El Malo

by K. Webster

  “Let me tell you what I know,” I say as I stroke her back beneath the water. “I know you have excellent taste in music and can dance like you were born to do it. I know you love Jorge’s tacos al pastor the best.” She chuckles softly as I continue. “I know your ex, Michael, is a douchebag. I know you are insanely OCD about dust and dirt and wrinkles.”

  She turns and looks up at me, a smile on her lips. “There’s more about me.”

  Arching a brow at her, I grab her hips and position her to straddle me. “I know you taste like heaven.”

  “Better than your candy apple cigars?” she challenges, her brown eyes gleaming with happiness.

  “Sweeter and much more addictive,” I agree. “I know you haven’t always been a little maid who sticks to the shadows and cleans my home.”

  Her body stiffens slightly. “Oh yeah?”

  “I know what’s important right now,” I tell her as I grip my cock that’s hardened again. “And right now I know you need me.”

  She slides down my shaft to the hilt, her tits pressing against my chest.

  “I’m going to give you me, manzanita. I’m going to give you all of me.”

  She opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but I grip her neck, pushing her slightly away from me, and grab her tit with the other hand. Lifting her heavy tit, I bring it to my mouth and tease the nipple with the tip of my tongue. Her cunt clenches and I hiss.

  “Javi,” she murmurs.

  “Yes, mami?”

  “I’m taking the night off.” Her words are thick with meaning, as if she means more than her job as my maid. “Now fuck me like you meant everything you just said.”

  I grin against her breast. “Hang on.” I bite her nipple, relishing in her scream of pleasure. “It’s going to be a long, wild ride.”

  Rosa

  I wake to Javier’s lips on my neck and his cock rubbing against me. I don’t have time to process what’s happening before he’s pushing his thickness deep inside me. My fingernails claw his shoulders as he drives into me, his hips seemingly doing a dance against me. I try to grasp onto reasons of why this is a bad idea, but I come up short. His mouth finds mine and he kisses me. Only Javier would taste good early in the morning. Like candy apple tobacco and tequila. I worry for a moment that I’m going to gross him out with my morning breath, but he practically inhales me. His palm squeezes my tit before sliding to my throat. He’s gentle as he grips me, not hard enough to cut off my air. It reminds me of his power.

  His other hand grabs one of my wrists and pins it to the bed. He lifts up so he can watch me. I stare at him in wonder. The devil is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. His black hair is messy and hangs in his eyes. Dark scruff dusts his cheeks and his nearly black eyes flicker with need.

  Need for me.

  I try to latch on to the whys.

  Why I’m here.

  Why I’m doing this.

  Why I willingly took Xanax when it was offered to me.

  Why I’ve slept with this man several times now, all without protection.

  And I can’t seem to find the answers.

  I’m spiraling.

  I’m spinning and he’s the one controlling my movement.

  “Come for me, mami,” he rumbles, his sexy voice hoarse from sleep.

  He releases my wrist and reaches between us to rub my clit. I’ve masturbated many times alone in my room, but it has never felt like when Javier touches me. It’s like he’s read and memorized the manual to my body.

  “Oh, God,” I whimper.

  Stars glitter around me and I let go.

  My back arches off the bed, my body shaking with pleasure. I’m so lost in the throes of passion I don’t have it in me to fight him when I feel his heat rush into me. Stupid. So stupid. And yet, his promise dances around in my head, taunting me.

  He said he’d take care of me.

  His cock softens and he pulls out before lying half on me and on the bed beside me. I love his massive weight crushing me. For a short while, I can pretend it’s just us. Nothing exists outside his bedroom door. We’re lovers on the fast track for more. He’s not king of the cartel. I’m not with the CIA.

  “You’re quiet,” he observes.

  “Just tired,” I lie.

  “Hmmmm…”

  “There’s a lot of work to do before your father arrives. I should go,” I tell him.

  His cum trickles out of my body and down my ass crack. I should clean myself up. I should do a lot of things.

