Carrera Cartel: The Collection

by Kenborn, Cora

  “Oh, I think it is. When did this happen?”

  It took her a few moments to find her voice. “After you left my motel room, all right?”

  “You mean after I had you pinned against the wall, completely at my mercy?”

  Her lips thinned but she didn’t respond.

  Stubborn-ass woman.

  “I walked away because two more seconds and I would’ve kissed you while ripping that little lace dress off,” I admitted, pushing her defenses a little harder.

  That earned me a sharp glare. “I don’t kiss.”

  My tongue burned with a dozen questions but asked none of them. Instead, I kept myself in check and forced her hand.

  She sighed. “You kiss someone you love. I fuck, Brody. I don’t kiss.”

  I was stunned but focused on proving my point. “Fair enough, no kiss. Want to know what I would’ve done after that?”

  “I’m on pins and needles.”

  “I would’ve run my hands down those curves you keep throwing in my face. You wouldn’t have had to get yourself off, Adriana, because right up against that wall, I would’ve made you shake so hard, you would’ve collapsed.”

  She curled her lips and stared at the roof of the car. “Uh-huh, right.”

  “Don’t believe me?”

  “Oh, I’m sure the socialites you’ve been with have no complaints, but we’re talking apples and oranges here.” She tossed out one open palm and then the other to demonstrate as if I were a complete moron. “I’m not saying your vanilla way is bad, but we’d never be sexually compatible.”

  I was fucking with her before, but now I was pissed.

  “How would you know?”

  “Let’s just say my sexual appetite is like a car’s engine, and yours is more like a bicycle.” Again, she demonstrated holding on to invisible handlebars as if I were a chimpanzee who’d just learned to eat with utensils. “You strike me as more of a candlelight and roses by a four-poster bed type of guy. That’s not me, counselor. I’m more of a dirty fucking on the hood of a car type of girl.”

  I should’ve let it die. My brain knew nothing good could come of taking this any further. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my brain that was in control.

  “Who are you trying to convince, princesa? Me or yourself?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I think for once in your life, you want to hand over your coveted control and know what it feels like to submit. Only nobody has ever had the balls to make you do it.”

  There. I said it, and every word was true whether she wanted to admit it or not. I saw how she responded when I had a gun to her head and my hand around her throat. I understood her better than she thought. Maybe I was the only one who’d ever come close.

  Our lives paralleled, forming an extremely warped yin and yang. Adriana grew up in darkness, fighting for respect, blood and death her closest childhood friends. I, on the other hand, grew up in what I thought was the light, freely given respect and adoration, ignorance and justice my most trusted confidants. Somewhere along the way, our worlds imploded and reversed. I fell into darkness while Adriana, whether she saw it or not, desperately sought out the light.

  Black and white. Dark and light. Yes and no. Control and submit.

  She’d spent her life fighting. I’d spent my whole life giving.

  For once, she wanted to surrender. For once, I wanted to take.

  Yin and yang.

  The sun kept me from seeing her face, but the tension in the car was palpable.

  “You’re wrong.”

  I’d had enough of this back-and-forth bullshit. Jerking the wheel to the right, I pulled the car over to the side of the road and threw it in park. Unbuckling my seat belt, I pressed one hand against her headrest and the other against the dashboard.

  “Am I? Then tell me you wouldn’t have loved it if I’d pressed your hands against the wall and made you watch while I took out my cock and stroked myself. Tell me you wouldn’t have wanted me to grab you by the back of the legs and slam you into the wall so hard it would’ve knocked the breath out of you.”

  “Brody…”

  Taking a chance, I leaned over the console until there were only inches between us, her breath heavy as I took her face in my hands. “I would’ve stood there making you both fear and want what I would’ve done next, and when you were about to break, I would’ve driven into you so hard, you would’ve screamed mine and God’s name until you cried. It would’ve been rough and brutal until we both came harder than we’d ever come in our lives.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. Mesmerized, I brushed my thumb against it. She rewarded me with a whimper, wrapping her hands around my forearms.

