Faded Gray Lines (Carrera Cartel Book 2)

Home > Other > Faded Gray Lines (Carrera Cartel Book 2) > Page 10
Faded Gray Lines (Carrera Cartel Book 2) Page 10

by Cora Kenborn


  I knew he wasn’t good, but I was drawn to him. He swept in like a dark knight on a black cloud, his danger calling to me on a level I didn’t understand. I craved it—needed it more than my next breath. I didn’t know who he was, but something inside me knew what he was.

  That, it itself, made him all the more tempting.

  I lifted my chin. “You never told me anything about yourself.”

  “You never asked. So I guess that makes us even.” A hint of anger flashed across his bronzed features.

  “Even?” I laughed. “Go to jail twenty more times. Maybe then you’ll be halfway there.”

  “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. You think being behind bars makes us even? Don’t patronize me, Mateo. I’ve listened to your excuse, and I’ve apologized for yelling at you, but if you think I’m going to put up with your sanctimonious bullshit, you can go fuck yourself.”

  “Stop it.” His words were sharp.

  “Stop what, telling the truth?”

  He shook his head. “Acting out. You forget how well I know you.”

  “Is that a fact?” Once again, I pushed past him, and once again, he blocked me.

  “Yes, that’s a fact. You’re trying to provoke me because you’re scared. You want to fight me because you’re in too deep and don’t know which way to turn. You’re mad because you thought you had us all wrapped up in a bow to hand over to the DEA, but I showed up and fucked up your plan. Does that sound about right?”

  I snorted, rolling my eyes so hard they hurt. “Not even close.”

  “You say you hate me, but you won’t turn me in any more than you will Brody,” he pushed. “Do you want to know why?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Because regardless of what this says...” He pressed the tip of his finger against the corner of my mouth and drew a line all the way across my bottom lip. “...this says something completely different.” Lowering the same finger, he traced an invisible line down my throat and hovered it over my left breast before opening his palm and pressing it over my heart.

  His touch felt magnetic, as if the tips of his fingers were the positive charge to the dead negative I’d carried around for so long. Skin to skin, he ignited a spark, breathing life into the hole left inside me when I walked away from Houston.

  “Matty...” I hated how needy and weak I sounded. I wasn’t either of those things. I’d survived so much in the last four years on my own, and I didn’t need anyone—least of all a member of the cartel I planned to destroy. However, today had been one crushing blow after another, and his comfort was a confusing solace.

  His eyes met mine. “I won’t be your out this time, Star. Deal with having me around and get over it until this is finished.”

  Finished.

  Curling my lip into a sneer, I knocked his hand off my chest. “What are you going to do, turn me over to your boss?”

  He answered my sneer with one of his own. “I could. One phone call from me is all it would take to snap this pretty little neck. No DEA agent, police officer, or even a brother on the inside could save you.”

  There it was—the proclamation I knew had danced on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be set free. Running my fingers through my hair, I pulled at the roots and squeezed my eyes shut. “God, you’re no better than them. The DEA, Luis...you’re all alike. All of you can go to hell for all I—”

  The rest of my tirade became lost in a flurry of motion. Mateo growled low in his throat, and before I could open my eyes, he had me pinned against the island again. This time, he gripped my hip with one calloused hand while digging the other into my hair and winding his fingers around the strands. He pressed our mouths together, the closeness wreaking havoc on my equilibrium. Our lips barely touched, but I felt naked as if he’d already possessed me.

  Stillness hummed between us, yet he made no move to speak. I wanted to fight, but the need to give into my craving was too strong. His threats of brutality should’ve scared me, but instead, I was seduced.

  “Mateo—” I tried one last time to reach him. Or maybe I was reaching for myself—the one I’d left in a bloodstained apartment in San Marcos.

