turned to the suit Joy had been wearing before she left for her tutoring job, the professional armor she put on to try and minimize her mouthwatering curves, to make people look past the fact that she was built for sex. Not that it worked. In a way, she resembled a really young Dolly Parton, who was, oddly enough, one of my mother’s favorite singers. My first hint of a sexual awakening was looking at the covers of one of my mom’s country albums and staring at Dolly’s magnificent rack as I got wood. When I was fourteen, I watched The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and my dick fell in love. From that moment on, I’ve been fascinated by dimpled natural blondes with large breasts. Joy’s big tits were magnificent, and her dimples drove me crazy. While the tan and black suit she’d been wearing earlier today had been built to minimize her sex appeal, nothing could hide her perfect, exaggerated hourglass figure.

My dick started to fill, and I quickly shifted my thoughts back to the present, ignoring my base urges to possess, to own Joy.

An odd noise came from across the room, and I turned to find Leo sagging to his knees. He’d paled so much he’d turned yellow—a pallid, cheesy yellow that made my stomach sink. I’d only seen Leo go pale with emotion once, and that was when we’d found Jason. My heart raced as sour, rancid fear filled my mouth.

“Son?” my dad said as he took a step closer to Leo. “What is it?”

Leo let out a roaring scream of anger that raced up my spine like ice. “Hannah!”

 

Less than forty minutes later, even though it felt like an eternity, I was shoving my way into one of the guest rooms in my parent’s palatial mansion, cursing my mother’s need to have a house that resembled a hotel with its amount of guest rooms.

Hannah and Joy had been attacked in their apartment by a snuff porn producer named Manny Santiago, a relatively high-ranking member the Santiago cartel. Those evil motherfuckers specialized in human trafficking and sex slavery. Thanks to the power of the Dark Net, they profited from sick fucks around the world willing to pay huge sums of money to watch women fucked and killed. The Santiagos were lower than low, the scum of the earth. We’d gotten into battles and skirmishes with them in the past, but they’d never fucked with the Cordova cartel directly—that we could prove—so we couldn’t retaliate without starting a war.

Kayla—Joy and Hannah’s drug addict roommate—brought Manny and his bodyguards home with her. They’d hit on the girls and had learned of Hannah’s involvement with Leo. Unfortunately, one of Manny’s bodyguards had a brother who Leo had tortured to death for kidnapping and killing one of the escorts under the Cordova Cartel’s protection. My stomach lurched as I tried to keep my overactive imagination from running through different scenarios in which Joy had been hurt much, much worse than the beating she’d received.

Thankfully, Leo’s second-in-command, Mark, had arrived in time to rescue the girls and bring them back to my parent’s house, but they’d been badly hurt before help had arrived and my gut churned with anger at the thought of anyone harming Joy.

When I burst into the room, I fought back a growl at the sight of my mother’s personal plastic surgeon, Dr. Gato, stitching up a gash on Joy’s temple.

“Ramón,” my mom snapped from behind me. “Control.”

The word, drilled into my head since birth by my rather fearsome mother, had me freezing in place and trying to force down the primal urge to maim, to shred and destroy everything and everyone that had hurt my girl.

Unable to keep myself from her any longer, I went to the side of Joy’s bed and sank to my knees, my chest seizing as I studied her bruised face.

She appeared incredibly pale beneath the bright light streaming from the physician’s lantern on the brass and glass table next to the bed. Even against the warm backdrop of the rose silk headboard and blankets, she appeared nearly colorless. The tan freckles on her nose and cheeks stood out against her parlor, adorable spots Joy usually hid beneath makeup. Part of the shield she used to protect herself from a harsh world driven by men greedy for a taste of her beauty. While I may be slightly enamored with her, there wasn’t a heterosexual male who saw Joy and didn’t take note on some level. I wondered if the doctor had taken liberties with Joy while he examined her, then cursed myself for being an insane dick. Dr. Gato was seventy-five years old and happily married for the past fifty years—of course Joy was safe with him. He was an honorable man who’d saved my life over and over again.

Shit, I’ve never had to deal with feelings of jealousy like this for a woman before, and it was totally screwing with me.

Mom had Joy put in the guest room next to my bedroom at my parent’s house, something I decided not to comment on at the moment. Part of me wanted to protest, to play off any feelings I had for Joy, but dried blood matted her curly, dark blonde hair and there was bruising around her throat and upper arms from where someone had manhandled her. Her full, Cupid’s bow lips parted as she began to stir, and the doctor quickly finished stitching her up.

“There,” he said in Spanish to my mother, “Mrs. Cordova, good as new. There will be very little scarring, nothing that will detract from her beauty. The accelerated healing cream will have most of the bruising gone in a few days.”

“Get your hands off her,” I growled while my mother sighed with exasperation.