  “Adriana…” I groaned, my voice rough.

  “Yes?”

  Grazing my lips across her cheek, I traced them against the shell of her ear before whispering, “I win.”

  I pulled back just as her eyes popped open and her jaw dropped. Letting out an almost inhuman growl, she flung herself back into her seat as I put the car back in gear and pulled onto the road wearing a satisfied smirk.

  Yin and yang.

  * * *

  She didn’t talk to me the rest of the way, and by the time we got to the stash house, it was dark, which was a good thing since it was exactly what I expected it to be—a piece of shit. A run-down barnyard red box house. Not the most subtle of colors, but that was probably why Val picked it. No one in their right mind would think the most feared man in Mexico would paint a bright red bull’s eye on himself. Which is exactly why he did.

  Human instinct was trained to dismiss the obvious.

  Adriana’s face puckered as soon as we walked in the door. Granted, the sheets slung over the windows and the stained mattress on the floor didn’t scream hygiene, but unless she wanted to sleep in the back seat of the Toyota, we didn’t have many options.

  Of course, saying the words out loud probably wasn’t the best idea. After growling at me, she stomped into the shoebox of a bedroom and slammed the door.

  An hour later, she still hadn’t opened it.

  Not that I’d tried to see what she was doing. I had enough on my mind without wasting time trying to decode her hot and cold routine. Grabbing a bottle of scotch from my backpack, I kicked one of the splintered chairs away from the rickety kitchen table and sat down, not even giving a shit when the bottom rung snapped in half.

  Fuck it. If I fell, I fell.

  Unscrewing the cap, I tipped the bottle back, draining a good four shot’s worth before taking a breath. My throat ignited, and my eyes watered, but I welcomed the burn. I knew from experience it was only temporary. A few more like that, and I’d feel nothing. Numb and sedated. Just the way I liked it.

  Besides, drunk me was a hell of a lot more rational than sober me.

  With eighty-proof logic coursing through my veins, I could devise a plan on what to do about the shitshow my life had become without all the useless guilt getting in the way.

  Men like Val and Mateo were born in this life possessing the ability to compartmentalize their conscience. I wasn’t wired that way. I felt like Jekyll and Hyde molded together and stuffed into the same suit. The constant conflict between fighting to hold on to the honorable man I was and fighting the monster clawing inside my chest was wearing me down. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before Hyde turned on everyone.

  Of course, that was provided I lived long enough for it to be an issue. Letting out a huff, I turned the bottle up again. Val knew I went against a direct order and contacted Ronan Kelly personally to set up the Chicago port. If that weren’t damning enough, when the Muñozes hijacked my shipment, not only did I not come clean, I let myself get backed into four different corners by Leo Pinellas and Adriana Carrera. Luckily, Val hadn’t said shit about going through another Colombian supplier yet. Dragging Carlos into the mix might send him over the edge.

  Dropping the bottle between my legs, I scrubb
ed a hand over my face, unfamiliar stubble raking across my palm. “What a fucking mess.”

  “You’re just now realizing that?”

  I rolled my eyes to the side, ready to tell her to go back into whatever hole she crawled out of when my mouth went dry and every drop of blood in my brain free fell straight to my groin.

  Adriana leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed, wearing Leighton’s Texas State University T-shirt.

  Wearing only her Texas State University T-shirt.

  It hit her mid-thigh, leaving the rest of her long shapely legs to spill out of the bottom. My eyes went all unfocused, and all I wanted in life at that moment was for her to bend over.

  My hand fell from my chin, almost knocking the bottle off my chair.

  Cocking a hip, Adriana traced the pad of her index finger around her bottom lip. “Everything okay? You look a little flustered there, counselor.”

  That’s the understatement of the year.

  I didn’t have to look down to know my cock was about to punch its way through my pants, so I dragged the bottle tight against my crotch. “Did you need something, or did the rats get tired of your bullshit too?”

