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Outlaw's Virgin:: New Adult Romantic Suspense (Zodiac Alphas: Cancer Book 1)

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by Gia Star




  Table of Contents

  Luke’s Epilogue

  Cancer Men

  Luke

  Kara

  About Gia Star

  Also by Gia Star

  Outlaw’s Virgin

  A Zodiac Alphas Romance

  Gia Star

  Contents

  Cancer Men

  1. Luke

  2. Kara

  3. Luke

  4. Kara

  5. Luke

  6. Kara

  7. Luke

  8. Kara

  9. Luke

  10. Kara

  11. Luke

  12. Kara

  13. Luke

  14. Kara

  15. Luke

  16. Kara

  17. Luke

  18. Kara

  19. Luke

  20. Kara

  21. Luke

  22. Kara

  23. Luke’s Epilogue

  About Gia Star

  Also by Gia Star

  Copyright © 2017 by Gia Star

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cancer Men

  Loving the Cancer Man

  Birthdates: June 21 - July 22

  Element: Water Sign

  Strengths: Loving, Sympathetic, Creative, Loving, Sensual, Protective, Adaptable, Tough

  Weaknesses: Moody, Overreactive, Jealous, Pessimistic, Sensitive, Clingy, Aggressive

  Still waters run deep, and as water signs, Cancer men tend to be the strong, silent type women crave. Cancer men are creative, masculine, traditional, and deeply loving. They take a long time to open up, but when they do, oh honey, what a treat!

  Cancer men love feminine women who own their womanly charm and sex appeal. That being said, don’t try too hard to be anything you’re not. A gorgeous dress now and then doesn’t hurt, but a Cancer man will love you just as you are.

  In love and romance, Cancer men move slow - at least on the surface. Cancer men are intuitive, yet guarded. They need time to feel you out before making decisions.

  To get close to a Cancer, pay attention to what he says. They’re men of few words, and when you listen, he feels heard and acknowledged. Be genuine, and say what you feel - Cancer men can sense lies from a mile away. Last but not least, don’t be afraid to show your feminine side. The vulnerability is endearing and makes you precious in the Cancer man’s eyes.

  As amazing as these men are, even Cancer men aren’t perfect. Cancer men are known to be temperamental. Their moodiness can be tipped off by the slightest thing, from the tone in your voice to the weather. They also love hard and fiercely - but this comes with a healthy slice of jealousy. Don’t make him compete to keep your love, or he’ll retract so deeply into his shell it’s as if he was never there.

  Luke

  Beads of sweat slid down my forehead as I stood under the hot sun. Outside graduations were the worst, especially when they were held in cities known for their triple digit heat waves. Why anyone didn’t suggest an indoor ceremony was beyond me.

  “Good morning everyone. Welcome to the Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University Spring Graduation. In just a few moments, we will begin. Please remember to silence your phones…”

  My arms were folded as I stood in the shade. I was tired, but I didn’t need to sit on any of those burning metal chairs. They gleamed in the sun, antagonizing my eyes, and my desire to rest.

  I sighed, wishing I could get this over with. I came for one thing: to pick up Kara Taylor. No fuss, no muss. She knew to expect me. This would be simple, and over with soon enough.

  A couple passed by with two adolescent kids trailing behind them. One of them was holding a mini-cooler.

  “Kid,” I called out. “You got any ice waters in there?”

  The kid, cracked open the cooler and handed me a bottle. He started to walk away when I called to him

  “Good deeds never go unrewarded,” I said, handing him a $20. His eyes widened in surprise. I lifted my finger to my lips and winked. “Our secret. Thank you.”

  He smiled, his toothy, brace-filled grin showing dimples. He reminded me of my little cousin, Pete. He nodded and skittered to catch up to his family.

  I twisted the top off the sweaty bottle of Poland Spring, grateful to quench my parched body as I leaned against the wall. Music started to play as the announcer rounded our attention toward the stage.

  A prestigious aeronautical school wasn’t the usual collection spot. Antonio’s women were a little less… ambitious than the one I’d be picking up today. The women I usually fetched were involved in all sorts of activities from drug dealing to prostitution. Many were also addicts of some sort. None of them were graduating with a degree in aeronautical engineering.

  Kara had to be a special case. Antonio sent me all the way out here, to Phoenix, Arizona to pick her up. Alone. I was the only one he trusted to get her. He never does that. We were headed straight to Vegas once I’d met up with her. I wondered what her story was.

  Mine was simple. Antonio was the man who took care of me when my parents neglected me.

  My father, a Mexican illegal desperate for a green card and the American Dream, ran off with another woman after he realized my mother was nothing more than gorgeous trailer trash from New Mexico.

  From what I heard, he seduced and impregnated a young woman in the Air Force; 18 years old and just as naive. They left Kirtland AFB about a year or two afterward. I don’t remember much of my dad, although there are a few pictures of him, my mom, and one or two of us together. I’ve inherited his deep tan and chiseled features, but they’ve been whitewashed enough to make me look more Mediterranean than Hispanic.

