Chapter 10
ten
Matias
California, Four Years Ago
“How mad do you think Ramona will be if I set off firecrackers in the kitchen again?” Natalia asks, turning in the passenger seat to watch my reaction.
I’m careful not to laugh. It had been funny, but the old woman almost brought down the whole house with her screaming. I ran in with a gun in my hand, only to find Natalia standing by the sink, laughing so hard she cried.
The memory brings a smile to my face against my better judgment.
“It’s her dying you need to worry about.”
Natalia huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess she was pretty scared.”
“Pretty scared? She peed herself.” She barks out a laugh.
“Oh, I totally forgot about that. She put habaneros in my food for a week. Joke’s on her though, I like spicy food.” She taps her chin and sighs. “Maybe I can set them off in Papa’s office next.”
“Set them off outside before you set the house on fire.”
She makes a noncommittal sound that has me thinking my guesthouse might be next.
“Where the hell are you getting them, anyway?”
“This kid at church. His dad gets them really cheap from Mexico.”
“Great. So you’ll set the house on fire and blast your hand off.” She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You sound just like Sylvia.”
“Imagine, the problem child sounding like the responsible one for once.”
“My big sister isn’t a problem child.” Natalia squawks indignantly, crossing her arms and glaring at me.
“She started a shootout in Van Nuys last week.”
“Maybe she had a good reason.” She defends quietly, sinking lower into her seat.
“She almost got arrested buying coke from a DEA agent this week.”
Natalia sinks lower into her seat. “She’s…finding herself.”
“Your father is a drug trafficker–there’s drugs in the house.” She whips around to look at me.
“Where?”
“Like I’m telling you.” I glance at the big glossy screen on the console between us and sigh.
“Why are we driving all the way to Anaheim for a–what did you call it?”
“A study group?”
“Yeah.” School was never my strong suit.
Natalia gives me a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know. This is my last semester. I want to do things real college students do.”
When we finally pull up to the destination, I put the car in park and give the building a disbelieving look. I’m not sure what I expected. A library, maybe a bookstore or a quiet coffee shop where learning could actually take place.
I’m not expecting the industrial dive bar across the street. The lot attached to the building is overflowing with old cars and bikes. People mill in and out of the door, each one more seedy looking than the last.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and give Natalia a serious look. She takes a sudden interest in the contents of the car’s glove box, staring at the car registration like it’s an artifact she’s never seen before.
“Do we have the wrong address?”
“No, it’s right.” She mutters quietly.
“You had me bring you to a bar for a ‘study group’? Did you change your major to White Girl Wasted, Florecita?”
She sinks into her seat. “It’s not a study group.” Then she mumbles something under her breath I can’t make out.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not a study group.” She breathes. “It’s a date.”
“We’re going home.” I answer immediately, turning the car on with a push of a button and putting it into drive.
“No, wait!”
“You lied to me so I could drive you an hour away so you could go on a date?”
“It was the only way it would work! Please!” She defends, stilling my hand on the steering wheel.
There isn’t a world where someone like her belongs to someone like me.
Even in a world where she wasn’t her father’s daughter and I wasn’t a no-good son-of-a-bitch trafficker, she’d still be too good for me.
Too sweet, too loving. But I’m not going to let her sit around and go on a fucking date. I’ll kill the fucker first.
Hm. That’s not a half bad idea.
“Papa would never say yes if he knew it was a date. I had to lie!”
I lean forward and peer out of the windshield.
“What are you doing?” She cries.
“Looking for flying pigs–because the world must be ending if your father and sister are the voice of reason.”
She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “You are so dramatic. I liked it better when you didn’t talk to me.”
I laugh darkly. “No, you didn’t. But then again you always get your way, don’t you? Spoiled brat.”
“I’m not spoiled.”
I give her a look.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little spoiled.” She hedges. “But it’s just a date. It’s not like I’m going to go home with him or anything. And I brought a designated driver.” She pats me on the shoulder, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, I’m not driving. If you made me come all the way here to watch you bat your eyes at some stupid gringo, you’re buying me a drink. And driving home. So no drinking for you, Florecita.”
