“Don’t leave the house though.”
My breath grows shallow as I absorb the idea of leaving Luis’ sanctuary. I don’t like it. “Can I stay?” I ask, then add, “Just a little longer.” I don’t want him thinking I might be a problem, might become clingy.
His arm tightens around me. “You can stay as long as you want, Lena.” His voice is low and a little gruff. “Stay forever.”
I grin suddenly. My reaction, the pleasure his simple words evoke, is so unlike me that I bury my face against him. I feel shy about being happy. It seems impossible that in the course of a few days I can go from utter terror and paralyzing pain to happiness. Maybe he senses my confusion. He strokes fingers through my hair and murmurs, “I’m sorry. For what I did to you.”
“You said that already,” I whisper.
He shifts until he’s facing me. He’s so much larger that his body looms over mine. “Do you forgive me?”
I can feel an automatic ‘yes’ leaping to my lips. My usual response. Give the men what they want and it’ll hurt less. Instead, I think about it, search myself for forgiveness. There’s lust, and elation at his regard, relief that he doesn’t seem to want to kill me anymore. But I don’t know if there’s forgiveness yet. Maybe I don’t know what that emotion feels like, don’t know what I’m searching for.
“Will you beat me again?” I ask softly.
“Never.” His answer is so swift I feel stunned by it. He touches my face, running his thumb over my eyebrows, nose, lips.
“What if I betrayed you?” I have no intention of ever betraying Luis, but I need to know how bad things can get. I begin to realize that these feelings rapidly growing between us were always there, just held at bay, maybe twisted into other emotions. Now that we’re allowing them free rein, I think that things can get pretty bad if Luis ever thinks I’ve betrayed him.
“I would put a bullet in your head,” he says matter of fact. “But never torture again.”
I mull his words over. Yes, I can be satisfied with that. Cartel women can’t betray the men they're with. There has to be trust with intimacy when it comes to such families. Luis' mother betrayed the code. “As long as you give me the chance to explain before you kill me.”
“Of course,” he reassures me, pushing himself on top of me. He takes my hands, interlaces his fingers with mine and brings my hands up over my head. “Irrelevant though, Lena. We both know you won’t ever betray me.”
I tilt my head, as though considering him. As though I’m not 100 percent distracted by his cock, growing rigid between my spread legs. “How can you be sure?”
“I see everything written in those pretty eyes of yours. You’ve wanted me from the moment you stepped foot in this house, from the moment we met. From when Manuel forbade me to touch you.”
I gasp. He just confirmed what I’d always suspected.
“You were the hired help, and damn good at your job. He didn’t want me making you lose focus. Although, recently I got this feeling his attitude toward us being together changed.”
His comment is consistent with the way Manuel talked to me during our last sparring session. Perhaps he'd been subtly pushing me toward his son.
“He never said anything to me, didn’t warn me away from you.” I spread my knees, bring my legs up alongside his body and hug him to me. I rock my hips against him, grazing my pussy against his cock, nestled at the apex of my thighs.
His hands tighten on mine and I can see the fire steadily growing in his intense gaze. “Have you ever pursued a man before, Lena?” A question, but not a question. We both know the answer.
“No.”
“Of course not. Anyone looking at you knows your damaged goods. You’ll never be the aggressor.”
I frown in annoyance. “If I’m damaged goods, then why did Manuel think I could be distracted by you?”
He gives me a boyish grin, so sudden and unexpected it steals my breath. I’m held mesmerized by the way a smile can change his entire demeanour. “I’m that hard to resist, beautiful.”
“Really?” I drawl, blinking up at him, catching his eyes.
Then I twist, so fast he barely has time to register my leg twining with his until he’s flat on his back with me on top, my hand at his throat, fingers curled around his windpipe.
“Knew I shouldn’t have fed you the broth. You’re back in fighting shape.”
I grin down at him, feeling absolutely wonderful for the first time… ever. I drop my guard for a second as that thought registers. I’ve never felt this good. Never felt the hope that is like a constant, relentless tidal wave rushing through me. It began when Luis softened, started being nice to me. I don’t have time to think about it though since Luis, the biggest alpha I know, can’t let me get the better of him for long.