  “Stay in bed, Rosa. The other maids will do the work.”

  I start to argue but bite my tongue. It benefits my mission for the agency to stay right under his thumb. I’ll learn much more than dusting under beds. Not to mention, you don’t argue with a man like Javier Estrada.

  “Don’t you have baddie work to go do?” I tease, hoping to draw out some information.

  “I could be good if I got to spend my every waking moment between your thighs, manzanita.”

  I laugh because despite being so cutthroat and ruthless, sometimes he’s playful and funny. But then I remember last night. How he sliced that man open and pulled out his guts. I’d been reminded what a monster he truly is. What he’s capable of.

  “What happens when you get bored of sleeping with me?”

  He growls and nips at my collarbone. “I won’t get bored. I’m keeping you.”

  What happens when I gather all the intel the CIA needs? They swoop in and take down Estrada. By what means, I’m not sure. The idea of him face down in the dirt dirtying up one of his fancy suits doesn’t sit well with me.

  My mother’s bloody body is forefront in my mind, though.

  Always reminding me.

  People like Javier are like the men who killed my mother.

  They. Must. Be. Taken. Down.

  I’m dragged from my thoughts to find Javier’s intense gaze boring into mine. As though he can peer straight into my head and see the thoughts turning. I attempt to calm my features. He reaches up and I try not to flinch. His hand doesn’t strike me, but instead his fingers stroke down the side of my face. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.

  This is bad.

  So bad.

  He gets inside my head so easily and makes a mess of things.

  “Today, we’ll go shopping. I want to buy you some things,” he says as he slides out of the bed.

  I watch his toned ass flex as he walks toward the bathroom. His back is completely tattooed and some of the curls from the design dip onto his butt. God, he’s so hot.

  He reaches the doorway and turns to look at me. His smile is wide, revealing his one dimple. With a motion of his head, he indicates I should follow.

  I follow, a grin of my own on my face, because it’s my job.

  Also, I follow because I’m a woman and good or bad, nobody can turn down a man like that.

  I’m fussing over another borrowed outfit from Yolanda when Araceli rushes into my room.

  “Miss Rosa,” she says, her brows furled together. “You have a visitor.”

  My heart catches in my throat. The only time I should ever have a visitor is if they’re extricating me before taking Estrada down. But there’s no way they have the intel to do something like that right now. Unnerved, I wave her away and hurry downstairs. I make it outside and find Michael standing just inside the gate. He’s wearing a baseball cap and a baggy black T-shirt with a pair of khaki shorts. His new rounded stomach stretches the fabric. I’m disgusted that I let this man use me. At least Javier, despite being a monster, treats me like I’m something worthy of his affection and attention.

  “Fuck me,” he mutters upon seeing me.

  I’m wearing an orange halter top dress that hits me just above my knees. It dips down low in the front and reveals a good portion of my breasts. It’s sexy and risqué but very much the style of what women wear around here.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss. There are cameras everywhere. One wrong word. One false move. It will all cr
ash down around me.

  “I missed you. Come have dinner with me,” he pleads. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I love you, Rosa.”

  I’m stunned at his words. The code, if I were to leave that place, was just the first part. But he added the rest, which feels awfully genuine. I think he’s just screwing up his cover because he feels like an ass.

  “I have dinner plans,” I say, my voice cold. That is my code for: Not yet, I’m still working on some good information.

  “This isn’t about dinner,” he grumbles. “It’s about us.”

  He takes a step forward and I take two back.

  “There is no us, remember?” My tone is icy. Nothing about my words has anything to do with the CIA and everything to do with how he treated me.

  “Rosa…” He trails off as his eyes dart behind me.

  A warm body steps behind me and a strong arm wraps around my middle.

  “Everything okay here?” Javier rumbles as he kisses the top of my head.

  Michael glowers at me, his face turning bright red. I have to fix this before Michael ruins everything or gets himself killed.

