No one dares to taunt me except my big brother, but this redhead likes to get on my nerves, and she’s good at it. Whenever she opens up that pretty mouth of hers, I’m anxiously waiting for whatever word waterfall will roll out because it amuses the shit out of me. Although I also know I will be pissed as soon as I’ve processed whatever preposterous thing she says.
She keeps me sharp.
She challenges me.
She keeps me on my game.
And there hasn’t been a game in a while. Lately, life has been monotonous and dull.
We work, we make money, we party, we get pussy. Then we wake up, we work some more, make some more money, we party some more, we get some more pussy. Since we get anything and everything we want with just one scowl, life has become tedious.
No one dares to defy us, no one dares to challenge us. Except this tiny thing.
I know throwing knifes at her head isn’t really the best way to gain her trust, but she takes my knife more seriously than me, and it’s fucking entertainment to get her pissed off. Plus, I know what the fuck I’m doing. Give me a knife and a target, and I will hit it one hundred percent of the time.
Just one of the skills I picked up during my military years.
I would never let her get hurt, though. At least, not until she serves her purpose.
I briefly glare over my shoulder to meet her fierce gaze.
“What?” she barks.
“Nothing,” I chuckle.
She huffs in annoyance, trailing behind me.
“Can you just stop being an asshole and tell me where we are going?”
“I could.”
“If I knew this before I would have—” Before she can finish her sentence, I abruptly turn around, making her crash right into my hard chest. My hands enclose her upper arms that fit there perfectly. She gasps at the motion, and her blue-green eyes look up at me through her thick lashes. The scent of her freshly washed hair enters my nose, and I have to resist burying my face in it. The heat of our bodies so close together makes me frazzled, so I blink a few times, trying to get my head straight.
“What? You would have ‘what’, baby?” I rumble while hiding my smile.
She bites her lip while exhaling loudly. The same confusion as I’ve seen before crawls across her face. Her eyes trail her hands that are still pressed against my chest, and I swear I can see a hint of a burning craving in them. I know because I have the same scorching feeling running through my body.
“What. Would. You. Have. Done?” I repeat. I encourage her to answer and take me seriously by gently squeezing her arms under my palms. She purses her lips and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, her attitude is all fired up.
There she is.
“I would have never slept with you in the fucking first place,” she growls with a certainty that surprises me. My eyes move back and forth, looking for the lies in her words. She’s a good bluffer. An excellent one. But you have to be if you want to rob rich people on a daily basis.
The corner of my mouth rises, and one hand reaches for her chin to stroke her perfect jaw.
“Bull. Shit,” I whisper against her mouth. I hear someone clear his throat behind me, and irritated, I roll my eyes.
“What?” I bark, never letting my eyes leave hers. She curiously tries to glance behind me, but I firmly keep her in place, pissing her off even more.
“He’s ready for you, sir,” one of my men responds.
“I’ll be right there.”
“He made sure I tell you that he doesn’t like to wait.”
“I. Will. Be. Right. There.”
“Yes, sir.” I wait for the sound of footsteps descending before I let go of her arms. Instinctively, I rub her arms to ease them from the firmness of my hands until her eyes find mine again.
“You’re being summoned,” she mocks with a relaxed grin. It startles me because it goes straight to my gut. I like her like this. It’s a look I haven’t seen before, and it suits her.
“I know.” I sigh, smiling back at her, pleased that the atmosphere between us has changed.
“Come on.” I throw my arm over her shoulder and walk her a few more steps down the hall to guide her into the massive living room. Her gaze flicks to the large dining table we just had breakfast on before looking up to me and suddenly stopping. Our bodies disconnect, and I’m immediately bothered by the empty feeling I’m left with.
“We just ate, I’m not hungry yet,” she says, shaking her head.
I ignore her and bend my knees before I press my shoulder against her stomach, successfully throwing her over my shoulder. She probably would have followed me if I asked her nicely, but you know what? I don’t want to ask her nicely.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she mutters with her hands on the small of my back. I’d expected her to throw one of her always enjoyable tantrums, but I guess she finally realizes they have no use. I walk to the right side of the room and throw her on the middle of the large, gray, U-shaped couch. Her eyes widen when her back falls against the cushions.
“You sit. Watch some TV,” I suggest while I toss her the remote. “Someone will come get you in a few minutes.”
She abruptly stands back up and opens her mouth, most likely to give me a piece of her mind.
“I don’t respond to commands, remember?”
I roll my eyes at her before I quickly cup her face and press my lips against hers, effectively shutting her up. I tell myself that is the reason for kissing her, but really, she had me longing for more since she did the same thing while butt naked with nothing more than a soaking wet towel between us. I feel the urge to give her my tongue, but I know I will not be able to resist anything that comes after that, not that I don’t want to, but I have shit to do right now. I move my head back and lock on to her glowing eyes. They have softened, like kissing her made the rage leave her body.
“Don’t fight me on this one, baby girl.” My voice is raspy but serious as I try to focus on not putting my lips against hers again. “Just watch some TV and wait until someone comes to get you.” I softly press a kiss on her nose before I push her back down once more. “You. Sit,” I tell her again before I move my feet towards the conference room, needing to create space between us.
