DIABLO INSIDE

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DIABLO INSIDE Page 17

by Amarie Avant


  I’d made the mistake of my life before with Alejandra, and my second chance had fucked me over.

  Her actions created El Santo.

  But something deep down warns, what of Alejandra’s actions? She was my first taste of deception.

  I slide my phone out, pressing on the surveillance at my house. Dominic isn’t home. Figures. He defiled LeAnna in his car after leaving the police station. She’s transforming into his little whore, not an ángel. It reminds me of when Dominic took Alejandra from me. So, there will be no falling for LeAnna. Unable to finish watching, I’d come straight to Angelica.

  I search the surveillance of LeAnna’s home, although I only have videos of her bedroom, art room, and kitchen. Dominic’s Apple Watch is off, and I’m hearing the sound of rushing water. He’s getting into a shower or bath is all I’m able to presume.

  “Damn, gotta move quickly,” I tell myself.

  I heft Angelica’s frame into my arms. The physical exertion makes me growl. I rub my hand across Angelica’s face.

  “I made a promise to you, gordita. You will not die.” But LeAnna will. That is once I’m done getting inside of her. I smile at my dedication to the sleeping woman. “Vamanos. Mi casa is su casa.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Dominic

  At the break of dawn, I dragged my ass home. This morning, I sit at the island, elbows on the marble countertop, holding my head up. My dick is bruised so good from screwing Aria so many times. But the rest of me regrets the lack of sleep.

  Having the time of my life with one woman is consuming me, along with her looks. Her taste. Her loca antics.

  I try to focus on work and a plan to keep Yasiel busy during his suspension when there is a sound that suddenly reminds me that I’d fallen asleep.

  “Fuck,” I grumble. Did Dario fall from his wheelchair again? Am I nipping his balls by running to him when he falls? I gulp down my cup of coffee and start down the hall to the service staircase. At his door, my ears perk.

  “I need you to . . .” That’s definitely Dario. Did I also hear a feminine voice? Who’s he talking to?

  The door swooshes open. Dario stares up at me from his wheelchair, fingers steepled. “Here, I thought you were ramming your dick into the next whore, but you’re eavesdropping?”

  Other than looking into the mirror and the other subtle similarities, we couldn’t be different. “I heard a loud drop, Dario. Forgive me for giving a fuck about my blood.”

  He waves a hand. “Is that all? Usually, when you come running to save me, you mention Mami looking down at us. You’re a regular ol’ santo, sí?”

  I plaster on a smile. “I heard a woman. You getting into any more online chats? Invite one over. How about a double date?”

  My brother blinks a few times, caught off guard by my change of subject. I bet a nice little chula could soften his stony heart.

  “Double date with who?”

  I offer him a “you’re an asshole” grin before saying, “Hermano, I want you to be happy.”

  “Pay Carlotta to polish my dick like she used to? Don’t overestimate her value. You splurge too much on pretty women.”

  If my hermano weren’t so delusional, I’d be insulted by his baseless accusations. Me pay for sex? Fuck no. And Carlotta was good nurse, professional. Her resume was the perfect assessment of her worth. We were lucky to have her before he chased her off.

  Letting Dario’s claims slide, I focus on a textbook I read about his situation. The passage suggested finding the one positive note in a bad situation. “You two were together? What happened?”

  He’s silent. I stand awkwardly. We never talked about girls. There was the one time we were fifteen, maybe sixteen, that he declared Alejandra was off-limits. Aria is the first female I’ve spoken of since.

  “What happened, Dario? Carlotta was committed to your recovery. She seemed to care a great deal—” I stop speaking at the sight of dirt near the door to the walk-in closet. “Do you fucking have another animal?”

  Dario’s eyes fly to the closet then me. He drops his head. “Aye, sí, Dominic. Should I move?”

  I point a finger at him. “Stop it, Dario! I’m not throwing you out on the street. Last time you had an animal, I returned home to broken glass all over the den.”

  He pivots in his wheelchair, holding up his hand. “Okay, okay! This time it’s a stray puppy. Guarantee, I’ll break the puta soon. Give me a chance to—”

  “What the fuck happened to your hand?”

