It had been one of the hottest magazines in South America ever since, but there were two things she hated about her business. For one, her husband was an investor in the company; therefore, he walked in and out of the company when he felt like it. Secondly, he did all of the hiring, from editors to the gardeners, many of whom he was sleeping with. She wanted to fire ninety percent of the staff but couldn’t because of her husband. If she could, she would blow up the whole building.
Taylor got up from her chair and looked at herself in a full-length mirror. She resembled the Colombian actress Sofia Vergara. Her fair skin was flawless, her honey-brown hair fell down her back, and her brown eyes were big and round. She went over to the rack of clothes sent to her by designers. Deciding which one to wear for the MMA fight that night, she turned around, startled that Ramon was behind her.
“Oh my goodness, Ramon. Don’t ever do that again.” She held her chest while taking deep breaths.
“Sorry, and I didn’t mean to scare you. But can I talk to you for a few minutes?”
“Is it very important, Ramon? Because I have to get ready for a very important engagement this evening.” She went over to her desk and sat. Ramon walked over to the chair across from her desk, but before he took a seat, she yelled at him. “Stand!”
He trembled from the sound of her loud voice and remained standing.
Silence fell over the room as Taylor ignored him and looked at her computer.
“Taylor, me and the team feel that having a men’s issue for next month is kind of stressful. Plus, we feel that having Desmond Diaz on the cover of an elegant, high fashion magazine would send a bad message to our readers.”
“Oh, really,” Taylor said, still looking at her computer. Deep inside, she was pissed.
“Yes, and as Editor-in-Chief, I feel that we should sell to the women of today in South America. I think we should have a strong woman on the cover, like Gisele Bundchen or Beyonce. It could make us cross over to the United States.”
Asshole, thought Taylor with her eyes glued on the computer. That was one of the many things she hated about Ramon. He thought the magazine was his and everything should be his way. If it were up to Taylor, he would’ve been gone a long time ago.
She winced and looked at him with her boss-bitch attitude. “Ramon, look at this office. This is my damn office. Not yours, and not anyone else’s.”
Taylor’s office was all white with a touch of classic and contemporary furniture.
On the walls were photographs of her in her modeling days, along with black and white photos of her idols, the late legendary actresses Elizabeth Taylor and Vivien Leigh. She even had big paintings of Marylyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor in their younger years together, which had cost her a pretty penny.
“If this makes any sense to you, I’m the CEO, publisher, and head bitch in charge of this magazine. I decide what goes and doesn’t go in this damn magazine. Your job is to make sure you keep those untalented bastards in line. If you can’t do that, maybe you should go back to modeling again and fuck up miserably.” Taylor smiled. She knew Ramon hated when she bought up his failing career as a model. He was one of the top male models in South America and Europe. When he thought he could make extra money doing porn, that career move messed his modeling career up royally, which led him to drugs and escorting, until Taylor’s husband cleaned him up and made him Editor-in-Chief.
Taylor waved him off. “Go, please. I’m tired of looking at you. Don’t come back until you have some better ideas for the magazine.”
Ramon cut his eyes at Taylor before marching out of her office with a twisted face.
After he left, Taylor went over to a clothing rack, searching for something to wear. She wasn’t giving up until she found the right dress and heels. Nothing seemed to jump out at her, but just as she set her eyes on an elegant dress with a bell sleeve, her speakerphone buzzed. Taylor walked over to her desk and pushed the intercom button.
“Yes, Maria.”
“Taylor, Milena’s here to see you.”
“Thank you. Send her in, Maria.” Taylor went over to her chair and sat with a wide smile on her face. “I wonder what my protégé has for me today.”
Within moments, Milena came in looking beautiful without a drop of makeup on. She rocked a Catherine Malandrino jumpsuit and flip flops. Her long hair was in a ponytail. She smiled at Taylor as she strutted over to a chair in front of her desk.
They had been best friends for three years, ever since they met at the MMA match in Sao Paulo that Taylor’s husband had forced her to go to. She preferred to be at a fashion show in Milan or at a shopping mall with some of her closest friends. But during the fight, Taylor went to the ladies’ room, where she met Milena, an aspiring model who was waiting for her big brother, Desmond Diaz, to fight. She had offered Taylor a seat next to her, and since Taylor took a liking to Milena, she accepted.
At the fight, Taylor immediately fell head over heels for Desmond. After he won the match, she had to meet him, because she couldn’t get him off her mind. One thing led to another, and when all was said and done, Milena and Taylor became the best of friends. One of the things that Taylor liked about Milena was that she was like a younger version of her. When Taylor built up enough confidence to talk to Milena’s brother, Milena offered to be Taylor’s husband’s new toy. Taylor loved her even more, and they kept the game of playing with Armand while Taylor was developing a loving relationship with Desmond. Taylor wanted to make it official one day and use the information Milena was giving her to get rid of Armand.
“Darling, you are looking so stunning in that outfit,” Taylor said.
“All thanks to your husband. He spent millions on me back in St. Louis.” Milena laughed.
They high fived each other.
“So, what is the scoop on Armand in St. Louis?”
