Chapter 4 #2
I’m completely consumed by the kiss as his tongue slides into my mouth.
I open wider to him, and his hand glides down to my ass.
He squeezes hard enough to bring me onto my toes.
I press my pussy against his dick, and I want to rub when I feel how hard and long he is.
His other hand continues to hold my head in place, but rather than fist my hair, he cradles my skull.
As the kiss draws on, that hand eases down my neck to my breast. He cups it, and I arch my back with a moan. His lips follow the same path his hand took as he kisses behind my ear and down my neck before traveling back to where he started.
“Now I’m definitely not letting you decide.”
Before I know what he’s doing, he hoists me over his shoulder.
“Pablo!”
I try to kick my legs, but he wraps his arm around the back of my thighs.
I liked it far more when it was around my waist. I slap his back before pushing up to grab a handful of his hair.
I don’t mean it to be erotic as fuck like it was when he had his hand in my hair.
I pull hard, and all I get is another three spanks across my ass.
He carries me into my bedroom and dumps me on my bed.
“Unless you want me to pack for you, pick what you need for the next week.”
“You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I don’t know you, but I know your reputation.”
“The one I’ve justly earned. I warned you, chiquita.
I will kill my tío abuelo if he hurts you.
Do you want his death on your conscience?
You want the death of any more mercenaries on your shoulders?
I’ve killed for you already, and I’ll keep doing it.
If you want me to stop, then you come with me to a safe house where no one can find you. ”
“I didn’t ask you to kill anyone!”
“You don’t strike me as being ready to die, so stop refusing help when it’s offered.”
“I don’t trust you. How do I know you won’t do worse to me than Humberto?”
“Because I don’t rape women or allow my men to. Because I don’t torture or kill women. Because I’m not my fucking tío abuelo.”
He’s pissed I compared him to Humberto again.
He takes it as a slight against his honor.
It’s not just anger; it’s hurt I see. I get that now.
He may bully me, but he doesn’t want me to see him the same way I do Humberto.
He’s doing it because he wants to protect me and because I am being stubborn.
Humberto does it to silence me and demean me.
“Pablo, breaking into my apartment and barking orders doesn’t make me trust you, even if you aren’t like him.
Where will you send me? How long do I have to be there?
Why does it matter to you? How can I be certain your offer will keep me safer than going to my family?
How do I know you won’t do something to me, even if it isn’t rape, torture, or murder?
I don’t know you. I’m not going anywhere with a stranger. ”
He leans forward, and his hands bracket my hips. I lean back, but we’re still nose to nose. I don’t stop him when his lips press to mine. This isn’t like the kiss from a couple of minutes ago. It’s gentle. I don’t resist this any more than I did the last one.
How can I trust him to touch me?
Why would I have sex with him right now if I could, yet I refuse to believe he’s here to help me? Because you don’t believe he’s above seducing you to get what he wants. You might enjoy fucking him, but you won’t give in to his demands.
You wouldn’t give in even if he said please. You’d be batshit bonkers to go anywhere with him voluntarily.
“Florencia, please. There were five men here when I arrived. I recognized all of them. They were all mercenaries. I know Humberto put the bounty out for you. There will only be more, and it may not just be men. Many women might try, assuming you’ll lower your guard around them.
That you’d be likely to trust them and be an easy mark. ”
“Your family left here because they don’t have a record for surviv—”
“Do not finish that thought.” His voice is a gravelly whisper.
He’s back to being entirely walled off. He isn’t the gentle man from a moment ago or even the passionate one. He’s the man without a soul my mother warned me about. His eyes appear devoid of any feeling. I only know how badly I overstepped from the harshness in his voice.
I know I was being a bitch, but it’s true. His grandfather and uncle died here, and the rest of his family left Colombia because it was safer in the States.
“You heard part of the story from Humberto, but you didn’t hear all of it.
Obviously, whoever’s told you about the past didn’t tell you a fraction of the truth.
My abuelo ruled Latin America for nearly twenty years before his brother had him killed.
My tío has ruled for more than thirty. He doesn’t live in the U.S.
because he’s afraid to live here. He lives there because he has more power and influence in this hemisphere than any other man alive.
He controls more from there than he could here.
When Humberto’s hired gun killed my abuelo, my father and tío came down here.
I’ve seen the photos of the destruction they left behind.
The Mexican cartels didn’t come up with the idea of leaving bodies to litter the streets to remind their neighbors who runs their country.
Thirty-six years later, buildings remain rubble and ash.
My uncle won’t let anyone—not private citizens nor the government—rebuild them.
That’s the control he has here. If you’ve known Humberto for more than a month, then you know he’s had different bones broken every few weeks.
Tío Enrique makes sure that pedazo de mierda can never forget he breathes because my tío allows it.
If he hurts you, I will make sure he knows how badly he fucked up right before I kill him. ”
When I met Humberto, he had bandages wrapped around his right hand.
I discovered he had broken bones in the center of his hand.
I didn’t know why and couldn’t figure it out.
Right now, he’s limping. He has to wear sandals because three of his toes are swollen and taped together.
I can tell they’re broken. I didn’t know what happened to them either.
I can guess it was Enrique who did it, or someone he sent. Maybe one of his other nephews.
“While that’s chivalrous, your uncle killed my father.”
How I let that slip my mind until now is beyond me.
“You should count yourself lucky I don’t hold your family or your name against you.
Your father tried to kill Tío Enrique and my father.
When he failed at that, he tried to kidnap Tía Luciana.
She won’t repeat the vile threats he made to her, but I’m certain he planned to rape her then kill her.
He cornered her outside the grocery store and wrapped his hand around her throat.
He punched her in the face. When he tried to grope her, she stabbed him in the thigh.
He didn’t think she was strong enough to fight back because she’d backed down when they were engaged to avoid arguments like that.
He underestimated my tía’s ability to defend herself, and he sorely underestimated my tío’s retribution for touching his wife.
My tía came home scared and with bruises on her face and throat.
Your father deserved everything that happened to him.
He was a fool to hurt a woman and think my family wouldn’t respond.
He was out of his fucking mind to think he could touch a Diaz woman and survive.
Humberto forced Domingo to work for him and believed your father could infiltrate our family because they’re cut from the same cloth.
Your father was untrustworthy, and so is Humberto.
He took my abuelo and my tío from my family.
He sure as fuck isn’t taking you from me. ”