  He whips his palm around then gulps. “I-I, fuck, it’s embarrassing to admit, hermano. I bit myself. I think a therapy dog would help.”

  Fuming, I back toward the door. “Get the animal out of the fucking closet, Dario. Take ‘em for a walk. I’m headed to work. At this rate, Yasiel will have dropped off my breakfast and got into some other mayhem. We can discuss this later.”

  Outside, I whack my blazer across the clay tile. I pull my cellphone out of my slacks and search for Doctor Anderson’s number. Nothing comes up.

  “Fuck!” I still haven’t updated the contact list of the new iPhone. I dial Carlotta’s number from memory, and not because of Dario’s suspicion that I had anything more than a working relationship with her.

  “Hey, Dom.” She answers on the first ring. “How’s Dario?”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I recall how Carlotta had agreed to return to the house a while back. My hermano had attempted to choke her when she arrived. My groveling hadn’t been sufficient to get her back, though she had needed a job.

  “Still could use anger management. How are you?” I shove a hand through my hair, clinging to the manners Mami taught us.

  “Better than you, I’m sure.” She chortles. “I found a family in need of respite for an ailing grandma to celebrate their anniversary in Peru. Maybe they won’t come back too soon.”

  “Bueno.” I nod then get down to business. “Can you text me Dr. Anderson’s number if you still have it? Also, um . . .”

  “Hesitance from the great attorney Dominic Alvarez. Shocking.”

  “You’re telling me. I’m shocked right now. Have you ever witnessed Dario bite himself?”

  “Like his fingernails?”

  “No. Like his fucking body.” I rub the back of my neck, rattled by the entire ordeal.

  “I’m no shrink, Dom, but I worked with a young lady who bit herself to relieve stress. She also had a shoddy upbringing. Depression. Abuse.”

  “Okay, I’ve never heard of such a thing.” I quickly thank her for texting me the number and hang up. In the driver’s seat of my ride, I fist the steering wheel in contemplation of how my parents raised us. For every bit of light streaming through our Mami, Papi was the darkness. Papi never had a problem with me, though. He could appreciate my aggressive nature—captain of the soccer team, lover of the ladies. Even the devil plays nice sometimes.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Aria

  A few days later, I coast on the elliptical at the local gym. My eyes fall from the row of flat screens bolted to the wall to my cellphone in the machine’s holder.

  “Strange, Dom stopped responding,” I mutter to myself. Our stream of text messages had kept me devoted to the “beauty is pain” bs while I worked out.

  A hard smack resounds against my ass. “Ari’,” Roslyn snaps. “Don’t go working off that ass.”

  The mirrors lining the wall in front of me show a few patrons beginning to watch our interaction. I slow the machine to a pause. “Don’t have strangers thinking they can walk up and whack me on the ass, too.”

  “Shit, let them try. Until recently, I was the only one spanking you.” With a devious smile, she orders, “Who has been spanking you?”

  “What does spanking have to do with sex?”

  “Because if he isn’t smacking ass while fucking then you don’t want him, mami.”

  I climb off the equipment as the woman behind Roslyn stares at us, mortified.

  “Ha! Are you seeing Francisco?
I’m not in the mood for our triannual intervention. Besides, I’m the only one who gains five pounds in Twinkies and brownie batter when he breaks your heart.”

  “Aria, I’m seeing someone new.”

  I settle on a weight bench and lift a twenty-pound dumbbell discarded nearby, then set it back down. “New as in, the guys we met at the club a few weeks ago—”

  “Old news.” Roslyn squats down, claiming the dumbbell I had. “Hey, you’re supposed to live vicariously through me. My new guy wears a uniform for a living.”

  I head to the weight rack and heft a five pounder.

  “Ari’, I’m not sure which I should wish when it comes to you. Any ol’ Jose or a Francisco. Aye, I pray you meet a Francisco who screws you so good your sanity is tested!”

  “You pray that I . . . wow.” I trail off, visualizing Dominic. Maybe she’s on to something.

