Blurred Red Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel

by Kenborn, Cora

“What are you doing?” The man was a master manipulator and knew how to push my buttons. Figuring out whether we were having a civil conversation or if he was trying to bait me proved impossible.

  He paused, his bloody shirt balled in his hands. “I’m getting dressed for dinner at the White House, Cereza. What the hell does it look like I’m doing? I need to shower. Almost being blown up will do that to you.”

  I forced my stare away from his defined abs and narrow hips. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Blowing a rough breath out, I took two steps toward the room I’d been sleeping in, when a strong hand wrapped around my upper arm.

  “Eden, wait. You know I couldn’t let my men see that side of us.”

  Pride overrode the electricity from his touch. “What? No friendly pat-down this time? Maybe you’d prefer a fist-bump, instead?” Smirking, I held out my fist in front of his bare chest, poised and ready. When he just stared at me, I pursed my lips, and raised it higher. “You just going to leave me hanging, bro?”

  Lowering his eyes to glare at my clenched fingers, he mumbled a few low curses in Spanish before engulfing my much smaller fist with his own and jerking me into his broad chest. In a similar motion as when he opened the door, his arm snaked around my lower back, but this time, instead of a light pat, his large palm spread across my ass, gripping it tightly before lifting upward and hauling me flush against him.

  “You know what I’d prefer, Cereza?” he growled, his voice laced with a tinge of threat.

  “A shower?” Our lips, a whisper apart, grazed with each word we spoke.

  Fire burned in his eyes. “For starters.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him to go fucking take one when he pinned our entwined fists to the side of my head and plunged his tongue past my lips. Startled, his incessant demands overpowered me as our mouths fought for dominance.

  Gasping for air from his onslaught, my free arm wound itself in his disheveled hair, tugging at the out-of-place strands as I pressed my body closer against him. Simultaneous groans poured into each other as the hand clutching my ass gave an insistent shove inward, my stomach pressing hard against an impatient erection begging to be released.

  Pants became moans as Val slid his lips across my jaw and down my throat. I arched my back, physically unable to get any closer, but trying regardless.

  What the hell was happening to me? Five minutes ago, he treated me like the lights flickered after last call, and he’d seen exactly what he had been about to take home and changed his mind. Now, he kissed me like he wanted to crawl inside me and hibernate for the winter.

  Releasing my fist, his hand trailed by my lips then grazed the buttons at the top of my shirt, popping them one by one.

  “I thought…” Swallowing hard, I groaned as he sucked the top of my breast into the heat of his mouth. “I thought…ah, fuck, I don’t remember what I thought.” Leaning my head back, I gripped his hair hard, unable to contain the lusty whimper when his tongue trailed across the length of my chest.

  “Eden…” His hands skimmed up my ribcage with fierce intent. I’d barely taken a breath when he fisted each side of my shirt below the collar and jerked outward, buttons flying in opposite directions as he raked his eyes down my bare chest.

  Okay, so I didn’t wear a bra. Maybe I had plans.

  His eyes darkened right before lowering his mouth and latching it around a nipple. Chanting his name over and over, I all but threw myself in a full backbend, giving him access to whatever he wanted and more. Without warning, his hands slid under my ass again, lifting me around his waist until I wrapped my legs around his back and then claimed my mouth once more.

  Without breaking the frantic kiss, he carried me back to the shower I’d left just hours earlier. Reaching inside with one arm, he turned on the water and set me on the counter. Within seconds, he had what was left of his shredded pants and my borrowed boxers on the floor. The moment I laid eyes on him, standing proud and naked in front of me, my heart sped up and blood swooshed a pounding pace through my ears.

  He was beautiful—all man, all hard, artfully decorated from head to toe in inked symbols and designs. Strong, muscular thighs and a toned hardened chest met in the middle at washboard abs that lead directly to the most impressive cock I’d ever seen.

  And I’d seen a lot of cock.

