Glitter and Greed (Brooklyn Brothers #4)

by Melanie Munton

  I just never thought that one of them would end up being my sister.

  I picked the glass back up and drained the rest of my drink. “Everyone knows the Garcias are behind the disappearances, but no one is stupid enough to say it out loud.” A sarcastic puff of breath left me. “Not that it would matter if they did. The cartel is protected, of course. These missing women are reported, but the police never make any progress on their cases because at least half of every department is on the cartel’s payroll.”

  I didn’t even notice Luka had left the room until he was coming back to refill my glass with more tequila. “Gracias. I don’t usually drink much.”

  No explanation needed to be given for why I felt so compelled to now.

  “Anyway,” I pushed on. “I started digging around after Luciana went missing, and New York kept popping up. Then I found out that the owner of Rumors is reported to have ties with the cartel’s drug business.”

  “Which is why you got the job there?” he concluded. “To see if anyone knew anything about the missing women?”

  “It was a long shot, but it was all I had to go on.” I toyed with the hem of my dress, my leg bouncing up and down. He probably thought all of this sounded so ridiculous. A nobody stripper thinking she could find her missing sister in a city of eight million people. “I know she’s in New York. One of my sources at Rumors told me about the fighting ring and that it might be linked to the human trafficking.”

  “Your sources?” he hissed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus, Cat. You’re making yourself a target. If the owner hears about one of his girls asking questions she shouldn’t be asking, it wouldn’t be hard for him to get rid of you.”

  My fingers curled into my palms until my nails bit into my flesh. “You think I don’t know that? Unlike you, I had no connections in this city. I had to make my own. I couldn’t just sit back in Mexico and twiddle my thumbs while Luciana was sold off to God knows who and trafficked to God knows where. If she leaves New York, chances are I’ll never see her again.” I looked away so he couldn’t see the sheen of tears in my eyes. “She might already be gone.”

  He blew out a long, heavy breath. “How much do you know about the cartel?”

  My throat burned as I fought back more tears. “Not much. Other than the human trafficking, I know the Garcias were at war with Diego Suarez, the Miami drug lord, before he was killed. Where I grew up, the less you know about them, the longer you live.”

  Luka gnashed his teeth, paced a few times, then stopped. Planting his palms on the wall, he lowered his head and pulled in deep breath after deep breath. I watched in fascination as he restrained whatever urges were clawing at his insides. When he eventually turned back around to me, his face was mottled with rage.

  “The man I spoke to after my fight tonight reportedly has connections with a man they call El Escorpion.”

  My head whipped up. My eyes bugged out of my skull.

  That name coming from Luka’s mouth didn’t just send tendrils of fear snaking throughout my entire body. It paralyzed every muscle with unspeakable terror, to the point that I couldn’t even get my lungs to work enough to breathe.

  Luka watched my reaction carefully. “According to our information, he might be the one calling the shots with the women down in Mexico.”

  My mouth was too dry. This time, I didn’t care when my hand shook as I emptied my glass.

  “Have you heard that name before, Cat?”

  How much to tell him? We were opening doors tonight that we couldn’t lock, let alone shut, behind us. Between all these revelations and honesty—and what happened down in that tunnel—I didn’t know what this meant for Luka and I. It couldn’t mean we were headed toward a relationship, I knew that much. My entire existence in New York was predicated upon finding my sister. If I found out Luciana wasn’t here, there was no reason for me to stay.

  Nothing about my time here was permanent.

  It would all end, sooner or later.

  Which meant getting involved with Luka would be unfair and frankly, painful. I was already feeling a little too attached to this man. Too comfortable. He didn’t only make me feel safe and protected, which was an entirely new experience for me, and one I found that I liked immensely. Luka also made me feel…valued. Like I actually had something to offer, something worthwhile. I wasn’t just a nice pair of tits or an extra set of working hands to help provide for the family.

  He treated me like I mattered.

  That what I said mattered. How I felt mattered. Everything I did…mattered.

  To my astonishment, I realized I felt the same way. More than anything, Luka’s safety mattered to me. So, I was going to protect him just like he’d protected me from my strung-out neighbors. Just like he’d wanted to protect me tonight from all the dangers in a place like The Slaughterhouse.

  And protecting Luka meant shielding him from the truth.

  I already knew too much. That’s why I feared my days were numbered.

  But I could save Luka from the same fate.

  “I’ve heard the name El Escorpion,” I whispered shakily. “Everyone I know has heard it. But I don’t know anything about him. He’s like the boogeyman.”

  Only I knew this boogeyman was very, very real.

  Because in my case, he hadn’t just existed in my nightmares and vanished the second I opened my eyes. He’d been lying in bed right next to me after I’d woken up. My nightmares had melded with reality until my life had become one inescapable horror film.

  I’d been sleeping with the Devil.

  “I can help you, Cat.”

  My eyes darted to Luka’s to find them burning with intensity.

  “You don’t have to do this alone. We can work together. Ultimately, we both want the same thing.”

