by K. A. Ware
Squatting down, I lowered the torch to Mario's bare chest, enough for him to feel the heat, but not to burn him. Yet.
I let myself feel the anger of betrayal, let the rage take over and fill every cell in my body. I would do anything to find the person responsible for trying to destroy what I'd worked so hard to build. Even if I lost my soul in the process.
"And before this is over, you're going to tell me everything you know," I whispered.
His screams rebounded through the garage, creating an eerie playlist to Mario's confessions. The acrid smell of burning hair filled my nostrils and turned my stomach, but I didn't let it stop me. I let him feel the full force of my fury and determination before I gave him a brief reprieve to continue my questioning.
The once tan flesh had been burned away leaving grotesque welts, the skin charred black and seeping. I turned off the torch and set it aside, Mario was nearly unconscious with relief, but his respite wouldn't last long if he didn't start talking.
"Where is he?" I screamed, slapping him across the face in an effort to keep him conscious and alert.
Mario groaned a pathetic plea, begging for mercy, but I was not a merciful woman. I'd learned long ago that ruthlessness was the only thing that garnered results. Taking pity on my enemies was a sure way to get screwed.
Rearing back, I slammed a fist into his cheek, feeling the fragile bones in his face give way. "Tell me!" I screamed again, "Or I'm going for your face next."
"He, he knows…" Mario moaned again.
"He knows what?" I insisted.
"You're l-looking for…him," he trailed off, the last word coming out as a whisper before his head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion.
"Motherfucker!" I growled, straightening to my feet.
"You went too hard, too fast." My eyes flicked toward the sound of Antonio's voice; I'd momentarily forgotten he was there, so consumed by my need for answers.
"And you're the expert in extracting information?" I asked, my tone bordering on snotty. I instantly regretted my outburst. I was a grown woman, I didn't act like a defensive child, but he brought out something in me that raised all of my defensive instincts.
He bent down to pick up the torch I'd left on the ground, and examined it. "Something like that."
"So what would've you done?" I asked, trying to recoup the dignity I'd lost from my outburst.
"Start out slower next time, let the pain build at a steady rate until they're sure it'll never end. Then you give them a way out. Talk and receive a quick, painless end, or keep their secrets and see how much worse it can get. Don't worry about it, he'll wake up in a few minutes, and you can try again."
"How kind of you," I said turning my back to him. "I'm going to search the office and see if I can find anything."
I just needed a minute. I didn't know what it was about Antonio, but I found myself needing space from him yet again. He saw too much.
"Victoria," he called out. It didn't go beyond my notice that he used my full name. Everybody called me Vic, but from the moment he'd met me he'd refused to follow suit.
I stopped but didn't turn around as I felt him approach.
"What?" I asked, staring straight forward.
"You're scared."
I bristled but refused to turn around. "I'm not scared."
He moved in closer until I could feel the heat from his big body radiating along my back. "You're scared of how much you liked it."
Silence. Neither of us spoke as I soaked in his words. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at his proximity.
Antonio trailed his fingertips down my bare arms, his breath tickling my skin. "That's why you're shaking, and it's not from fear of danger, it's from adrenaline. You're excited; you've never felt more alive than you do right now. I saw it in the way your pulse jumped in your throat, that gleam you got in your eyes, and the twitch of your lips. I can see you."
Buzzing filled my ears, and I exploded, spinning around to face him. "You don't see shit. You don't know anything about me.
I advanced on him, and he kept step with me until I had him backed up against a shiny red hotrod. The stern set of his jaw told me that he wasn't retreating. No, he was allowing me, giving me permission to take the lead and it did nothing to douse the flames of my anger.
"I do what I have to do to survive." Getting so close that I could smell the cologne he'd put on that morning.
"Oh, I know all about you," he growled. Dropping his gaze in a slow perusal of my body, his eyes lingered momentarily on my breasts and lips. "I've noticed the way your breath hitches ever so slightly every time you lash out, then how the corners of your lips immediately turn down. You enjoy the power, but you're still ashamed of what that says about your true nature."
I wanted to scream, lash out, anything to get him to stop talking. "I'm doing what needs to be done nothing more nothing less," I gritted out. I didn't want to admit that he was right. I was scared of what I would become if I let go of my restraint and let myself really enjoy what I was doing.
Something between a growl and a groan escaped his throat. "Don't lie," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
I opened my mouth to argue some more, but his arm shot out and wrapped around my waist and spinning us both until his hips pinned me against the bumper of the car. He leaned in close, his hard chest pressing against my heaving one. I tried to regulate my breathing, but it was no use. Having him, this close made my body go haywire.
Antonio tilted his head down until his lips were at my ear. "You could have simply put a gun against his head and demanded he tell you what you wanted to know, but instead you got creative." The way his voice wrapped around the word creative had my thighs clenching together involuntarily.
He pulled back and pinned me with a stare as if he were daring me to deny it.
"You don't know anything," I repeated, trying to stay strong, but I was disappointed to find my voice broke on the last word.