  “I have dinner plans tonight with Javier, but I will catch up with you on my day off,” I tell him, shooting daggers at him. “We’re about to leave, so…”

  His eyes drop to where Javier holds me possessively and his jaw clenches. “I’m sorry,” he utters again. “Saturday sounds good.” He turns on his heel and stalks past the open gate to the road.

  When he’s gone, Javier speaks. “I don’t like him.”

  Turning in his arms, I attempt to distract him. “Do we have to go shopping? Can’t we stay here?”

  His irritation melts away as he smirks at me. “You can sit on my cock later. I want to buy you some dresses for while my father is visiting. You’ll be on my arm as my lover, not as my maid. Understood?”

  My cheeks heat, but I nod. “I’m not going to turn down free clothes.”

  “Who said they’re free?” he teases as his palms grip my ass through my dress. He kneads my flesh, spreading my ass cheeks apart, which quickly makes me wet for him.

  “What do I have to do for them?” I bite my bottom lip as I slide my palms up his dress shirt. “I should start on my payment plan.”

  He lifts me and I squeal but in a way that feels natural. I wrap my legs around him. He presses kisses to my exposed flesh as he walks over to the carport. When he sets me down beside a black Challenger, I pout.

  “I thought we were going to, you know…”

  He throws his head back and laughs, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Mami, you’re a temptation. It is so hard to deny you when you hit me with those pouty fucking lips.”

  “So don’t deny me.”

  He opens the car door and motions for me to sit. “If I gave you what you wanted, I’d never get a damn thing done. Later, I’ll be back inside of you. Now, we do some business.”

  I let out a sigh but sit in the car. He gets in beside me and fires up the loud engine. It’s a standard, so he doesn’t hold my hand this time. His focus is on shifting gears and maneuvering the streets that are scattered with potholes filled with rainwater from the storm. Thankfully, today, the sun is out and shining. I assume he’ll drive us into the city, but he takes us to the shed. This is the second time he’s brought me here.

  “What’s in there?” I ask as we pull up and park.

  He flashes me a dark look. “Business.”

  “I don’t want to stay out here alone.”

  His brows crash together as he considers my words. “I suppose after what you saw last night at the club, nothing should surprise you. You can come with me, just stay clear of the piss puddles.”

  I inwardly cringe but give him a quick nod. We get out and I follow behind him. He’s wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up. I love that his tattoos are on display. His black hair is slicked back today, giving him a bad boy mobster look. I definitely approve. He keys in the code and I memorize the number. When he pushes into the building, someone wails.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me after him. We make it to a room where the noises are coming from. When he opens that door, I’m assaulted with a disgusting smell. The first thing I notice in what looks like a torture room is a man sitting in a chair, his head slumped forward. Naked. He has metal twisted around his balls. I cringe. Another man hangs from the ceiling, his eyes wild but very much alive.

  “Rosa, meet Velez and Angel.” He points to each one. “Guys, meet mi amor.”

  Velez lifts his head and groans. “Help me.” He has a scabbed over E and M on his forehead.

  Javier chuckles. “He likes little boys. His wife was not pleased. She paid me to do this,” he explains. “And Angel? He thought he was on the right side with Mendez. Remember Mendez, manzanita? I gutted him last night. Angel was very wrong. The right side is the only side and that’s with me. Everyone that’s not with me is a dead man walking.”

  My blood goes cold. If Javier ever discovers who I am, he won’t just let me go with a slap on the wrist. This room is a real possibility. Bile rises in my throat and I choke it down.

  “You’ll get used to the smell,” Javier tells me as he pulls on a rubber apron. “Hermosa, can you bring me a razor? They’re in the toolbox under the hammer.”

  Velez starts crying as I walk over to the toolbox. I pluck a razor out and hand it to Javier. He grabs my wrist and pulls me close. His lips press to my forehead.

  “So brave,” he murmurs before releasing me.

  I watch with horror as Javier carves a large E and an M into Velez’s chest, matching the ones on his forehead. He screams as blood runs down and puddles in his chair between his legs. Javier squats and looks at Velez’s purple balls. Then, without warning, he digs the razor into the man’s flesh between his balls and cuts deep.