  “Funny.” Pushing off the wall, she pulled out the chair beside me and flopped down, legs splayed.

  Fuck me.

  Her T-shirt rode up her thighs, and my dick leaped with a battle cry, fighting against the constraints of the bottle. I looked everywhere but directly at her, and when she leaned forward with her hand extended, I wondered if it was possible for a human penis to shatter glass.

  I pushed my chair back. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

  Whatever it is, do it fast.

  And hard.

  With both hands.

  Jesus, where did that come from?

  She paused, her hand hovering over the bottle. “I’m shoving this bottle up your ass if you don’t let go.” When I didn’t move, she sighed and wrapped her hand around the neck. “Brody, it’s been a shitty day, and I want a drink. Are you going to make me beg, or not be a giant dick for once?”

  “You said you didn’t drink.”

  “Forget it.” Shoving the bottle against my chest, she stood to leave when I grabbed her arm. It went against everything common sense told me to do, but I didn’t want to be alone. “Fine, sit down. I’m the last one who should be casting stones here.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue, slowly sinking back into the rickety chair. “Hand it over,” she demanded, holding her hand out for the bottle, but I shook my head and dug around in my backpack until I found what I was looking for. She lifted an eyebrow as I slid a crystal shot glass adorned with a golden crowned skull clutching a rose in its teeth. “You stole one of Val’s personal shot glasses?”

  “Correction,” I said, pulling out an identical glass. “I stole two of Val’s personal shot glasses.”

  I filled them to the top and threw my shot back immediately while Adriana wrapped her fingers around her glass, the corners of her mouth turned down as she stared into the liquid. I recognized the look on her face. I saw the same one etched across it last night.

  “Do you want to tell me about your dream now?”

  “It was nothing.”

  “It didn’t seem like nothing. I’ve never seen you that shaken up.”

  Adriana glanced up, her mouth twisting into a snide smirk. “You’ve known me for all of four days.”

  “I was an attorney, Adriana.” Ignoring her little pretend yawn and eye roll, I poured myself another shot. “My job was to read people the minute they stepped up on the witness stand. I was damn good at what I did.”

  I prepared myself for one of her smartass comebacks but looked up to find her staring down at her glass again in silence. Finally, she gave it a spin, scotch spilling over the rim and soaking into the wood. “Do you ever have a feeling that no matter what you do things are going to end badly?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, lifting another shot to my lips. “Every day of my life.”

  “Come on, your life can’t be that bad.”

  Slamming the glass on the table, I sat back with a bitter smile. “The only girl I ever loved dumped me for the man who kidnapped her, and now I’ve sworn an oath to kiss his ass for the rest of my life. How’s that?”

  “You really love throwing pity parties for yourself, don’t you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, boo-hoo,” she whined. “My unrequited love married someone else, and I can’t get over it, so even though the man she married defied tradition and made me, a white man, second in command of an entire cartel, I’m just going to be a little bitch and whine about it.”

  “Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  She jumped to her feet, her hands clenched into fists by her side. “Why don’t you try watching the cartel you grew up believing was your destiny implode in front of your face? I ran for my life because I found out what you’d done. Instead of taking what I’d rightfully earned, I was shunned.”

  “Adriana…” Not sure what else to do, I stood and held out a hand, unprepared for her to slap it out of her face.

  “That was my time to shine, Brody.” Balling her fist, she beat it against her chest. “That was my chance to show everyone that Marisol Muñoz was smart and brave and capable. That was my time, and you cheated me out of it!”

  This time, I didn’t back down. If we were doing this, we were going to do it. I was tired of dancing around it. What better place to have a shitty showdown than in a shitty shack in a shitty part of Mexico. Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my hands around her shoulders and pulled her toward me only to have her twist out of my hold.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. Swiping the back of her hand across her eyes, she picked up the still full shot glass off the table and stomped into the kitchen. Even from across the room, I could hear her labored breathing as she fought for control. Dumping the contents of the glass down the drain, she tossed it in the sink and braced her hands against the counter. “Hijo de su puta madre.” Son of a bitch. “Everybody causes cracks in me, Brody. Maybe you’ll be the one who finally breaks me.”