  My breath, voice, and thoughts were cut off the instant his tongue invaded my mouth, probing with insistent strokes until I could do nothing but respond. Mateo’s nails dug into my hip and scalp, and his groin pressed against me, forcing my fingers to curl around the edge of the island to keep from grabbing him. Our mouths could tell a thousand lies, but our bodies betrayed them all. Heat surged between my legs with every frantic kiss, and each accidental moan I made hardened his cock even more against my stomach.

  I thought I heard him groan my name, but with lust rushing through my veins and roaring in my ears, I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was that one minute I was standing, and the next, I was lying flat against the cold marble with Mateo on top of me. When his hand slid from my hip and cupped my breast, I cried out his name, the sound garbled by his scorching kisses.

  Breaking for air, he trailed his full lips across my chin and kissed a path down my neck before settling them into the hollow of my throat. Sucking my skin into the heat of his mouth, he reached for the rim of my tank top. I knew what he wanted and why he paused. I could’ve stopped him, but I didn’t.

  My silence gave him all the encouragement he needed. With a hard jerk of his wrist, he yanked the stretchy fabric of my tank top and bra under my breast, leaving it exposed like a prize. Sliding his hand farther into my hair, he twisted it with a hard pull, causing me to arch my back and gasp. It wasn’t accidental. The move situated me perfectly, my nipple less than an inch from his lips. With my head thrown back, I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the moment he wrapped his lips around the hardened peak and sucked.

  I saw stars. Not the kind we’d search for in the night sky, but the kind that blinded me, leaving me gasping for air and numb with desire. Rolling his deadly tongue over the peak, he captured it between his teeth, and heat bloomed in every crevice of my body.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I reached for him and dug my fingers into his hair. Whimpering, I moved against him, needing more.

  “More?” he rasped, letting my nipple slide slowly between his teeth.

  Shit, did I say that out loud?

  “I...I...”

  His hand danced a heated path down my stomach, and I groaned as he trailed a finger across the denim between my legs.

  “You have to tell me what you want, Star,” he commanded, his voice raspy. “If you want me to touch you, you have to ask nicely.”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Mateo drew his hand back up my shorts and popped the button. Holding my stare, he pulled down the zipper and dipped his hand inside. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, please?”

  His tongue invaded my belly button, sending my hips arching off the marble. “Not good enough. I want to hear you say my name—my real name.”

  I ground out every syllable. “Yes, please, Mateo.”

  Immediately, a switch turned off, and the man who’d been devouring me like his last meal became a block of ice, removing his mouth from my skin as if it were poison.

  “That’s right,” he said, his words harsh and cold. “Mateo. Me. Mateo. Not Luis. We’re not all alike, and I am better than that motherfucker. See, here’s the difference between him and me, Leighton. He had no morals...no self-control. This is self-control.” Slowly, he made a show of pulling his hand out of my shorts and then braced both of them on either side of my face.

  I gazed at him in shock, simultaneously furious and mildly impressed at how well I’d just been played.

  Leaning down, he hovered his swollen lips over my ear, his smile evident in his voice. “Don’t ever compare me to him again.”

  Fifteen

  Leighton

  We didn’t speak again. I lay on the island, catching my breath as the refrigerator door slammed, followed by the sound of a bottle cap hitting the f
loor. Speechless, I stared at the ceiling, listening to Mateo chug a beer while I gathered what was left of my self-respect.

  I told myself it was a good thing he put a stop to what was happening between us. Too many mistakes had been made to cross that line. Regardless of who held the most blame, Mateo and I were forbidden from the moment we met. We should’ve known it would come to this.

  By the time he chucked the bottle into the trash, I’d already slid off the island and was watching him, wishing he’d say something—anything. Instead, he motioned for me to follow him and then disappeared down a darkened hallway. I rocked back on my heels, debating whether to trust him or run for the door. Unfortunately, I had nowhere else to go. Sucking in a deep breath, I fumbled my way down the hall and hesitated at the door.

  “Well, are you just going to stand there all night, or do you plan on coming inside?” Mateo leaned over the bed, his dark hair framing his face as he ripped the comforter halfway down. He’d already taken off his jacket, exposing the roped muscles in his arms.

