Cary

by Jessica Gadziala

  I made short work of getting the condom on, but made myself hold off, watching her as she figured out how she liked her clit to be worked.

  Her little mewling noises went straight to my balls, making me feel damn near ready to burst as I watched her drive herself up.

  “Cary?” she whimpered, eyes opening to meet mine in the mirror. “I need you,” she added, making desire kick me in the core. “Please,” she added, wiggling her ass against my erection.

  “You can have my cock,” I agreed, grabbing it so I could tease it up her pussy. “But you have to keep touching your clit for me,” I told her. “Can you do that?” I added, pressing my cock against the entrance to her pussy, but refusing to slip inside until she agreed. “Can you?”

  “Y-yes,” she agreed, wiggling her hips.

  I got to watch the surprise and pleasure mingle across her features as I slammed inside, as I took her deep, feeling her walls clench around my cock, wanting more of the feel of me.

  I didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of control then.

  I placed a hand in the center of her back, pushing her forward until she braced herself with one hand on the counter. The other stayed between her thighs like I’d told her.

  One of my hands grabbed the shoulder of her occupied hand, keeping that side of her from slamming forward as I started to fuck her.

  Deep, slow strokes, making her feel each inch of me sliding in and out of her tightness, leaving her writhing and moaning, wanting more than I was giving her—an end to the chaos building inside.

  I felt a similar need as well, making me start to fuck her. Faster, harder, making her hips slam against the side of the counter with each thrust. But she didn’t complain. She just moaned for more, begged for release.

  I could feel her pussy tightening around me, getting right to that edge.

  “Press harder on your clit, love,” I demanded as I fucked her.

  Then she did.

  And then she came.

  Taking me along with her.

  I held her against me afterward, watching in the mirror as her brows drew together as her body shook gently.

  “Aftershocks,” I told her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

  “That’s a good term,” she decided, snuggling her face into my neck as she let them run their course.

  After that, we rushed to get dressed and collect our shit, so we could make it back to the apartment.

  No one said anything, but it was pretty clear that neither of us wanted to spend another night in the hotel, even if it did have more furniture than the apartment did.

  It felt like we were beyond that, like it was time to move forward. Even if we were going to have to sit and eat and sleep all in one spot until she decided on the furniture and we could get it all delivered.

  So I called Dezi to bring over the SUV, and we loaded it up, leaving nothing behind at the hotel.

  “What? I’m just asking. If, you know, the room was going to be vacant for the night,” Dezi said, shooting me a smirk as we unloaded the SUV at the apartment.

  “Have at it,” I said, handing him the keycards I still had in my pocket.

  “Chicks like a good view,” he declared, looking over at Abs for confirmation.

  “I mean, I don’t speak for all women, but I was impressed by it.”

  “See?” Dezi asked, nodding. “Know what this street needs?” he asked, looking up and down it. “Somewhere to eat.”

  “You’re not happy unless there is somewhere to eat every fifteen feet.”

  “It’s not too much to ask. A man has needs,” he said, grabbing the last of the suitcases and hauling them up the stairs with us. “So I hear we’re having a little party at A’s house tonight,” he added, sounding pleased at the prospect. “You know, I heard that A set up camp in that place Jstorm blew up.”

  “Blew up?” Abigail asked, turning toward him with wide eyes, making it clear that while I’d given her a decent rundown of a lot of the major players in town, that she still had a long way to go.

  “Which place?” I asked. “Janie likes her bombs,” I added, shrugging at Abigail’s shock. “Usually for a good reason,” I assured her.

  “Lex Keith, I think was his name? He was into everything, legend goes. Drugs, extortion, prostitution. But the fucked up thing was he used to grab girls off the street, hold them hostage, and… well…” Dezi said, trailing off, realizing who his audience was.

  “And this Janie woman, she blew his place up?” Abigail asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good for her,” Abs said, nodding. “He died?”

  “Yeah,” Dezi said, voice odd.