“You have a lot of demands for someone on payroll.” She says under her breath.
“Oh, I’m not done.” Her jaw sags as I continue.
“There will be no kissing, no groping, not even a game of footsies under the table.” Even with all of those rules, the thought of her giving her attention to some other dumb fuck pisses me off.
It’s not enough. I don’t want her to even look at anyone else.
“Matias, it’s a date. Some touching is involved.”
“I’ll shoot him.”
“Great.” She mutters sarcastically, crossing her arms. “I think Papa would’ve been a better chaperone than you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have invited the man that wants you in his bed.” Her face whips around to look at me, and I can’t help but give her an arrogant look. “Just because I can’t have you doesn’t mean I’m okay with someone else putting their hands on you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Really? Maybe it’ll make sense if I pick up a chick at the bar.” She almost breaks her neck to stare at me, a look so dark in her eyes she looks like her dad when he’s having a bad day. Like she’s ready to cut me.
The little kitten has some claws, after all.
“You’re cheating!” Natalia accuses from across the pool table, clutching the stick so hard I suspect she’s about to hit me with it.
“Maybe I’m just better than you.” I tease, laughing at the outraged look on her face. She lets go of the cue stick and reaches for her beer, swiping the condensation across the neck of the glass bottle before taking a little sip.
“This is kind of nasty.”
“You should have told Dick to pick a nicer bar.” I tell her, shrugging.
“His name is Deck. Deckard.”
“I know what his name is.” I knew that fucker was trouble from the moment she sat down that first day in class. Each time she showed, he sat a little closer, smiled a little wider. Like she’s an easy target he’s just waiting to get his hands on. I don’t like it.
“Where is he, anyway?”
Natalia checks her phone, a little crease forming between her brows. “He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. Do you think something happened to him?”
“Only if God is hearing my prayers.”
She gives me an admonishing look. “Matias.” I smile, but something twists in my stomach at the thought of her getting stood up.
I mean, I never wanted that fucker to show up, but I don’t like the way her eyes keep searching the room.
I don’t want her to think that this asshole not showing up is a reflection on her. Because it isn’t.
“Let’s play another round.” I announce, taking a twenty-dollar bill from my back pocket and placing it on the table. She looks at the bet, then roots through her tiny little purse.
“I don’t know, I’m getting hustled over here…” She says before placing another twenty on the table and reaching for her cue stick with a grin on her face.
“What? I’m not a cheap date, Natalia.”
“Like this is a date.” She snorts.
We cue up the balls and I let her take the first shot, hanging my head at her form.
“What?” She says innocently.
“Have you learned nothing from watching me play? Use your other hand to line up the cue stick. Like this.” I demonstrate across the table with my own stick, propping one hand on the table to guide the movement of my stick.
She tries to mimic the movement, but the grip is all tight and bunched up. I give up with a sigh and walk around the table, ignoring the buzz in the back of my head when I stand above her.
Natalia is short and round, with wide hips and gentle curves in all directions.
She only comes up to my chest, her long sleek hair brushing the small of her back, highlighting the soft nip of her waist. I can’t help but swipe a hand along the inky strands, visions of it sliding across my naked skin flashing before I can stop them.
Something twists in my chest when she looks up at me through her lashes with nervous eyes.
“Just relax.” I say quietly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “Turn around.” She does so silently, the soft globes of her ass pressing against my hips ever so slightly. It’s a whisper-light graze, but maybe that’s why all my blood seems to suddenly rush to my dick.
Fuck.
She’s soft and supple in my arms, her soft shirt smelling of vanilla and soap.
Her body relaxes into mine the moment I wrap my arms around her, the gentle curve of her shoulder tucking into my chest. I breathe her in, moving her curtain of hair to the side and relishing in the shiver that runs up her back.
Whatever this thing is between us, she can feel it too.
I’m craving to hold on to her mouthwateringly round hips and press her right where I’m aching, but she reaches for the pool cue and gives me that unsure look again that has me groaning under my breath.
There’s something about her ingénue looks that go straight to my dick.
All I can picture when she makes those eyes at me is teaching her how to suck my cock.
“Like this?” She’s leaning over, looking at me over her shoulder with the cue stick in her hands. Jesus Christ.
