His fingers dug into my hips as he turned me over on a soft gasp and pulled me to the edge of the bed. He situated me where he wanted me on my hands and knees while he stood behind me and bent to drop a kiss on the bowed curve of my spine. One of his hands twisted in the short cap of my hair at the back of my head and the other skipped across my hip and dipped back between my legs where I was still tender and sensitized from his earlier ministrations.
It made me whisper his name and then choke on it when he suddenly thrust inside of me without any kind of preamble. In this position I could feel every inch of him ripple and flex as he moved inside of me. He felt huge, felt powerful and unhinged, as he moved behind me. That, combined with the stroking, gliding motion of his fingers, and there was no way I was going to last very long.
“Race!”
He grunted, pulled my hair a little tighter, and I really tried not to get lost in the sound of skin smacking skin and the way his heady motion was making my arms shake. I felt pleasure start to uncoil at the base of my spine, heard him swear and say my name on repeat. Just as my arms gave out because my orgasm was just that strong—just that consuming—Race grunted and then groaned and let go of his caveman hold on my hair as he folded over my collapsed form. I felt his lips brush back and forth along the back of my neck and his hands run up and down my sides as they fluttered while I tried to find my breath.
“Thanks for coming after me.”
I thought back to me begging him not to leave me when they were taking me to the hospital and told him the opposite of what he had told me, even though it meant the same thing. “Always.”
He rolled off of me and pulled me onto his chest and rubbed his chin across the top of my head.
“I thought we weren’t a good bet, but now I would go double or nothing on us any day.”
I pinched his taut skin right above his ass and told him, “How about you don’t bet on us at all because you know we’re just going to be a sure thing?”
He chuckled, which made his chest rumble under my cheek.
“I love you, Brysen. You keep me me.”
“I love you, Race, whoever you have to be and who you are.”
There was no more probably about it, and there was no doubt we were going to survive it, even if the Point was going to continually test us along the way. I was ready to give that bitch a run for her money if she thought she was going to take my man from me.
Chapter 20
Race
THIS CITY WAS WHAT the Point would be if it was clad in stripper shoes, whore-red lipstick, and then coated in glitter and sequins. The neon lights and ringing bells were annoying and alluring, and the aimless tourists, so willing to hand over their money, that flooded every sidewalk and spilled out of casino doorways made my skin crawl. To me gambling, risk taking, wagering good money, wasn’t a joke, and this place had turned what I did in back alleys and on the streets into a family activity that people were taking entirely too lightly for my peace of mind. I couldn’t wait to get back home, which surprised me. Who would’ve ever thought there would come a time in my life when I wanted to rush back to the Point?
I cut a look at Brysen, who was taking in the entire setting of the ghastly strip club we were standing outside of with a puckered mouth and a frown. I don’t know if it was the location or what we were here to do that had such a sour look stamped on her pretty face. Hell, maybe it was both. When I told her where I was going and what the plan was, I had expected her to get upset and ask me not to leave. She had surprised me by asking to come along and telling me she wanted to be the one to lay it all out on the table for my latest target. At first I had refused, but when she explained it was the last step in closing all the doors to the past, I relented. I made her promise no less than a hundred times that she wouldn’t leave me, wouldn’t hate me if things went south and I had to get physical. She just looked at me like I was stupid and told me that she was always going to be on Team Race and that I needed to get over myself. So we packed Karsen off to Bax and Dovie’s for a long weekend and hit the road.
Booker offered to keep an eye on the younger Carter, but she was still giving him puppy-dog eyes and fawning over him in a way that was going to be trouble as soon as she was old enough for him to forget that she was just a kid.
“You ready for this?”
Brysen’s baby blues flickered to me, then to the door, and she nodded stiffly. “Let’s just finish it.”
I kissed her on the center of the forehead and then put my hand on her lower back as we walked inside. It was miles away from the District. This was like the Disneyland of strip clubs and it almost made me want to laugh. It was all for show and it was obvious the dancers were here for a quick buck and a cheap thrill, not for survival like the girls in the Point.
The man we were here to see wasn’t at one of the tables by the stage or in one of the velour booths off to the side. Nope, he was sitting at the bar with his head bent over a rocks glass. He didn’t look up when Brysen sat on the bar stool next him as I hovered off to the side over his shoulder, ready to step in if she needed me.
Brysen turned in the seat and shook her head when the bartender asked her if she wanted anything. Finally the man looked up at her and I saw shoulders tense and then fall in rapid succession. “Brysen.”
“Dad.”
Brysen’s dad visibly started at the sound of her soft voice.
“I’m here to give you an out, Dad. Race brought me here to offer you one shot, one chance, and if you don’t take it . . . well, then whatever happens next is all on you.” She made a disgusted noise low in her throat and met my gaze as I watched her over the top of his head. “I’m fine, by the way, and so is Karsen. Mom will be getting out of her program soon, and I’ll be encouraging her to file for divorce just in case you were wondering what’s going on with your family.”