The Pimp (Colombian Cartel Book 2)

by Suzanne Steele

  Diego

  The feel of her hand on my face is enough to turn my cock to stone. Every time I’m around her, it’s always the same. I want her. Lying here in bed with her, with my torso pressed to hers, I want to mark her, take her, dominate her. I want to do all of those things and then start over and do them again.

  Her voice is soft and intimate in the stillness. “I like this whole five o’clock shadow thing you’ve got going on. You should keep it.”

  She’s studying me, trying to figure me out. Even her hands are inquisitive as hell as they slide over my jaw, her fingertips grazing the whiskers there. Her soft, feminine appreciation of such a masculine physical trait makes me want to stand on the roof and beat on my chest with my fists. I’ve always been an arrogant bastard, but with a look or a touch she makes me feel ten feet tall.

  I like having her hands on me, which says a lot about this woman. Now, I’ve never had a problem with being touched, especially when I’m fucking. When I’m inside a woman, she can put her hands pretty much wherever she wants. But other than that, it’s usually ‘hands off’. It’s hands off for anyone else now, that much I know. But not for her.

  I don’t mind Brook’s touch – hell, I crave it -- because I know she isn’t using me for prestige or money; she wants me. It’s the first time I can ever remember a woman, other than Foxy, being interested in me and not what I can buy for her or do for her. Yes, without a doubt Brook needs my protection, but I’ve practically had to force her to accept it and not try to run again.

  There’s an ongoing joke about cartel novias, about how they sit at home and watch telenovelas and shop while we go out to torment the enemy. I don’t see Brook being that type of woman, but I’m still debating how involved I’m going to let her be in cartel business. For this next job, of course, I’m going to need her to be front and center. Not much of a choice there.

  “You like that, hmm? Yeah, roughing up those silky thighs of yours with it is something I’m going to enjoy.”

  She blushes, then cradles my jaw and gives me a long, steady look. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me feel safe for the first time in my life.”

  “You are safe, querida. I’ll put a bullet between that son of a bitch’s eyes if he gets anywhere near you.”

  “Why’d you seek me out and send for me in the first place?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, woman. Tell me, what was it like the day they came down into that pueblo of yours and told you I had sent for you? That I wanted you to come to me.”

  “Everybody knew who you were. The girls wanted to be me and the men wanted to be you.”

  “Sounds like high school.”

  “For some women, it stays that way long after graduation.” She looks up at me expectantly. “So when do I start pulling my weight around here?”

  Brook

  Before I see it coming, his hand clamps around my throat. It isn’t tight enough to cut off my air supply but that doesn’t stop the fear that rolls through my body.

  “The only time you work is when we’re doing a job together. You’re cut out for this life, but you need training and guidance. Don’t ever let me see you with a customer. You don’t dance, you don’t wait tables and you damn sure better stay away from these guys in here, even my guards. It won’t take long for the word to get out. People will be scared to get anywhere near you.”

  He brushes his whiskers against my cheek and whispers in my ear. “I’m marking you tomorrow, with something that leaves no doubt in anyone’s mind that you belong to me. I’m going with the same tattoo I have: the Colombian Equis snake. I just have to decide where…”

  I run my fingers over his bicep where the snake winds its way up and around, eventually slithering across his chest. At the end of the swirling length is the snake’s head, its mouth gaping open, fangs bared, and fire leaping from its eyes.

  “It’s beautiful. But why the snake?”

  He stands and flips me over onto my hands and knees. He begins taunting me, rubbing the swollen head of his cock up and down my already drenched slit. The connection I feel with Diego is like a supernatural force that has wrapped around me, much like the snake I was just tracing on his body. He’s squeezing a lifetime of stubbornness and resistance out of me with his caveman possessiveness.