  His words were like a lifeline that I wanted to grab ahold of and wrap around me. “Why do you want to help me so much?” I flicked my wrist around the apartment. “Giving me a place to stay, a job, offering to help me find my sister. We barely know each other.”

  I knew he wanted me on a physical level. I’d felt the bulge in his pants too many times to be unaware of his attraction to me. But men didn’t go to these kinds of lengths just to get laid, did they? Especially not a man like Luka, who could literally have any woman he wanted with no more than a nod of his head.

  His answer shocked me.

  “Because you’re the type of person who deserves to be given things in life. Not have them taken away. And I have a sister.”

  Gia.

  I liked her a lot. She was down to earth, soulful, and hilarious. I could have seen the two of us becoming good friends if staying in Brooklyn was a realistic possibility for me. At all.

  But it’s not.

  “And I’d turn all of New York upside down if someone took her,” Luka continued in a harsh voice. “What these assholes are doing is wrong, and they’re doing it in our city. Our neighborhoods. You need someone like me who knows the right people in the right places. And with your insider information, you might be able to fill in some of our blanks. We can help each other.”

  Dios, I wanted to believe in this man. Mainly because I’d had too many people in my life who never came through for me. I wanted just one person I could depend on. One reliable person to support me when my legs gave out. To be there with a hammer and nails whenever my heart splintered to pieces.

  You don’t have to do this alone he’d said.

  I was so sick of being alone. Of having this massive weight sitting on my shoulders with no one around to offer to carry it every now and then. Someone to actually catch me before I hit rock bottom.

  Was Luka capable of all that?

  The look on his face was daring me to ask that question out loud. To prove that he wasn’t capable of it. He acted like he was just waiting for me to throw everything I had at him, just so he could crush it all beneath his thumb and say that all you got, baby girl?

  I almost forgot what I was wearing until I crossed the r
oom to stand before him. His gaze lowered to my curves that were being showcased in the clinging dress. The muscles in my belly clenched with need when his pupils dilated. Then his eyelids shuttered when the already short hem cinched up my thighs. By the time I stood less than a foot in front of him, his fists were clenched so hard his knuckles had turned white.

  “Okay. We’ll help each other.” I held out my hand, my fingertips tingling. “Partners?”

  My arm began to drop when he didn’t move for several moments.

  Finally, he snapped himself out of his stupor and clutched my hand. I winced when he squeezed a little too hard. He immediately loosened his grip, his eyes full of apology. Then he frowned and raised my hand to examine my right index finger where one of my press-on nails had fallen off.

  I flushed with embarrassment and tried to pull my hand back, but he wouldn’t let go. “All the girls at the club do temporary nails, so they can change them out with their outfits.”

  As icky as that made me feel to say out loud, it was better than admitting I just couldn’t afford to pay for a professional manicure. It was the kind of frivolous spending I couldn’t justify when I had informants to pay off.

  Keeping my hand in his, Luka carefully popped each and every one of my fake black nails off. My breathing stalled as he performed the task with more tenderness than I would have ever thought a man like him capable of. It felt like he was peeling back a layer of skin, seeing a side of me I’d kept hidden away from everyone. Because the layer underneath was ugly and riddled with scar tissue from wounds that had never fully healed.

  Once he was finished, his thumb traced over each of my naked, bare nails. “You’re a natural beauty, Cat. There’s absolutely nothing to improve on or to hide.”

  My lips parted.

  He saved me from responding when he quickly added, “Partners. I give you my word that we’ll find your sister.”

  I knew how stupid it was to put my faith in a man I barely knew, but I couldn’t deny it was happening.

  And it scared me to death.

  Because the last man who made me promises and conned my trust from me, was now trying to kill me.

  Another early morning.

  Another trek downstairs to burn off my excess energy.

  I’d actually slept somewhat well, falling easily into a pleasant slumber shortly after Luka left the apartment. My blood had been warmed by his compliments, promises, and assurances that he would help me find Luciana. For the first time since I arrived in Brooklyn, I’d cozied up in bed with a smile on my face.

  Then the nightmares hit.

  Visions of whatever hell Luciana was going through. What her torturers could have been doing to her. I hadn’t closed my eyes again after that.

  I needed something to take my mind elsewhere. Something to make me forget. And only one thing had ever managed to accomplish that.

  I opened the door to the gym to see most of the house lights already on. My pulse took off like a bullet shooting down the barrel of a gun. The last time I stumbled upon this scene, I’d found Luka alone. Shirtless. Pounding away at the bag.

  That’s when I heard the showers in the men’s locker room.

  The sound halted me in my tracks as I debated the wisdom of advancing another inch in that direction. Bottom line, there was no wisdom in the decision to keep going. But like I said, I wasn’t looking for wisdom right then. I was looking for—

  Escape.

  Evasion.

  Extrication.

  With every step toward the locker room, I felt it nearing, growing brighter and brighter until it nearly blinded me. The hope of breaking away, just for a moment, from every grisly reality in my life. And when I entered the locker room and turned the corner to the showers, I found it.

  My relief.

  My reprieve.

  My…salvation.

