Carrera Cartel: The Collection

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Carrera Cartel: The Collection Page 12

by Kenborn, Cora


  I couldn’t explain. The less she knew, the safer she’d be. “It’s more complicated than that, or you’d be dead too.”

  Silence raged between us. Neither one of us moved as both of our eyes pinned to the wall in front of us. She folded one leg underneath her and sighed loudly. I wanted to relieve some of her pain, and I’d never wanted to relieve anything for anyone. It confused the hell out of me.

  I didn’t know how to console her, but instinctively, my body turned inward. “Eden, I…”

  With lightning speed, she shifted, catapulting herself into me. Something shiny glinted in her hand moments before it plunged into my left bicep with a searing burn I’d only experienced once in my life.

  “Fuck!” Throwing myself backward, I landed on the floor three feet away from her grasp. Curse words flew from her mouth as she yanked on the cuff, screaming like a woman possessed. I pulled my hand away from my injured arm, stunned to find blood dripping from my fingertips. Shifting my gaze back to Eden, my eyes landed on a three-pronged fork she held like a sword.

  The bitch fucking stabbed me. “Are you insane?” A newfound anger coursed through the same veins sympathy had just occupied.

  “Come here, Val Carrera. Come tell me how complicated it is, Mr. Drug Lord. Explain it to my face, because I’m dying to hear it straight from your lying goddamn mouth!”

  I’d had enough. She’d overstepped the line. Jerking the handle of my gun from my pants, I threw it across the room and out of her grasp. Lunging at her, I secured her free wrist in a strong hold. The stunt she pulled exerted all her stored energy, and in her weakened state, she was no match for me. Collapsing underneath me, I easily wrestled her to the bed and pinned her arms above her head. My own arm throbbed in pain, and after Consuelos’s phone call, I’d been fucked with enough for one day.

  “I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

  Her eyes went blank. “Just kill me now,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. “What the fuck are you waiting for? Aren’t you the goddamn boss?”

  “Yes, I’m the goddamn boss. You should fucking remember that. Men have died for less than the shit you just pulled.” I didn’t even know what the hell I was saying. She had me seeing red. I had no intention to hurt her, but I’d learned over the years that perception was power.

  She turned her chin toward me and blinked. “Then do it.”

  “What?” I didn’t know what I expected to come out of her mouth, but that wasn’t it.

  With her arms restrained, she used the only thing she had left—her legs—which I currently had myself wedged between. Thrashing, she dug her heels into my lower back. “Just do it, so I don’t have to feel anything anymore or pretend like you give a damn.”

  I don’t know what possessed me. Our bodies pressed together and heat radiated off her with a ferocity I couldn’t deny. The fire in her words and the desire that had my balls in a vice since I’d laid eyes on her, all drove me against her mouth. She gasped the moment I licked the seam of her lips, and I didn’t hesitate to dip my tongue inside. Still riled, Eden resisted for a few seconds, pushing her body away, and then against me.

  Shifting her cheek to the side, she gulped in a lung full of air, her chest heaving. “Get off me!”

  “Well, you might want to arrange a conference between your mouth and body, Cereza. There seems to be a miscommunication. For a woman who doesn’t want me to touch her, you’re pressing pretty close.”

  She fought against my hold on her wrists. “You disgust me!”

  I loomed over her, my pulse roaring in my ears. “You’re an insane, homicidal bitch!”

  “Oh, you’re one to talk. You murder people for a living.”

  I knew who I was, but her black-and-white assessment made me wince. A vein throbbed against my temple as I lowered my face against hers with a snarl. “You tried to stab me, what does that make you?”

  “A failed mission.”

  I should’ve walked away. The heated sparring flipped a switch in me, and after one taste, my need for her shattered. Logically, I knew if I didn’t pull away, I’d do something I couldn’t take back. But before registering the thought, I rejected it and crashed onto her lips again.

  Tightening her fist, she attempted to punch me, but the stronghold I had on her prevented any movement. I had no forethought and no game plan. A riotous mix of lust and hate converged inside of me, pouring both into a kiss that took both of us by surprise. With a breathy gasp, she stopped struggling and moaned into it. Her body melted into mine, our tongues tangling at a furious pace.

