Chapter 8 #4
When he could breathe again, he felt rung out. Staggering, he aimed for the bed, dropping Bree onto her back as soon as he reached it.
She smiled up at him lazily and lowered her legs from around his waist, stretching like a cat in a beam of sunlight. “Oh yeah, you’re hot in your uniform, Jude Stark.”
Her words sent goose bumps down both arms. “Glad you think so,” he said, before he began to take off the uniform he’d put on minutes earlier.
“A strip tease to boot? Lucky me,” Bree sassed as she came up on her elbows to watch him disrobe.
She hadn’t tugged her skirt down to cover herself, and as Smiley got undressed as fast as humanly possible, he saw her pussy glistening in the overhead light from his come and her own juices.
“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling his cock twitch.
“Goody,” she said, as she saw him thicken, licking her lips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he mock-complained as he leaned over her.
“But what a way to go,” she countered, lifting her arms to wrap them around his neck.
In less than a minute, Smiley had removed Bree’s dress and they were both naked in his bed and ready for another round.
Later, much later, when they were both exhausted, the covers were totally askew, and he felt as if he were eighty rather than the thirty he actually was, Smiley found himself grinning up at the ceiling.
That wasn’t him. He never randomly lay in bed and smiled as he stared at the light above his head.
But with Bree snoring lightly in his ear as she lay bonelessly on top of him, sweaty and smelling like sex, he couldn’t do anything but smile. For now, he was as content as he’d ever been in his life.
He’d die for this woman. For the right to experience this moment over and over again. Not the sex exactly—though that was great—but lying with Bree in his arms, hearing her snore, which meant she was completely relaxed. That she trusted him with her life.
He’d kill to have this for the rest of his life.
The tension of knowing someone was hunting her had obviously gotten to Bree. She’d let down her guard tonight. And Smiley realized how much of herself she’d been hiding from him. He wanted tonight’s Bree to be the woman he had every day. And he’d do whatever it took to make that happen.
Mateo Castillo glared at the apartment complex his property had entered.
This had to end. He knew where she was, and he was tired of this country.
He needed to get back to his compound. Word was, things were falling apart without him.
Four days ago, one of his girls had escaped—which was inexcusable.
Those responsible would die for allowing it to happen. He had to set an example.
He’d wanted to take Bree Haynes along with the other two bitches, the ones who’d escaped all those years ago, but he’d yet to find an opportunity to make that happen.
He’d thought that moment was tonight. The women were all together.
And he’d tried to get into the piece-of-shit bar, thinking while everyone was drunk and paying little attention, he could steal one, even all three of them out the back.
But it turned out to be some private party.
He couldn’t get past the asshole at the door.
He’d pretended to be a tourist just passing by, hoping for a drink, but no matter what he said, he wasn’t allowed inside. And when he’d seen all three of his targets dancing, drinks in hand, out on the dance floor, it had taken all his control to turn around and leave.
He’d been so close—and yet denied his prize.
Fuck that.
It was time to act. Time to get back to Ecuador. He had transport all arranged. For three, but he’d take one if he had to. The youngest. The one he’d paid for, who could earn him the most money in return. His buyers in Russia and North Korea might have to wait for another shipment.
Looking at his watch and seeing it was three in the morning, Mateo reached forward and started the engine. Within a week, he’d be home. Counting his money and making sure no other bitch thought it was a good idea to escape. He was their master, and they did what he demanded. Period.
Bree Haynes would learn that the hard way.
Learn that running only delayed the inevitable.
After she was trained, she’d spend the rest of her days locked in the very special box he was having built just for her.
One she’d only be allowed out of twice a day to use the bathroom…
or when it was time for her to take whatever a man wanted to give her.
Mateo smirked. Women were good for one thing only.
Spreading their legs and letting men take what they wanted.
She’d learn that or die. It was that simple.
He’d spent good money on the bitch, and he’d get that money out of her one way or another.
That’s how his operation worked. Training the bitches was the fun part.
Breaking them. He loved to see the life drain out of their eyes as they accepted their new reality.
Bree Haynes would be no different. She was his—and he always got what he paid for.