Kiss of the Cartel

by Slater, Nikita

  I will be the bait. And Lena will be the ghost in the room.

  Next, I call Tomás. “Arturo is coming back. We have a meeting tomorrow to discuss his role in my father’s death. I think he’s aware he is being accused so there’s no point in him being coy anymore. Word is that he will attempt an assault tonight rather than face me tomorrow. It hasn't been easy to ferret the information out, but I can be persuasive.”

  Tomás is excited. “Good, I hope that shit gets what’s coming to him.”

  I smile as I stare into Lena’s eyes. “He will. The men loyal to me will take him alive. Leave him for me, when the time is right. He doesn’t know that I know about the planned assault. He thinks it'll be a cakewalk.”

  Then Tomás says the words I’ve been waiting for. “How can I help?”

  “I might need to take you up on your generous offer to shelter me. We’re ready but things sometimes go sideways. I might need to run for my life.” I pause as I think. “And if you can spare some manpower, to lend a hand in the house, to fend off the assault, that would be appreciated.”

  Tomás doesn’t hesitate. “Of course, Luis. You’re like a son to me.” He laughs as he says it. “The difficult son, the one that needed his ass kicked more than it happened. But still… you are your father’s son and that matters to me. I’ll send my son, along with a half-dozen men over. Where do you want them – the house?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Tomás.” I exhale my relief that things are unfolding according to plan. Even though he’d already offered to help at the funeral, he might have changed his mind. Might think it too dangerous to open his home to me.

  “What about the bodyguard, you bringing her too?”

  “Lena?" Her eyes flash to mine as I say her name. I squeeze her hand and continue talking. "No, Tomás. I wouldn't use her as my bodyguard. She’ll stay and fight alongside my men.”

  As I hang up, Lena comes to me and drapes her arms around my shoulders, still tentative, still reticent, like I might reject her. I pull her into me and nuzzle her neck as I breathe her in. “I don’t like it,” I murmur against her.

  “I promise I’ll keep my head down as much as I can.”

  I look at her. “No. that's not what I meant. Obviously, I don’t like how involved you are in this setup. But I meant that I don’t like that you smell like me. It was nice for a while, but I want my woman smelling like a woman. We need to get you some pretty soaps.”

  She smiles. “I have some. Your father wanted me to smell pretty too.”

  Heat flames through me and my hand bites into her waist as she tells me this. I grab her hand, banding her fingers cruelly and drag her to her room. I’ve never been in it and I’m shocked. It’s next to the master bedroom, my father's, to continue the illusion of them as a couple. It's big, comfortable enough, but it’s completely barren. A small bed, a night table and a dresser. A bathroom attached with nothing in it. “Where is it? Where’s all the pretty shit my father gave you?”

  Lena bites her lip. She’s pale and afraid of me. If I wasn’t so pissed, I would find it amusing that she’ll fight me in play but not defend herself against me when I’m serious. If I struck her right now, I think she’d take it and forgive me. But I made a promise not to hurt her and I intend to keep it. “It’s in his room. I was to appear to be his girlfriend, so I showered and changed in his ensuite.”

  My heart is thudding in my chest. “You said you weren’t fucking.”

  She shakes her head, her words sound like a plea. “We weren’t, I promise you, Luis. He would never touch me. I was his bodyguard, nothing more, nothing less. I slept here but showered and dressed there so he could approve. So people would think we were f-fucking.”

  I run my fingers through my hair. “You will never enter that room again.” Then I stop. That room is mine now and as the master of the house, I should be in it. But the pain in my chest grows at the thought of crossing that threshold. Lena is waiting for me to finish. “When this is over, if it goes according to plan, I’ll have that room torn apart to the floorboards and redecorated. Then you and I will make it ours, together.”

  Lena gives me a ghost of a smile, relaxing a little. “I’d like that.”

  She’s so beautiful, standing in my T-shirt, bare legs and sexy feet. I want a last meal before the execution, so I pull her to me, slam her against me and kiss her mercilessly. She thinks to play as she brings her hands up to break my hold, but I grip her hair, yank her head back so her throat is exposed. “Don’t fight me, Lena. I’m not in the mood.”