  “I should hate you,” she whispered between frantic kisses.

  “I know.”

  Bowing her back, she pushed her chest into mine, dropping her chin back and offering her neck. Wordlessly, I accept the invitation, diving in and sucking her skin between my teeth.

  “I want to hate you.”

  Groaning, I released her neck and followed a path down her collarbone. “Then hate me, but God, let me have what I’ve craved for months.”

  At those words, something shattered inside Eden. Reservation died and both legs snaked around my waist, crossing at the ankles, and urging me closer. A long-drawn-out sigh ghosted from her chest on a whimper.

  It was that whimper, breathless and sultry with a hint of remaining fear, that broke the hold on my resolve. Lifting my mouth from her chest, I took in the flush painting her cheeks and the want in her eyes. Her lips struggled to form words that never came.

  They didn’t have to. Only one made it past a whisper. “Val…”

  The sound was my name. The meaning was fuck me.

  Reaching a hand in my pocket, I pulled out a small metal key. Holding her cuffed hand steady, I turned the key, springing the lock free. Before she could react, I grabbed her free hand and crossed it over the other one, snapping the lock in place over both.

  Glancing above her head, her eyebrows lifted, but my body lit on fire as I stared hungrily at her bare skin. Fusing my mouth to hers once more, I plunged inside, needing the taste of her more than I cared to admit. With her arms bound above her head, her back arched even more and pressed her breasts into my palms.

  I wasn’t a man used to waiting for what he wanted. This moment would be no exception.

  Hooking my fingers around the bottom of her tank top, I yanked it up and over her chest, taking her bra with it. The moment her round flesh sprang free from the lacey material, my cock hardened to a level that had me wincing in pain. I’d never wanted a woman this much.

  Anticipating the taste, I flattened my tongue and raked it over the sensitive flesh of her nipple. A low gurgling groan rumbled in her chest as she jerked on the cuff restraining her. I wasn’t particularly into BDSM, I just still didn’t trust her.

  “God, Val…”

  Closing my mouth around the tip, I sucked vigorously, eliciting a wail from her tilted chin. Curses flew from her mouth as I divided equal attention to the other one. Satisfied she’d had enough, I resumed my descent.

  By the time I reached for the button on her jean shorts, I couldn’t hold back. Unzipping in a frenzied pace, I yanked them down her legs, taking the pathetic scrap of lace with them, just as I’d imagined doing that first night at the cantina. Tearing off my own pants, I paused for a moment of clarity to grab a condom out of the pocket. Seconds later, I leaned over her and plunged two fingers deep inside her depths.

  “Jesus, Cereza. You’re drenched for me.”

  “Val!” She screamed, yanking on the handcuffs and twisting underneath me. “Stop talking!”

  Growling, I removed my hand and lined the head of my cock at her entrance. With one last look, I closed my eyes and drove inside without reservation. A scream tore from her throat with the force of my possession, and she tensed, her walls clenching me tightly. The pressure sent blinding waves of red swirling across my closed eyes.

  Fuck, nothing had ever felt this good.

  There was no turning back. The need to fully possess her was too strong. With a
primal groan, I plunged the rest of the way in, drawing another piercing scream from her lungs. I almost pulled back, but she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist, encouraging me.

  That was all I needed. Taking control, I drove inside her repeatedly, each thrust harder than the last. Blind lust replaced common decency as I fucked her like a wild animal. Her back slid against the metal rail of the bed, and I bit down on her shoulder as our hips collided. Our bodies moved in a chorus of furious movement that eventually pinned both of us flush against the bed frame.

  I’d never fucked this hard. I wanted to fuck her harder. I wanted to fuck her unconscious.

  “Val, God…”

  “Do you want to come, Eden? Is that what you want?” Every word I spoke was punctuated by a forceful thrust that shifted her body backward.

  She screamed as her inner walls clamped hard around me. “Yes.”

  “Then ask me, Cereza.”

  Her eyes widened, then darkened. “Fuck you.”