  “But?” Abigail asked.

  “But the bomb didn’t do him in. Legend goes, that fucker met his end when Janie’s man—Wolf, an OG member of our club—broke open his ribcage, and ripped his heart out of his chest.”

  I guess I expected outrage.

  But Abigail was right. There were parts of her that were no longer the naive, sheltered girl who used to write to me.

  This Abigail had seen and endured a fuck of a lot of violence.

  She wasn’t outraged.

  She was pleased.

  “Sounds like a fitting end to someone like that.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding.

  I wasn’t sure I had what it took to bust someone’s ribcage open—Wolf was a mountain of a man, after all—but I hoped to get some form of bloody vengeance on the man who’d put Abigail through hell for years.

  “Weird place to set up, though, isn’t it? A place that had been bombed?” Abigail asked.

  “Yeah, but he got it on a song with all that damage,” Dezi said, shrugging. “Big piece of property. Had a lot of security features in place already. All he had to do was drop a couple hundred grand, move in, and open shop.”

  “And A… he sells drugs?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding.

  “I’m sorry, but, this town has drug dealers, outlaw bikers, loansharks, the mafia, and who knows what else. How? How do the cops not shut it all down?”

  “Most of them are in someone’s pocket,” I explained, shrugging. “They look the other way when we handle our own business. But are still the good guys for the usual shit. Break-ins, domestic violence, emergencies.

  “After all this time, even the good, clean cops have just kind of accepted that the organizations around here aren’t going anywhere. So they don’t hassle us too much unless something happens right in front of their faces. Or something goes down that they can’t ignore. Like shootings or something.”

  “Do shootings happen here often?”

  “Define often,” Dezi said, getting a stern look from me that had him holding up his hands in apology.

  “No,” I told her, shaking my head. “And I don’t remember the last time someone innocent got hurt even if there was one. Everyone pretty much tries to keep the shit on the down-low. No one wants the Feds having to come in because they realize the local cops are dirty.”

  “Last shootout on the street was A, wasn’t it?” Dezi asked, rocking on his heels.

  “Not helping,” I hissed at him.

  “Uh-oh. I pissed off Zaddy,” Dezi said, smiling at Abigail.

  “It was,” I said, looking over at Abs. “But it was between rivals. That was when they snatched Andi up. Things have been relatively calm with them since. They keep to themselves. And occasionally even offer help to us if they happen upon a situation.”

  “I don’t want to know what situation that was happened upon, do I?” Abigail asked, giving me a bemused smile.

  “Not unless you want to be an accessory after the fact,” Dezi said, nodding. “So, are we ordering food, or what?”

  Normally, I would laugh at him. But Abigail definitely still needed the extra calories.

  So we ordered pizza while we waited for the delivery guys.

  Then we set to putting together the bed.

  Well, I put the bed together.

  Abigail read me the d
irections.

  And Dezi, well, Dezi made helpful suggestions.

  Like, “You know, they make these stopper things to put between the bed and the wall. To stop the knocking. You know… from all the fucking.”

  Or, “Good you went with a wood frame. Those metal ones creak up a fucking storm when you fuck.”

  Food and fucking, that was Dezi. Sprinkle in some fighting here and there for good measure.

  Pretty soon, the bed was made, the food was eaten. And it was time.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Abigail assured me, giving me a reassuring nod.

  “I’m supposed to be the one telling you that,” I told her, pressing a hand to her lower back as we followed Dezi to the door.

  “Yeah, but you’re the one who is anxious about the meeting. I’m going to put my faith to rest in what Niro and Andi had to say about this guy. I think he is going to help us.”

  As it turned out, she would be right.

  And wrong.

  But that would come later.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Abigail

  I didn’t know what to expect from an American cartel leader’s home.

  I guess a part of me figured it would have the same sort of garish style that Raúl’s home sported.

  Which was, of course, ridiculous.

  Everyone’s style was different.

