Every jostle and bump sent a shock of pleasure through me as I slipped a little bit in or out of her, and there was a constant, rhythmic vibration from the rickety engine. I tried to carefully control my breathing and look like nothing interesting was happening, which was increasingly difficult to do as I felt her muscles squeezing me. As the minutes passed, I could feel her building toward to an orgasm. I was painfully hard. The head of my cock was swollen and ready to burst, spreading her tight walls as far as they would go. Her soft, wet lips were wrapped fully around the base of my shaft by this time, and I bit my tongue as I felt the first spasms hit her. Her cunt flared around my erection and a hot rush of pleasure destroyed her control.
Inge leaned her forehead against the window. “Oh, dear God.”
Her muscles were clenching around me, milking me, and I wrapped my arms around her waist in an attempt to disguise her tremors from the other passengers. I could barely think straight as my cock started to pulse and I came. Thick, hot cum was shooting high up inside her. In public. Just as the bus was pulling into our stop. All I wanted to do was yank that tank top down, suck her nipples, bite her neck and shout out her name while I came. Instead I held my body as still as I could. I forced a smile on my face as the passengers around us gathered up their belongings and tried not to let anyone see how much I was enjoying every tight, throbbing spurt.
Finally, my dick stopped going wild, and I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Looking around quickly, I saw that no one had noticed. The noise of the bus, the music and the surrounding conversations, combined with the tight press of people, had hidden us in plain sight. Inge stayed sitting on me until my cock softened and slipped out of her. Then she stood, daintily pulling her skirt and underwear back into place, using my body as a shield from any prying eyes. I moved quickly to fasten my pants before anyone saw.
We exited the bus and Inge caught hold of my hand, running along the wide tree-lined street and propelling me along with her. When she stopped and turned to face me, she was laughing. “Wherever this madness takes us, Jake, if we kill each other at the end of this day, you make me feel more alive than any man has ever done.”
I stared down at her. At her beautiful face with its stunning sunlight-on-seawater eyes and, for once, I didn’t join in with her laughter. Because Inge had said something that made me stop and think. Made me examine a whole world of new possibilities. She had used the word if.
Chapter Sixteen
Inge
Although it was Ricky’s home, I always enjoyed coming to Cumbayá. After the dramatic mountain scenery of Quito, the rolling hill views surrounding the town were gentler and less intense. Because the altitude was lower than in the capital, the temperatures were higher and the air quality was better. The rich fog of exhaust fumes that hung in the air of the city was missing here. It felt easier to breathe here. For that reason, wealthy commuters had moved out of Quito and built new homes here. The result was that it looked like a large country club community on the opposite side of the mountain to the city.
“Most of the houses are new and very luxurious,” I told Jake as we walked along the wide streets. “But Ricky felt the need to do something different. He needed to demonstrate his status by showing that city-center living was no longer for him, but he missed the city and wanted to bring it with him.”
Jake looked at his wrist, then muttered a curse when he realized his watch was missing. He checked the display on his cell phone. “You said you were going to his house at two. It’s only one fifteen.”
“There’s a reason for that. Trust me.” I nearly laughed out loud at the words. Was I seriously asking Jake to trust me? Sexually, our trust in each other was absolute. Other than that, it was nonexistent. At least we both knew where we stood.
We climbed a short, steep incline. When we reached the top, we were looking down on a pretty plaza that reflected the colonial elegance of Quito’s old town. There were buildings on three sides. At the open end of the square, two men in black clothing lounged against the whitewashed walls of the buildings, smoking and chatting. Their stance was deceptively casual. From our vantage point, we were in a position slightly above the terracotta rooftops.
“This is Ricky’s home.”
“Which of these buildings belongs to him?” Jake’s eyes scanned the whitewashed walls of the buildings with their wrought-iron balconies, cornflower-blue shutters, trailing flowers and heavy iron-studded doors.