  The first time Val and I were together, it was angry. Somehow, we were punishing each other—a combination of resentment about our mutual situations and resentment over the fact that we even wanted each other in the first place. The whole thing had been so frantic and rushed, I never took notice of anything other than the fact that it felt like nothing I’d ever experienced.

  Plus, he’d had me cuffed, and I couldn’t touch him. So, that was the first thing I did.

  He watched me through half-lidded eyes as I took him in my hands, stroking from the base to tip with slow, purposeful movements. “What the hell are you doing to me, Eden?” he rasped, twining both hands in my hair.

  “Meaning?” I asked, still pumping him.

  “I’m a goddamn Carrera, and you’re…ah, Christ…” He bit his lip and pulled the strands still wound around his fingers. “You’re bringing me to my knees.”

  Val’s eyelids closed, and a surge of power rushed through me, inciting an insatiable desire to literally bring him to his knees—by dropping to mine.

  Sliding off the counter, I hit the bathroom tile, and his eyes popped open in shock. “Not yet,” I warned. “But give me a few minutes and I’ll do my best.”

  Focusing on my end game, I braced a hand on each ass cheek and took him in deep. His hand held forcefully to my hair as he threw his head back and groaned.

  “Don’t stop…Jesus…”

  I’d never been one to enjoy a blow job, per se. It just wasn’t my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a bitch in bed. I wasn’t about to say ‘thanks for the lick and tickle,’ and not return the favor. That was just rude.

  But the power trip I had over this man fucked with my head.

  Val’s hands wound so tight around my hair, my eyes watered. His breath hitched, and with a growl, he rambled incoherent Spanish, finally breaking into broken English as he shook.

  “Dios mío…fuck, yes!”

  If I didn’t have a handful of ass, I’d fist pump the air.

  “Quiero hacerte el amor lentamente, Cereza.” Pulling me up by my shoulders, he wrapped one arm under my ass and cradled the other around my head, lifting me into the shower and under the steamy stream of water.

  For half an hour, we soaped, washed, caressed, kissed, and touched each other. The one thing we didn’t do was speak. In any other situation, I may’ve felt awkward and used by the silence. But as he stared hard into my eyes, allowing me to wash his injuries, clean them, and inspect his bruises, I knew words weren’t needed. Something shifted in that shower as we built a level of trust and crossed an invisible line.

  Tracing the cuts marring his skin, I trailed my fingers across his back, once again taking note of the massive canvas that told a very personal story I wasn’t privy to. I knew if he wanted me to know, he’d tell me himself, but curiosity tore at me. Deciding not to ruin the peaceful moment between us, I continued my inspection and nestled in front of him, his body ready for me.

  Wrapping my legs around Val’s waist, my mouth rounded for a silent scream as he plunged inside, thrusting as he cradled my face. The water from overhead poured into it, spilling from the corners the moment we both tumbled over the edge.

  With a soundless union, I realized that life as I knew it was over.

  * * *

  As the sun broke over the horizon, I listened to Val’s steady heartbeat, my ear pressed firmly against his heart. We lay in the full-sized bed he’d been sleeping in since we arrived at the new safe house, our limbs tangled around each other, my cheek draped across another intricate tattoo scrawled across the width of his chest. It depicted skulls and knives and words in Spanish I didn’t understand. It was gruesome and fascinati
ng.

  “How did you make it out of there?”

  His arm tightened around me. “What do you mean?”

  My eyes followed my fingertip as it traced a line down his stomach toward his navel. “Mateo said it was a bomb, Val. Nothing withstood the blast, but you. How in the hell did you walk away from that?”

  I’d been afraid to ask the question up until now. Seeing him standing at the door in one piece had been enough at the time to quell any need for explanation, but lying next to him, the reality of what could have happened crushed me under its weight.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “Would you’ve been upset if I hadn’t made it back?”

  Dipping my finger into the crevice of his belly button, I shrugged with mock indifference. “I wouldn’t say upset, but arguing with myself isn’t nearly as entertaining.”

  My cheek bounced as his chest rumbled with low laughter. “Cereza, that mouth of yours, sometimes I wonder if…” He trailed off as if he’d spoken out of turn, his voice abruptly shutting down.