  My mother had me when she was only 16 years old. Her mom was strung out on drugs; her dad was nowhere to be found either. She often drowned her sorrows in soap operas, transient men, and bottles of cheap liquor. Once I hit thirteen, it was clear that I was really on my own.

  People who’ve never been there have this impression that New Mexico is a quiet, underpopulated little state. Silent rolling prairies, mountains,and adobe houses. The truth’s quite the opposite. This vast state had a bevy of criminal troubles as vast and varied as its terrain.

  Albuquerque was no exception. Between the inability to connect with the positive experiences of family life, or the ability to share cool stories of a mother or father deployed and serving the country, I was an outcast. I couldn’t focus on school, mainly because I wasn’t forced to. And I never knew what I would come home to, because my mother’s moods were predicated on whether or not she had enough to drink, or needed to shoo me out the small trailer we shared to entertain her boyfriend of the week.

  I spent lonely nights on the street. I Ignoring the evening nights with a couple of stray dollars in my pocket led me into the wings of Antonio Lopez. I remember him like it was yesterday.

  “Aye, chico!” He called out as he walked out from a restaurant. He wore a sharp black suit and the shiniest black wingtips I’d ever seen.

  I felt the air shift when I walked up to him. He was sharp, distinguished, with a million dollar smile. It gleamed in the evening street lights, and sparkled with confidence, money, and all the things I hoped for, yet thought I’d never have.

  “It’s almost ten o’clock. What are you doing out so late?” He glanced at his wristwatch, and then clasped his hands and waited for
my explanation.

  “My mom’s not finished with… dinner. She asked me to get something from the supermarket.”

  Telling the truth wouldn’t have been right. I didn’t trust anyone with the God honest truth.

  My mother’s not finished sleeping with another fat, sweaty truck driver or horny, married airman for $40 and a bottle of liquor.

  “What does she need at ten at night that she can’t get herself?” Antonio’s eye cocked curiously. His eye twinkled despite the serious expression. He gave off the air of an inquisitive uncle; a caring one who was getting ready to catch his lying pre-teen nephew in his own bullshit.

  “Uh, eh…” I shrugged.

  “Have you eaten, chico?”

  I shook my head. My stomach rumbled loudly at the thought of food. I only ate once a day, one of McDonald’s Dollar Menu cheeseburgers. I was tall and lean, growing quickly despite the lack of calories in my diet.

  “Come inside.” The order was gruff. He sounded very angry, annoyed by the realization that a kid like me was neglected and starving on the street.

  He pointed toward a table in the corner, told me to have a seat. He fired off in Spanish to one of the waitresses. I don’t understand a fucking thing he said at the time. I only heard the word rapido, which I only understood to mean whatever he wanted, he wanted it done fast.

  The waitress nodded, her eyes widened in fear and submission. She went to the back, and then emerged, walking to my table with a basket of chips and salsa. I could smell the authentic flavor through the heat vapors. Each chip had a light sheen and sparkled with light salt crystals.

  “Te gustas, pollo, chico?” She asked. “You like chicken?”

  “… Uh… yes.” I nodded. Anything but fucking ground beef would do.

  “Sí.” She nodded, smiled. Her doughy arms fished out a notepad as she wrote down an order. “Coca-Cola? Sprite?”

  “Coke.”

  She smiled again. “One moment.”

  I gnoshed on the chips and salsa, digging in like I hadn’t eaten in ages. Because, aside of shitty burgers, I hadn’t.

  I didn’t see the man again until the waitress brought out the food. She brought out a huge plate stacked high of. chicken tacos with authentic corn tortillas, tamales, chicken empanadas, and a healthy serving of rice and beans. Everything was steaming hot, fresh from the kitchen

  My mouth watered. I almost cried right then and there. I wasn’t a punk, I just never remembered eating that good in my life. It was like a fucking dream come true.

  The man approached with a beer in his hand. “I’d hand you a cerveza, but you’re not at that age yet, chico.”

  He slid into the booth and sat across from me.

  “Eat up. As much as you want. Whatever you can’t finish, you’ll take home for you…” He smiled. “…Y tu madre.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  He waved me off. “No problem chico. You’re welcome here anytime you want. Tell them you’re Antonio’s nephew.”

  He paused, as if he just remembered something.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Luke… Ruíz.”

  “Antonio Lopez. Tío Tonio for you, nephew.”

  And so every evening, I would come to Antonio’s restaurant and get a good meal. Over time, he would have me come in after school. He’d have someone come in and help me with my homework. My grades steadily improved. By the time I graduated high school, I was almost valedictorian. I definitely graduated with honors.

  During summers, I would do odd jobs for Antonio. They started off small and innocent. Bring this package to this address and collect the money. Pick up this package here… and here’s $20 for you to get something to eat.

  The money was good. The food was good. I was able to get my mother and I out of that shitty trailer. Actually, Antonio did that after a few months. He said it wasn’t the place for a growing businessman to reside. We moved to a two bedroom apartment that was modest, yet quite the upgrade from our previous digs.