He gripped my face in both hands, his long fingers diving into the hair at the nape of my neck.
"I see you."
The electricity coursing between us was palpable. Antonio gazed down at me with an intensity I'd never experienced before.
He had the devil in his eyes, and it made me want to sin.
As if I'd spoken my admission out loud, Antonio's resistance seemed to snap. His grip on my face tightened as he lowered his mouth to mine in a crushing kiss. We both fought for dominance, tongues lashing and teeth nipping, neither of us willing to back down and let the other take control.
It wasn't a sweet or contained kissed by any stretch of the imagination; it was feral. My fingers clawed at his shoulders, and my back arched involuntarily, my body searching out the press of his. He kicked my feet apart and wedged his thigh between mine. My body acting on its own accord, ground against him, searching for any way to release the pressure building in my core.
Calloused hands snaked up, underneath my shirt and cupped my breasts. I tried to hold back the moan that climbed up my throat at the contact, but it was no use. Antonio's answering growl was enough to have my hips moving faster and my hands scrambling for the neck of his shirt. Without preamble, I tore the two sides of his shirt apart, vaguely registering the sound of tiny buttons falling to the cement floor.
Too many clothes. We were both wearing too many fucking clothes.
He seemed to pick up on my urgency and matched it with his own intensity, ripping my tank top over my head and jerking the cups of my bra down, and sunk to his knees. He was so much taller than I was that in his new position, his face was at chest level. Immediately, he took one aching nipple between his lips and sucked. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh ever so slightly. A pulse of desire shot through me all the way to my clit and my back arched craving more as my nails raked against his scalp, urging him on.
I felt those calloused hands on my belly as he deftly unfastened my belt and popped the button of my pants open. Pausing only to latch onto my other breast, he curled h
is fingers into the waistband of my jeans and yanked them down along with my flimsy thong, to just below my knees where they met the resistance of my boots.
Releasing my breast with a pop, he got to his feet, towering over me. I was shaking with need and lust and a little fear. I wanted him. There was no doubt about it, but I was terrified that one taste of him would never be enough.
Antonio didn't waste any time shucking off his ruined shirt and reaching back to grasp the collar of his undershirt, pulling it over his head. His belt and fly were next, but he didn't make a move to push down his pants. Instead, he gripped my hips and spun me around. Pressing a hand to the middle of my back, he guided me forward until my breasts met cold steel. The contrast of the cool metal of the hood at my front and the hot flesh of his hand at my back had my nerves on edge.
Sliding his hand up my spine, he circled his fingers around my throat before bringing his thumb to come to rest on my panting lips.
"Suck." It wasn't a request; it was a command. One that I desperately wanted to comply with. I opened my mouth, granting him access. He slipped his thumb in, and I closed my lips around it, doing as I was told.
I felt his hard cock pulse against my ass and had to fight back a groan of impatience. I was all for a little delayed gratification when I was the one doing the teasing, but when the tables were turned, I found myself growing anxious and needy.
Flexing my hips, I pushed my ass back into him and let my teeth graze his now wet thumb as he pulled it free of my lips.
Growing exasperated with his lack of action, I turned my head to glare at him over my shoulder. "Are you going to quit playing and fuck me now?"
I caught a shadow passing over Antonio's face before his hand shot out and fisted my ponytail. Gripping my hair almost to the point of pain, he pulled, causing my back to arch off the hood and rendering the rest of my body immobile.
His body bent to cover my own, and he growled into my ear, a sound so erotic, so primal, that I felt my body melt beneath him. "You need to learn patience. I will fuck you when I'm good and ready and not a moment before, do you understand?"
Excuse me?
Anger rose in my chest making me want to lash out, but I wanted him too badly to risk him stopping, so I gnashed my teeth together and stayed silent.
In a moment, his heat was gone, and a hard palm landed loudly on my bare ass cheek, catching me by surprise.
"I asked you a question, and I expect an answer, Victoria."
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not yet, even if it meant pulling my clothes over my heated flesh and walking out without a release for all my pent-up desire. If he wanted me to play, he'd have to try harder than that to drag it out of me; I wasn't going to make it easy on him.
Another hard smack to my ass, the burn so sweet I found myself pushing back into his palm, chasing the sting. The hot breath and that gravel filled voice was back at my ear. "Give me what I want, and I'll give you what you need."
A deal, not a command. The closest thing I was going to get to a compromise.
"Yes," I choked out through panting breaths.
"Yes, what?"
If he thought I was going to call him Sir, he had another thing coming.
"Yes, Mr. Chairman."
"We're going to have to fix that smart mouth." I expected more teasing or arguing from him, but got none of it.
Without warning the blunt head of his cock was at my entrance, and he was pushing into me with such force my hips slammed into the front end of the hotrod he had me bent over. An intense mix of pain and pleasure danced through my body.
He didn't pause to let me adjust to his intrusion or even slow on his retreat; he kept the same punishing pace he'd started with, slamming into me with a strength I'd never experienced. I barely had time to recover and brace myself before he was powering into me again. I frantically tried to spread my knees further, attempting to get him even deeper, but the jeans that were bunched at the top of my boots held me firmly in place.