“All of them.” He turned to look at me with a frown in his eyes. “Ricky built this square when he moved his headquarters out to Cumbayá.” I pointed to the largest of the structures. It took up the entire section that was opposite the open end of the square. “That is his home. Ricky lives there with his serving staff and bodyguards. I’m a regular visitor, but even I couldn’t tell you which is his bedroom. He lives in constant fear of assassination and changes rooms every few weeks. Those buildings over there to the left are where his men live.”
“I thought you said his bodyguards lived in the house?” Jake was still observing the pleasant scene below us, his keen eyes taking in every detail. As we watched, the two men below us did a circuit of the square.
“An operation like Ricky’s needs a lot of manpower. His foot soldiers live over there.”
“And the other side?”
“That’s the base for his legitimate business. As a cover-up, Ricky is also the CEO of Villacruz Enterprises, a property development company catering for the needs of South America’s rich and famous.” I gave an ironic laugh. “It’s actually a very successful company.”
“So, if he’s so well guarded, how do we get in?”
“Those two guys are guarding the square, but they will have been told to expect me. If you attempt to enter that square, you will soon find yourself challenged. If you can’t give Ricky’s attack dogs a good enough reason for being there, you’ll either be beaten or, depending on their mood, killed. Not many people get away with a mere beating.” I gestured to the back of the main house. “This is the only way in.”
We both contemplated the rear of the building. Unlike the front, it had no intricate features. No decorative balconies or balustrades, no curved columns or graceful arches, no ornamental ironwork. Nothing that would help anyone in an attempt to climb this bland wall. No hand or footholds. Until you reached the third floor, the top floor of the building. Then, each room had its own balcony complete with scrolled iron balustrades and shuttered doors on the full-length windows. Each of these was firmly closed.
“Ricky changes bedrooms regularly, but his office is always in the same place.” I pointed to the middle room, the one with the largest balcony. “He can’t move it because his safe and all his office systems are in there. There is a complex alarm system, but it is disabled while he is working in there. And he spends most of his day in his office.”
“How do you know he’ll meet you in there and not in his bedroom?” Jake’s expression was shadowed. I knew the darkness in his eyes was at the thought of me in Ricky’s bedroom.
“It’s the middle of the day. He won’t leave his office. Ricky has always been proud of his ability to fuck me while taking an international call with one hand and typing an email with the other.”
Jake’s growl, while muted, told me it was probably a good idea not to share any more details of Ricky’s office-related sexual prowess. “So you’ll be in there.” He nodded toward Ricky’s office. “How do I get in? I’m good at climbing, but I can’t scale a wall with nothing to hold on to.”
“You’ll come down from the roof.” I pointed again, this time toward the left side of the building, where creeper grew in abundance. Thick strands of ivy mingled with vivid purple bougainvillea, flowing in a waterfall from the roof of the main house down onto a smaller building at the side. “That is the boiler house. If you can get onto the roof of that building, you can use
the creeper to climb onto the roof of the main house. From there, you can make your way along and drop down onto the balcony of Ricky’s office.”
Jake followed the line of my finger as I pointed out the route. “It could be done,” he agreed. “If that creeper will hold my weight.”
“It will.” My voice was confident. “Some of those strands are as thick as my forearm.”
He looked down at me in surprise. “How do you know that?”
I smiled, but there wasn’t any humor in the expression. “Killing Ricky Villacruz has been my obsession since I was sixteen. You have no idea how many times I’ve stood here and considered the options. How many ways I’ve pictured draining the life out of that bastard.”
We gazed at each and there were a hundred things we could have said to fill that silence. In the end, Jake said the only three little words that mattered. “Let’s do it.”
“I’ll be in his office at two. Give me until a few minutes after that.”