  My hands clench the sheets in desperation as he pushes into me. He nuzzles my hair briefly before clamping down on my neck with his teeth, releasing his hold to whisper, “Because they strike with no warning. When they do, they’re aggressive and fearless. Even if a victim can get to a hospital for anti-venom, they’ll probably still lose a limb. A reminder to take them seriously. It’s the same with you and Santiago. He made a big mistake: he underestimated you. For the rest of his days that leg injury will remind him of his mistake. I’ll never make the same mistake, Brook.”

  I groan with pleasure as his cock slides against my inner walls. “I love how you fuck me, Diego. I don’t ever want it to end, never stop fucking me…”

  He slides his hand beneath me to work my clit in a way that has me hurtling headfirst into an exquisitely intense orgasm. My whole body is on fire for him and as he slams into me over and over, he makes it clear that he’s not done yet. “That’s it baby, give me everything. All your fears and worries, let them go. I’ve got big shoulders, baby, and I can carry it all for you.”

  That’s exactly how I feel as my senses burst apart once more in pure pleasure. Every shred of stress falls away from my mind and my body, leaving nothing but the sweet, redeeming peace I’ve found in this man’s arms.

  Chapter Twenty

  Diego

  I reach into the small ornate cigarette box, lighting a spiff and taking a long drag before handing it to her. I’m careful to pull up the sheet over her chest so she doesn’t get burned.

  “Diego, you make me feel impregnable, like nothing can get to me. But the fact is that I shot a cartel boss. Those guys don’t play. I need something on him.”

  I take the spiff from her and taking another hit, allowing the relaxing effect to invade my senses before I respond. “That’s where I come in. You and I are going to set Santiago up. That way, his cartel will take care of the rest.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “It’s what I do, gather Intel. I’m a student of human nature, I’m always observing what’s going on around me. I’m a natural at finding out people’s deepest secrets. There’s no greater power than watching someone when they don’t realize they’re being watched. They let their guard down and you get to see them without their mask.”

  “I bet his house is a fortress. If we can even get in, what are we looking for?”

  “Journals, transaction records. Cartel always keeps good records even if they are old school about it. They figure journals are fine because it’s all in code that no one can break. In a way, I guess that is better than a flash drive. Drug money has to be laundered. In the end, he’s his own worst enemy; he’s been running drugs on Escondido’s dime.”

  “Ah, the elusive Escondido—‘the hidden one’. They say that hardly anyone has ever seen his face.”

  “It’s true. There’s no denying Sinaloa cartel has risen in the ranks of power. Doing this will not only take care of Santiago, but it will strengthen our Colombian peace treaty as well. Plus, it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun with you along for the ride. I could tell that you were a natural to live the cartel life; the rush you’ll get from going on the hunt will make you want to do it over and over. Come here and let me show you something.”

  She follows me to a loveseat where my laptop is open on the coffee table. I pull her onto my lap and idly stroke the velvety skin over her flat stomach as I pull up the video feed. One tap on the mouse pad and – voila – we’re looking at a massive house.

  “What’s that?”

  “That, my dear, is Casa Sanchez.”

  “You’ve had him under surveillance all this time?”

&nbs
p; “Damn straight, I have. Just a couple of rooms in his house though. Not his warehouses. He moves those locations around so much, we’ve never been able to get a read on those.”

  “How’d you manage it?”

  “Santiago’s got it bad for Foxy, he’s been trying to get between her legs for at least a year. She never mixes business with pleasure and she limits her work to stage numbers and table visits with lots of teasing – and lots of tipping. He invited her to a party one night. She had no intention of going, of course, but I convinced her to take one for the team. I sent her there with cameras, bugs, and trackers. She not only managed to get those placed, but somehow that girl managed to get his security code. She softened him up by saying something about turning to him if she ever needed somewhere to stay because she’d been fighting with her boyfriend. He saw that as his ‘in’ with her and of course let her make herself at home during the party. He’s blinded by his attraction to her. If I have my way, it’ll be his downfall.”

  “So he saw it as a chance to get in good with her.”

  “Exactly. He’s got guards so he figured she was no threat. She led him on, which is something I never do. I don’t lead women on. I’m straight up about what I can and can’t do.”