  Lifting my head, I balanced my chin on his breastbone, staring into conflicted pools of molten chocolate. “Something wrong?”

  Shaking his head, he sat up and leaned over the bed, fumbling with the few clothes we’d discarded in the adjoining bathroom. Watching the intricate movement of his body as he twisted, and the way each defined muscle in his back contracted and tightened with the reaction of another, my skin flushed with rising heat. Sitting up, I tugged the sheet up to my neck and held it with a death grip.

  My emotions swung on a pendulum, one minute screaming for his touch, the next, petrified and ashamed because I wanted it. No sane woman would willingly crawl in bed with a criminal. A confessed murderer. A drug trafficker. A man capable of unspeakable things.

  “Hey,” Val ran a rough hand across my jaw and settled at the back of my neck. “Where’d you go?”

  “Huh?”

  “You spaced out there for a minute.”

  Val and I were explosive. Unable to keep our hands off each other, when we joined forces, the moment was enough to shake the foundation of anyone’s psyche. Which is exactly why I had to get away from him. I promised myself I’d never blindly fall for another man, and I was falling hard for Val Carrera.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him with a half-hearted smile. “Just tired.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie.

  I watched as he settled back into bed, immediately wrapping his arms back around me in a protective hold. The instant feeling of security confused me, but I pushed it aside and focused on his tightly clenched fist.

  “What’s that?”

  A slow grin spread across his face. It was the same devastating grin I’d watched for every time he’d walk into the cantina and sat at the far barstool on the left corner. “Protection.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pushed away from his hold. “Again? Jesus, Danger…are you part machine?”

  His eyes crinkled as a low chuckle rose to full-chested laughter. Grabbing me around the waist, I barely had time to think before he had me on my back, pinned underneath him as his knees rested on the outside of my thighs. With one palm pressed into the mattress by my head, he held his fisted hand high above my forehead.

  “Not that kind of protection, Cereza.” A flicker of something I couldn’t put my finger on crossed his eyes. As I looked into them I knew they’d seen more destruction than entire cities combined. The cords in his neck tightened as he opened his hand, and a long chain dropped from his palm, the rounded base swinging above my nose. “This kind.”

  I recognized it immediately.

  “Oh, my God, that’s my…?”

  “I can’t explain it, either. Every man near that stash house is dead. The building is gone, and my car is a pile of ash, but somehow, I walked away from it all. Moments before the blast, I pulled this out of my pocket by accident, and I remembered what you said about it protecting me.” The corners of his mouth turned down as he stared at the St. Michael medallion intently. “I’m not a religious man, Cereza, but stupid as it sounds, something told me to put it on. Now, whether that something was my own paranoia, you inside my head, or this fictitious God I keep hearing about…I don’t know. All I do know is I’m here with you, and those other men’s families are burying what’s left of them.”

  His confession grounded me. I couldn’t speak as I stared at the medallion, swinging from his crooked finger. Was it a sign? Did I even believe in signs anymore? What the hell did I believe?

  “You made it back because you’re indestructible, Val Carrera.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a private thought, meant only for him. “I made it back because I had someone to come back for, Eden Lachey.”

  His tenderness threw me. I wanted his anger as an escape and to prove to myself what we were doing was a temporary product of my confinement and grief. But as he whispered my name, I found my fingers sliding up the length of his arm, twining around the chain still dangling from his hand.

  Val’s eyes shifted, watching with a strange fascination. In a surprise move, he entwined our fingers, as the medallion enclosed tightly in between our palms. Lowering his body, he stared at my mouth a moment or two before brushing his lips against one corner, then to the other. With his chest against mine, I felt his heart pound with either anticipation or fear.

  I understood both.

  With an unhurried calmness I’d never seen from Val, he cradled my cheek in his palm and delivered a slow, powerful kiss, exploring as he tasted, caressing as he licked.

  No frenzy. No blinding need.

  As his lips traced the shell of my outer ear, my mind raced, confused at this ruthless killer who held me as if I were the most breakable piece of priceless china in the world.

