Saving Bonnie: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 2)

by Sahara Roberts

  “I wondered how that happened. The results look messy, and that’s not like you.” She’s been doing this long enough to recognize when something’s not right. “What did the vehicle look like?”

  “Tan, midsize SUV. Driver might be a woman.”

  Mate holds up her phone. “May have your driver. Female just rolled an SUV across the river. She blew past the barriers at the construction area around the curve from the bridge. She went through the windshield and broke her neck.” She swipes then pinches the screen, extending the image. “This it?” She turns the screen to show me the picture of a familiar SUV.

  “Yeah. Looks like the same one. See if they can find a portable console. It was on the dashboard as she went by.”

  “That model SUV has a high center of gravity.” She types the question as she keeps talking. “With an inexperienced driver, the weather, and a construction site, you have a recipe for disaster.”

  “So why are they calling you to get her?” Shouldn’t be a need for a cleaner on a single-car accident.

  “They may want to avoid any possible liability with the construction. Or someone doesn’t want a record of the accident. We’ll see if they ask us to restage somewhere else.” The phone vibrates, catching her attention. “It’s your girl.”

  “Put these two guys in with her and figure out how he’d get two holes in his chest.” I glance at Bunny for a meaningful second. “That should take care of any questions from the family.”

  “Happy coincidence.” She shoves the phone in her pocket. “I’ll send someone to spray the street once the rain stops.”

  I nod. “Do what you need to do.”

  She turns to the counter. “We gathered the to-go menus and discarded some flyers.”

  The neat stacks cover the corner of the thick glass. To the casual observer, it would seem like nothing happened.

  “But we still have a problem.”

  Is it too much to ask for things to go off without an issue? This is exactly why I don’t get involved in other people’s shit.

  “One of the stools caught a bullet.”

  Oh, well it’s not as bad as what I expected. “Get rid of it.”

  “It’s going to cause a problem.” She looks at me over the rim of her glasses. “There are three chairs. Split log, sturdy stock. And they’re in several pictures.” She stretches out an arm, indicating the wall in front of us. “By the look of the backgrounds, they go back forty to fifty years.”

  Which means someone’s bound to notice, maybe ask questions. And that’s the last thing we need at this point.

  “My grandfather made those when my grandma started as a street vendor in Nuevo Laredo.” It’s her again, with those eyes focused on mine from where she’s sitting, begging for understanding.

  Goddammit. Here we go again with the sentiment. I turn to Mate. “Can you fix the damage?”

  Mate’s lips quirk at one corner, as if she’s going to smile. It’s her tell, letting me know she sees an opening and is going to exploit it. “It’s going to cost you.”

  Of course it is. We seriously need to talk about expenses. Considering I paid for her education, she should at least offer a damn discount. Or family pricing.

  “Get it done,” I reply, disgusted.

  She twirls her finger in the air, and the group starts moving, all at the same moment. They exit one by one, leaving the gear to be taken at the end, now that the rain stopped. The bodies are next, stacked inconspicuously in the cart and drum.

  “I’ll add it to your bill.” She gives a two-finger salute then they’re gone, as unobtrusively as when they arrived.

  Turning to Bonnie and those soulful eyes, I plan my next move. I can’t imagine a woman like her giving in to such a calculated plan, so I call her out, knowing she’ll cave. Then I’ll have carte blanche to get Cord in the building. “You need help. You need protection. You need security.” I let my gaze sweep down her body, all the way to her toes before I meet her eyes again. “And I get an all-access pass.”

  She waivers, her tongue darting across her lip as she mentally reviews her options. But I’m not about to let her imagination run away with her. So, in one calculated move, I reach back, pull a condom from my wallet and slap it onto the corner of her metal table. “Well?”

  *****

  Bunny

  The condom sits on the corner of the table, taking up more space in the room than what’s under the foil packet. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. I can see it in his eyes. What’s worse is he’s right, and it burns me to no end he can read me so easily. Part of me wants to slap the egotistical expression right off his face. The other part of me is grateful to be alive—grateful to the man who made it happen.