  “Like you were with Selena? Is that why she took up with someone else?”

  I take firm hold of her chin, tilting her face toward mine. “Selena’s in the past. I never thought of her as my future. I’m here in the present with you. That situation was nothing like what I envision for us.”

  “And what’s that?

  I slide my fingers through her silky, black hair and clasp the back of her head, bringing her lips close enough to meet mine in a series of searing kisses that I use to emphasize what I’m trying to tell her.

  “A monogamous…kinky...deeply satisfying…partnership in crime.”

  She laughs against my lips, so I do the right thing and keep them occupied for a while. She’ll understand soon enough that I’m dead serious about my plans for her.

  Eventually I pick her up and carry her over to the bed, turning out the light as I slide in behind her. I pull her ass back against my erection, which has a mind of its own and is obviously not ready to give up just yet. With a sigh, I nestle my stiff cock between her ass cheeks – sort of my way of tucking him in for the night. Not the best idea if I plan on us catching any sleep, but I figure it’s a compromise of sorts.

  I nuzzle her neck and lightly bite the tender spot I sampled earlier, eliciting a sleepy giggle and a tempting hip wiggle against my long-suffering hard-on.

  “Time to go to sleep, Arroyita. You’ve got a big day tomorrow. Getting tracked and branded is going to be hard work.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Brook

  “Wake up, baby, Vincent wants us there early and what I’ve got planned for you will take most of the day. Here, take these. It’ll help with the pain.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just a couple of Ultram, you’ll be fine.”

  I take them with a glass of water and head into the bathroom to shower. I can hear his voice behind me before I close the door.

  “Just throw on jeans and a muscle shirt. You don’t need makeup today. And wear your hair down for me. You’re a natural beauty, so let me just enjoy the view.”

  His compliments bring a smile to my face. I still haven’t figured out how a man as ruthless as Diego can be so…sweet. One thing’s for sure: mistaking his kindness for weakness would be dangerous. The irony is not lost on me that, although he’s saving me from my enemies, there’s no one to save me from him.

  I’m curious about the comment he made last night about us working together. The monogamy part sounds good to me. And I like the idea of being partners in crime. Sitting around watching TV while my cartel boyfriend works isn’t appealing to me at all. That may be what most cartel women do, but I’m not most women.

  By the time I finish my shower and get dressed, Diego is ready and waiting on me rather impatiently. I’m glad he’s looking forward to this. There are about a million things I’d rather be doing today.

  “Come here.”

  I walk up to him, curious about what’s put the cryptic smile on his face. I get my answer when I leave the house wearing a bright, shiny new pair of diamond stud earrings. It’s like he’s finding different ways to mark me. Interesting.

  The drive to the tattoo shop is quiet, and I turn to him as we approach the front entrance to the shop. As he holds the door open for me, I have a moment’s hesitation. “You’ll be with me the whole time, right?” I ask urgently.

  He turns me to face him, running his hands up and down my arms reassuringly as he bends his knees enough to bring his face down to eye-level with me. “Of course I will,” he says gently. He straightens and his features harden as he adds, “I’m not leaving you in here alone with a man while he touches you – even a man I trust.”

  I look up at him with a frown. “You don’t have to put a chip in me, you know. I don’t want to run away anymore.”

  “The chip isn’t just to keep you from running, although I’ll probably sleep better at night knowing you have it,” he says as he puts his hand on the small of my back and pushes me forward.

  The Sweet Ink tattoo shop’s lobby has a simple front desk and chair for a receptionist, and framed photos of intricate tattoos on the wall behind it. The seating area has a small couch and coffee table, and another wall filled with prints depicting images for the customer to choose from. The shop is empty because it doesn’t officially open for another hour.

  Diego continues his explanation as he walks past the front desk, clearly looking for someone. “The chip would help me find you if you’re kidnapped. That’s a very real threat, I’m afraid. This isn’t a game, Brook. This shit’s life and death serious. In my world, these guys don’t just kidnap; to them torture is an art form. The cartel has a saying that a chainsaw is their truth serum.”