The rise and fall of Joy’s chest calmed me as my mother said, “Thank you, Dr. Gato, for your time. I appreciate you coming all this way.”

She gave me a censoring look, the silver streaks in her black hair shifting as she tilted her head, but I ignored her and tried to get control of my guilt. I should have realized that no one was watching Joy, that she was vulnerable, but I’d been too caught up in Fernando’s bullshit. I briefly wondered if someone was with him as he slept off his latest episode, then decided I didn’t give a fuck.

Joy stirred again and made a sleepy, unhappy sound.

“Did you give her a painkiller?” my mother asked.

Dr. Gato nodded as he turned the bright light off, leaving the room softly illuminated by a cream porcelain lamp near the door. “Yes, just a mild one. She will sleep deeply for at least the next four hours. When she wakes she’ll be sore, but she shouldn’t suffer from any permanent damage.”

My mother’s voice came out tight with anger as she said, “Jose will see you out. Goodnight, Dr. Gato, and thank you again.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Cordova.”

After he left, I spared my mother a glance. Her soft, rounded face appeared heavy with grief and guilt as she gazed at Joy. “I’m so sorry, Ramón.”

Part of me wanted to rage at her, to yell and scream that it was all her fault that Joy had gotten hurt, but those would be the words of a cowardly child, not the man she’d raised me to be. “It’s okay. You had no way of knowing that their roommate would bring filth like Manny Santiago into their home.”

She touched her bloodstained fingertips to her forehead as her shoulders sagged further. “Poor Hannah. She’s…they hurt her.”

I liked Hannah. I had the ability to trust her because of her brainwashing, so she was fast becoming a true friend. “How is she?”

“As good as can be expected. She hasn’t woken up yet, and Leo is beside himself. I understand your desire to stay with Joy, but I will need your help dealing with the animals who did this to my girls. I can’t ask Leo to leave Hannah’s side, and I’m afraid I don’t have the strength to give those men what they deserve. Will you take care of it for me?”

“Absolutely. Are we gonna face blowback from the Santiago Cartel?”

“I hope they’re foolish enough to try and take us on. I’ve been waiting years for an excuse to go after the Santiago cartel.” She turned her anger filled eyes to Joy’s bed and tears trailed down her cheeks as her breath hitched. “It tears my heart apart to see these sweet girls hurt by that filth. I want you to make them bleed. I need you to make them hurt. Make them scream for me, Ramón.”

The suppressed fury in her voice had me turning away from a battered Joy to find my mother looking at the sleeping girl with what I can only describe as maternal affection.

Fuck.

“Mom, don’t get attached.”

“You mean like you already are?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My mother’s dark gaze sparked, and I wanted to groan, but managed to keep my face blank as she said, “Ramón, don’t lie to me. You care about her, deeply, and I can see why. She’s a good woman, strong and protective, but also very sweet. Someday, Joy will make an exceptional mother and wife. I understand your need to take things slow, to be sure, but you’re running out of time. By your age, I was married and already had Fernando and Diego. You need a wife, Ramón, someone to love. I worry about you, worry about you only feeding the darkness in your soul, not the light.”

“I’m not interested in her like that.”

The lines around my mom’s mouth deepened as she frowned, and I bit my tongue before I got myself in real trouble. If there was one thing my mother hated, it was being lied to. This was something she’d taught me over and over again when I was growing up, but I must be a slow learner ‘cause the lesson never managed to take.

The warning in her tone was clear as she toyed with the large diamond pendant adorning the hollow of her throat. “I suggest you think very carefully before you say anything else. I’m not a fool, Ramón. Don’t start treating me like one now.”

Straining to control my temper, the back of my neck prickling, I muttered, “I’d rather not discuss this.”

For a moment, I thought she was going to push it, to try to force the jumbled, dark mess of my tangled emotions to the surface, and I resented her prodding. I was at war with myself. One part of me wanted to keep Joy, to make her mine forever, and to bind her to me in every way known to both man and God. I wanted to get her pregnant, to watch her already rounded belly grow bigger as she nurtured our baby inside of her. She was going to be an excellent mother and wife.

There was the other part of me, my usually quiet conscience, that occasionally spoke up on matters of right and wrong. I’m not amoral; I just didn’t usually give a fuck. When I wanted something, I took it. But Joy was different. I cared about her, deeply, and wanted what was best for her. The ugly truth was, loving me was dangerous. Being associated with my family was clearly hazardous, and the thought of Joy’s bright, warm light being extinguished from the world drove me to madness.

But I’d almost lost her anyway, despite the constant ache in my chest that came from denying the need to touch her. Hold her. Love her.

The woman I was hopelessly obsessed with had almost been taken from my world before I’d had a chance to kiss her, to taste her, to feel the hot clasp of her body around my cock as I fucked her. I looked away from my mother and took in Joy’s still form. I felt something inside of me start to shift, a new purpose being born somewhere deep in my psyche as I gazed at her.