“Well, one of his traffickers, Swag, and his friends are coming to Rio in a couple of days to traffic cocaine from here to California.”
“Really? Where is he putting them?”
“In one of his apartments in downtown Rio.”
“Excellent.” Taylor smiled evilly.
“What are you going to do with that little bit of information I gave you?”
Taylor shrugged and waved off the question. “Don’t be so nosy, darling. It’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Right then, her phone buzzed again.
“Yes, Maria?”
“Taylor, the limo driver is here.”
“Thank you, Maria. Tell him that I’ll be ready in few minutes.”
Taylor got up from her desk and stood behind a dressing screen to get ready for Desmond’s fight.
“So, where are you going?” Milena asked. “You and Armand have a date?” She knew that would tick Taylor off.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Taylor said. “I’m getting ready for the fight tonight at the HSBC Arena.” She pulled down her pants and panties.
“And Desmond?”
The sound of his name turned Taylor on. “I’m getting ready for him too.”
“So, what excuse did you give Armand this time?”
Taylor stepped from behind the dressing screen looking runway ready. “Please. He’ll be too busy fucking his three while his ten is having a better time.”
Milena laughed. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs so I can get my hair, nails, and makeup done. And as for you, you’d better be on your best behavior tonight. Promise that you will.”
“I don’t make promises that I can’t keep.”
They both laughed then left Taylor’s office together.
* * *
That evening at the HSBC Arena, MMA superstar Desmond Diaz was in the cage, beating the shit out of his opponent, The Beast, with kickboxing, boxing, Brazilian jiu-jitsu and plain old whip-ass techniques.
Not wanting to be in the noisy crowd or having sweat and blood on her sexy dress, Taylor decided to watch the fight in Desmond’s private dressing room. Desmond had everything in there s
he would need from roses to champagne, whipped cream, strawberries, chocolates, and honey. It was just a matter of minutes before he would return to the dressing room, and after he won the fight, the crowd went wild. So did Taylor. She watched on the flat screen as Desmond talked to reporters, who were asking him how he felt about another win. The reporters also questioned him about rumors pertaining to him going to Hollywood to star in films. Desmond answered everything but said “no comment” to the Hollywood question.
Taylor could tell from the look on his face that he was in a hurry to get to the dressing room. She quickly slipped out of her dress, leaving only her heels on. She looked at her body in the full-length mirror and licked her lips.
Damn, if I was a man, I’d fuck me too.
She put on Desmond’s robe then waited. Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Taylor stood in the middle of the room looking ready to eat.
“Come in,” she whispered.
Desmond came into the room, locking the door behind him. His body dripped with sweat, and several bruises could be seen on his face and hands. He still looked sexy to Taylor. He was six foot nine, with cinnamon-colored skin, a muscle-packed body, light gray eyes, and a bald head, and Taylor was eager to wrap her legs around the twenty-four-year-old MMA superstar.
Desmond had won black and white belts, a gold medal, and many World MMA awards. He was trained by his father and grandfather, who were former MMA champions. He owned his own martial arts studio, House of Diaz, which helped inner city youth in Rio. He also owned a five-star restaurant, an MMA gear shop, and a health spa/gym. He was voted sexiest man alive by People three years in a row. Plus, he’d been on the covers of Sports Illustrated, ESPN, and GQ. Even Hollywood movie directors had been calling him and his agent’s phone like crazy. They wanted him to star in action films. Directors believed that with Desmond’s body and strikingly good looks, he could be the next Vin Diesel. Most of the roles he was offered were turned down. One was about a slave turned bounty hunter, which was later given to a famous comedian turned Oscar winner. Another was a starring role alongside action hero legends.
With all of his fame and success, the ladies were all over his jock, but it was Taylor who had stolen his heart. He would do anything to make her officially his.
Desmond’s eyes scanned Taylor up and down as he slid his robe off his shoulders. His manhood increased by several inches and was soon rock hard.
“Congratulations, champ,” Taylor said, slowly walking over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his lips gently.
His hands roamed her ass before he squeezed it. “Damn, Pinky, that’s what I’m talking about.”
She loved when he called her Pinky, and she was on a serious high when he picked her up and rushed her over to a dresser. With one swipe of his hand, he knocked everything off the dresser and sat Taylor on top of it. They continued to kiss while Desmond caressed and massaged her 38C breasts.
“Mmmmm,” she moaned as she felt moistness building between her legs.
Desmond slipped his index and middle fingers inside of her pink walls. After coating his fingers with her heavy glaze, he put them in his mouth to taste her.
“Damn, Pinky, you taste real good.”
“Good? How about I show you better.”
She pushed his head down low, causing him to get on his knees, spread her legs apart, and dive in.
“Ahh, shit,” she groaned.
Taylor played with her nipples before her hands went down to Desmond’s head, forcing him deeper inside of her pussy to make her cum. “Ahhhh, fuck me, baby! I want more! Give me some more!”
She said the magic words for Desmond, who quickly got up from his knees. He licked his wet lips then pulled down his shorts with the help of Taylor. His penis was a thick ten inches long that always filled her to full capacity.
“You ready, Pinky?”