  He nods at someone in the back and gestures for me to join him. We walk down a short hallway to a sparsely furnished room that smells reassuringly like antiseptic. There is a padded table, a couple of chairs and a tool chest of sorts, full of ink and tools of the trade.

  We’re alone in the room for the moment, so I lean a hip against the table as Diego continues.

  “Trying to convince a sadist that you don’t have the answers to his questions is impossible, so they prolong the process. They’ll start by cutting off the pinky finger, then move on to the more important ones. Next, a hand. They might mix it up with a beating along the way.”

  “That’s awful,” I murmur, cringing at the images he’s filling my head with.

  “For a woman it can be even worse because they don’t just want to make her suffer, they want to degrade her.” He tilts my chin up to emphasize his next words. “And they will use her to humiliate her man for not protecting her. If she belongs to an enemy cartel member, even better; they might molest her, rape her, do whatever they want. Then they’ll dump her where her man or his soldiers are sure to find her. If she’s still alive by then, she probably wishes she wasn’t. She’s traumatized, recoiling at the slightest touch. But that’s how they operate, it’s how they prefer to send their enemies a clear message: ‘We’ll come after everything you love. Nothing is sacred or beyond our reach. And we’ll leave you alive to endure the pain of devastation and loss, the kind of pain that lasts a lifetime.’”

  “Yes, it does.” A deep, unfamiliar voice rings out from behind me. I turn toward the door and see him: a big guy, covered with tattoos, of course, and awls in his ears. As he leans down to clasp my hand in a firm handshake, he smiles indulgently at Diego’s low, territorial growl.

  “I’m Vincent, Diego’s personal tattoo artist, nice to meet you. Let’s get started.”

  He and Diego exchange a one-armed man hug, complete with good-natured back thumping. I hop up onto the edge of the table and let my legs swing freely above the floor. Vincent tears open an alcohol swab and it’s coo
l where he swipes it over my shoulder. An intense but brief pinch and he’s finished.

  “I thought it would hurt worse.”

  “No, it’s as small as a grain of rice. Now, the tattoo, that’s gonna hurt, I’m afraid.”

  “That grain of rice may save your life one day,” Diego says grimly. “I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight though.”

  Vincent looks from me to Diego. “This one must be special to you, my man. I’ve never seen you go to this extent to keep an eye on one of your women.”

  I’m flattered when I hear Vincent say that. I trust Diego but it’s still good to hear that I’m special. Diego’s a pimp so it’s hard not to assume he’s a player. Everything I’ve seen up until now, though, is showing me he’s being honest with me.

  “She’s not just one of my women, Vincent. She’s going to be my partner in crime in every way.”

  Vincent turns toward me, although his words are still directed at Diego. I can see the apprehension on his face as he clinically scans my body from head to toe. “Where do you want this Equis, this nasty little pit viper?”

  Diego’s dark eyes are locked onto me, grabbing hold of someplace deep inside me like they always do. I’ve never known a more intense man in my life. “Take off your jeans.”

  With a frown and a quick glance at Vincent, who’s suddenly very busy arranging his inks and tools, I slide my jeans off and lie back on the table. Diego turns me onto my side, laying a hand heavily on my hip and rubbing his thumb back and forth over my hip bone as he gestures for Vincent to join him. With these two leaning over me, I feel like an exhibit at the zoo.

  “I want the end of the snake to start just here, in between the two dimples right above her ass. See? Have it extend up her hip, curve here and then make its way over her stomach. I want his head right here below her belly button, fangs bared.

  “Awesome, man, I love it,” Vincent murmurs as they circle the table and stop just behind me.

  “You’ll use deep brown, bright orange, and yellow inks that blend with her beautiful skin,” he says as he again caresses my hip in a blatantly possessive move, this time pressing his thumb into one of the dimples he was talking about. “Oh, and one more thing. Add Propiedad de Diego Dias below the snake’s head, just above her pubic bone.