  If this was a movie, I’d be throwing myself into his arms, wanting to show him how grateful I really am. The same rush I got when he was holding me against him is pushing past everything else, overwhelming me. But this isn’t a movie, and I’ve never been the hero’s girl.

  My shoulders droop. I’m tired of being pushed around. Tired of being on the edge of losing out. Tired of not being given a second thought unless somebody needs something from me. It’s been like that my entire life. So I swallow hard, grit my teeth, and force my wobbly legs to push me up.

  He takes two seconds to react, and that’s just a tiny hitch of his left eyebrow. I’ve surprised him. Good. I’d like to hang on to a sliver of pride.

  What he’s offering isn’t something I’d pick under normal circumstances. But it buys me a week and a half to figure something out before going down in flames, because we Bustos women can be stubborn sometimes.

  I approach him, gathering determination with every step. He’s handsome. Not movie star good looks, but something deeper, darker, and infinitely more dangerous. The kind of guy my mother warned me to stay away from. The kind of guy who can take a life to save mine and not be fazed one bit. The menacing air around him is like catnip to me now that we’re alone. I have to be careful when dealing with him; I can’t let myself get involved.

  He narrows his eyes. The hand he has on the table is curling into a fist. Does he want to touch? Is he trying to keep from doing so? The closer I get, the faster my heart races. Maybe I should just be grateful it’s still beating after what almost happened tonight.

  I wet my lips, drawing courage to set him straight. “The offer was to bend me over.” Somehow I manage to keep my voice reasonably steady as I draw the line. Though fighting the heat blasting across my cheeks is another matter.

  His gaze sweeps over my face. “I’m negotiating.”

  “I’m not.” I lean my hip against the sturdy table, trying hard to pull off bravado.

  His lips soften, and the rest of his features lose their steely edge. “Then we should head upstairs.” He reaches for me, finally, but I move away.

  “No.” Sleeping with him…having sex in my bedroom, would be much too intimate. This is more of an agreement, an exchange of services that should stay miles away from anything personal. As much as I hate to admit it, we should do it here, in the one place I feel in control. I’ll deal with the consequences later.

  Tino remains impassive.

  “Here.” I turn to face the table, bracing against the rounded edge. He takes his sweet time to make the next move. Meanwhile my muscles are aching with tension.

  Stretching a leg, he knocks over the box where I was sitting, using the tip of his boot. I flinch at the sharp slam, even though I watched everything he did. Then he kicks the heavy box over like it weighs nothing more than a soccer ball. One more drag of cardboard against floor, and he sets it where he wants it. “Step up.”

  Without a word, I turn my back to him and step onto the box. I rein in my emotions and stare straight ahead, waiting for him to make his move.

  “Are you planning to undress?” His tone is laced with sarcasm. He’s taunting me, asking when, not if it’s going to happen.

  This is beginning to feel like a game of “Call my bluff” I can’t afford to lose. I rea
ch for the button on my shorts and open the zipper in a defiant stroke. Though I can’t see him behind me, his presence looms around me. I’m conscious of every move I make, as if he’s watching while every muscle tenses and release. Hooking the elastic at the waist of my panties, I push them down and wait for his instructions. The cold metal of the table presses into my belly. Nothing else is coming off. This is a business arrangement, not anything remotely personal.

  “You think you can do this without feeling anything?” He sounds amused.

  The heat of embarrassment bubbles over, setting my face and chest on fire. Yes, taking past history into account, that’s exactly what I thought. But I didn’t expect him to be able to read me this easily.

  I flinch slightly as his hand cups my hip, his fingers splay across my pelvis with possessiveness. A heady sensation blasts into my chest and at my core. My eyes widen at the unexpected shock to my system. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected this.