I had to protect her, from everyone.

Including my mother.

With a sigh, my mom began to walk away after she made sure Joy was tucked in tight. “Fine, fine. I’ll need you downstairs in twenty minutes to help Leo in any way he needs dealing with the men who did this.”

My blood heated at her words, the need for revenge trumping all other emotion. While I wasn’t as savage as my mother and Leo about torturing someone, I did have a highly-refined sense of justice, of honor, and both demanded a blood price from those who had hurt the beautiful girl who tried to save the world. Images from the surveillance video of Hannah getting beat up while Joy was dragged out of the room by her hair, her face stark with terror, sent a tremble through me, and my heart pounded with the need for action.

“Calm,” my mother urged as she gently cupped my cheek, her dark eyes filled with love and worry. “You’ll have your chance, but you’re in a sick room and there is no place for anger here. Stay with her, but make sure your thoughts, your heart, is gentle. It will sooth her to have you close.”

Rolling up the sleeves of my shirt, trying to find the self-control to let go of my anger, I nodded. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a little bit.”

With a soft sigh, my mom paused, her hand on the door and a rare flash of guilt tightening her face. “All I want is for you to be happy, my heart. That’s all I want for my boys—all I’ve ever wanted.”

Knowing it really tore her up that my brothers and I had pretty much sworn off relationships because of Nina’s betrayal, I fought the urge to try and reassure her I was fine, knowing she’d see through my lie. “I know.”

I could tell she wanted to say more, but held back, satisfying herself with a brief hug before releasing me. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

As soon as she left, my phone rang. I growled with irritation before answering it, turning my gaze back to Joy’s still form. “This had better be good news.”

Terrance, one of my enforcers, replied in a tight voice, “Got another girl beat to shit tonight. Guy matches the description of one of the Salvatore cartel’s pimps that’s been trying to lure our girls away. What do you want me to do?”

My brother Fernando used to deal with our high-end escort business, but when he’d lost his son due to his bitch wife’s treachery, he’d also lost his mind.

Now, in addition to being in charge of the nightclub branch of my parent’s empire, and in charge of head hunting for new talent and doing the occasional assassination, I also helped out some with keeping the high-end escorts that worked for us safe.

From what Terrance said, I’d failed at that as well.

With a heavy heart, I watched Joy sleep. “I have some things I have to deal with here. Have David take care of it and tell him to make a statement. How bad was our girl hurt?”

“Not too bad. The training we gave her when she signed with us kicked in, and she managed to mace the guy before he did much more than slap her around. She has some bruises, but nothing big.”

“She got kids?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Send her to our spa out in Laguna Beach for two weeks. Give her one of the bungalows and let her rest and heal up. If she has someone she wants to bring with her for support, that’s fine. Either way, make sure she has a nurse and a therapist available to her.”

“Will do.”

“Call me if you have any problems.”

After I hung up, I took in the silence of the room and the soft sigh of Joy breathing in her sleep. The reality of the situation sank in and a tremor shook my hands as I tossed my phone on the couch. My girl was hurt, and I fucking hated myself for not claiming her earlier like I’d wanted. Instead, I’d let my fear of trusting a woman almost rob me of my chance at happiness.

Looking down at her, I tried to resist the lure of touching Joy, knowing I should let her get her rest, but I couldn’t.

For months I’d watched her, studied her, observed her life with a single-minded focus that baffled even me. I’d fantasized about what it would be like to just happen to run into her on the street, wondering if she’d recognize me, if she’d find me attractive. If she’d even speak to me. Our first meeting at my Aunt’s house had not gone well, so I kind of hoped she didn’t remember the fact that I’d assumed she was an exotic dancer or a gold digging whore.

I’m ashamed to say I judged her solely on her body and looks, two things she’d been born with and couldn’t help. Unfortunately for her, in many ways I am a sexist pig, and when I see a woman built for sin, I assume she’s aware of that gift and uses it to her benefit. Beauty makes men dumb; it’s a proven fact. I knew some women who used their good looks to manipulate and scam their way through life.

Joy, however, secretly hated her appearance. I saw it when I watched her, alone in her bedroom, standing naked before her mirror and sighing with dissatisfaction as she tried to suck in her adorable round belly, or jiggled her large ass with a scowl. If only she knew how fucking beautiful she was; if only she could accept that she was literally a goddess. I’d never imagined that a body as perfect as hers, extra curves and all, existed. Those big, heavy, brown tipped breasts of hers were constant stars in my jerk-off fantasies, and I’d imagined a thousand and one ways I’d defile her tits.

My gaze had wandered to the rise of her chest, covered by clean sheets, before I forced my attention back to her swollen face.

No, she was out, as in O-U-T out and I wasn’t the kind of guy to take advantage of any woman, especially Joy.

But I had to touch her.