  I watched her. I listened. And then I finally learned.

  Adriana Carrera was a damn liar. She claimed she didn’t want me to touch her, but nothing could be further from the truth. She pushed me away because she used control not only as a weapon but as a shield. But it was breaking her piece by piece until eventually there wouldn’t be anything left but a shell.

  Despite our differences. Despite our past. Despite our dislike for each other, there was a magnetic force drawing us together. Energy that left alone was destined for self-destruction, but combined, it ignited a power capable of deadly strength.

  Her vulnerability awakened the monster in me.

  And he was ready to feast.

  Chapter Twenty

  Brody

  Pouring one more shot, I tossed it back and followed her into the kitchen. I didn’t ask permission. I just placed both hands on her back, feeling her body go rigid and still. Without saying a word, I dragged them down her spine to the small of her back and rounding over the ass that had played a starring role in every single dream since she stormed into my bar. Her broken groan was music to my ears, but I didn’t allow myself to linger. Stepping forward, I grabbed the indentations in her hips.

  “I said, don’t touch me,” she rasped, her breath stuttering.

  She didn’t mean it. We both knew it, so I pushed her into the counter, grinding against her ass. “Quiet,” I commanded, dipping my nose into her hair. The minute I got a whiff of her sweet licorice scent, my cock swelled. “The rules from the game stand. You have to do what I say, no questions asked.”

  Adriana opened her mouth to argue, so I dug my fingers into her hips. As expected, she shut it. Such a small power play spoke volumes.

  “Look at me.” The minute she tilted her cheek toward me, I traced my lips across her jaw, slowly making my way to her ear. I was treading
on dangerous ground, but the high was too addictive not to chase.

  “I—” she whispered, trying to turn away, but I cut her off by sliding one hand from her hip up to her throat. I stroked my thumb over her pulse, feeling it dance under my command.

  “No questions.”

  I watched the conflict play out on her face. Her every instinct told her to fight me, but she didn’t. Rolling her lips over her teeth and pressing them together was her single act of defiance. I wasn’t pissed. In fact, it made me smile. I knew her rules against kissing, and I had no intention of breaking them. Besides, I didn’t want her mouth.

  Reaching under her T-shirt, I ran my hand along her stomach, feeling her sharp inhale as I toyed with the lace at the top of her panties. Her fingers curled around the counter and the steady thump thump thump of her pulse under my thumb detonated as I slipped my hand inside. I closed my eyes at her tortured groan and sank my finger deep inside her.

  Fucking hell, she was wet, and I couldn’t get enough. I pumped faster, adding a second finger. The more I pumped, the tighter her walls gripped me, and I almost came undone imagining what they’d do to my cock.

  Adriana’s head flopped back against my chest. “Oh, fuck.”

  Keeping up my brutal pace, I shifted my hand, pressing down on her clit as I thrusted. We weren’t looking at each other, but neither of us cared to. This was primal need in its most basic form. Adriana’s clenched hands shook against the counter as she whimpered, a sound magnified by the feel of her ass grinding against my cock.

  Jesus, if she didn’t stop, I was going to come in my fucking pants.

  “Give me what I want, Adriana,” I growled in her ear. Curling my fingers, I sought out the one spot I knew would bring her to her knees.

  “Shit!” she screamed, shaking violently. “Oh, dios, por favor no pares. No pares.”

  No worries, princesa. I have no intentions on stopping.

  “Scream my name, Adriana, or I swear I’ll throw you on this counter and eat your pussy until you pass out.”

  I hit the fleshy button inside her again, and she erupted like a volcano, convulsing and clawing my arm as her ear-piercing scream rattled the thin windows. “Brody! Brody! Brody!”