How did he look better and better each time I saw him? He scooted his chair back and mouthed “Sit.”
I made my way to him and perched on his lap, resting my cheek on his shoulder. His conversation was in rapid Portuguese, so I couldn’t follow. I distracted myself by trailing my fingers over his stubble and through his thick, slightly damp hair. The smell of his cologne tickled my nose.
He put the phone on speaker and sat it on his desk, adjusting me so my back was flush with his chest. He never broke conversation even as his lips skimmed over my neck and he pulled my robe down my shoulders. My bra was unclasped, exposing me entirely. He slid his hands upwards from my hips, sliding them across my chest to firmly cup my breasts.
I pressed back, adding pressure on his growing erection and giving better access to my neck.
His thumbs grazed my nipples gently before he pinched them, forcing me to hold back a whimper.
He slid his hands down my torso, parting my legs with one and bringing the other between them, circling my clit with soft teasing strokes before sliding his fingers into my wet pussy, keeping his thumb on my swollen nub.
I turned my head to hide a moan, placing my hands on the arms of his desk chair for support. He ended his call and increased the speed of his fingers, holding me in place with one hand taking hold of my throat.
“You want me to fuck you amada?”
He added another finger, curling them upward into the sweet spot inside me.
“Yes,” I gasped as he continued to pump his digits inside me.
“How bad do you want to feel my cock inside you? How do you want it?”
He swept his tongue over the juncture where my neck met my shoulder, nipping the skin and bringing forth a loud moan.
“Badly. I want to feel you inside me.”
He bit my ear lobe, deliberately blowing on the skin.
“I want you to fuck me…hard, please, please, fuck me.”
He laughed darkly beneath his breath, beginning to toy with my clit again. I was usually inept at speaking the crass words he so easily provoked from my mouth. I could feel my body climbing a peak. Slight tremors shook my legs as arousal pooled between my thighs, his fingers making sloshing sounds as they slammed in and out of me.
“How hard minha beleza?”
“God,” I groaned, maneuvering my hips to work his fingers deeper, feeling heat slowly creep down my spine.
“Fuck me hard, Mateo, I want you to break me.”
“Good girl.” He let go of my throat and forced me to turn my head, sealing his mouth over mine in a hungry kiss, biting my lower lip and working his fingers harder.
He slipped one hand beneath us and undid his belt, working to free his cock. I reached down between us and gripped the base, angling myself above him, spreading my legs wider and slowly sinking down, still facing the opposite direction.
“No, not like this.” He stood lifting me off him and roughly turning me around. His eyes were dark with intensity. He cupped the back of my head and used the other hand to pull me into his body.
His lips met mine. The kiss was bruising and frenzied. He edged me back and lifted me up onto his desk, knocking a stack of papers on the floor.
He removed his shirt before spreading my legs wider and climbing between them. He held his cock at my entrance and pushed in all the way to the hilt. I gasped, grabbing thick handfuls of his hair.
I looked between us, my arousal building at the sight his dick driving in and out of me, his muscles tensing with every thrust. He made me feel so full.
Digging my nails into his back, he started fucking me harder, causing the desk to start inching out of place. I was coming in record time, crying out his name and raking my fingers down his spine.
He followed after me––stiffening with a groan as he violently came inside me. Careful not to crush me completely, he leaned down trailing kisses from my forehead to my jaw-line and back to my lips.
There was a rare gentleness in his wild tiger eyes he looked down at me. He smoothed strands of hair away from my forehead.
“I have an idea,” he said after a moment.
“Hm?” was all I could manage, still trying to come down from my orgasmic bliss.
“I’m going to make a few phone calls, and then you and I are going out. But first I’m going to fuck you in every room of this house.”
“But your house is huge.”
“Then it’s a challenge.” He kissed my cheek and stood, taking me with him in his arms.
He was going to ruin me––I could feel it.
Chapter Twelve
“So you have nothing?”
A swallow filled the silence.
I steeped my fingers beneath my chin and looked up at the smooth metal ceiling. My back was cushioned by a solid metal chair.
The only thing separating the man from me was the wooden table between us. I had rooms in the stables designed specifically with the intent to kill, maim, and torture whoever needed to be dealt with.
The man before me had been given the pleasure of seeing one. He’d pissed himself while I was at dinner the night before. The smell of dry ammonia was grating on nerves I was vastly losing. His hair was a greasy mess. His blue eyes bloodshot. He looked like he’d gone through hell, and I hadn’t even done anything yet.
“But you said you were the best. You said you could track down what I wanted.” I repeated everything he’d told me our first meeting in a mocking tone.
“And he tacked on ten percent,” Elias added from his post against the wall.
“He’s also a week late,” Sergio said, standing just over my shoulder. He was one of the very rare individuals I trusted to be behind me.
“I need a little more time,” his brittle voice rasped. He flinched when a scream sounded from somewhere else in the building.
“More time.” I stood and made my way to where we kept all the essentials one would need to make someone speak.
I was more into torture of the mind, making someone slowly insane over a period of time. But sometimes I got my hands dirty, too. I grabbed a meat cleaver and industrial butane lighter.