  “We’ll see.” He slips his hand lower, until his fingertips are brushing the edge of the V between my legs. My inner muscles clench, and my breath shudders through parted lips. He keeps going, nudging my leg so I widen my stance. Cupping the inside of my thigh, he pulls me up, bringing my foot off the box to sit on the shelf under the table. “There we go, just like that.”

  My heart beats in my throat, and I have to wait to push down the knot threatening to suffocate me. What’s he doing? He’s still fully dressed and keeping his hands to himself while I’m literally half naked and flashing pink. Time is ticking into eternity. It’s killing me not to know his next move.

  Clothing finally rustles behind me. With his new angle, his body is a whisper away from me. He stretches out an arm, and metal sets on metal as he puts the gun to our right.

  I gasp, pulling away, inadvertently pressing back against his body and into the crook of his neck. My gaze is glued to the weapon. How could I have forgotten he carried that thing? He brings his hand to settle against my belly, offering a sliver of comfort. “It’s not going to hurt you, Bunny.”

  “Don’t call me that.” My voice is a harsh whisper surrounding me.

  He bows his head, his breath sending a shower of goose bumps over my shoulder and neck. “So, you’ll let me use your body but not your name?”

  It may seem strange to him, but my nickname is only used by those I love. And I can count those people on my fingers. Despite the hard cock pressing against my ass and what he’s about to do, this is strictly business. We aren’t lovers, and I have to keep distance between us.

  “That wasn’t part of the deal,” I remind him, catching my breath.

  “That’s right,” he murmurs beside my cheek. “It was just to bend you over…whenever I want.”

  Oh damn. He would remember the last part. I can complain all I want, but my body has a mind of its own right now, and it knows what it wants.

  An endless moment later, he grasps my hip.

  I focus on the frame around the window to the dining area as I strain to hear the zipper on his jeans.

  A sharp slap rings out in the kitchen as his hand comes from behind to connect with my skin. Startled, I can’t contain my yelp. The sting radiates outward, sending a tingle through my core.

  His palm remains firmly planted on the curve of my ass, his fingertips positioned over my entrance. Incredulous, I jerk my head to glare at him over my shoulder, speechless at what he’s done to me. Before I can stitch together any words, his hand pulls away and lands again. Firm, widespread fingers cover my pussy, lingering as I suck in another breath.

  “You’ll feel it…Bunny,” he assures me in a low tone. “You’re going to feel everything I do to you.” His fingers lightly stroke the pain into…something else.

  I’d like to say it’s fear running along my spine, I really would. But I’d be lying. Red-hot desire rolls through me. What I feel is the shift of his fingers against my swelling flesh. He slides back, riding the edge of my folds. They linger against my pulse points, at least where my pulse is pounding the hardest, before moving away.

  His hand lands on my shoulder, the pressure leading me forward, over the table. I should be struggling against him; instead, I brace my arms on the table, whimpering as the air gets hotter. The world around me evaporates as he strokes me. I’m slick, my body recognizing the pleasure he’s drawing from me.

  Tucking in my chin, I’m enthralled at how my chest rises erratically with every breath. The placket of my blouse is pulled tight, the white ruffles framing my cleavage as it pushes against the lace of my bra.

  It’s been so long since I’ve let a man touch me. And in all those times, it’s never been like this. Never.

  The rasp of a zipper fills the kitchen and my breath hitches. I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. He takes the condom, tearing into the foil then drops the empty packet beside me. I can’t help but stare at the little square about to take over my future.

  The initial brush of his cock against my skin sends a shudder through my body. He’s pushing in, creating the most wonderful pressure against my inner walls with every heavenly inch. I press my eyes shut, as if leaving them open would allow some of this magic to escape.

  He hits home with a sharp intake of breath at my shoulder. “You’re fucking incredible.” The words are rough, breaking into my haze to deliver the visceral message. Bunched-up denim presses against my thighs as he shifts behind me. I could easily lean against him, rocking my hips so he can get moving.

