I’ve never been one to enjoy porn, but sitting here with Nikolas, knowing such a virile man is next to me—is a bit erotic. Thankfully, he’s simply watching the show and not antagonizing me.
The show continues, and even though I grow increasingly uncomfortable by their sex acts, my attention is riveted on them. The woman is very flexible, and soon both men are inside her in some way, whether it’s vaginal, anal or oral. They move their bodies to the music, and she continues to fluidly switch positions as she bends her body in ways that allow for easy penetration.
“Quite a show, isn’t it,” Nikolas murmurs in my ear, startling me.
“It’s certainly different,” I agree, unable to peel my eyes away from the writhing threesome.
“Are you wet?” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.
Every single skin cell tingles, and it’s difficult to focus on reality. I turn my head and meet his gaze. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I muse. I didn’t mean it as a challenge, it was meant to mock him, but it backfires.
He closes the space between us and claims my lips before I can pull away. I want to deny him this kiss, but as he skillfully sweeps his tongue into my mouth, I find my resolve weakening. The kiss is erotically demanding, and I begin to respond as our tongues dance together.
The world seems to tilt, but all my thoughts are scattered, and I can’t seem to pull them together as he eases me onto my back. My hands instinctively clutch his shoulders as his mouth holds mine captive. Those confident hands slide down my body, and it feels so good to be touched. I arch my back as his body settles beside mine, his warm hand caressing my thigh.
His teeth suddenly nip at my lower lip, and I gasp into his mouth from the sweet hint of pain. I quickly realize he’d used the distraction to slide his hand between my legs. The heat from his hand burns the flesh between my thighs. I instinctively want to part them, but I’m scrambling to regain control of my thoughts.
His finger eases the fabric of my panties aside and brushes my already swollen clit that’s aching for release. The sensation causes my breath to hitch and my hips to jerk.
“Open,” he growls against my lips.
My body betrays me as I part my thighs.
He makes an approving sound against my mouth as his finger trails down my wet folds. “You’re dripping,” he murmurs before sliding his finger back up to the tight bud.
I’m so fucking lost to the arousal as he works the nub between his fingers. Unable to draw in a full breath with his mouth on mine, I tear my lips from his and arch my neck, eyes closed as I release a moan. I’m already so close…
Warm lips brush my throat, and his velvety tongue teases the sensitive skin above my pulse as his fingers work my clit. Unable to deny the building release, I arch my hips into his hand. When my body suddenly explodes, I release a throaty moan as my body spasms while I ride the orgasm. As the shudders ease, my body melts into a puddle on the sofa. So good…
Nikolas chuckles against my neck. “Definitely wet,” he says arrogantly.
It’s as if I’ve been doused with an ice-cold bucket of water. With awareness comes shame. I push against his chest. “Get off me,” I say thickly as I choke back tears of humiliation.
Thankfully, Nikolas eases away from me, but not before his eyes deliberately hold mine as he says, “Now, you look like you’re mine.”
Everything within me stills as I suck in a huge breath of air and struggle to pull together my composure. Then, as calmly as I can, I adjust the hem of my dress over my thighs as I sit upright. I rise to my feet, my expression cool and controlled.
Nikolas lithely stands as well, his handsome face unreadable except for the glint in his eyes that tell me he believes he can control me.
Like hell he can. There’s a difference between a brief moment of mindless lust and reality. My usual reaction to being rattled is to throw off the opposition.
I step towards him and press my body against his as my fingers reach up and pretend to fix an out of place hair near his temple. This close, I can see that I’ve taken him by surprise. “I haven’t had sex in over six months, so don’t think that you know my body or can control it. Anyone could have made me come tonight, Nikolas. Secondly, this is just a charade, so you can hope it appears that I look like I’m yours, but you’ll never know the full reality of what it’s like to have a woman like me riding you hard and dirty until you’re exhausted from being in my bed.” I give him a slow, deliberate smile as I step away from him and turn, heading for the door. I say over my shoulder, “Are we done here? Because I know I am.”
* * *
Staying holed up in my apartment the next day turns out to be unbearable. Within those four walls are very little distractions, and I’m still seething over how last night had gone down. So here I am, sitting in a little café while Tomàs wisely gives me my space. He’s situated himself across the room and appears to be reading a newspaper someone had left behind.
I sip my caramel latte and casually ‘people watch’ as I try to pull together the chaos in my mind. I’d awoken this morning with a sinking sensation in my stomach. I’m not going to fool myself into thinking the brief moment of sexual hunger last night was due to the seductive atmosphere. I’ve been attracted to Nikolas since the moment I’d laid eyes on him, and I’ve been struggling against it ever since.
I hate that I feel this way towards someone other than Zac, but the reality is, life goes on. I’m going to have these feelings, and I’m going to be attracted to other men. I just wasn’t expecting it to be this soon, or for it to be directed towards such an arrogant man. He claims this is all for show, but after last night, sex is exactly where this is headed if he continues to push the boundaries of this…attraction. Somehow, I need to prevent that from happening. I don’t want it to be him when I physically move on from Zac. Nikolas doesn’t deserve that gift or me for that matter.