  And this A guy, well, he seemed to prefer a classic Colonial style. Lots of windows, lots of shutters, clean lines. It had classic brick on the front and a balcony overhanging the front door, held up with understated black pillars that matched the shutters.

  The grounds were impeccably maintained.

  It wasn’t quite fully spring yet, so there was no way to tell if the long, winding flowerbeds that flanked the front path would have more than the shapely little boxwoods, but even if that was it, it was nice-looking in an understated way.

  The front path itself matched the brick on the house, as did the driveway, and I couldn’t imagine the maintenance on something like that.

  “Are we going in, or just eye-fucking the place?” Niro, a handsome, rough-around-the-edges kind of guy, asked as he dropped an arm across the shoulders of a pretty, petite blonde.

  With that, Cary reached for my hand, and we all started up the driveway at once.

  We got maybe five feet onto it when dogs appeared out of nowhere. A lot of them. Like eight of them, from what I could see.

  “Oh, shit. I’m not fighting no dogs for her, man. Throw her over your shoulder and run,” Dezi declared, taking a couple of careful steps back.

  “Oh, they’re love bugs,” Andi declared as one of them showed its teeth to us.

  “Yeah, super fucking cuddly,” Dezi said. “Go kiss it,” he added, getting an eye roll out of Andi.

  “They’re protecting their home. That’s what they’re supposed to do. Hey, sweet baby. Do you remember me?” Andi asked to the dog who was still wiggling his jaws, giving us a view of his full mouth of teeth. “The last time I saw you, well, I neutered you.”

  “Yep. Great. Tell the beast you stole his balls,” Dezi said. “That’ll work.”

  “Baby, be a good boy,” Andi said, inching forward until Niro grabbed the back of her pants, holding her in place.

  “I know you think they’re all good eggs, baby, but remember the one who took a bite out of your arm last month?”

  “That was a lab,” Andi insisted.

  “It was a strange dog,” Niro shot back.

  “He’s not a strange dog. I know him.”

  “Don’t seem like he has fond memories of you, doll face,” Dezi interjected. “Not that I blame him.”

  “Quit it,” a voice called, appearing from behind the dogs. And the dog immediately tucked his teeth away. The rest of the dogs relaxed in unison as a man made his way halfway down the path. “Henchmen?” he asked, brows furrowing.

  “And me,” Andi said, smiling. “The vet,” she added to his blank look. “Andres knows me,” she insisted.

  “Aight. One second,” the man said, going back a few steps as he reached for his phone. He absentmindedly pet one of the dogs’ heads as he made his call to, I imagine, A. “Yep. Okay. He’s expecting you. Go on in. He’s in the kitchen.”

  “Do not ask for food,” Cary said under his breath to Dezi as we all moved forward.

  Andi charged in first, followed by her man, then Cary and I, and followed by Dezi.

  The inside of the house was very, well, understated. Classic, even. Lots of natural wood grains, neutral colors, and pops of art and sculpture that drew your attention, but didn’t overwhelm the space.

  Whoever this Andres was, I could use some of his design tips.

  We moved down the center hall toward the back of the house to find the kitchen.

  It was a window-filled space with white top cabinets that reached the ceilings, white countertops, and light honey wood stained lower cabinets. The appliances were oversized and pricy-looking, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was for appearances, or if this A guy cooked.

  But before I could think too much about anything else, the man himself.

  A.

  Andres Alcazar.

  He was tall and fit, wearing black slacks and a black button-up that made his tan skin pop. His face was all sharp angles. The inky black hair on his head matched the stubble on his jaw and the dark lashes framing his brown eyes.

  I didn’t know him from Adam, but a chill coursed through me as I looked at him, like something deep inside me recognized just how dangerous he could be.

  “My favorite vet,” A said, giving Andi a slight smile. “And the man who just barely deserves her,” he added, nodding at Niro. “And who else do we—“ he started, looking over at Cary, then catching sight of me. “Shit, lil’ mama, the fuck’d you do?” he asked, shaking his head.