She nodded and smiled like a kid in a candy store. “Yes, D. I’m always ready for you.”
He navigated his dick inside of her, and within seconds, the room filled with heat. Their lips and bodies smacked together. Desmond slapped Taylor’s ass and tore into her like a beast.
“Ahhhh, mmmm, yessss!” she shouted as she enjoyed the feel of him sliding in and out of her pussy. “I’ve been wanting this dick all day!”
“Now you got it, so use it allllll to your advantage.” Desmond groaned while holding on to Taylor’s hips. He felt his dick pulsating, and all he could say was, “Ohhh, shit!”
They kissed to calm him, but as Desmond sucked and licked Taylor’s nipples, he caused her to cum. She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing it tight. “Shit, D, I wanna taste my cum! Let me taste it, okay?”
Desmond had no problem with that. He eased his dripping wet dick out of Taylor’s coochie then backed away from the dresser. Taylor dropped to her knees, sucking her juices off of Desmond’s dick while jerking him off.
He could barely stand. His legs trembled as he gathered a bunch of her hair in his hand. “Ahhhh, daaaamn, Pinky! You give good head, baby. Damn good head!”
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as she continued to suck him. She then put two fingers in her pussy, attempting to make herself cum again.
“I’m about to bust,” Desmond crooned.
“Please do. Cum in my mouth and give me every drop!”
Desmond jerked his dick and flooded Taylor’s mouth with white cream that dripped from her mouth.
They were happy about their long overdue sex session, and they couldn’t wait to tackle each other again. As Desmond sat in a chair to regroup, Taylor sat on his lap. One of her breasts was in his mouth. He was gearing up for round two.
“I hate to interrupt you, but you must get dressed now. You have a press conference, and I don’t want you to be too late,” she told him.
“Okay, coach.” Desmond kissed Taylor on the lips and then stood up. “I gotta do this conference meeting, but I promise I’ll be back.”
“Hurry. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He put on his shorts, flip flops, and his robe. He kissed Taylor on the forehead before saying those magic words she loved to hear. “I love you, Pinky.”
“I love you too.”
Taylor was on cloud nine after he walked out. She couldn’t stop thinking about Desmond. All she wanted was to get rid of Armand so she could spend the rest of her life with the man she loved. She pondered a plan, one that would give her exactly what she wanted. When something good came to mind, she lit a cigar and smiled.
Chapter 4
Welcome to Brazil
For the past few days, Brad had been thinking about the situation he had gotten himself into. Now, he was at the airport sitting, waiting, and thinking of all the shit that could go wrong on the trip to Rio.
What if we get caught? Other countries’ prisons are a lot worse. Will I ever see American soil again? But what if everything goes according to the plan and we all get our fifty Gs? Yes!
Brad looked at his friends. Travis had his headphones on, nodding his head to Alicia Keys, Tyler was reading Ghetto Love by local St. Louis author Mary L. Wilson, Stan was looking at porn on his cell phone, while Swag was on the pay phone getting clear instructions from Armand. Brad’s feelings were up and down, and as the clock ticked away, he started sweating bullets.
Damn, why did I agree to do this shit? Maybe while no one’s looking I can make a run for it. But then what would I do for money? There is no way in hell I’m going to work in a low-paying restaurant again. And fifty Gs is a lot of bread to get me by for a minute.
His thoughts continued, and he didn’t even notice that his cousin was shaking his shoulder. Back to reality, Brad shifted in his seat to look at Swag.
“Yeah, what, man?”
“Here’s your passport, man. Now, cheer up and let’s go get on this plane,” said Swag, handing him his passport along with the other guys’.
Brad knew his final decision was to proceed with the trip. He put the passport in his
back pocket. He shook his head as he got up. His stomach felt queasy. He looked out the window at the American Airlines plane and whispered, “Goodbye, St. Louis.”
* * *
The thirteen-hour flight to Rio was long and tiresome. It was shaky, too, and the ongoing turbulence made Brad feel as if his life was about to end. Instead of being fearful, Brad kept himself occupied with music and watching movies on the small screen in front of him. Conversation with the fellas helped the time pass, and before they knew it, the plane had arrived at the Galeão International Airport in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
With the exception of Swag, none of them had ever been to a place like this. They were in awe as they looked around at people from different nationalities. After they got their luggage, Swag informed them that a limousine would be waiting for them outside. And sure enough, it was.
The driver, who was dressed in black, spotted them right away. He opened the doors to the limousine with a wide smile on his face. “Welcome to Rio, gentlemen. I can assist with your luggage, and then we must go.”
The driver helped everyone put their luggage in the trunk. Some of their bags went on the back seat. There was not much conversation going on, and like Brad, the others were still weighing the negative and positive aspects of being in Rio. They kept checking their surroundings, and the only one who seemed one hundred percent comfortable with all of this was Swag.
“Lighten up, fellas,” he said as they climbed inside the spacious limo. “All this quietness is working me. We’re in Rio, y’all. Look around and enjoy yourselves, because we are in Rio!”
They all smiled—even Brad, who had started to accept that there was no turning back now.
Beating the Odds Page 4