I grab the golden handle to open the door and walk into the conference room. The room is spacious and has a big, white wooden table in the middle that could easily hold a board meeting for at least twenty people.
Not like we ever have.
Just like the other rooms on the yacht, it has floor to ceiling windows, making it appear even larger than it really is. Liam is seated in a roomy, white leather desk chair on the other side of the room at the head of the table, checking his phone. His gray sneakers are resting on the table, and his lips are pressed together in displeasure. He throws his phone on the table when he sees me and crosses his arms in front of his chest while shooting me a glare. I keep the grin plastered to my face because I can’t seem to get it off. He’s wearing a t-shirt that shows off the tattoos on his right arm. He likes to pretend he is sophisticated and controlled, but really he’s just like me. I just see no reason to hide it.
“You’re late, jackass.”
I look at my watch and pretend to give a fuck before I meet his morose face.
“I’m sorry, do you have another appointment?”
“The fuck is with that grin plastered on your face?”
“Nothing.” I shrug before I plant myself on the chair beside him and mimic his posture.
He narrows his eyes and his jaw tightens, clearly not believing what I’m saying.
“It’s that she-devil, isn’t it?” he groans, his words dripping with hatred.
I wave his comment away while rolling my eyes.
“Oh, stop whining, dipshit. Just call the fucking pendejo and get this over with. I’ve got a damsel in distress waiting to be seduced in to betraying her daddy.” I waggle my eyebrows at his glare.
He swings his feet off the table and lea
ns his arms on it before reaching for the black sat-phone in front of him.
“Jesus Christ, you’re unbelievable,” he mutters as he dials the number, then puts it on speaker. Within seconds, the dial tone echoes through the room. He answers after three rings.
“I’m guessing you’re the asshole who has my daughter?” His voice is raw from the amount of cigarettes he’s known to smoke combined with the fact that he is double my age. His Spanish accent is noticeable even though his English is as perfect as his daughter’s. I still don’t understand how Callie can be his daughter. It’s the weirdest thing ever to put that feisty redhead with her teal eyes and fair skin in the same gene pool as her Hispanic father and brother. Their hair is black with dark brown eyes that match their Mediterranean, olive skin tone.
“I am,” I answer with the same grin on my face. “How have you been, Frank?”
“Kane,” he sighs loudly, recognizing my voice. “Where are you, Carrillo?”
The desperation in his voice tells me he can’t find us. He’s got to be searching, but he never guessed to look on the water. Which is exactly what I wanted, to make him run around in circles. Like a dog chasing his own tail. Liam and I exchange a pleased look.
“You’re asking the wrong questions, Frank.” I know he is trying to keep me on the phone as long as possible, hoping he can trace the call. But we are the Carrillo brothers, so he’s wasting his time. We have all the money in the world and the best people in their field working for us. People who left the CIA because they would rather work for us. I can talk for hours and my tech guy will still send him on a wild goose chase.
He keeps quiet for a few moments, probably thinking about a way to baffle us. He can’t. No one can. Many have tried. All of them failed, the majority paying for it with their life.
“You want your diamonds back?” he finally asks.
Liam looks at me with triumph, and I chuckle in response.
“Not just our diamonds, I want it all.”
He huffs in shock.
“That is a little much, don’t you think?”
“Depends on what your daughter’s life is worth,” I counter.
I can hear him take a deep breath, clearly pissed.
Good.
So are we.
The tension is palpable, and I let him squirm as I remain quiet. Real men don’t feel the need to fill up the silence. Real men thrive on whatever is not said during a conversation.
“The Rustenburg Diamonds and The Griff Pink,” he offers.
It is a good offer. Almost one hundred million worth of diamonds, the pink diamond being almost as exquisite as the ruby Rustenberg Diamonds our grandmother left us. If we were just robbing him, we would probably have agreed with it. But we aren’t just robbing him.
This is personal.
The biggest problem is the fact that we didn’t start this. He decided to steal from the Carrillo brothers, so now we have to teach him a lesson. We have to set an example for everyone who is even considering screwing the Carrillos over. Take what is ours and you will pay the price. Double.
“The Rustenburgs, The Griff, The Ocean Blue rings, and the Russian jewelry,” Liam states like he is ordering hot dogs at a football stadium. The bored look on his face shows how those things are basically the same thing to my older, sadistic brother when it comes to the Reyes family. Nothing more than an order to place.
“That is one hundred and fifty million in stones,” Frank replies incredulously. Like we’re not aware of their worth.
“That is the price you pay for stealing from a Carrillo,” I explained simply. “And the price you pay to get your daughter back. If you want her back. If not, we can leave it at this. She is a pretty little thing, and I wouldn’t mind keeping her in my bed until I get bored with her.”
The line goes silent for a while, and I wonder if he passed out or something.
“This is payback for that stunt Junior and Cristina pulled, isn’t it?”
Liam lets out an evil chuckle and glares at the phone.
“You’re damn right it is.”
Frank lets out a resigned breath. He knows there is no way back.