Jake nodded before walking away. I watched him as he navigated the slope toward the boiler house. Let my gaze linger on his broad shoulders, narrow hips and those long, lean legs. And, of course, the way the sculpted muscles of his ass moved as he walked. My eyes traveled up his body again. If I hadn’t been searching for it, I wouldn’t have seen the slight bulge under his left arm. Wouldn’t have known the concealed holster was there. Since I was the one who had organized both the weapon and the holster, it wasn’t a surprise to me.
When Jake reached the boiler house, he turned back to look at me, shielding his eyes from the sun. I raised my hand in a brief salute, or possibly a wave of farewell, and turned away. Walking back down the path, I made my way to the entrance to the square.
Chapter Seventeen
Inge
Ricky’s guards were expecting me. I didn’t like the way their gazes lingered on my body, but they were too scared of Ricky to do anything more than look. Since I had nothing with me except the tiny shoulder purse I carried, there was no need to check me for concealed weapons. Slightly breathless after running down the hillside, I followed one of the guards into the cool of the house.
Ricky liked to see himself as a rich colonial with old money, rather than someone who had made his billions the dirty way. He enjoyed showing off his wealth, so the interior of his mansion was overcrowded with antiques and artwork. I knew it was also crammed with cameras and alarms. The guard went ahead of me up the stairs and knocked on the door of Ricky’s office. After exchanging a few words with his boss, the security guy stepped aside and ushered me in.
“Mi bonita.” Ricky was seated behind a large carved oak desk. The paraphernalia of his status as leader of one of the largest drug cartels in the world was spread before him. Two laptops, a desktop PC, a landline and several mobile phones littered the desk’s surface. This was the place from which Ricky ran his empire. Nothing moved in his world without his knowledge. Maintaining his image as colonial nobility, he was busy opening letters with the antique silver letter opener he had stolen from one of his rivals. This was his afternoon routine. I knew it well, had counted on it. “You are early.”
I glanced at the array of clocks on the wall. The one set to local time showed it was ten to two. Just as I had planned it. I needed time before Jake got here. Ten minutes was tight, but it should be enough.
“Is that a problem?”
He tented his fingers beneath his chin, watching me with dark, predatory eyes as I approached the desk. A desk I had been bent backward or forward over many times. “Not at all. And you are panting, a little red in the face. Were you eager to get at me?”
I felt my annoyance bubble up to the surface. Rushing down the hill had been necessary, but I should have taken time to catch my breath before approaching the house. Reminding myself that Ricky preferred it when my mood was combative, I frowned. “I can’t help it if the buses are crowded.”
His smile deepened. “How’s the family? Dear Uncle Felipe? Still taking it up the ass for money?”
Ricky knew how to ignite my anger. He used this tactic every time. And I fell for it every time. Rage, molten and useless, flooded through my veins.
After his troubled youth, my uncle Felipe had turned himself around and was now a forceful social activist. Those damning photographs Ricky had used to blackmail me would wreck so many lives if they ever saw the light of day. I threw another glance at the clock. There was no time to waste, but Ricky would think there was something wrong if I ignored his comments. He would expect the usual angry and frustrated response.
I glared at him. “He is worth ten of you.”
“Of course he is. Bleeding-heart liberals always are.” He set down the letter opener and waved a hand at me. “Take your clothes off.”
“Not yet.” He raised a brow. His expression threatened retribution and I thought of Jake. Jake’s idea of retribution was to have me screaming with pleasure. Ricky’s would leave me screaming in pain. “I need to talk to you about Niko.”
Ricky’s face went carefully blank. “Niko?” He wasn’t fooling anyone with the pretense that he didn’t know who I was talking about. “Oh, the child.”
“I need money.” I need to get you to open that safe. The one where you keep the photographs of Felipe...and the loaded gun. The one with the silencer. “His childcare is expensive.”
“You are a wealthy woman, mi bonita. Your little squad pays you more than pin money.” I remained stubbornly silent, and he sighed. Getting up from his chair, he came around the desk. “Very well. Undress while I get the cash from the safe.”