I felt my body clench around him as the drag and pull of his hard cock made contact with every one of my sweet spots. Each drive of his hips had me seeing white spots. I was already so close, climbing higher and higher towards the edge, but I needed more.
As I was about to tell Antonio just that, his grip on my hair tightened once more and he yanked, hard. Fire bloomed in my scalp, and I cried out just as I felt the wet press of his thumb push past the tight ring of my ass. A delicious sensation of fullness took over me and my already frayed, and ravaged nerves lit on fire. Suddenly, I was precisely aware of every point of contact our bodies made, and I felt myself crest the precipice of pleasure.
"I can't wait to fuck this tight ass," Antonio snarled into my ear. His words were like a knife slicing through my last tether of restraint. It was exactly what I needed to send me tumbling over the edge screaming his name.
Every muscle in my body seized, and my pussy clamped down around him as he drove home and roared his release above me. I slumped forward, laying my heated cheek on the cool metal of the hood and allowing my heartbeat to return to normal. The swirl of satisfaction clouded my thoughts, leaving me, for the moment, unable to process anything beyond my languid and satiated limbs.
I wasn't sure how long we stayed suspended in our post orgasmic bubble before Antonio gently disengaged our bodies, and I heard the tell-tale sound of his zipper in the silence of the garage. Silently chastising myself for the brief reprieve, I straightened and slipped on my icy mask of indifference. Turning, I bent and shimmied my jeans up my legs as gracefully as I could, trying to maintain some sort of dignity after being thoroughly fucked on the hood of a car while an unconscious and possibly dead man lay a few feet away.
But you fucking loved every second of it.
I adjusted my bra and slipped my tank top back on before turning to Antonio with a smirk plastered across my face.
"I think it's time to wake up our friend."
Chapter Eleven
Antonio
The air chilled the trail of her hot tongue as she licked up my shaft and swirled the head of my cock. I groaned and flexed my hips, encouraging her to take me deeper, to stop the teasing and wrap those luscious lips around me. Her warm breath danced across the tip, and my dick twitched in anticipation. Just as she was about to put me out of my misery-- my phone rang.
My eyes shot open and scanned the empty room. Slightly disoriented from sleep, I realized I was alone. Letting my head drop back down to the pillow I reached blindly for my cell.
"What?" I barked into the phone, irritated at being interrupted.
"Who pissed in your cheerios, sunshine?"
I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "You'd better have a damn good reason for calling me at six in the fucking morning."
"I do, but you're not going to like it. Mallory finally got back to me. Her friend in the Portland forensic office told her the drugs were being cut with a synthetic fentanyl."
"Isn't that a painkiller?"
"Kind of, yeah. It's about a hundred times more powerful than morphine and highly addictive. According to Mallory, this kind of thing has been happening all over the country, just not on this scale."
"So it's not isolated? How in the fuck are we supposed to get in front of it?"
"Yes and no. Mallory said because adding the drug elevates the high, a lot of dealers will lace a few bags in their batch to boost sales."
"Boost sales?"
"One or two overdoses are good for business. The older junkies that have built up a tolerance see an overdose as a giant billboard for the next best high."
"Jesus, that's insane."
"You're telling me. The thing is, there's a fine line between a couple of overdoses boosting sales and one too many drying up the clientele."
"Do you have any good news for me?"
"I have information, not sure if it actually qualifies as good news though."
"Spit it out."
"Since the fentanyl is synthetic they wer
e able to analyze the properties of the samples and trace it back, which is what took so long and why they haven't released any information to the public. Mallory explained it better than I can, but basically, the chemical make-up is like a fingerprint. The compound is extremely similar to a batch that was found to have come from the Salcedo Cartel."
"Tell me you're fucking kidding."
"I wish I were, man, but that's what we got. Now you need to find out if this is about your girl or us."
"She is not my girl."
"I didn't mean it like that, but now I definitely do. I knew she was hot when you refused to send a picture; you tappin' that?"
"Do you know anything else about the drugs?"
"So you are hittin' it."
"Angelo, focus."
"No, we don't—"
"Let me know when you do." I pulled the phone and disconnected the call without letting him finish.
Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. There was no use in trying to get back to my dream; the fantasy had been chased away the moment I opened my eyes to see the sun streaming through the windows.
Lumbering off to the bathroom for a cold shower, the memory of the night in Mario's garage played across my mind. It had been running like a loop through my thoughts for the past two weeks. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the image of her smooth, tanned skin, bare and laid out before me, to go away.
Each passing day that she acted as if nothing had happened drove me a little more to the point of madness. It was admittedly, the best sex of my life and she acted as if it were an itch to scratch. Like she hadn't come so hard that she'd almost passed out. I knew what I felt, and I knew in my soul she felt it too. There was a fire between us, so much so that I was equal parts intrigued and worried about how long it would take us to get burned if we let it play out.