  I didn’t have any plans for college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Being around and near Antonio meant being provided for. I didn’t ask for or need much. Just the simple things, and perhaps a few books or movies. I wasn’t even interested in girls, but they came with the territory.

  I grew up fast with Antonio… but it came with a price.

  When I was 19, I was arrested during a sting operation along with several other of Antonio’s men. Detectives questioned us about things I hadn’t heard about, but wouldn’t have been surprised to confirm. I didn’t know anything, but the detectives threatened to throw charges at me for everything from drug trafficking to bank fraud. In the end, thanks to Antonio’s connection, I only pled guilty to one thing: bank fraud.

  Of course, I had nothing to do with Antonio’s alleged bank fraud. I didn’t even know this was going on. They just couldn’t pin anything on me. I didn’t have a record, so instead of going to trial, the lawyers and Tonio thought pleading guilty would lead to probation, and a shorter sentence.

  They gave me six hard fucking years. It wasn’t bad compared to the triple life sentences of some of the other guys got. A few others ended up dead, either before they were sentenced or behind bars.

  Prison wasn’t easy. It wasn’t fun. But Antonio promised to take care of me, and he did. I didn’t have to worry about watching my back, becoming anyone’s bitch, or my mother’s care. There was always money on the books and regular visits from Antonio and the family. I even had a prison guard, a decent looking chick, who worked for us on the inside. She gave me head when I needed it.

  It’s been a year since I’ve been out, and while the business has changed, I’m dealing with the same tío Tonio: my father figure, my provider, my mentor,my uncle - even though we were blood through decision and not relation.

  I’d become exposed to more of his business dealings. It wasn’t anything pretty, but my loyalty was deep enough that I’d do things I wouldn’t have otherwise.

  Including picking up a pretty and unsuspecting girl like Kara, so she could immediately repay her debt to him.

  “Kara Taylor,” the announcer stated.

  Cheers rose through the crowd. I watched her. Her graduation gown covered her body, but her sparkly heels as she stepped and styled hair sent a message of glamour and beauty that could be seen - even from way back in the shade.

  My heart started to beat faster. I wasn’t focused on women or love, but there was instantly something alerted inside of me by her mere existence.

  I checked the time, and suffered through what had to be another forty-five minutes of name calling. If we were only on last names with the letter T.

  Once the class was officially graduated, there were more cheers. My eyes never left Kara on stage as I walked toward her, determined to meet the beauty with the sparkly heels. It was a challenge, but I managed to catch up to her as she walked towards two women, one seemed like an older version of her. I assumed it was her mother until she said, “Hey Auntie! Thank you!”

  The woman to the side of them was young, about her age. Best friend more than likely. They didn’t look anything like sisters.

  I stood back, observing them. I wanted to freely enjoy and admire the gorgeous black-haired beauty, taking in her pretty green eyes, glittering with excitement as she posed for selfies.

  “This is the best day of my life!” She squealed, hugging the black girl next to her. The girl was caramel with blonde streaks in her curled hair.

  “Hell yeah! I’m soooo proud of you best friend!” She told her.

  “Congratulations, love!” Her aunt said, tears in her eyes. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

  “I know.” She became misty eyed at the mention of him. “I’m just hoping to continue his legacy.”

  She wasn’t going to enjoy the next few years of her life. She was probably going to regret her decision. Nothing would be the same again. But she didn’t know this… for now.

  She was s
o different from Antonio’s other girls. She was intelligent, bright and effervescent.

  She was ethereal, gorgeous, and more beautiful than any other woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I’d seen my fair share thanks to Antonio’s dealings. But I also knew how those women ended up.

  A pang of guilt stabbed me as I realized this girl was truly clueless. I wasn’t going to be the executioner of her fate, but I was guiding her there. She thought she had a bright future ahead of her.

  She really had no idea what she was in for.

  Kara

  My graduation should have been, undoubtedly, the best day of my life. In many ways it was. I finally got my bachelor’s in aeronautical engineering, something I’ve chased all of my life. But some of the most important people in my life weren’t here to share in the joy.

  My father died a couple of years ago. What should have been a couple of drinks with friends, ended up being his last hurrah. He was run off the road by an unknown vehicle.

  My mother contracted cancer less than six months after his death. She was unable to work and her medical bills were out of control. At the tender age of sixteen, I got a break from a local businessman by the name of Antonio Lopez. He owned several companies, and believed in giving back to the community.

  I’m not sure how he heard about my situation. But I do remember us meeting one night at his restaurant. He fed me the most amazing Mexican food I’d ever had, and gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse: sign for a loan with him, one that would cover my mother’s cancer treatments and our expenses. When I turned eighteen, he asked about my plans for school and amended the loan to cover my tuition at Embry-Riddle.

  The only thing I needed to do? Give my word to work for him for three years upon graduation.

  Antonio revealed he was opening a casino in North Albuquerque, and buying ownership into another one in Vegas. Depending on staffing needs, I would probably be working in one city to the other.

 

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