“Turn off the cameras first,” I said as I pulled my tank top over my head and kicked off my sandals. “I don’t want to find myself starring on social media because your security guards decided to have a little fun with this footage.”
“Don’t tell me you have become shy all of a sudden.” Laughing, Ricky flicked a switch beneath his desk to turn off the security cameras before making his way over to the safe.
I released a sigh of relief as I stepped out of my skirt. I didn’t want any record of what was about to happen. Ricky knelt to punch in the combination. Hardly daring to breathe, I watched as the door to the safe swung open. It was exactly two o’clock. Reaching behind me, I felt the sharp edge of the letter opener beneath my fingers.
“How much do you want?”
As Ricky turned his head, I plunged the long, thin blade of the letter opener into the center of his right eye. His mouth gaped open in shock and he toppled backward. I let myself fall with him, landing with my knees on his chest so that his body took the brunt of my fall and the blade drove deeper. Knowing a straight stab to the eye might not kill him, I twisted it back and forth with all my strength until I felt it pierce the bone of his skull and lodge deep inside his brain. With a feeling of satisfaction, I let go. I stood over him, breathing in the sense of triumph. I had dreamed of this moment for a very long time.
I had been a sixteen-year-old virgin the first time I stepped into this office. It was the scene of my nightmares, and the man lying on the floor had caused me more pain and fear than I could measure. I had killed many times in the name of business. I could act like a machine, push aside feelings of guilt, dehumanize a body. This time, I didn’t want to do those things. I wanted to absorb the emotion of this scene. I wanted to breathe it in. Every slap, every bruise, every insult, every humiliating position...they had all been paid back in full.
I didn’t feel an instant’s remorse. I hadn’t expected to. What I didn’t anticipate was the sense of peace that came with the exultation. Ricky had been a black cloud hanging over my life, and now I was free of him. If only I had time to enjoy the feeling. If only I had someone with whom I could celebrate...
As I reached into the safe for the gun, I heard a sound on the balcony outside. It was time to put the second part of my plan into action.
Chapter Eighteen
Jake
Fucking ivy. I had no problem getting onto the boiler house, but Inge had seriously over-estimated the ease with which I would be able to climb from there onto the roof of the main house.
As I had slithered down the slope and reached the boiler house, I had turned back to look at Inge. Although the sun was in my eyes and I couldn’t see her expression, I got the strangest feeling. As she raised her hand to me, it had felt like I was losing her. As if she was fading from my grasp. It was like a giant kick in the crotch. Sadness and pain in equal intensity. But I couldn’t understand why. Because this was the point where I was meant to lose her. Although she was mine, she was never really mine to keep. Not forever. As her hand fell back to her side and I walked away, I tried to tell myself that. It didn’t work. Where Inge was concerned, the word mine was branded into my brain. Along with a new word. If.
You’re doing this the wrong way around. Kill that bastard Villacruz, then start thinking about new possibilities.
Now whenever I thought of Villacruz, I didn’t think of the man who had double-crossed the commander in a drug deal. I thought of the man who had blackmailed Inge when she was sixteen. Every time I thought about what that son of a bitch had done to her, I felt my blood start to boil. Putting a bullet in his brain would be so much more enjoyable now I was doing it for Inge. Duty had become pleasure.
The tattoo on my left arm had been done when I was fourteen. It was the crest and motto of the unit. Dei i zvedu mamisa. Roughly translated: If it is ours, we will fuck you up. It had started out as a statement of intent to reclaim land and become a battle cry. Stand in our way and you are dead. The tattoo had been my way of declaring allegiance to the commander, to the unit. They had taken my family from me and brainwashed me into believing they were my new family. I wasn’t so stupid I didn’t know that was how it worked. But could the unthinkable have happened in the past week? Had I found a new allegiance? Inge’s image came into my mind. Her smile, her eyes half-closed in pleasure, that little gurgling sound she made when she came with my hand around her throat.
Seduction Squad: Captured Page 8