  “What’s that face? Huh!” Roslyn hollers, picking up speed.

  “You’re too loud,” I whisper.

  “You met a unicorn dick!”

  “Girl, we are too close to the childcare center. If a little kid asks his or her momma what a unicorn penis—”

  “No, not penis. Dick! Add some baritone to your voice.” Her arm curls increase another notch. “Here are synonyms: super dick, legendary, Francisco!”

  “Okay, I’m dating someone. Cease with the San Fran, or you’re likely to forget uniform guy.” I clear my throat. A silly grin spills across my cheeks. “Guess who!”

  “Shit, mi primo, Carlos?”

  “No!”

  “Darian?”

  I shake my head, resting my dumbbell, first rep completed.

  “Juan, Chuey?”

  “Stop name dropping your cousins, Ros.”

  “Whatever, mamacita. It has to be a Sanchez behind that glow.”

  I laugh, my eyes trailing across the room, landing on a green gaze that sends an inferno across the surface of my skin. Dominic stopped answering. Now, he’s here.

  “Hey, let’s do the Zumba class.” Roslyn nudges her chin, unaware of my dilemma. “Also, who’s the guy?”

  Brain going mush, I gesture toward the glass windows. “I’ll meet you in—”

  “You going to the restroom?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll—”

  “No meeting in the ladies’ room today, Ros. Meet me in class. I have to uggh . . . you know . . .”

  “Oh?”

  My eyebrows clamp, and I realize what I’ve inferred. “I’ll be back.”

  As I walk away from her, I lower my head and submit a shameful prayer.

  Okay, so I had sex at daybreak this morning. But it’s a quarter past two, and I’m fiending.

  I start toward the corridor where Dominic stood. I glance left, and then I’m yanked right and plastered against the wall. His mouth descends onto mine. My legs lock around him, pelvic thrusting down.

  “We gotta stop doing this,” I murmur, coming up for air. His mouth tastes like those sweet-spicy cigarettes that aren’t good for either one of us.

  “Tell me to stop.” Dominic groans into my ear. He gathers the fabric of my pants into his hands. Calloused fingers slip underneath the stretchy material, tingling the skin across my valley. “Tell me to stop, LeAnna.”

  “Don’t—”

  “Call you LeAnna, or don’t stop. Make it clear to me, sí?” Dominic buries his face between my breasts, kneading his mouth in tandem with his left hand.

  “Oh, yes.” I work my hips off the wall, as his other fingers plunge into me. With my legs anchored around him, I twirl my hips and jut down, soaking his fingers.

  “How do you want it, mami? Right here, right now?”

  “Dom,” I tremble his name.

  “You say no, I won’t fuck you good. Don’t say no.”

  “Fuck me.” I groan out my orgasm.

  He removes his hand, running his wet thumb across my mouth. “That’s what I like to hear, mami.”

  Dominic moves back, staring at me like a lion on the prowl. I gasp, body on fire for his touch.

  He starts toward the hallway.

  “Don’t go.” I pant.

  “Shhh, stay.”

  He picks up an orange cone, conveniently placed right behind the wall. Moving with a swagger, he positions it in the middle of the hallway.

  Anyone who glances his way has the view of his heart-melting smile. Heck, as nosey as I am, I’d follow. I cream in my panties, contemplating him diving deep.

  “What if someone keeps walking toward us?”

  Humming, Dominic peels my pants down, stopping them at the ankle. I hook my thumbs into my thong, but he pulls up. The friction of the lace material dragging along my pussy lips sends stars before my eyes.

  “Look at that little fuck face,” Dominic says, dropping a kiss on my bottom lip. He grips the sides of my thong, tugging.

  Denied penetration, I slither my hips like a snake. “Please fuck me, Dominic.”

  “Look at this gorgeous face. I hope someone walks by. I’m not even breaking your sweet pussy in half, and you’re begging for it.”

  The gush of wetness between my legs intensifies. I concentrate on the friction of the thin material at my sex and flickering over my clit. He has complete control over me. I moan, tightening my eyes shut.

  “Cum,” Dominic grits out.