He uses my momentary hesitation, swiping my arm to the side, then grabbing my other wrist and jerking me down. I land face first on the bed beside him. He climbs around me, using a similar method to what I just used on him, grabs my arm and yanks me back until I’m kneeling on the bed, my back against his chest, my arm wrenched up in between us.
“You okay?” he asks, his lips against my ear sending shivers cascading down my neck. "Say the word and I'll let you go."
I take a moment to just breathe, to take stock of my body and the play we’re engaging in. I’m not hurt, not even a little. The arm he’s holding is immobile but not strained. The only part of me that’s in need is my pussy, which is dripping with anticipation, hoping this will end the way I think it will.
“I’m fucking awesome, Luis,” I tell him honestly, a grin spreading across my face.
“Good.” His breathing is harsh against the side of my head. “Because I’m about to fuck you rough. You can claw, bite, fight me, whatever you want. You tell me if you’re not okay.” I nod, and then bite my lip. He senses my hesitation. He reaches around and takes my chin in hand, tilting my head until I’m looking up at him. “Talk to me, Lena. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Please,” I say breathlessly, trying to screw up the courage. I know my face must be a beacon of red. “I don’t like anal.” It comes out in a rush and I wonder if he understood. His arms tighten around me.
“No anal,” he says reassuringly. “I can live with that. Maybe one day you’ll let me show you how good it can be.”
“Not today?” I ask guardedly.
“Not today.” His voice is low, soothing, and I believe him. Believe he has no intention of hurting me. I’m also grateful that he doesn’t dig into my violent past. Maybe one day I’ll feel capable of telling him some of the things. But not today. I cherish the way he’s looking at me, don’t want that look to change to disgust, or worse, pity.
Then I don’t have any more time to think because he’s shoving me forward, pushing my face down into the mattress. My ass is up, pressed against him, my arm still held tight against my back. I gasp as he buries fingers in my pussy, groaning at the wetness that eases his invasion. Everything scatters, my breath, my brain cells, my pulse. He’s fumbling behind me, about to enter me.
But if he wants play, then I’ll give him play. I thrust my ass back hard, surprising him, knocking him off balance. He drops my hand and I roll to the side, off the bed. I straighten, readying to sprint across the room to the door, but he wraps an arm around my belly and drags me backward onto the bed. I shriek my laughter and try to remember a few fighting skills as he pins me down, hovers over top of me. I’m about to box his ear, knock him to the side when he grabs my wrist. Before I can think to use the other arm, he scoops that one up too and pins them both above my head.
For a split second I realize his vulnerability. My knee, crooked right between his legs. One little thrust and play time is over. His eyes flash as he realizes too, reaches down to grab my knee. Gives me an opening to swing my other leg up, wrap it around his neck, twist and put him in a choke hold.
“Motherfucker!” he yells.
I’m trying to decide if he’s impressed with my figh
ting skills or if he’s genuinely pissed that I’ve gained the upper hand. Or leg. He twists underneath me forcing me on top. I smother him with my pussy, tightening my legs, determined to get him to tap, ending the fight so we can resume the sex. Instead of tapping, he reaches up and thrusts his fingers deep into my vagina. I yell my shock and loosen my hold, trying to roll away from him.
He grabs me and drags me back underneath him, face down. Now he has both of my arms behind my back. I’m completely pinned as he enters me. The sensations, oh god, they’re incredible. Every nerve ending in my body is clamoring for release. He takes me rough and hard, slamming his hips against my ass so hard the muscles in my thighs are reverberating with the impact. The breath rushes out of me as sobs of pleasure erupt.
My orgasm hits like the top being blown off a volcano. It’s fast, shocking and utterly explosive. My inner muscles squeeze him hard, milking his cock as I come. He shouts his own release, barely able to thrust into my tight passage as I grip him.
We both collapse on the bed, breathing hard. I swipe a handful of hair out of my face so I can meet his eyes. He looks stunned. I grin and run my finger through the sweat on his forehead.