“I gave you access to my city.” I sat the lighter down on the table. “I gave you all the resources you needed, your ten percent, and free reign to do whatever you needed to get the job done. Why do I have nothing from you but a grievance for more time?” I sat the meat cleaver down. He opened his mouth to speak. I held up a hand to silence him.
“Your wife, your brother, and your sister-in-law were removed from their homes last night and are on their way here. Let me refresh your memory. You’re looking for Brock Miles. He has a black leather book that was given to him by a whore.
“The book belongs to someone close to me, and they want it back. Now, would you like two weeks or three to find him, the book, and save your family?”
“T-t-three.”
I smiled. Such a dumb fucker.
Elias and Sergio moved into position each grabbing a side of him and forcing out one of his hands.
“No, please––,” his brittle voice turned into a high pitched shriek as I brought the cleaver down on all his fingers, excluding the pinky and one where his wedding band sat. My finely honed blade went clean through the flesh and bones, disconnecting all three with ease.
“Collateral.” I explained over his yells of pain. “You have three weeks now. You deliver and you can have them back. I’ll keep them in my toolbox for safekeeping.” Ignoring the blood, I picked up the lighter, flicked on the flame and brought it right to his freshly gaping wounds to cauterize them.
If possible, he screamed louder.
The smell of burnt flesh and blood quickly filled the space between us, making my nose burn. His shoulders slumped, and his head lolled as he passed out from the pain. I didn’t stop until the bloody flesh was scabbed and inflamed.
“Sergio, wake him up and dump him back in the city. I’m sure he’ll work much more efficiently this time around. Elias, come with me.”
“Do you think whoever has it will be able to decipher it?” my brother asked, falling into step beside me.
“It would take someone with significant common sense to do that. The point is finding it before that can happen.”
“Too bad Eva couldn’t do the right thing for a change,” he grumbled.
“I’m sure she deeply regrets her decision right about now, considering her new accommodation.”
“What about Elena? Do you think she knows anything about it, you said she had an ulterior motive.”
“Elena’s main motive is finding her sister. I’ve known that from the beginning. Why she chose to get close to me was another story. She has yet to make any moves trying to figure out Eva’s whereabouts but that may be because she isn’t a fan of the lifestyle.” I climbed inside a UTV and waited for him to situate himself.
“So what are you going to do with her?”
“I’m going to drag her into it head-first and start the game.”
“So cold-hearted,” he laughed. “You ever think maybe she remembers who you are on a sub-conscious level?”
I didn’t reply to that.
“We’re going out,” I said instead.
Chapter Thirteen
The land of dreams so easily turned people into fiends.
Encore was a nightclub unlike anything I had ever seen. It was one wide, giant bronze tower. There was a luxury hotel and two restaurants attached to it.
The club itself was three stories with an outdoor pool surrounded by two story cabanas. It was plush, with deep purple and gold interior.
The chandeliers were in the shape of hammocks. Laser infused lights lit up the massive dance floor. The place was packed with high-rollers.
I saw the basic bottle service started at fifteen-hundred dollars, and while that was the equivalent of an old Abe Lincoln for these people, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it, and that was with access to my family’s accounts.
Mateo had sent me ahead of him with Melody and Peyton, saying he’d call for us.
My thin halter style dress had a deep V and was backless, hitting just below the full-on slutty spectrum. My hair was twisted in a chic bun and I’d skipped wearing underwear.
Even after being fucked all day I still wanted more.
“What are you looking for?” Melody yelled above the music, adjusting her purple bandage dress to plump up her cleavage.
“My usual,” I yelled back, grinning around the salted rim of my margarita in reference to Mateo.
She laughed and went back to scouting.
“What about you?”
“Someone’s daddy,” she responded, downing her drink in one go.
“You two are a terrible influence. Come dance with me.” Peyton took our empty glasses, sat them down, then began pulling us to the lower level where the less crowded dance floor was. Between drinking, dancing, and a group bathroom trip or two, time flew. I was well on my way to tipsy, cursing my iron tolerance for the delay.
It was when we were on our way back to our table for a break that a hostess intervened.
“Miss Rias, I need you and your friends to come with me, please.” Without waiting for our response, the woman spun on her heel and began walking away.
We shared a look.
“Miss Rias.” Her sharp tone reached back to me over the music when I had yet to move.
The woman sashayed her way to a black elevator for employees only. She inserted a silver key and the doors engaged. We stepped in, and she hit the button for floor four.
“We look badass,” Melody giggled, much more inebriated than me, gesturing to our reflection in the four mirrored walls.
The doors slid open to a dimly –lit empty hall with shiny marble flooring and potted trees wrapped in diamond lighting. There was a wide golden staircase at the end, with two large tinted glass doors. Without a word, the woman stepped out and followed.
“Do you think this is what the walk to Heaven is like?” Peyton joked.
“No, the hostess sucks,” I said, making him laugh.
A brown brow quirked as the woman looked back at me with the same expression of disdain she’d had since coming to get me.