  Luka stood in one of the individual shower stalls, running his hands through his wet hair, swiping the slick strands off his rugged face. The walls separating each stall were waist high, so I could see everything from his eight-pack up. Water droplets fell from his dark eyelashes, dripping into his short beard, and eventually sluicing down his tattooed pecs that nestled his silver crucifix.

  He was heartachingly beautiful.

  When he turned to shut off the faucet and stepped out of the stall—

  I was hypnotized.

  I stood there, utterly transfixed, as he walked a few steps to the wooden bench where he’d left his towel. The way his thigh muscles clenched with every step captured my gaze. The way his biceps flexed as his hands unconsciously tightened into fists. His tattoos seemed to almost come alive when his body moved that way.

  And, of course, there was no missing that cock.

  Even soft, it was long and thick, bobbing between his muscular thighs. The bulbous head was smooth and glistening from the shower. The thatch of dark hair above all that manhood made his package that much more…male. Luka was one hundred percent alpha male. Dominant. Commanding. Virile to his core.

  Wait…was that…?

  Oh, sí. It was.

  Luka was pierced.

  That was definitely a barbell running straight through the tip of his dick. I guess he wasn’t kidding about being able to handle pain. I could only imagine how good that would feel inside me.

  He bent down to grab the towel.

  His head snapped up.

  When our eyes met, his instantly darkened. With blown pupils, his entire face heated with erotic intention within milliseconds of making eye contact. Had he been thinking about this all night too? Had he been unable to concentrate on anything except getting his hands on my body? I was suddenly sucking in so much air, I was afraid I was going to pass out.

  The towel slipped from his fingers.

  He straightened to his full height, broad shoulders bulging as he stared me down. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said as his chin notched up. Telling me to come to him. Our desire was as thick as the dense steam wafting in the air. It wrapped around us, pulling us closer, holding us tighter.

  I needed him so bad, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  Our bodies crashed together in a wild collision of grappling limbs and seeking tongues. Fingers digging into my hair, he held my head in a fierce grip as his mouth plundered my own. My whimpers turned to moans as my nails clawed at his bare flesh. His massive shaft hardened into an erection as soon as we made contact. I wiggled against it, rising up onto my toes to try and get it between my legs instead of against my belly.

  A growl ripping from his throat, he bent his knees and lifted me up.

  My back slammed against a row of lockers.

  That clanging of metal harmonized with our bawdy panting. The wicked cacophony of copulation echoed off the concrete walls of the room. His grunts of pleasure were the notes composing the sweetest symphony of sex. The hot flare of arousal had everything below my waist on fire for this man. My legs wound around his hips and held him tighter, mashing our lower halves together.

  What followed was the lewdest, filthiest grinding session in history.

  He smeared the pre-cum leaking from his tip all over my spandex shorts. When he dragged his tongue up the length of my neck, I caught it in my mouth and sucked on it with loud slurps. His cock swelled bigger against me, increasing the pace of his dry thrusts. Tearing his mouth away, he started ripping at my sports bra, trying to release my breasts. Because my chest was so large, I needed tight bras with extra support. Getting them on and off could be a real pain in the ass.

  “Get this goddamn thing out of my way.”

  The first words spoken in this room heightened the lust, heightened the need. With frantic hands, I yanked the bra over my head and tossed it away. When my breasts spilled out, his mouth was ready and waiting. His lips latched onto my taut peaks and suckled. Over and over again until he had me on the verge of orgasm just from his nipple ministrations.

  I was lost. Disoriented.

  The steam swirling around our heads w
as drugging. I didn’t know up from down. Left from right. All I knew was where Luka’s mouth and hands were and where I needed the rod between his legs to be.

  He held me off the ground as I lowered my legs to shove my shorts and panties off. He was so strong, he didn’t have to let me go. As soon as they were discarded on the floor, he easily guided my legs right back into place around his hips. He wasn’t breathing any harder from his exertions, only from his lust. He didn’t break a sweat from his efforts, just from his need to fuck.

  Completely naked now, we came back together in a melding of hungry—starving—mouths. Swiping tongues, swollen lips, guttural moans. The primitive nature of it was so pure and real. Pinning me to the locker by his hips, he braced one hand against the metal door and grabbed his cock at the base. Staring down at that barbell, I licked my lips unconsciously.

  He smirked knowingly. “Like that, do you?”

  I nodded.

  “It’s going to feel fucking unreal when your cunt’s choking it down.”

  He aimed and drove right in.

  Bare. Unsheathed.

  It was wrong, yet so right. Unsafe, yet I had never felt more protected than when I was in Luka’s arms. Debauched, yet so, so beautiful.

  “I’m gonna rip right into this tight as fuck pink pussy,” he snarled in warning. “And when I’m done, baby girl, you’re gonna know with goddamn certainty that no one on this earth will ever give it to you better.”

  Sí, I had no doubt of that.

  He always followed through on his threats. A man of his word.

  “Don’t forget to make it hurt, corazón.”

  His upper lip curled into a sneer. “You think I’d forget what my girl needs? What the hell do you think I’ve been jacking off to in my office for the past three weeks?”