“I should’ve gone for the arm bar,” I say breathlessly, still struggling to get enough air into my lungs.
“Fuck, Lena, those hurt.” He grins back at me. “You’re lethal, sweetheart. Don’t know if I should be impressed or afraid. Maybe get some more training in, up my game.”
“You do that,” I say cheekily. “Meanwhile I’m going to make sure I’m at least wearing underwear next time we do this. That was some sneaky shit you pulled there. Pretty sure vaginal interference should be some kind of penalty.”
He laughs and slaps my ass. Hard. “No more super Theresa broth for you. I damn near lost that fight.”
“If you promise our fights will always end that way then I’ll let you win sometimes.”
He leans over, onto his elbow and kisses me, using his finger to move more hair off my face. I grimace, knowing it must be sweaty. He doesn’t seem to care as he trails kisses over my face and the back of my neck. After a minute, he settles back in the bed, his arms behind his head. His eyes grow serious as he studies me, our banter set firmly aside.
“I want to discuss Manuel’s death.”
I nod, having expected that he’d want to talk eventually. I push myself into a sitting position, hugging a pillow against my chest. “You can talk to me, Luis. I’ll tell you the truth. Tell you what I think happened.”
“I know, Lena.” He studies me, his eyes steady on mine. I feel warm, welcome. I don’t feel fear. “I know you won’t lie to me.” He doesn’t mean now, in this instant, this conversation. He means forever. I think he might be right, too. I don’t need to lie to Luis. He said he won’t hurt me, so I have no reason to tell him anything but the truth.
“Arturo – ” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I told him to stay away for a few days.” His gaze grows cool, distant, as he mulls over the problem of his cousin.
I chew my lip and nod. Probably best Arturo isn’t around while Luis… while we... figure some things out. “Here’s my theory…”
15
Luis
Lena and I have our first fight as a couple. It’s two days after we talk, start laying out a plan. We’re in the kitchen eating warm tortillas with scrambled eggs and pico de gallo. It’s all I know how to cook. Lena can’t cook at all. She says cold cereal counts as cooking and I disagree. Cold cereal does not count as cooking.
But that’s not what the fight is about.
The staff are gone – a paid week off. All told to leave. No one is in the house but the two of us. Lena is naked except for a T-shirt of mine. It swamps her, but I think it makes her feel safe and I’m fine with that. It’s a stamp of ownership for me that she’s dressed in my clothes, even if it’s for my eyes only or maybe because. Maybe it’s her subtle way of submitting to me.
Right now, Lena and I are at a crossroads. She’s in the kitchen because the staff are away. She rarely leaves the bedroom and only for short periods of time when the house is empty. She’s uncomfortable with her new status as my woman and I haven’t yet clarified what her status actually is with the household staff. It’s intentional and she knows that. Until my father’s murder is resolved, no one can know she means more to me than a simple fuck.
The fight isn’t about us, but about my fear for her. She’s smart, strategic, good words, good advice. I like everything she’s saying except one thing. Her intention to be involved. When I say no, she gets fierce.
“Why Luis?" she argues, her face red with annoyance. I'm proud to see this defiant streak. It's not a characteristic she displayed, even before I locked her in the basement. "I’m trained, I’m lethal. I’m a fucking weapon. I could take out most of your men before they realized they were dead.”
That pisses me off. I get in her face, using my height and bulk to intimidate. “Don’t be so fucking arrogant. You play a game that works sometimes because you’re a beautiful woman. Yeah, it worked in the warehouse, but what if it didn’t? Then all three of us would be dead.”
The thought of her lifeless body chills me, steals my breath and freezes me for a moment. I'd come so close to losing someone I hadn't even realized meant this much.
She disagrees, standing in front of me, arms across her chest, mouth tight, stubborn set to her chin. “No. If they didn’t take me to the back room, I would’ve still opened fire. When the guy hit me and I fell, I had access to my gun and a knife. If I’d been able to cut my hands free, I would have taken the fuckers that were over you and Manuel first, then the guy that hit me would have died with my knife in his chest, then the other two.”