“How do I know she is still alive?”
I knew this question was coming because he would be stupid not to ask for proof of life.
I snap my fingers at one of our guys at the door and watch him open it before Callie is escorted in. She glares at both of us, pissed that she was summoned like a dog.
Liam moves his head towards her, an evil smirk on his face.
“Hi, sweetheart, your Dad wants to talk to you.”
12
Callie
Four Days Ago
The car ride to his hotel goes quicker than I’d expected, but longer than I want.
I can’t stop kissing this man.
I jumped him in the back of his all black Range Rover, intending to ride him like a fucking mustang, but he won’t put out.
“There is no way I’m giving you a quick fuck in the back of my car. I’m going to take my sweet time with you, baby,” he growled in between our scorching kisses.
Of course, that only made me want him more.
Son of a bitch.
He has no problem kissing strangers in elevators, yet all of a sudden he is the classy one?
Yeah, right.
A few minutes later, we almost fall through the door of his hotel room, unable to break our connection. The taste of bourbon on his tongue mixed with the citrus smell of his scent has had me hypnotized and longing for more since I pressed my lips on his in front of the bar.
The angel on my shoulder is telling me he is bad news.
Straight up trouble.
But I don’t give a flying fuck.
He isn’t your typical corporate asshole. No, he is the kind of asshole that lurks in the shadows. The kind who makes his own laws because government laws do not apply to him.
Sort of like Ronnie, but hot as fuck.
I need to keep a low profile, so any other day of the week I wouldn’t even dare touching a man like this. Running around with criminals makes my job of robbing the rich that much harder. No one will trust me if I’m seen on the arm of a Distucci or hanging on the lips of a tattooed badass like this one.
But since these might be my last days of freedom, I figure I may as well indulge. As soon as he basically promised me to fuck me like no one has, my mind just screamed fuck it.
Fuck him. Do it now. Stop wasting time, you horny slut.
If this is going to be the last decent fuck before I’m doomed to be Italian livestock, it may as well be with the hottest piece of man meat I’ve ever seen. So far, he has lived up to his words. Our clothes are still on, but just straddling him in the backseat while feeling his tongue invading my mouth almost made me come undone.
I hear the door slamming shut, then he abruptly pushes me away. I widen my eyes at the sudden move.
“What?” I pout, wanting to yank him back to my lips.
The corner of his mouth rises in a boyish grin.
Damn, he is so sexy.
I bet he has a long list of the hearts he’s broken over the years. He lifts his hand to cup my cheek and rubs his thumb over my lips while he bites his own.
“You want a drink?” he asks before he walks towards the liquor tray on the other side of the room. I spin on the spot, stunned that he thinks this is the best time for a break.
“No, I think I’ve had enough,” I reply, annoyed as I look around the room. The carpet I’m standing on is burgundy red and matches the red and gold furniture of the seating area in front of me. On the left side of the room is a staircase leading up to another floor that has an open hallway with a steel vintage balustrade. I almost drop my jaw when I glance behind me. There is a dining room with classic wooden chairs and a huge Swarovski chandelier hanging above it. Under the staircase is another door, while next to the dining room is a hallway leading to God knows what. It only takes me a second to realize where the fuck I am.
&nb
sp; The presidential suite. Holy crap on a cracker.
“What is it that you do for a living?” I ask cautiously, narrowing my eyes at him. I don’t feel unsafe, but now that I’m seeing where he chooses to stay when he is in town, I have a feeling I’m dealing with an even bigger fish than I’d thought. He splashes the amber liquid in a glass before he swallows it down his throat all at once. I never thought swallowing could be a sexy thing to watch, but hot damn.
He saunters back to me, reaching out his hand. I glance at it before my eyes move back to his, looking for an answer to my question even though my gut tells me I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter; I tell myself. I’m already waist deep in Italian shit. This guy isn’t going to drown me in anything that could be worse. I’m sure Ronnie will make sure he’s the one pushing my head under water as soon as he has the chance.
“You don’t really want an answer to that question, do you?” he asks with the same boyish grin. His voice is a low rumble, and I swear just the tremor of it could make me leak on this expensive carpet. “You just really want to be fucked until you see stars. And that is exactly what I’m going to do right now.”
That dirty talk, sweet mother of Jesus.
He quickly grabs my hand and roughly tugs me into his hard chest before he cups my ass and lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his body. I know I’m a small thing, but he just carries me around like I don’t weigh anything. You know that game you used to play in high school? Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board? Well, I’m light as a motherfucking feather, and he is fucking stiff as a board.
Or at least the cock pressing against my aching pussy is.
“No more talking, baby. I just want to hear you scream my name.” He crashes his lips against mine then roughly yanks my hair from its elastic band, freeing my ponytail, giving him more room to fist my hair and pull my head back. His lips move to my neck where he harshly scrapes my skin with his teeth. The dominance in his move shocks me but turns me on even more. I lay my forehead against his shoulder, giving him more access to my neck, enjoying his lips, tongue and teeth on my skin while we walk us upstairs to his bedroom.
Chasing Fire (The Fire Duet Book 1) Page 10
