by Logan Fox
It was emptier out here than he thought—beside Javier’s mistresses, four men were around the patio table playing cards and smoking cigars. A bottle of whiskey sat to one side, but none had a full glass in front of him.
The sun was starting to set, and it outlined one of the two guards were they walked an invisible perimeter that spanned several yards away from the end of the pool and the gazebo.
Javier’s men eyed him as he walked past, but his presence didn’t seem to set off any red flags; they went straight back to their game without a word in his direction.
Ana, however, decided to wake up from her stupor as he was about a yard away from her.
“Milo!” She waved at him, as if worried he’d miss her.
“Ana,” he said.
“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, cocking her head when he glanced over at her.
He looked around. Shrugged. “Swimming?” he said, lifting his hands a little.
She giggled, and got off her lounger, pausing long enough to snag her drink before hurrying over to him. So he dove into the pool, if only to get away from her, and came up on the other side.
Ana stood on the edge of the pool, and then sat down and carefully slid inside so she wouldn’t spill her drink.
“Christ,” Finn muttered, swiping a hand down his face. Where the hell was Gabriella? He didn’t have time to splash around in the fucking pool. If she wasn’t going to meet him here, then he’d—
“Is Cora coming?” Ana asked as she waded closer to him, her cocktail glass held high. “I haven’t seen her all day.”
“Maybe,” he answered. “Listen, no offense, but I just want—”
“Go bother someone else,” came Gabriella’s voice.
Ana spun around as if the woman had slapped her. Gripping her cocktail glass to her breasts, she gave Finn a reluctant pout over her shoulder and waded past Gabriella to the pool’s stairs.
Javier’s wife watched her leave, one hip stuck out and a long fingernail tapping irritably against her thigh. She wore a full-length swimsuit, but one that swirled around her breasts and ass like a pair of commas, leaving her belly and back bare.
She turned, slunk into the water, and swam gracefully toward him. There were still shadows under her eyes, but she’d tidied her hair into an intricate knot on the top of her head and put mascara and lipstick on.
Hopefully, it was just a show for Javier’s men—and Javier, if she was expecting him to arrive.
“Evening, Mr. Finn,” she called out, loud enough for the sicarios gathered around the patio table to hear.
He shifted, throwing them a quick glance before turning back to Gabriella. She swam up beside him, slid her arms onto the pool’s edge, and gave him a neutral smile with her red mouth.
“Evening,” he said. “You sure this is the—”
“Of course not,” Gabriella said, her smile inching up. “But, out in the open, we don’t look as if we have something to hide.”
She moved a little closer, leaving one arm on the pool’s edge as she bobbed in the water beside him. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“Me?” Finn lifted his eyebrows at her. “I should be asking that of you.”
“I’m sure you are.” She glanced over her shoulder, and lifted a hand to snap her fingers at a servant passing through the entertainment room. The maid turned in their direction, dropped a curtsy, and disappeared deeper into the villa. “I guess the real question is, how can we trust each other?”
Finn clenched his jaw. “I don’t have time for this,” he said, pushing away from the edge. “If you can’t help us, then I’ll find someone who can.”
“That’s the problem with you Americans,” Gabriella said, trailing her long nails down his arm as he moved past her. “You’re always in such a hurry.”
He jerked his arm away from her, sending another glance over his shoulder. The two sicarios that faced toward the pool were both looking in their direction. Both turned their attention immediately back to their hands when he caught their eye.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he muttered, pausing to throw Gabriella a furious scowl.
“I’m seeing if I can trust you,” Gabriella said. “After all…” she moved closer to him, her dark eyes daring him to pull away when she laid a hand on his shoulder. “What reason could I possibly have for being in your company?”
Jesus Christ.
Finn drew a deep breath, did his best not to look back at Javier’s men, and murmured, “Can you help?”
She twisted a little, bringing her body up against him. “Do you think I want my son married to that little—” She cut off, eyes flaring as if realizing that finishing the sentence might not be wise. “Javier’s gone too far. I want her gone.”
“How?” Finn asked. He hesitated for a second, and then moved closer to her. “Tell me how.”
She turned her head to the side, studying him from the corner of her eye. Then she reached past him, a faint smile tugging at her mouth as she said, “Thank you, Veronica.”
Finn glanced to the side, watching as the servant from earlier crouched beside the pool with a serving tray.
It held a fluted champagne glass and a tumbler.
He was about to refuse the drink when Gabriella took it off the tray and handed it to him.
A double shot of Captain Morgans.
Finn snorted and took a long swallow.
He wasn’t even fucking surprised anymore.
38
My Capo
Lars spent a while explaining how Cora could conceal the small pistol he’d given her and how to draw it when she was sitting, standing, crouching. When he made her draw it again and again, she had a flashback to Finn watching her draw her pistol in that small motel in Alpine.
The night he’d kissed her.
The night she’d realized how much she’d wanted him.
Was that the night everything had changed? Had they both crossed some invisible line? Or had that come at the hot springs?