  A snarl plastered across my lips. “No. I’m. Fucking. You.” On the last word, I threw her right leg over my shoulder and went deeper. The angle forced her back to bend over the rail, and her head to disappear behind her.

  “Shit!” With a scream, she squeezed the life out of me as she convulsed. I held her through the aftershocks, still pounding into her as my mind went blank.

  “Queriéndote me acaba…” Wanting you will end me.

  As I exploded, my mind unscrambled, and I slowed my pumps until my body stilled. Resting inside of her, the frenzy ended and clarity returned.

  Fuck. What have we done?

  Unable to look at her, I dressed quickly, and moved off the bed, desperate to be anywhere else. She lay there naked and silent, her breathing shallow.

  Picking up the fork that led to the fuck, I shoved it in my back pocket along with my gun. Without a word, I reached for her hands and unlocked the handcuff. After what just happened, I couldn’t bring myself to recuff her.

  “I’ll have Mateo bring you something to eat later.”

  Keeping my eyes focused forward, I closed the door to the sound of the metal cuffs hitting the wood with force behind me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eden

  They sounded like fireworks popping off in the distance—rhythmic in their cadence with an echoing thunder that seemed to immediately follow each one.

  The moment I cracked an eyelid, darkness enveloped me. For a moment, irritation convinced me I’d left the television on full blast again. Groaning, I reached for the remote to quiet the intrusive sound when a jolt of lightning shot up my arm. Confusion set in as my limbs itched with stiffness.

  Then it all came rushing back in a hot haze of defeat and submission.

  The finality of what happened, and my resolve to see everyone involved, including myself, dead for causing it, flashed through my head. Tears clouded my vision, and I curled up on my prisoner’s bed, mulling it over. Night had fallen, darkening my already burning self-hatred.

  Not that the fire needed much stoking.

  I just hoped that somewhere Nash turned a blind eye to the way I’d pissed all over his name.

  Flinging myself onto my back, I counted eighteen water-stained dots on the ceiling before visions of Val’s body slamming into mine had me squirming in place.

  I knew it was wrong. Every bone in my body knew it was wrong, but my mouth refused to say ‘no.’ Powerful physical attraction, coupled with admitted defeat, broke me. But what tore me up inside the most was that I wanted more than anything to hate him for it.

  Instead, I hated myself because I didn’t.

  The only time I didn’t feel like drowning was when I was with him. The correlation between the two made no sense, and I didn’t care to think about what kind of fucked up Stockholm Syndrome I’d developed long enough to figure it out.

  My father used to say that mistakes were life’s necessary evils. Without them, there’d be no way for a person to see the error of their ways and know the right path for the next time.

  Val Carrera was an evil mistake, but far from necessary. Righteousness wouldn’t be a moral dilemma again. There wouldn’t be a next time.

  Rubbing my tender wrist, I thanked small miracles that Val didn’t cuff me before he left. I had no concept of time without my phone, but I guessed it to be sometime after nine or ten. Refusing food and water had been a stupid move. All my body wanted was sleep to conserve energy after my pathetic attempt at utensil retaliation.

  My whole life had been a psychiatrist’s wet dream. At fourteen years old, I’d gotten caught with a senior behind the football field. My therapist called it “Impulsive/Undisciplined Child Therapy” and shoved antidepressants in my face. I didn’t need drugs. I was just pissed I’d found out my father had been lying to me my entire life about my mother. She hadn’t died. Three days after my birth, she decided being a mom was too much of a hassle and took off.

  I didn’t need drug therapy. I needed dick therapy.

  Then, when I was twenty-four, after three years of changing who I was to conform to someone else’s ideal, my husband sank a knife into my back and his dick into my best friend. I swore the day I found them I’d never put my trust in another human being and slept with as many men as possible. My therapist called it “Detached Overcompensating Behavior Therapy” and shoved antidepressants down my throat.

  I didn’t need drug therapy then either. I needed dick therapy.

  Lying in the small prison with four walls and a mattress, a sadistic chuckle fell from my chest. The one person that meant anything to me was gone. There was no therapist here to label me or shove pills at me, yet somehow, I’d still managed to find dick therapy.