I moved to the side of the queen-sized bed and sat down next to Joy, the depression of the mattress making her lean into me.

Just the contact of her soft, warm hip against mine sent my blood boiling, and I fought myself, wrestled with this roaring need to hold her close and never let her go.

Instead, I allowed myself the pleasure of stroking her curly golden hair away from her sleeping face, the ringlets still holding traces of dried blood. A tremor went through me as I gently ghosted my fingers over the clean bandage covering her temple, an ugly bruise rising around it. My heart thundered in my ears while I continued to gently stroke her face, dusting over her freckles, rounding down to her pouty little lips. They weren’t large, but they were perfectly shaped and begged for a man’s kiss. As usual, she wore very little makeup. I leaned closer, running my nose along the curve of her jaw, drawing her scent in.

Fucking peaches and strawberries. She smelled like a goddamn pie, and I wanted to eat her so bad, my mouth filled with saliva at the thought of tasting her. Just one small taste, one lick, one kiss against those softly parted lips.

With a growl, I tore myself away from the bed, running my hands through my shoulder length hair and clutched it so hard my scalp stung. What the fuck was I doing? I was about to kiss her while she was passed out, after she’d been attacked, without her consent. Jesus, the sweet temptation she presented drove me insane. Sweat prickled over my skin and I swore I could still smell her. When I lifted my hand that I’d touched her with to my nose, the faint hint of strawberries and peaches lingered. My already hard dick pressed painfully against my pants and I turned around, unable to resist the lure of looking at Joy from up close.

In an almost trance-like state, I approached her again. This time, I sank to my knees beside her bed and took her small hand in my own. I began to gently stroke her exposed arm with the tips of my fingers, marveling at the light golden hair, soft as rabbit’s fur, on her forearms that only added to the silky feel of her body.

I knew from watching her, Joy slept naked. She had hair a few shades darker between her legs, the curls trimmed into a neat v with her vaginal lips waxed bare. She had such a pretty, tender little pussy. Joy stirred a bit and I stopped, freezing when she opened her eyes, confusion and sleep still filling their beautiful green depths. With a slow blink she studied me, and I stared back, unable to do anything but dumbly gape at her like a fool.

A little line formed between her brows as she frowned at me. “Who’re you?”

“A friend.”

“Friend?”

“Friend.”

Her voice came out slightly slurred as she said, “Don’t stop touching me, friend. It’s nice.”

A real smile warmed me from the inside out, and I nodded. “Go back to sleep, mi amor.”

She blinked twice, her eyelids getting heavier as I caressed her arm, marveling at the sparks that seemed to tingle across my fingertips with each stroke.

“Why did you call me your love?”

I didn’t want to admit the real reason—that I’d been watching her, learning about her, and falling in love. And I sure as shit didn’t want to admit that when I looked at her, I saw a woman with so much potential, locked behind emotional shields that had turned from something that protected her to something that inhibited her growth. Joy needed a strong man in her life, someone she could trust, someone to protect her. Someone like me. I would take the time needed to nurture her, adore her, and give her the life she always wanted and the love she’s always craved if she’d just give me a chance.

She was almost asleep when her body jolted and her eyes opened up wide. Panic flooded her face, sending an ache through my chest as everything inside of me focused on her, on the unacceptable fear darkening her jade green eyes. “Hannah!”

“Shhhh, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Her frown would have been adorable, if she hadn’t flinched in pain then touched her head. “I’m hurt.”

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

“You’re nice.” Her lips pursed and she reached out, holding my hand in hers. “You’re also very big and scary, but you seem nice. And you’re hot. You’ll protect me if I go to sleep? Won’t let them hurt me?”

Unable to resist, I raised her hand to my lips and softly kissed her knuckles, satisfaction filling me as she relaxed and the fear left her face. “I swear it. Nothing will harm you when I’m by your side.”

“I believe you.”

My heart filled with pride as she visibly calmed.

The edges of her pink lips tilted slightly and her hand began to go limp in mine. I have no idea how long I knelt next to her, just watching her sleep as she continued to hold my hand. Every once in a while, I’d try to pull away, but she’d grumble in her sleep and not settle until I began to stroke her arm again. I’ve been with women, lots of them, and I’ve never denied any of my carnal desires, but Joy stirred something in me I’ve never felt, never even imagined existed. A bone deep sensation that was an odd mixture of pleasure and satisfaction, like I had the ultimate prize in my grasp.

My phone buzzed, and I reluctantly let go of Joy’s hand, darkness filling me at the words on the screen. It was time to deal with the motherfuckers that did this to Hannah and Joy. Kayla, their third roommate, was still high out of her fucking mind on heroine and being dealt with by Leo’s men.

With the utmost care, I ghosted a kiss over Joy’s round cheek right over her dimple, then forced myself to leave her.

Justice had to be served, and I was just the man to do it.