I follow her, my arms wrapping around hers, biting back a groan when her ass fully presses against my growing erection.
“You’re gripping the pool stick too tight.” I loosen her grip, pausing when an impish smile takes over her face.
“I thought men liked that.” She lets out a little self-satisfied chuckle, completely unaware of the fact I’m two seconds away from pressing her face against the pool table and playing with her pussy through her jeans.
“Focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” She loosens her grip and practices the motion, using her free hand to guide the shot. Natalia is whip-smart and a quick learner, so it doesn’t surprise me when she picks the motion almost immediately.
I still don’t let go.
I hover, arms on either side of her, whispering quiet encouragements in her ear as she lines up her shot.
“Just like that. Don’t lock your elbow…good. Good girl.”
“That’s kind of distracting, you know.” She says breathlessly, pink slowly creeping up her cheeks. I grin and move closer, watching her face with an evil grin.
“I know.”
I’ll be damned if I’m the only one here left high and dry.
If that fucker shows up, I want him to see. My little Florecita may be entertaining him to pass the time, but I’m the only one who’ll ever get her looking like this, all flushed and needy and horny.
I think the expression must be written all over my face, because Natalia cocks her head before asking:
“I thought you’d be okay with me seeing other people.
I just want to...try new things.” She says, winding the cue stick and finally taking the shot.
The balls scatter with a loud clack, flying all over the velvet green table.
The cue ball is still in front of us, so I tell her to take another turn, enjoying the feeling of her in my arms too much to let go.
“You should be able to try new things. I’m just being a caveman, baby.”
“What if…I don’t want to try new things with someone else?” She gives me that look over her shoulder. “What if I want to do it with you?”
I give her a soft smile I didn’t even know I was capable of.
“You’re too good for me, Natalia. I’m…a drug smuggler at best. There’s nothing I can offer you that would make you happy. Not in the long run, anyway. We would be really bad for each other.”
“You have money.”
“I have dirty blood money. The same kind your father has. The same kind you’re dying to get away from. I listen to everything you say.” I murmur softly. “You hate this life. A life with me won’t be much different.”
“But…things can change.” There’s that ever-lasting hopeful soul that draws me in. Natalia never gives up. The world is so simple in her eyes, I genuinely wish it were like that. Don’t like your job? Just change it! I wish it were that easy.
“Not for me.” Years ago, I made a choice. I don’t regret it, but it’s led me to this life. And the only way out of here is through death. I’ve done too much, seen even more. There’s no way they let me out of this one alive.
“Hm. Guess I’ll have to see the date through, then.” She says quietly, lining up the next shot and sinking the next ball neatly in a side pocket. “I don’t think he’s coming, though.”
“He’s an idiot. You’re too good for him, too.” That’s the god-honest truth. That fuckface doesn’t know the first thing about Natalia. He just wants to touch her. Use her.
She thinks about my words for a moment, putting down the cue stick and relaxing into my chest. Her voice is small when she asks:
“Do you think he decided not to come because…because I’m too big?”
“What?” I sound pissed off to my own ears. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I don’t know…I just think I’m not Deckard’s type. I’m too big, Matias.” She places her hands over the soft slope of her abdomen, hiding the softness of her belly.
“Did he tell you that?” I’ll kill him.
“What–no! No, he didn’t say that.”
“Natalia, you are not ‘too big’. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of bullshit. You’re perfect.” I skim a hand over the softness of her arms, her shoulder, the round, heavy weight of her tits in her pretty little blouse.
“Absolutely perfect.”
She looks up at me, her round eyes fixed on my mouth, her tongue darting out on her lower lip. I know that look. It’s different from her, though. Hungry with a tinge of cluelessness, like she doesn’t quite know what she’s asking for.
“Don’t look at me like that.” I murmur, meaning to put some distance between us but somehow getting closer.
She turns in the cage of my arms. I bite back a soft groan as her full cleavage nearly presses up under my nose, my cock coming up to the softness of her belly.
“Why not?” Natalia asks, although we both know the answer. She’s the sun, and I’m the moon, and we’re straight on an unavoidable collision course.