  Running my hands down my face, my eyes landed on small droplets of blood on the floor. I knew they weren’t mine and reminded me that once Val’s post orgasmic sex high wore off, he probably spent the afternoon figuring out the best way to kill me with the least amount of exertion.

  A full body shiver ran through me. Even after sleeping for an hour, exhaustion had permanently set in. My body ached, and the pain in my arm radiated up my shoulder. Cradling my elbow against my chest, I cleared the few steps from the bed to the door. Logically, I knew it was pointless; however, I still closed my fingers around the doorknob, jerking furiously.

  Nothing.

  “Val! Open the door. You can’t keep me in here. Val!” Releasing the knob, I slammed my hand against the wood. “Val!” Pounding until my palm stung, a strangled cry tore from my throat as I slid to the floor.

  Touching the St. Michael medallion, I closed my eyes, and leaned my forehead against the doorframe. Heaviness gathered in the corners of my eyes as a wave of fatigue threatened to pull me under again. Haze clouded my vision, and I welcomed the blackness, surrendering to it.

  The peaceful calm had almost claimed me under when a pop pop pop from outside the bedroom wall jolted me back into consciousness. Fear paralyzed me as I recognized the sound. They weren’t fireworks. I’d heard the same sound in a pantry closet while Nash took his last breath. Peace flew out the window and panic overtook me.

  “Val!” Scrambling to my knees, I pounded on the door with renewed force. “Val, open the door! Please!” Tears ran from my eyes as I beat the door with both fists.

  Several blasts ripped through the house, and the force knocked me back onto my palms. Within seconds, the door flew open, and Val burst in, his eyes wide and wild. Dressed in black athletic pants and a thin white t-shirt, his unkempt hair dusted over his eyes as he bent down and hooked a muscular arm around my upper back.

  “Get up!” he hissed. “We have to go.”

  “What’s happening?” I felt myself panicking.

  “We’re under attack, no time!” Jerking me up, he pushed us both toward the door. In a daze, I resisted, staring blankly back into the bare room. “Eden!” he commanded.

  He never used my given name. That got my attention.

  I stumbled into the hallway, and Val’s hand bra
ced the base of my spine as men dressed in black clothing flanked us. It was too dark to get a look at their faces, and honestly, I didn’t care to see them anyway. Val’s hand tightened around mine as he dragged me through the house.

  He moved his hand to my neck and shoved my face toward his chest “Keep your head down!”

  My stomach twisted in knots. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere else.” He sounded calm, and I desperately wanted to look in his eyes to make sure his eyes matched his voice. But his hold tightened, keeping me literally and figuratively in the dark.

  “We’ve got you covered, boss. There are four out front and two in the house. Stay down around the next corner. On my command, dive low and to the right into the car. I’m right behind you.”

  Ignoring instructions, my head popped up. “Emilio?”

  Cursing, Val gripped my hair and bent me forward. “Cereza, get down!”

  “Stop yelling at me!”

  “Stop trying to get us killed!”

  Heated taunts echoed from inside the house. “Where are you, you chickenshit? Face us and bring that puta too, El Muerte!”

  My heart pounded as he expertly maneuvered us around the corner and out a side door. Once outside, a blast exploded beside us, and Emilio let out a low groan.

  Val paused, turning around. “What happened?”

  With a hand on both of our backs, Emilio shoved us toward the car, his face twisted in pain. “Go! It’s just a nick.”

  “Emilio…” Val called behind him, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead.

  “Get in the fucking car before I kick your ass, Carrera.” Clenching his teeth, Emilio held his side as his tanned skin turned a grayish-white color.

  Without another word, Val picked me up at the waist and threw me in the back seat of a dark colored sedan. The pain on my boss’s face etched in my mind, and despite the disdain I felt for him, I crawled toward the door. “You can’t just leave him!”

  Planting one foot inside the vehicle, Val propelled himself forward, knocking me onto my back. With the door closing behind him, the car lurched forward and peeled away from the house.

 

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