  “What do you want then?” She’s confused, doesn’t really understand how to be in a relationship.

  I propel her backwards to the bed, then shove her down, my weight pinning her as I kiss her again, tongue in her mouth, assaulting her lips until neither of us can breathe. Then I do it again. Nothing gentle or subtle. No lover’s nips, no gentleness. I'm hard and needy and savage as I sit up on top of her, straddle her as I drag my shirt over my head and throw it to the floor. Then I grip the T-shirt she’s wearing and rip it open. No bra to impede me and I slide down on her, drop my head between the hollow of her breasts, inhaling her before I take a nipple in my mouth, suck it until she’s gasping, while I twist her other nipple between my fingers. I take as much as her breast into my mouth as I can, then pull up, squeezing them both, holding them.

  I forget this woman’s history, her vulnerability. I’m a caveman and I want only one thing. To own, possess, make her mine in an indelible way. I want her to know that she’s mine. I want her to understand that she must die before she submits or gives herself to another man. I pull her arms up over her head, pull the torn fabric of the shirt to her hands and knot it around her wrists. “Don’t move your arms.”

  She nods as her body trembles, her pupils dark and dilated. I can’t tell if I’m terrorizing or exciting her, but I’m beyond caring either way. I shove her legs open and bring my arms under her thighs, opening her further, exposing her to me as I drop my lips to her pussy, my tongue demanding a taste of her.

  I lap at her slit, suck at her clit until she’s moaning, until an orgasm rips through her, until she’s sensitive and crying for me to stop. But I don’t. She’s mine. She needs to know it. I bite her, marking her inner thigh as I plunder her with my fingers, slamming two into her dripping pussy while I eat her cunt, raking her clit until she’s flooding with desire, until she’s begging me for release. Until she explodes with a shriek, a moan, her ass thrusting, seeking my mouth and then trying to escape the assault.

  While she’s still coming down, I kneel over her, undoing my pants, freeing my erection. I’m hard beyond reason. I gather her thighs in my arms and pull her legs to my shoulders as I plunge into her. Brutal and savage, not letting her recover from her orgasm, slamming her with everything I have. She arches underneath me, groaning her pleasure, her breathing ragged. Her face is flushed, her eyes closed as she takes it, but it’s wanting I see on her features, not fear. And it makes me frenzied, until I can’t control myself. I flip her to her belly and force her up on her knees, then impale her from behind.

  “Oh, god. Fuck.” She’s high again and lost, clawing at the blankets with her hands, trying to get me to turn her so she can face me. She wants to come and she needs some traction for her needy clit.

  “Use your fucking fingers, Lena.” I am grunting. “Do it yourself. Come for me, sweetheart.”

  She reaches for her pussy, her fingers scrambling at her clit, stroking it, forgetting about me as she takes herself higher. And I’m fucked knowing what she’s doing, thinking about how she’s stroking herself, how she’s fucking herself. And then I come, my breath squeezing out of me, my balls cramping as they tighten. She’s keening under me, her ass slapping against my pelvis, her pussy tightening, then spasming.

  “Fuck. Oh fuck!” She says and then we’re done, spent. I fall on her, flatten her because I’m numb. She takes it, carrying me on her back.

  For a minute, maybe two, we lay there catching our breath,
savouring our passion. And then I slide to the side and we fold into each other on the narrow bed, in the empty room. Stark reality grabbing at us. I hold her tighter to me. I hope this isn’t the last time I’ll get to hold her.

  All the players are in place. Arturo, Juan, Emiliano, Tomás and his sons. An old era about to die as a new one takes root.

  16

  Lena

  I walk confidently next to Luis. I try not to watch him but keep an eye on our surroundings instead, scanning the area as we walk up the drive to Tomás’ home. Luis says he’s worried about me, but I’m terrified for him. Luis is the target. Not me, not his men, just him. We might be considered collateral damage in a war between cartels, but the fact is, if Luis falls, his regime falls.

