Page 9 of More Tricks

Cognac let out a bark of laughter. “You could say that. The bastard fucked her on the counter right in front of me.”

Dante’s eyes went wide. “Goodness, they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Seems to have been true in this situation.” Then he turned to Cognac. “Tell me, sugar, was he as good as I think he’d be in my head?”

The poor man’s jaw dropped, stunned at the question.

“Dante, leave them be. They don’t know you well enough to ask them things like that,” I cut in. “Besides, the one you should be asking is me since I’m the one who got fucked.”

Dante pouted at me. “You’re no fun. I just wanted to make sure that this beautiful bronze statue of a man didn’t play both sides.”

The warm feeling in my stomach from the brandy was squashed at his words. I pulled out of Wes’s hold and stared down the man. “Dante, let me be clear. They. Are. Mine. Have I made myself clear?”

“As crystal,” Dante answered sincerely. “My apologies, sweet girl. I didn’t mean anything by it, but it seems my joke has gone too far.”

“Dad, didn't I warn you about pushing her?” Cam admonished, coming to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “Times are different now. We are hers in every way, and none of us will take kindly to you messing around like that.”

“You’re right, son. I did push that too far,” Dante agreed, which had me far more surprised.

“Why?” I demanded. “You never give in and back off this easily.”

“Before, Weston wasn’t yours. Of course, I knew he would be one day, but during the time I was flirting shamelessly, he was unattached. Dax, my sweet girl, you are family to me, and I would never purposely do something to upset or hurt you. All the teasing was meant in jest, but as my son has pointed out, things are incredibly different now than they were when I last saw you.”

While it was hard to believe a con artist, I’d known him long enough to see the sincerity in his eyes. He was truly remorseful and that spoke volumes to me. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that either. This day has been nothing but one crisis after another, and I’m not handling anything that pushes my buttons well.”

“Regardless of that, I will do better by watching my words. You are the daughter I always wanted and the woman my son loves more than his own life.” Dante gave me a warm smile, then reached out and took my hand. “I’d hoped to offer you my help as you take down the De León Cartel, but if you don’t think that would be wise, I will be on my way in the morning, no harm no foul.”

I squeezed his hand in return. “Only an idiot would refuse your offer, Dante. I would love your help to bring these bastards down.”

“Good, good,” Dante muttered, releasing my hand and looking at the others. “My apologies to you all as well. You know what they say about in-laws and all that.”

“Don’t sweat it, man,” Cognac said, slapping Dante on the shoulder, making the man wince. “We’ve said worse stuff to each other and still managed to be family, so I think you’re in the clear. Maybe let’s leave our sex lives off the table. It’s just weird to talk about with any parent.”

That had me snapping my gaze to my Latin lover. “Or anyone else… right?” I asked, the warning clear in my tone.

“Loba, if we make it obvious like we did earlier in the pool, then we can’t avoid the subject coming up entirely,” Cognac pointed out. “You saw that already with the agents.”

“Then you just end the conversation like I did,” I reasoned. “Let them wonder what you did to get those kinds of sounds out of me. I'm sure it will be just as fulfilling for them as they rub one out.”

Cognac chuckled. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure if I found out someone was thinking about you while they jacked off, I’d remove it.”

“Then we stick with the plan not to allow any talk of our sex life,” Picasso decided. “If we hear them talking, we squash it. As the leadership of the Phantom Saints, they can just deal with it and find their own woman to think about.”

Everyone agreed, and that awkward conversation was brought to a close.

“How about we watch a movie?” I asked, feeling how tired my body was but knowing my brain wasn’t going to let me sleep.”

“First, we clean up the kitchen. Just because Eagle isn’t here to kick our asses doesn’t mean we don’t do business as usual,” Sprocket interjected. “Then we can watch a movie.”

Chapter four

Dax

At some point during the movie, I drifted off to sleep, and when I woke, I found myself curled around Picasso in a room I hadn’t seen before. There were skylights to let in tons of natural light on one half of the space where a whole art studio we set up. An easel stood with a canvas on it that had the beginnings of a painting splashed over its stark white color. Next to it was a table full of paints, brushes, and other art supplies.

Where we were sleeping was up on a loft platform, allowing there to be more room for the studio portion of the space. Picasso was still passed out on his stomach. His was turned toward me with an arm flung across my waist, so I reached out and brushed the hair out of his face, noticing it had gotten pretty long on top, the sunlight showing the hits on red in the deep brown color.

The black and gray tattoos that ran down the length of the arm over my stomach stood out against the black shirt I was wearing. Slowly, I let my finger trace the designs, taking in all the details of his artwork he had placed there. Eventually, I was gonna need him to draw me something and have Wes tattoo it on me. Picasso’s talent deserved to be forever on my body, always keeping a piece of him close. When I reached his hand, I lifted it to my mouth and kissed the back of it.

“Someone’s rather adorable for so early in the morning,” Picasso mumbled as he pulled out of my hold and used his hand to tug me against his chest. “Did you sleep well, spitfire?”