  Screams.

  Horrible, horrible screams.

  I’m unable to look away as Javier squeezes Velez’s balls and they slide out of his body like egg yolks into a bowl. Velez vomits and then passes out. All I can do is stare in utter horror.

  “That’s gotta fucking hurt,” he says as he stands. “You next, Angel?”

  Angel sobs and shakes his head. “N-No. P-Please. I can do whatever you want. I swear to you, I pledge my loyalty. I swear it, jefe.”

  Javier laughs. “Jefe, huh?” He walks over to Angel and pats his naked stomach, leaving Velez’s blood smeared on him. “We’ll see.”

  I expect him to hurt him too, but instead he walks over to the sink and washes up. Once he’s clean and he’s put the apron away, he starts whistling. He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room.

  I guess we’re done.

  Fuck.

  He can never ever know who I am.

  Ever.

  It’s time to step up my game because I won’t end up in that room like one of those guys.

  “You bought me too much,” I complain.

  He laughs as he drives to one of the resorts on the beach where he’s made lunch reservations. “Not enough.”

  I shake my head at him. My necklace has a giant teardrop diamond and I also have a matching diamond tennis bracelet. I’d balked that he spent nearly 1.4 million Mexican pesos as if it were nothing. And that was just on two pieces of jewelry. He bought me dozens of outfits, a bunch of fancy shoes, and several swimsuits. I know I’m doing a job but damn, sometimes I feel like a queen with this man.

  “They have the best lobster frittata,” he tells me as we pull up to the valet.

  Lobster frittata. Makes me think of how that man’s balls were squeezed from their sac. I choke down bile. I will not be having the lobster frittata.

  “Sr. Estrada,” the man greets when Javier opens his door.

  Javier hands him the keys before rounding the car to meet me on my side where another man opens the door for me. My hand slips into Javier’s strong one. It’s hard to believe this same hand brutalized a man earlier.

  It’s a tes
tament to Javier’s villainous character.

  One minute he’s torturing a man. The next, he’s buying jewelry for his flavor of the week. If I were a profiler instead of a field agent, I’d assume he’s a legit psychopath.

  “You are the most beautiful thing this restaurant has ever seen,” he croons against my hair as his arm wraps around my waist.

  I melt against him, intoxicated by his words. If I’m easily charmed by a psychopath, what does that make me?

  Brainless.

  Stupid.

  Walking a dangerous line.

  His palm slides to my ass and he gives me a little squeeze. It’s enough to pull me out of my head and throw me into the moment. With him. With Javier Estrada, the man who commands the attention and obedience of everyone in the room. A man in a suit greets us and I learn he’s the hotel manager. He guides us into a bustling restaurant but takes us through some side doors to a lone table on a small balcony. It faces the ocean and the breeze is warm. The afternoon sun is setting. It’s all so romantic.

  Psychopath.

  Remember, Rosa.

  “Bring us something to drink,” Javier orders.

  The man nods and hurries off. Javier doesn’t set his gun down on the table to remind people he’s the badass of this city. It simply exudes from him in his confident smirk.

  “Something’s bothering you,” he muses aloud, his sharp gaze penetrating me.

  I twist the new bracelet around my wrist and shrug. “Some things you just can’t unsee.”

  His warm hand covers both of mine. “Lo siento, Rosa.” I’m sorry, Rosa. “That was too gruesome for you to witness.” His black brows are furled together in a concerned way. It makes my heart rate pick up.

  “I know you’re a baddie,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood. “Sometimes I forget the level, though. You’re good to me and that’s all that matters.”

  “He was good to me, mija. I fell for a bad man because he was good to me.”

  My mother’s words ring loud and clear in my head. She was desperately in love with one of El Paso’s worst gangsters. He killed and thieved and tortured. My own flesh and bone was a villain and my mother loved him. The irony is not lost on me.