  “Shit!” I clamp my hands over my mouth. The thong tears across my flesh as my juices saturate down. An orgasm rushes like a river down my thighs.

  “May I?” Dominic holds up my shredded thong. When I nod, he places the token into his pocket. His hand skims up my thigh, collecting the sticky sex I left behind. Meticulously slow, he rubs the gloss across his lips.

  Hyperventilating, I glance toward the orange cone at the junction in the hallway.

  “Focus on me, LeAnna.”

  “I am.”

  His wet mouth claims mine, our tongues clashing and sucking. My own reaches out to lick the sweets off his sexy lips.

  “Mírame, mami. Keep your eyes on me. I’ll let you know if someone sees this sexy ass.” His hand clutches my thickness. “And I’ll kill the motherfucker for looking at you. How does that sound?”

  Though I couldn’t take my eyes off him if I wanted to, a light, airy laugh bubbles up out of my chest. “You’re so crazy, Dominic.”

  I’m spun around. His strong hand wraps in my hair. A painful sting shoots down my spine as he twists my head back. Dominic’s tongue is a dominating intrusion in my mouth. His erection is a greater punishment to my core.

  Dominic’s tongue and cock are a dark promise to get me off quickly as they withdraw and plunge into me. Faster. Harder. “Tell me I own you, LeAnna.”

  “You own me.”

  Danger and mystery dance in his eyes. Looking up at Dominic Alvarez, I come to terms with one thing. I don’t know a single thing about the man I crave. His emotions are a chameleon—passionate, kind, jealous, rage. But his sex encompasses my wildest dreams.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  El Santo

  At the sound of his name exiting those lush lips, I spin LeAnna around. Her body presses against the wall. Dominating her with one hand in her hair, my other compresses the fat meat of her ass.

  “We are playing a game, mami,” I murmur in her ear.

  Earlier, after I’d sedated Angelica, I returned to my phone to see a symphony of text messages. Dominic is soft with her. He’s patient, slow. He doesn’t treat her like his others. That became evident before they stumbled upon the dead fuck at the park. Every fiber in him craved her. Had she been another woman, he would’ve struck, had her at the park, without any consideration to her emotions. Something in her had broken a few minutes before they found the body.

  My fingernails chew into her neck, and I condemn myself for the momentary lapse in judgment—the ‘give a fuck.’

  Fire is in LeAnna’s eyes as she glances back at me in anticipation. Dominic spoiled her. Even with his attempt at patience, she’s ruined. No ánge
l. So, while he’s alternating between holding her hand and keeping her to himself, I’ll devour her.

  “What kind of game?” she inquires, running her tongue over her lip.

  “When I meet you out like this,” my hand slides over her hips, swatting and caressing her brown curves, “we don’t discuss it later. Okay, LeAnna?”

  “One caveat. No calling me—”

  My hand clamps the back of her neck again. I gawk at the bite on my palm. I can’t let her see that. My teeth dig into the softest skin of her shoulder. When pain slides out of her mouth in the form of a sigh, I unleash my hold of her. “Who calls the fucking shots, mami?”

  “You,” she gasps.

  “Damn right. You will be called LeAnna. The name was given to you, sí?”

  Her flesh burns in defiance. “Yes,” she grits.

  “And I will break this pussy in half every time we meet, my sweet LeAnna.”

  “P-please.”

  “Bueno. I like that response.” Last Rule, I say in my brain, call me Dominic, and I’ll choke you until your eyeballs turn into jelly.

  But she doesn’t respond because I’m pulling down my zipper like a rabid beast. My cock burrows into her slick, rippling walls. Muscular thighs beneath her, I slam to the hilt. I reach around and tug at her nipple, locking her into place.

  “Oh god,” she purrs. “Stay there. I love it right there.”

  I love it right there. Her words echo in my ear. I love it right there, Dario.

  The dark part of me is thrilled at the thought of punishing her further. Of my name being the last thing on her purple, oxygen-deprived lips. Arousal too intense to be satiated, I focus on her warm, wet pussy, and not ending her now. My fingertips bruise her nipples, no remorse.

 

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