  He reaches over my thigh, dipping his fingers between my legs. Blindly, I follow his arm, pulling at his wrist until I can drag his hand above the table. Fingers entwined, I bring him to rest below my rib cage. I can’t let him cut this short. I’d be cheating myself if I did.

  He pulls out, dragging over every nerve ending in my body then sliding in again. I thought his entering me would leave me shattered. I was wrong. His initial strokes are measured, strong and steady, drawing a whimper every other time.

  “This is our handshake, Bunny,” he states, as if he isn’t burying himself inside. “The signature on the dotted line.”

  How he can be so coherent is beyond me. Right now, he’s little more than a disembodied voice behind me, outside of reality, outside the bubble of pleasure rising around me.

  “When we’re done here, after you come all over my cock, you’re going to take me upstairs and show me everything I couldn’t touch. Everything that’s mine for the next two weeks.”

  My head fills with images. His hands touching me. Clothes scattered. Bare breasts rising on heavy breaths. His mouth on me—all of me. Him taking me again. “Yes.” I’m barely able to utter the breathless word. My teeth start digging into my bottom lip again.

  It’s the acknowledgment he needs to let loose that last bit of control. In the next second, he’s pounding into me hard, determined, making me race toward an inevitable goal. Any other time I may be kicking and screaming, trying to hold back and prolong the pleasure building inside me. But this time, I’m eager to experience what it’s like to let all this bubble over.

  Seconds later, I’m there, leg muscles straining as I dive off that cliff into an ocean of ecstasy. The fall is an experience in itself, a full-body experience I can’t regret even though I know there’s a shark waiting for me under the waves.

  *****

  Tino

  So that’s what it takes to make Bunny scream.

  I’m laid out behind her, braced on my forearms to keep from crushing her. My mouth draws into a satisfied smile because my dick’s still buried inside her, enjoying her pussy’s snug grip. The weight of her tit is pressing into my palm while the firm nipple is wedged between my fingers. When I strip her down and have her panting again, I’m going to find out how this little cap feels against my tongue. It’ll be my first taste of her but certainly not my last.

  She shifts, her body dragging, creating an arch between her shoulder blades. I have the oddest urge to run my cheek along the indentation then
the crook of her shoulder to bury my nose in her hair. What the hell? Shaking my head, I blink away the image. Granted, I know my way around a woman’s body, but I go in with a purpose, not with curiosity. I slip my hand from under her chest then carefully pull from her grip, leaving her to put her shorts on while I get rid of the condom.

  The first thing I should have done was grab the gun. I was thoughtless to leave it sitting on the table. Odd, but this isn’t a trust issue. My concern isn’t because I could have the weapon turned against me but because Bunny’s uncomfortable.

  Clothes in order, I return to the table, reaching past her for my weapon and tucking it into my belt. She’s fumbling with her zipper, and I refuse to wait any longer to see her face. Pulling her around, I’m careful to keep from knocking her off the pedestal of carrots. She gasps, clutching my arms so she can gain her footing. Her eyes are open wide, pupils dilated and the green a deeper shade than earlier. Damn, I wish I could have seen her come. If I’d been thinking straight, I would have turned her around to face me while I fucked her.

  We’re going upstairs—now. I catch sight of her bare feet. One of the foam sandals gave way at some point. I’m not waiting to find her regular sandals since she’ll take them off in a few minutes. It’s much easier to take her with me. Disregarding her yelp of protest, I curl my arms under her and hoist her up. Heading outside, I lean in, managing to turn the knob and push open the door. Ignoring the drizzle, I take the steps with care, conscious of my prize. Hitching a shoulder, I elbow the door closed as I head outside.

  I follow the same path she’s taken the last couple of nights to go to her apartment. Head down, I cover the six feet to the next doorway and head upstairs. As I hit the first few steps, I check on her, making sure she’s okay. She’s worrying that full, bottom lip again. I want to tell her to stop, but I know my voice will come from some deep dark chasm inside me. So I wait because in the next few moments I won’t need any words to make her understand.