She blushed, remembering how incredible, and strange, and terrifying that night had been.
“Hey. Focus.”
Her eyes flashed back to Lars. He lifted his arm, pistol in his fingers, but then dropped it again. “Where’s your mind at?” he asked, coming up to her and sliding the pistol into the small of her back. It felt the most comfortable nestled there, but he’d told her to get used to wearing it in different positions.
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat, and then added, “Thank you.”
“For what, this?” He scoffed, waving an airy hand at her. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.”
She smiled at him, and then drew the pistol out and handed it back. He lifted his hands, frowning.
“Won’t you need it?” she asked.
“Keep it until we find another one for you.”
She looked up, and realized for the first time that the sun was about to set. “Where’s Finn?”
Lars shrugged. “Fucked if I know.” Then he sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned her over.
She hesitated for a second before joining him. He’d been nothing but professional when he’d been helping her, but something in his body language had changed.
“What is it?”
“How well do you know Gabriella?”
She shrugged. “Not at all.”
He nodded. “That’s what I thought. And what about this Neo guy?”
She shook her head. “Him neither. Why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Lars leaned back on his hands. “Yet.”
She drew a deep breath that completely failed to calm her. “You’re just as bad as Finn,” she said, getting to her feet.
Lars caught her wrist, urging her down again. “What did I do now?”
“Making decisions without me. Thinking I can’t handle stuff.” She swiped a hand in his direction. “Don’t you think I should have a say in what’s happening?”
“Easy, bunny,” Lars said with a laugh. “It’s nothing agains
t you perse…” He shrugged a little, lowering himself onto his elbows as he grinned at her. “It’s just…you’re a little young to be calling the shots, don’t you think?”
“Screw you!” She twisted to face him, pulling one leg up on the bed. “I know more about cartels and how they work than you’ll ever know!”
“But we’re not in a cartel, bunny.” Lars bent his head forward a little and whispered conspiratorially, “We’re trying to get you out of one, remember?”
“I just want out of here—” she waved a hand at the room. “This place. Out from Javier’s thumb.”
Lars pursed his lips, giving her a long, considering stare. “So you’re fine with being a capo? That something you think you can handle?”
She leaned forward on her hands, baring her teeth at him. “I should have the choice.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You’re right. You should.” He began toying with the coverlet where it undulated between them. “So…do you want to be capo?”
“I…” She sat back. “I don’t know.”
He dropped his gaze to his hand, tugging the coverlet’s fabric so he could twist it around his finger. “Think fast. It won’t be your decision for much longer.”
She watched him for the longest time, her lips brushing her shoulder as she bobbed her foot up and down where it hung over the side of the bed. He practically filled her king-sized bed, even with his legs over the side. As if feeling her eyes on him, he finally looked up. A knowing smile played over his mouth, but he remained silent; seeming happy to watch her watching him.
“This isn’t normal, is it?”
Lars’s lips quirked at her question. “None of it is, bunny.”
“I mean…you and Finn. Us.”
“Us?” he repeated with a smirk.
She blushed furiously then, whipping her head away so she could stare at the door. Why the hell had she brought this up? And with Lars of all people? She should be speaking to Finn about this, not—
Fingers brushed her wrist. She jerked, turning back to the man sprawled on her bed.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“No, don’t stop,” Lars murmured. “I like where this conversation is headed.”
“I should—”
“You want to know if it’s going to happen again, don’t you?” he said. His smile remained at that same, smug angle as before. “And you’re wondering how you can possibly be in a relationship with two men at the same time.”
She shook her head. Her blush was back, brighter and hotter than before. It seemed to amuse Lars more than her question had.
He tugged her down onto the bed, twisting the top half of his body over hers like a coiling snake before she could get out from under him.
“What—?”
“I locked the door,” he said.
That should have made her panic, right? But it didn’t. It made her skin tingle and her lips part and her breath become short and shallow.
“That’s not…I wasn’t saying we should—”
“You know…I thought I’d have a problem with sharing…But I guess there’s enough of Finn to go around,” Lars said. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I guess the bigger question here is, is there enough of you to go around?”
She gazed up at the man leaning over her. His eyelids flickered as he bent down and touched his lips to hers. She shivered, keeping her mouth still. Somehow trying to convince herself that this wasn’t happening. That she wasn’t this kind of person.
Screw it—maybe karma had overbalanced the scales with all this shit that had been coming her way the past few weeks. Or, maybe, this was her repaying everything Finn and Lars had been through to protect her. They deserved happiness, didn’t they? Even if she seemed destined to live a life of misery, she could at least give them some pleasure for everything they’d sacrifice for her.
Lars moved his lips down the side of her throat and grazed her collarbone with his teeth. “I wish I had time to tie you up,” he murmured as he slid a hand under her top and caressed the silky fabric of her bra. “Oh, the things I could do to you if you couldn’t fight back.”
He abandoned her breast, and tugged open her zipper. She bucked, her mouth wide open as she tried to draw breath.