God, that man has lit a fire within me, but not the lustful kind. I’m livid over how he’d played me last night, and now I’m even more focused on why I’m here in Los Angeles. I want my father to pay so badly for everything he’s done. I know that I can’t fully put Zac to rest in my mind, and that he himself won’t have peace until my father is dead. If only Nikolas wasn’t dragging this out for his own selfish pleasure. I’m stuck in this odd limbo of yearning for vengeance but not being able to move on from it, because nothing has been fully achieved.
So here I am, ‘people watching’ and struggling with the ferocity of the emotions stirring within me.
I know what would make me feel a smidgen better.
It’s a bad idea, and I’ve been trying to talk myself out of it—without any luck. Though honestly, my father already knows where I am, and Nikolas has proven I’m well-protected. All this anger stirring within me has nowhere to go, and I need to vent somehow. I might as well do what my gut is telling me to do, and I set down the latte.
I never got the chance to confront my father, to tell him how much I hate him for taking Zac from me. When I’d escaped from Navarez’s security at that hotel, I’d left in the night, slipping away and disappearing fast. If I have any hope of calming the storm within me, I think telling my father what I think might help ease it.
My mind is made, and I rise to my feet. I’ve instantly gained Tomàs’s attention, but I ignore him as I walk to counter and ask the woman if I can use their phone. Yes, I have the cell phone I’d been given, but I don’t want it tainted from my father’s voice. Then, every time I look at my phone, I would remember our conversation, and I don’t want that.
The woman says I can use the one in the back, and as I follow her, I sense Tomàs on my heels. The woman is a little uncertain of him, but I assure her that he’s fine, he’s just my driver.
We enter a small room that appears to be a breakroom. Honestly, it’s a jumbled mess. The table in the center of the room is covered in random belongings, and there’s a mop and bucket in the corner. The counter—the one where the phone is located—is covered wit
h papers and napkins. A large box of Styrofoam cups is sitting precariously close to the edge.
The woman looks at me and Tomàs wearily. “You have two minutes,” she tells me.
I give her a warm smile. “Thank you.” The second she leaves to give us privacy, I turn on Tomàs. “Can you give me a little breathing room?”
He just looks at me, showing no signs he’s going to leave the room.
“I’m using the phone. What else am I going to do in here?” I can’t help but ask with a hint of exasperation.
After a moment passes, he gives me a warning look and exits the breakroom. I’m quite certain he’s standing just out of sight, but it’s better than nothing.
I dial my father’s private number and wait.
After three rings, my father clips out, “Sì?”
I switch over to Spanish. “Hola Papi,” I mock.
There’s a brief moment of silence. “Catalina,” he says in a condescending tone. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. I know what you did, and I’m going to make you wish you’d never taken Zac from me. Although you’ll be joining him in death, only you’ll be the one rotting in Hell.”
“Are you going to be the one to pull the trigger, Catalina?” he taunts, not taking my threat seriously.
“Spilled blood demands blood retribution, isn’t that your motto?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I don’t have to,” I say, making sure he hears the smirk in my voice. “Your empire is falling, and you have me to thank for that. The worst is yet to come, and your days are numbered.” I end the call before he can reply.
My world feels reasonably centered again. All the chaos has calmed, and I feel like I’m ready to face the coming days. When I exit the breakroom, I pass by Tomàs.
“Do you think that was wise?” he asks from behind me.
“Wise or not, it needed to be said.”
That was the last conversation I will ever have with my father before he finds himself six feet under.
I can live with that.
Eleven
Nikolas
I’m in the middle of an afternoon business meeting—a legitimate one that has no cartel ties, when my phone vibrates with an incoming text. I ignore it, knowing that if it’s an emergency, Santos will be contacted and will handle whatever the issue is.
The meeting drags on for another half hour before it finishes, and I smile and shake hands with several men before I exit the conference room and make my way to the elevator.
Xavier is standing beside it, patiently waiting. I nod to him, and he presses the button to call the elevator. After we step inside, I pull my phone from my pocket and glance at the text. It was Tomàs, and he says he has new information on Catalina.
I’m curious to find out what he’s unearthed, but I wait until I’m in the limo before I call him. “What have you learned?”
“She made a phone call to her father earlier,” he informs me, his voice low—probably so Catalina won’t overhear.
My eyebrows lift with surprise. She’s made no move to contact him since she’d arrived in my territory. “What was said?”
“It was a confrontation of sorts. From what I gather, Mario ordered the death of someone important to her. Someone named Zac. She’s out for blood, there’s no doubt about that,” he says.
“Good. Anything else?”
“No. It was a short conversation.”
“Keep me informed.” I end the call and settle back in my seat, thinking of what Tomàs had just revealed.
I can easily piece together what had happened. Death fucks with people, and it can bury you in darkness for a very long time. The scars on Catalina’s wrists make sense now, and I can feel myself softening towards her. I can understand her need for vengeance, because we have the loss of a loved one in common.
My mind goes back to last night and how she’d come alive in my arms, and damned if I wasn’t enjoying myself. I grind my teeth together as I recall how much it’d backfired. It hadn’t helped when she’d made her parting remark about how I’d never know what it’d be like to have her riding me hard and dirty. All that’d done was put an erotic vision in my head that I haven’t been able to rid myself of.