  I breathe deep and force myself to channel the old Lena. The one who could think like a machine, act like a machine, be a machine. Turn the emotions off and react when necessary. There are two men walking in front of us, Emiliano and another. I take a few steps away from Luis, back and to the side. A better position to protect from attack if I need to. Luis frowns questioningly at me. I shake my head. We’re too close to the mansion for conversation now. He just needs to trust me.

  Luis gives me a stern look and then faces forward, striding toward Tomás, who is standing on his doorstep, a tight smile stretching his thin lips. He leans heavily on his cane, playing up an old injury. His gaze travels from Luis to the men and then settles on me. The smile falls from his face and he can't even pretend he’s remotely happy to see me. I'm not surprised. I took out five of his men in one go.

  “What is she doing here?” he demands, his cold eyes glued to me. We stop at the bottom of the steps. I stand in my black combat gear, hands loose at my side, and stare indifferently past him.

  Luis glances back at me and then faces forward again as though he barely notices my presence. If I hadn’t spent days exploring him, getting to know him and his body language, I might truly believe there was nothing between us. Luis is a better actor than I gave him credit for. Perhaps that’s why I never suspected that he had feelings toward me beyond rage.

  “I changed my mind,” Luis says coolly, pushing past his bodyguards to stand next to Tomás. “Figured I could use the extra muscle. Is there a problem with her presence here?”

  I itch to take Tomás down as his eyes crawl over me. I can feel his loathing. Not because I ever did anything to him, but because I’m supposed to be dead. Supposed to have died at Manuel’s side, along with Luis. And when that failed, he probably thought I should’ve died by Luis’ hand while he was in a blind rage, grieving the death of his father.

  “I don’t like her here, Luis,” Tomás pushes. “She’s to blame for Manuel’s death. Perhaps I overestimated you, boy. I thought you would’ve dealt with the bodyguard by now, not allow her to walk at your back.”

  We all feel the chill settle in around us as Luis draws himself up to his full height. It’s an awesome sight, the muscles rippling through his body as he flexes beneath his leather coat. I have to stop myself from staring. Hands twitch as the bodyguards absorb the tension and react.

  “I think we both know Manuel’s death was not her fault,” Luis drawls, anger pulsing through him. “She’s still useful to me. Perhaps I was blind to her skills before, but since she saved my life in that warehouse, I’m more inclined to keep her around.” He seems to shake his annoyance off and claps Tomás on the back. “And she is very nice to look at, no?”

  It takes a moment, but finally Tomás grins weakly and nods. “Indeed, she’s a lovely asset. You’re a wise man, Luis.” He waves his arm toward the open door behind him. “And, of course, you are welcome in my home. I'm pleased you chose me as your protector during this trying time.”

  I nearly snort but manage to turn it into a tiny cough. We follow the two men inside. I glance around quickly as we pass through the halls. According to our information, there’ll be two bodyguards in the house and one of Tomás’ sons, Renaldo. It was agreed that the eldest, Roberto, would join Juan in the “surprise” attack on Arturo. It’s supposed to be a sign of trust and future business relations between Luis and Tomás’ sons. The placement of Luis in Tomás’ home while his son and several of his men are entrusted to Juan. Luis and I laughed together at Tomás’ strategy and decided he probably didn’t like that son very much.

  “Have a drink with me?” Tomás says to Luis as we near his study.

  Luis inclines his head in agreement.

  Tomás glances disdainfully toward Luis' trio of bodyguards. “They can stay out here if you don’t mind. I prefer the help not dirty my private sanctuary.”

  My hackles go up, though Luis and I knew this would likely happen, had planned on it. Tomás will need to separate us. My heart feels as though it’s tearing in half as I watch Luis disappear through the door, where I can’t follow, can’t protect him. The feeling is awful, it’s crushing. I feel swamped in despair and my instincts are begging me to crash through the door and take out the man who will confront and try to kill the man I've grown to love.

  A hand touches my arm and my own hand automatically goes to the offending wrist, ready to wrench and break. Then I see it’s Emiliano. He’s watching me, watching the emotions spear through me. I’m embarrassed that I’ve allowed this lapse, but I can’t seem to stop it. I have never loved before.