  “What did you say before?”

  Pausing, a hot wave of his breath filled my ear. “Before?”

  I nodded. “In the bathroom…when I, uh…well, you said it in Spanish.” I had no idea what the hell I was saying. Random words short-circuited from my brain to my mouth, attempting to reconcile the shift in his behavior.

  His fingers tightened around mine. “Quiero hacerte el amor lentamente. It means I want to make love to you slowly.”

  With five words in a language I didn’t understand, I let go. “Then do it.”

  I’d never been touched as gently and reverently in my life. Val took his time, kissing any and everything, making sure nothing felt rushed or impatient. He did exactly as he wanted. He made love to me slowly. Purposely. Passionately. Intensely.

  He held me through our combined cries, his arms woven around me long after sleep claimed him. But sleep hadn’t come for me and wouldn’t for a long time. As we lay wrapped around each other, I realized with stark clarity, at that moment, Val Carrera was the most vulnerable he’d been since the moment I awoke, cuffed to a metal bed.

  There couldn’t have been a more perfect opportunity to escape to my long-desired freedom. I wasn’t restrained. The door wasn’t chained. Get dressed and leave—it was that simple.

  But it wasn’t that simple. Because for all that had broken me in the since walking into Caliente, I didn’t want to.

  Staring up at the ceiling, I silently cursed myself for becoming entangled with a man I had no intention of leaving.

  Chapter Twenty

  VAL

  The whole morning Eden and I kept our distance as we packed up what little we’d brought with us. A few stolen glances were all we allowed ourselves as my men cleared out any trace of our presence the past few days.

  As a residence, the place was a piece of shit, but I’d be lying if I said leaving it didn’t give me mixed feelings. It was the place I’d brought Eden to as a prisoner and was leaving as a willing companion.

  I still had a hard time processing the thought or even beginning to rationalize it.

  She had every opportunity to leave in the middle of the night. I awoke this morning, half-
expecting to find the bed empty beside me. It didn’t take but a moment to feel her warm skin still pressed against me, resting peacefully. Well, as peaceful as one could be after all I’d put her through.

  “Is that everything?” Tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans, Mateo glanced from me to Eden, his eyes questioning but silent.

  Smart man.

  “Yeah, we didn’t bring much,” I answered, scratching the back of my head.

  Eden snorted in front of me. “I didn’t bring anything, warden.”

  Surprised at her outburst, I shot her a look across the room, ready for a fight, only to be rewarded with a secretive wink.

  Well played, Cereza.

  After the stash house explosion, Mateo thought it best not to remain in one place for too long. I couldn’t have agreed more. In this stationary target, we were sitting ducks, weakened by the four walls surrounding us. I was the boss of an entire stateside cartel, but up until now, I’d only given a shit about my own life. My own personal creed involved one simple rule—keeping my ass away from the wrong end of a gun.

  Since crashing into Eden, my creed had been twisted beyond recognition.

  Ushering us outside, Mateo climbed into the front seat of the black SUV. Two men followed suit and the rest dispersed into other vehicles as decoys, in case of an ambush. I made sure not to touch Eden unnecessarily, lightly pressing my fingers onto her shoulder as I guided her into the backseat.

  I swallowed hard as she bent over. Her ass, now covered in the tiny white shorts I had one of Mateo’s men borrow from his wife, pressed close to my face. The tight blue half shirt did nothing to calm my raging hard-on, growing by the second.

  I’d asked for some decent clothes for her to wear. He brought me indecent with a side of torture.

  I felt like a presidential caravan hauling ass down a highway toward nowhere. To the casual onlooker, we were nothing, but to me we were a glaring eyesore—a Muñoz flare just begging to be fucked with. I had a bad feeling about the entire operation.

  Mumbles from the front carried to the back, as I heard Mateo and Emilio exchanging a play by play of their communication with the other SUVs. I watched their eyes shift back and forth to each other, their hands intermittently wiping a brow or gripping the wheel and dashboard.