  I motioned toward the sleigh bed that was covered by a comforter so thick I swore it called my name. “Are you turning this down for me?”

  It pained me to give in, but after a full day at the cantina and a night of chaos, fatigue won the battle.

  “No.” Holding my eye, he reached over his shoulder and pulled off his T-shirt from the back. “I’m turning it down for me, but feel free to do the same when you get in.”

  His chest was a litany of colorful ink, a living work of art drawn over hardened planes of muscle. It was all I could do not to stare. “You’re not sleeping on the couch?”

  A clang of metal snapped my eyes back to his face. I tried to remember how to breathe as he unbuckled his belt. His gaze darkened, a closed-off stare holding me prisoner while he unzipped his pants and slid them down his legs. “Why would I do that when there’s a bed right here?”

  “Because that’s what a gentleman is supposed to do for a lady.” I tried to sound unaffected as he stripped down to his tight black boxer briefs. As much as I commanded my eyes to look anywhere else, they had a mind of their own.

  “Good thing I’m not a gentleman and you’re no lady.”

  “Excuse me?” Popping a hand on my hip, I redirected my shock toward his insult. “You’ve got the first part right, but I’m most certainly a lady, you—”

  “Leighton?”

  “Hmmm?”

  He pointed two fingers at his waist then dragged them toward his face. “Eyes up here.”

  Shit! Was I still looking at his cock?

  “Fine,” I huffed, snatching a pillow off the bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  I never saw him move. One minute, I hugged the pillow to my chest, and the next, he had me face down on the bed with my wrists twisted like a pretzel.

  “I don’t think so.” His challenge sent a chill up my spine. “Look, you may not think much of me anymore, but I gave Val my word I’d look out for you until we clear this thing up.”

  I strained my neck, gaping at him in shock. “You want me to sleep with you?”

  “As I recall, you used to enjoy it.” Mateo’s words woke something wildly primitive in me. He was right. I did enjoy it, but fear and the knowledge of who he was clouded the memory. A low chuckle rumbled from his bare chest, and he patted the mattress beside my head.

  I considered putting up a fight, but figured, why waste the energy? We were both rational adults, and rational adults could manage to sleep in a bed together without having sex.

  Right?

  Replacing the pillow, I climbed under the covers and pulled them up to my chin. Mateo crossed his arms and raised a slanted eyebrow at my blanket cocoon. “You’re sleeping in your clothes?”

  “Yep.”

  Shrugging, he climbed in beside me and rolled on his side, his leg draped dangerously close to mine. “Suit yourself.”

  “You said you gave Val your word you’d watch out for me,” I mused, staring at the ceiling, while trying to block out the thought of his naked skin next to mine. “Did you mean Valentin Carrera?”

  “I’m not discussing this with you, Leighton.”

  “Are you going to tell Brody everything?” I did my best not to flinch while waiting for his answer.

  “About you bugging his apartment and planning to sell us all out to the DEA to save your ass?”

  “The way you say it makes it sound way worse than it is.”

  He snorted. “You mean out loud?” Mateo’s gaze briefly lingered on my face before he let out a frustrated sigh. “Provided you’re straight with me, no, I won’t say anything. It would just put you in more danger, which compromises the whole reason I’m here.”

  “But doesn’t that go against some sort of cartel code?” I asked.

  “I’ll answer to Val when the time comes. Until then, as long as you run every move you make by me before you make it, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

  I nodded and rolled over. Silence was my only line of defense because I was too far in to back out now. I had to play both sides as far as I could in this twisted chess game before one of them checkmated me. Twice now, I’d run when threatened but no more. Whether I cut the head off the dragon or went down swinging, I wouldn’t back down from this fight. The lives of the people I loved were at stake, and their safety meant everything to me.

  As the man beside me slept, I admitted the truth to myself. I’d never stopped loving Matty—even if he was Mateo Cortes. However, I wasn’t complying with him out of a love still stuck inside a vacuum. Regardless of what he said, I had no illusions as to the choices he’d eventually be forced to make. Valentin Carrera would find out about what I’d done, and Mateo couldn’t protect us. I wasn’t even sure he’d try.