I’d wanted to punish her, to make her realize that I’m the one holding the reins, and she’s just being maneuvered where I want her. But damn, she came back swinging and with claws out. The worst of it is the fact that every time she comes at me like that, the more I find myself respecting her. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever known.
When I realize where my mind has gone, I shut down my thoughts and focus on Herrera. He has to be growing desperate as his empire continues to crumble around him. And Catalina’s phone call has probably incited him further.
Good.
Twelve
Catalina
It’s been a few days since I’d made that phone call at the café. It had calmed the turmoil inside me, and I’m finding it easier to begin focusing on my future. I’m aware that calling my father hasn’t made anything better in the long run, but it’d helped being able to say the things that had been weighing me down since I’d learned the truth about Zac’s death.
It also isn’t healthy staying cooped up in the apartment, and I’ve considered getting a job until I leave the country. The money I have isn’t going to last forever, and I had planned on using some of it to continue my schooling once I reach my destination overseas. However, I’m paying rent, and it’s beginning to cut into my finances.
The next logical step would be to secure a job so I’m replacing what I spend, but it may not be wise at this point. Especially since my father’s henchmen tried to kidnap me last week, though it would be quite enjoyable making Nikolas have to sort out how to keep me protected.
My thoughts turn darker as I think of the man that is rarely far from my thoughts. I’m still trying to figure out how to handle him. I’d like to get under his skin as much as he gets under mine, but the only thing that really aggravates him is my being around other men, and large crowds. Of course, then that draws retaliation in the form of using my body against me.
I certainly don’t want to put myself at risk just to piss him off, but someday, it’d be nice to turn the tables and be the one in control. Wishful thinking on my part, I’m sure. For now, all I can do is put him off every time he thinks he’s getting his way. Easier said than done.
Frustration sweeps over me, and I push the laptop away from me and recline back on the bed, sighing. A job sounds so appealing right about now since the apartment feels like a prison. But I’m not a fool. A job brings too much risk.
Which means I’m back at square one, waiting for Nikolas to stop playing with my father.
* * *
When a hand clamps over my mouth, I think it’s part of a dream until my shoulder is shaken, and I wake abruptly. My eyes fly open in terror, and in the darkness of my room, I find a dark shadow hovering over me. Screams immediately rise up into my throat, but they come out muffled as the shadow leans closer. Desperate to alert Tomàs, my fingers pry at the hands as my legs kick out at anything they can come into contact with.
“It’s me,” Tomàs hisses in my ear.
When I recognize his voice, my thundering heart begins to calm as I try to gulp in air, but his hand is still covering my mouth. I anxiously tug at his hand, shaking my head as I inhale through my nose, signaling that I’m not getting enough oxygen. My lungs feel like they’ve shrunken to miniscule size, and my panic is building.
His hand abruptly leaves my mouth, and I gulp in air and naturally rise up, swinging my fist towards his head for scaring the shit out of me. He easily intercepts my fist and grips it in his hand. “Stop it,” he says sharply. “They’re coming for you.”
I blink with confusion as I try to process what he’d said. “What?” My mind is still rattled from being woken in such a terrifying manner.
“Let’s g
o. Now.” He grips my upper arm and physically pulls me off the bed.
One of the sheets has followed me from the bed and is still somewhat tangled around my feet, causing me to stumble into him. I use his hard chest to steady myself as I kick it away. “Okay, okay. Let me grab a few things,” I mumble.
“No time. Do everything I say,” he says, guiding me towards the bedroom door. I’m not moving fast enough, so his body is literally propelling me forward.
It’s beginning to sink in that the ‘they’ he’s referring to are my father’s henchmen. Shit. As far as I know, Tomàs is the only one assigned to me, which means we might be outnumbered. My brain becomes more alert, and I find myself hurrying to the doorway without his help.
Once we’re there, he ushers me behind him, his body blocking mine. In the shadows, I watch as he leans forward and peeks out into the hallway of my apartment. For the first time, I note that he’s holding a gun with a long snout. A silencer, I’m assuming. “Stay directly behind me, and I mean directly. Hands on my sides,” he commands to me over his shoulder, his eyes glued to the hall.
I nod even though he’s not looking at me. As soon as I have my hands on his waist, his shirt wrinkling from my grip, he eases into the darkened hall, gun aimed and ready if he should spy movement. I stay on his heels as he leads me down the hall. I can’t see anything, so I am blindly trusting him. We make our way through the living room until we reach the apartment’s outer door. He guides me to the wall beside it.
“If gunfire breaks out, you find a place to hide and don’t leave the apartment. Got it?” he whispers.
“Yes,” I say, my voice hollow. This is a nightmare come true, and I’m thoroughly scared.
Tomàs silently turns the knob and cracks the door open, and that’s when I begin to realize that I’m barely dressed. I’d gone to bed in a pale pink tank and black, lace cheeky panties. It dawns on me that my apparel or lack of should be the least of my worries, but my brain is focusing on dumb things to keep me from losing my shit.
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