  My stomach fell to my feet as I realized he knew who I was. It wasn’t that he was just guessing that I was the reason everyone was requesting a meeting with him. Oh, no. He recognized me.

  “Shit,” Cary hissed, immediately taking a step forward.

  A just sidestepped a bit to keep looking at me. His hand raised, motioning toward his shoulder. “Miss the long hair,” he said, shrugging. “But, hey, that’s me, yeah? I like something to hold onto. You fucks ever get involved with a chick without strings attached to her?” he asked, looking at Cary again.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I whispered to Cary, whose hand tightened on mine, a reassuring squeeze even though it felt like everything was falling down around us.

  “For what? Leaving that fuck?” A asked, shrugging. “He was going to starve you to death sooner or later,” he added, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “Or beat you to death,” he added, and there was a complete lack of inflection in his tone, so I had no idea how he felt about that idea.

  “Okay, they get it,” Andi said, drawing his attention. “You’re a big, scary guy. You can stop now.”

  “Stop being me, mama? Can’t imagine how I’d do that.”

  “Shit, hey dude,” Dezi’s voice said, drawing all of our attention to the side where he’d stepped down into the family room, and nearly stepped on a tiny little dog in a bed. “I like ones like this,” he decided, picking up the dog that was no bigger than a football, and draping it over his arm as he walked back into the kitchen. “Hey, are those tamales?” he asked, pointing toward the stove as he jiggled the dog the way you might do with a fussy newborn.

  “Dezi,” Cary snapped.

  “Sorry, Zaddy,” Dezi said, rolling his eyes. “Huh. Air is thick as fuck in here,” he declared, getting a surprised laugh out of me, one that made A look toward me again.

  “Saw you once,” A said, nodding. “Took a little trip down to that neck of the woods. Saw you walking around in this low-cut number. Had bruises all over you. Coulda cut glass with your collarbone,” he added, face twisting up at that. “Like me a woman with padding,” he finished, shrugging.

 
; “He didn’t starve me because he liked me skinny,” I snapped, surprising not only myself, but I think everyone else there. “He just wanted to hurt me.”

  “Had a neighbor once when I was a kid,” A said, waving toward his knee height. “Had this dog chained out. Day, night, blistering heat. Didn’t fucking matter. And when he got wasted, he’d take a bat to it. And the dog took it and took it and took it until one day, that chain didn’t work so good. And the fuck came out with a bat again. And got his throat torn out. Watched that shit from my bedroom window like it was the best show on TV,” he added. “Those screams sounded a fuckuva lot like justice to me, yeah?” he said.

  “So, what I’m saying here is, you being here, this is you breaking off the chain. And you,” he went on, looking at Cary. “You’re the one going to tear out Raúl’s throat.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Dezi said, moving behind Andi to look at the tamales on the stove, despite the warnings.

  “I’m just here for any information you might be able to give me,” Cary said. “I’m not asking for your help in handling it. But I’ve heard it from several sources now,” he said, nodding over toward Andi and Niro, “that you’re a man who isn’t opposed to assisting our organization.”

  “Don’t want a fucking thing to do with your organization, man,” A said, making my stomach drop once again. “That gets into who has a marker over who shit. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t have time for that. But here’s what I’m thinking. I saw some shit I didn’t like a couple years back,” he went on, looking over at me. “Shit I didn’t handle because that wasn’t the situation I was in at the time. Now? My situation has changed. I’m not helping you Henchmen fuckers. I’m helping lil’ mama over there,” he said, jerking his head toward me as he looked at Cary.

  “Okay,” Cary said, tentatively. “You’ll understand if I’m a little suspicious, though. You and Raúl—“

  “Deal drugs?” A cut him off. “Yep. And see, I’m doing a little math in my head. And I’m thinking if I subtract Raúl, I somehow end up adding his distributors to my books. And that, well, that sounds like a win-win to me, don’t you think?” he asked, smirking devilishly.