  “Steady,” he says, his voice low and gruff. But also kind. He’s reminding me of my duty. He’s a good man.

  I take a quick breath and nod sharply, my tight ponytail swishing against my back. His hand falls away and I straighten, force my face into business mode and unzip my jacket until the plunge between my breasts is revealed. My clothes are made of a tough material, hard to penetrate with a knife, but slippery, making me difficult to grab as well.

  “I’m ready,” I whisper.

  He nods and steps away, falling into position. His back is against the study door, his hand on top of his gun. Our other bodyguard crosses the hall and stands opposite. Two sentinels, protecting their leader while the mistress goes off to clean house.

  “Be safe, Lena.”

  I throw him a short smile and turn on my heel, striding down the hall toward the front entrance where Tomás’ first bodyguard is stationed. He frowns fiercely as I approach.

  “Excuse me, is there a washroom I can use?” I ask breathily, channeling the inner woman that Manuel beat into me. I flutter my eyelashes just a little, soften my stance and play with the ends of my long ponytail.

  He motions toward the back of the house, but his eyes are glued to my lips. I smile flirtatiously and step toward him, edging into his space. Instead of going into combat mode, like he should, he turns more fully toward me, his eyes travelling down to my cleavage. “Can you show me?” I ask huskily.

  He grins and licks his lips before moving ahead of me. Instead of waving me into the washroom, he follows me in, as I’d hoped. I close the door, reach up seductively and distract him with one hand while I put a knife through his throat with the other. I step back as he chokes on his own blood. He thumps around a little as he struggles to breathe, but not enough to draw attention. Eventually he goes down. I follow him to the floor and finish the job so he doesn’t have to die a slow and painful death. He may be the bodyguard to an asshole, but he deserves better than a torturous death. The protection should always go quickly, if they have to go. It’s up to the bosses to fuck each other up.

  I move through the house like a shadow, swiftly and seamlessly. The next two guards don’t see me coming until it’s too late. I leave their bodies where I kill them and move on. At this point it doesn’t matter if their bodies are found. We’re nearing the end game and I’m just clearing the field for my big bad boss.

  The final bodyguard is deep in conversation with Renaldo, Tomás’ younger son. I stride into the room as if I own the place. Renaldo looks up in surprise. He frowns and then recognition flares. We’ve met on several occasions. He even tried to flirt with me once, a few years ago, before discove
ring that I belonged to Manuel.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demands. Both he and the bodyguard reach for their guns, but I have the element of surprise. I bring my two pistols up. I put one bullet through the bodyguard’s forehead and swivel around to face Renaldo, both guns trained on him before his even clears his holster.

  “Drop your weapon,” I say coolly.

  He has no choice but to do as I say. He’s shaken at the quick, merciless death of his personal bodyguard. His eyes stray to the man on the floor.

  “Why?” he demands.

  I narrow my eyes. “Don’t play pretend, Renaldo. You know exactly what papa has been up to. Now move.”

  I meet Emiliano in the hallway. He nods at my captive. “Good work.” As if there was ever a doubt. He opens the door to the study without knocking. Tomás looks up sharply from where he’s standing behind his desk. Luis is sitting on a leather sofa, leaning back, his arms across the back of the couch, one leg crossed over his knee.

  Tomás’ eyes bulge as he registers the gun I have trained on his son, and he reaches for his desk drawer.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Luis drawls. “She’s fast and has very good aim.” When Tomás’ eyes fall to the phone on his desk, Luis continues. “There's no point in calling for help. The men at your gate have been taken already. We came in far more prepared than you apparently were. I’m insulted that you thought I would be such an easy mark.”

  Tomás’ hand falls from the desk and he stares at me with loathing. Unable to help myself, I smirk back. He's trapped in a box of his own making, there’s nothing he can do now. Still he tries to plead with Luis, his gaze softening to confusion as it swings back to my lover. “Why are you doing this, son? I’ve given you my home, my protection. I even gave you my son, Roberto, as a sign on good faith.”