My stomach coils at her words. “Then why the fuck didn’t you? If you did that, Manuel would still been alive.”
Her eyes drop from mine and I see her falter. Ashamed maybe, at her course of action. “I weighed the odds. There wasn’t much time to make a plan. I thought if I separated them, we’d have a better chance of all coming through alive. Better than if I assaulted all five at once.”
Something about her words pierces me. “You sound like a machine.”
That jars her and she fires back. “I’m not a machine. But I’m highly trained, highly intelligent. Do you want me to be more coy for you? Do you just want a woman, a warm body to fuck?”
I grab her head between my hands and shove her back through the kitchen until her back slams against the island. “There’s nothing wrong with just being a woman, Lena. It’s what I want. Not a fucking death dealer.” My anger is surging, burning through me. “But a warm body to fuck? If I wanted that, I could go anywhere for it. I don’t need to help myself to my father’s leftovers, to the leftovers of dozens of men.”
I don’t really know how to be gentle, how to treat a woman. I always imagined I would be married to a suitable woman. I would make love to her like a good husband should and then go use a whore to fuck the beast out of me before returning to my wife. But Lena. She’s all I want, no other woman, and she brings out my savageness. I’m not sure I know how to love her.
Tears spark in her eyes as her hands come up to my chest and she pushes me a couple of feet back from her. “Fuck,” she says softly.
I’ve hurt her and fuck me, if it doesn’t tap at my conscience. Fucking woman getting inside me like she does. “I own you, sweetheart, but maybe you don’t get the other thing about this. I don’t want anyone else, no other woman. You’re more to me than a warm body to fuck and you know that. The idea of you getting hurt or dead rips at my insides. I don’t want you in the line of fire.”
She trembles as she regards me with her dark soulful eyes. “You’re waking me up, Luis. I need you more than you know, I can’t stand the idea of being without you. I can’t even let my brain go to that place. It’s the same for me too. I don’t want you in the line of fire, because if you die, then I may as well too. Why can’t we go down together?”
I wal
k away from her, go to the window and stare out at the estate. The gates, the guards, the dogs. Always living on the edge of death anyway. And Lena, I went from hating her to loving her, such a thin sharp line. It’s easier to hate than to face the truth sometimes. Maybe I always loved her, just didn’t want to acknowledge it. But I'm facing it now and with love comes fear and vulnerability. I can’t lose her, and I can’t let her be used against me. She says she’s a weapon, she has no idea how true those words are.
In the end though, I relent. But it’s a bitter concession because I think I’m not much better than my father.
“But you are,” Lena says. “You’re letting this be my choice. And you’re promising to care for me even if I fail.”
She’s right, but I don’t point out that failure is fatal either way. I make her promise that she will follow my lead to the letter and if I tell her to step down, she will. She agrees and she means it, but I wonder in the heat of the moment if she'll forget her promise and try to protect me. I tell her what logically makes sense. “We can’t protect each other, Lena. We have to trust that we can both look after ourselves.”
But it’s bullshit. I too think I would rather die than lose her.
I call Arturo home. He’s been in Los Cabos getting shit-faced and laid, stupid bastard – he has no idea how to protect his back. It’s time to put him in his place so we can move forward. I’ve identified the men who appear to be loyal to Arturo and the men that dislike him without reserve. It surprises me, but maybe family connections blind a man. Our men either love Arturo or hate him. There doesn’t seem to be a happy medium. Of course, I love him. Of course, Lena hates him.
But we don’t let this divide us.
I recruit two of my best men. Juan, who is loyal to me and not completely put off by Arturo. He will be the spy in our camp, the liaison so I can keep abreast of how things unfold at the estate. And Emiliano will take lead on the preparations for the assault. I need my men separate and away from Arturo’s. I need them to be ready, stay safe and not trigger happy. Emiliano is good for this job because he's a soldier, understands orders and follows them. It won’t matter if I'm hanging in chains over a vat of acid. Emiliano will not move in until I say so. I don’t want Arturo dead and I make this clear to my men. It’s important to me that we all have an opportunity for revenge.
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