“Look,” Melody whispered, nodding to a darkened corner by the double doors. Blinking, I took notice of the man I’d completely missed blending in with the shadows. He was in simple suit pants and a plain button-down. The gun at his side told me more information than the shitty hostess.
My eyes drifted to the other corner and sure enough, there was another man looking both bored and at full attention. They turned their heads as we approached, and stepped forward in perfect sync.
I briefly noticed ‘Encore Players Lounge’ engraved on a golden plaque outside the doors.
“The patrón is expecting them,” she said as way of introduction.
One of the men said something in a different language, and knocked on the glass twice.
Not a second later, one of the doors swung open and a man dressed in the same fashion looked out at us.
“Come,” was all he said, beckoning us inside.
It felt like there was a stampede in my stomach as we walked forward. The room was large with glass walls that overlooked the entire club. There were blackjack, roulette, and craps tables. HDTV’s hung from the ceiling, and there was a round metallic bar. The room was complete with plush furnishings.
I didn’t know where to look. There were a total of six men in the room, all in dark suits–minus the jackets. Two women I surmised were hired to be topless and clad in bunny tailed thongs sat on one of the sofas. Another two fully clothed women sat away from them.
Two diamond platters of cocaine already in lines sat on a coffee table as party favors. By the look of the three smudged piles, someone had already indulged.
My eyes finally locked with a set of golden ones and strayed no further.
He grinned at me, cupping my face in his hands and bringing his mouth to mine and pulling me flush against him in a majorly possessive greeting.
“Peyton, Melody, nice to see you’re still around,” he acknowledged them.
I gave him a questioning look in regards to that, but he didn’t elaborate.
“Come, get comfortable.” He took my hand and led me to the bar. I tried to ignore the guns, cash, and kilos openly exposed for us to see but they were right in my face.
My hands suddenly felt clammy. I couldn’t explain why this shit was fine in my mind but seeing it in reality was a different story.
He got me a drink and then led me over to a round table, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap. Peyton and Melody settled on one of the free sofas nearest us, each with their own drink.
I wondered if anyone could hear the unsteady beat of my heart.
Being so close to Mateo still wasn’t a casual thing to shrug my shoulders at.
His presence filled the room. I could smell his seductive cologne on every breath I took.
“Elena, this is my brother Elias, and our cousin Sergio,” he introduced once I was settled.
Both men gave us friendly smiles of acknowledgment.
“Ah, the stunning new woman in my brother’s life,” Elias grinned, looking way too much like Mateo, only slightly boyish. He had an uncanny resemblance to his brother. They were nearly identical aside from Elias being clean-shaven, and his eyes a little lighter.
Sergio was the green -eyed, bulkier version of the two. He had a lithe blonde sitting beside him, playing a game of bones with Elias.
“Teddy, Diablo, Oz,” Mateo introduced the remaining three men gesturing to each one. Diablo looked like he benched tanks for fun, Oz should have retired from this life three years ago, and Teddy was an average looking Brazilian.
There was another knock on the door and Mateo straightened in a different way than I did.
“Relax.” He spoke softly in my ear, sending his warm breath across the naked skin. Goose-pimples followed in its wake. I tried to play it off. His smug grin proved it was too late for th
at. “You’re safest in this life with me,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.
I didn’t understand that statement, either. Peyton shared a quick what the fuck? glance with me. The door swung open and more men and three women entered, all dressed in wealth.
I didn’t like any of this, but I couldn’t condemn his lifestyle even if I didn’t agree with it because my papá was also considered a bad man. His occupation was much different than Mateo’s, but he too lived and ultimately died in this world with blood on his hands.
That may be the reason I had some unresolved daddy issues, but that was a different story.
Things rapidly went into my severely uncomfortable zone. The gorgeous dark-skinned woman who had settled beside me pulled a small vial from between her breasts and dumped a little white pile right on the damn table. She leaned down and snorted it right into her nose, making my stomach turn.
No one batted an eyelid. As if sensing my rising discomfort, Mateo murmured something native in my ear and began stroking my thigh beneath the table. He had been playing a card game I couldn’t follow since I’d sat down.
I shifted, feeling his fingers go a little higher, biting into a smile when they abruptly froze at my bare pussy.
“Elena,” he began in a low voice. I stood the second I felt him grow hard underneath me.
“I’m going to sit with my friends.” I pecked his cheek and moved away before he could stop me.
I glanced back at him once I was next to Peyton, feeling a tingle dance down my spine from the look I was met with.
As the night wore on, Melody ended up lost in conversation with Diablo, of all people. Peyton had been wrangled into a game of craps. I found myself alone on a balcony that overlooked the club, leaning against the portion that partially hid me from the rest of the room, checking on my friends every few minutes.
I looked out over the club still full of people having the time of their lives, adding sweet American money to Mateo’s brilliant laundering front.
And I thought of my beautiful sister. She would have been in that room helping deplete the powder supply and deciding which narco she would be taking to bed. I missed her more than I thought I ever could.
Old Money Roulette: Complete Trilogy Page 9