  A shrill ring from under the bed woke me up the next morning. Groaning, I flopped halfway off the mattress and blindly swiped my hand underneath the wooden bedframe. Finally finding my phone, I held it up and squinted at the time display at the top.

  Seven o’clock in the morning.

  Someone had better be dead.

  Then I recognized the number flashing on the caller ID.

  Fuck, I wish it were me.

  I froze, annoyance turning to panic when a debilitating thought hit me. Oh shit, there was no way I was having this conversation lying beside...

  Wait, where the hell was Mateo? Wiping my blurry eyes with my free hand, I noticed the opposite side of the bed was empty with a twinge of disappointment. So much for looking out for me until we got this mess cleared up.

  The incessant ringing stopped then started again as I realized a glass of orange juice and a single apple were sitting on the opposite nightstand. Fuck it. If he planned to leave me to the wolves, I planned to be fueled for the fight. Swiping the apple with a heavy hand, I cursed as the phone quieted then immediately rang again.

  Damn, she broke her three-call rule.

  Resigning myself to what had to be done, I answered, every muscle in my body coiling in dread. “Good morning, Mother.”

  “Why did I have to hear from your brother that you’ve returned home?” Her crisp aloofness filled my ear like an old friend—a controlling bully of an old friend who liked to trip you in the hallway and steal your lunch money.

  Ugh, Brody and his big mouth.

  I tossed the apple in the air. “Because this isn’t home. I’m only here until I can pull together enough money to go back to San Marcos.”

  “Well, we must catch up now that you’re here.”

  I bit into the apple. “I’m on the schedule most days at the cantina. I’m not sure I’ll have time to—”

  “Leighton, I’m trying,” she interrupted with a dramatic sigh. “I know things weren’t ideal between us when you left, and I take my share of the blame for that—”

  “Ideal?” I choked, fighting to swallow. “Mother, we’ve barely said two words to each other in almost four years. I was a piece of furniture to you. A doll for you to dress up and parade around your campaign
functions.”

  “It was a very stressful time in my life.”

  “Stressful? I lost my father!”

  “I lost my husband.”

  “Funny, you didn’t even wait until he was cold in the ground before you plucked another one off the replacement tree, did you?” Fire rushed through my veins, her calm response provoking a need to lash out. “He was a ripe one too—all golden and shiny and dripping with money—just like you always wanted.”

  “Leighton Brooke, I know I haven’t always done right by you, but I’ll not have my own daughter speak to me this way. I’m the mayor of this city.” Her declaration made me laugh. She wore her title like a badge, flashing it all over town like an all-access pass.

  “For now. Polls are reporting a tight race.” I waited for the explosion, but once again, I underestimated her.

  “My constituents know the value I add to my community,” she said, ignoring my jab. “They trust I’ll clean up the streets and take them back from this cartel infestation. They’ll come through for me.”

  “And if they don’t, you can always buy them.”

  Either she didn’t hear me, or she chose to ignore me. “Leighton, darling, I don’t want to fight. Let’s use this opportunity for a fresh start. If your father’s death taught us anything, it’s that none of us are promised tomorrow. It would be a shame for things to end with this rift between us. Don’t you agree?”

  I didn’t give a shit one way or the other. I had bigger things on my mind. “I suppose.”

  “Splendid,” she cooed. “Finn is throwing me a wonderful campaign party this Wednesday at his country club. It starts at eight o’clock, so try not to be late. You know how I feel about lateness.”

  Of course. It’s one of the seven deadly sins.

  The apple threatened to crawl back up my throat, but it wasn’t because of my resistance to conformity, or her insulting invitation. It was because the last time I attended one of her campaign parties, I ran away from it in a panic straight into Matty’s arms. Also, she said his name. He was throwing the party.

 

‹ Prev