Why did this still feel wrong? Was she really such a damn prude?
But then Lars brushed her clit with a fingertip, and sent a jolt of spine-tingling bliss shooting through her.
“I’m still not convinced about this whole capo thing,” Lars said, as he pushed himself up on his hands.
She let out an unsteady breath, squirmed under him, and clamped her thighs hard together. “Okay,” she managed. “But do we have to talk about that right now?”
“You think I can’t multitask?” Lars asked. He sat up and tugged her jeans down her legs so fast she let out a tiny gasp and tried to claw them back up. “Nuh-uh,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “You can’t have it both ways, bunny.”
“What do you mean?” God, she sounded as out of breath as if she’d swum fifteen laps.
Lars slapped away her hands, standing and tugging her jeans off. He dropped them to the floor, and looked down at her as if studying an interesting piece of art at a gallery.
She twined her legs together, twisting away from those piercing eyes as a blush heated her cheeks.
He tutted her, and sank to his knees in front of her. “You can’t be the boss out there and in here.”
“But I’m not the boss out there.” The words came out as a whine. She tried sitting up, but Lars pushed on her belly until she was flat again. “If I was, then sure, but everyone just—”
She cut off with a gasp when he took a thigh in each hand and forced her legs apart. She cringed, her hands fisting in the sheets beside her. When she tried closing her legs, he wedged his torso between them and gave her a predatorial smile.
“Well you can’t be the boss in here, so I guess you’ll have to throw your weight around somewhere else.”
“Lars, please…” But whether she was begging him to stop, or pleading with him to continue, who knew? Tingles spread out from her core as a cool breeze touched her.
He kissed the inside of her thigh, glanced up at her, and then slowly ran his tongue down the length of her opening. She shuddered, a gasp rattling through her.
“Seems to me,” Lars said, pausing to trail his fingers over her clit, “You think the world owes you something.”
“What?” she managed, lifting her head. Lars shoved his other hand over her top and squeezed hard at her breast. Her head collapsed back as he ran his tongue over her again. Harder, this time, and with the tip of his tongue in a point.
She moaned and twisted on the soft sheets.
“As much as this shit’s fallen into your lap, you still get to decide what to do with it.”
Another long, slow lick—and then he gave her a light slap right over her clit.
She yelped, again trying to close her legs, and giving him a shocked look. He wasn’t paying attention—not to her face, anyway. Her cheeks flashed hot with embarrassment, and she did her best to stop thinking about what she could possibly taste like.
“You could try and run away…”
A shock coursed through her as he slid two fingers inside her. Her eyes squeezed shut. When he drew his fingers out, she could feel wetness on them when he rubbed them over her.
Embarrassment turned to mortification.
She would spontaneously combust if he kept going like this.
“But we all know how well that worked out.” He shoved his fingers back inside her, and began massaging her clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, god,” Cora moaned, arching her back as he began working his fingers in and out of her. “Oh my fucking god.”
“Prayers won’t help you,” Lars said, using his thumb to rub her clit as he propped himself up with an elbow so he could stare over at her. “You gotta figure this out for yourself.”
“I don’t…no one listens�
��” But whatever she’d been trying to say fell apart when he added another finger to those thrusting in and out of her.
“So make them listen. You’re capo now, aren’t you?” He licked her clit, and then sucked so hard that a flash of pain shot through her. “Say it,” he murmured.
“It’s not that easy—”
He sucked her again, harder this time.
She cried out, grabbed his hair in a fist, and tried to pull him away. “Say it,” he said, twisting his head out of her grip.
“I’m…”
He sucked at her again, this time raking teeth over her too. She gasped, arching her back at the infuriating mixture of pleasure and pain bursting through her. She wanted it to stop, but she never wanted it to end.
“I’m…I’m capo!” she managed.
“Good girl,” Lars crooned, and gave her a soft, slow lick as if to reward her. “Now, what do capos do?”
“I don’t know!” She got up to her elbows, staring wide eyed at Lars. “They…they…”
He drew his fingers out of her, and used that wet hand to slap her. It stung furiously for a second before fading. “I don’t know!” she cried out. “They sell drugs?”
He laughed at her, and then slapped her again across her entrance. Her body caught fire, and she arched her back as she hissed at him.
“You’re over thinking this, bunny.”
“Stop calling me bunny,” she muttered through her teeth.
“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He gave her a hard rub with his hand and then climbed up on the bed.
She let out a short breath, blinking stars from her eyes. “Don’t call me that,” she said.
“What should I call you, then?”
“Not bunny.”
“I can call you what I want in here,” Lars said, and gently cupped his hand between her legs.
“No! You said—”
“Out there, bunny. Out there you call the shots,” he murmured as he dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. “But in here, we’re your masters.”
He squeezed her, slid a finger inside, and touched something that sent a burning pressure through her. She writhed under him, not sure if what she’d just felt was good or bad, pleasure or pain.
