Chapter 32 Thalia
Silas didn’t take off first thing in the morning like he had been doing the last few days. It is that awkward week between Christmas and New Years, and while I had kept myself entertained with Ale and the horses, Silas woke up and decided today will be the day he teaches me to drive. I stand by the old Chevy truck and stare at it. The green paint is chipping, and the tires are covered in mud. I look down at my new Louboutin boots and sigh.
“I like the boots,” Silas says from behind me.
He’s wearing a black shirt and another pair of 501s that sit tight on his ass. The man looks sexy in anything he puts on. He could wear anything and pull it off—cowboy hats, business suits, and especially a leather vest with a clown mask.
Like me, Silas has a range of looks. I like to think we are both fashionable people, but I’m starting to think we just share the same mental illness.
“It’s a new look I’m trying,” I say. I had ditched the chic dresses and opted for shorts, a crop top, and the boots Ale got me for Christmas.
“Paisa Goth… I like it.” His smile is flirtatious, and a few butterflies escape from the pits of hell in my stomach. Damn them.
He opens the passenger door for me and I slide into the bench seat. I stay close to the door, keeping my distance from Silas. We don’t drive far from the ranch when we stop on an abandoned dirt road. If Silas wanted to hide my body, I am sure this is the place he’d bring me. It is nothing but bare land for miles. Silas stops the engine and hops out. He motions for me to take my place behind the wheel.
Trying to pay attention to his brief driving lecture is hard when his entire presence is a distraction. I can’t hear the words when I keep staring at his mouth. His full lips. Get it together, Thalia. I continue to nod my head like I understand him. I’m lost in the way his hand hovers over mine. Something about the clutch, first gear, and the break. He might as well be speaking a foreign language. Jesus Christ, why does he smell so good? Somehow, I manage to start the damn truck, but don’t ask me how.
“Thalia! Push down on the brake,” he shouts, and I push down, trying to remember what he told me. It takes me an hour to focus on what I’m doing. A few times, after stopping, I forgot to set the brake, and the truck started rolling backward. But I finally figured out the gears.
“I did it!” I scream in excitement.
“You did it,” he says, with an ear to ear smile plastered to his face. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile that wide. It’s a domino effect, and we both stand there, smiling at each other.
Silas is convinced I am ready to drive into the closest city, Tampico. Since I’ve spent most of my time on the ranch, Silas has to give me directions. That’s when our wide smiles turn into a swirl of profanities, considering Silas uses dumb ass words, like south and west, to navigate. When we finally make it to Tampico, Silas takes me to La Plaza de Armas. There are a ton of vendors spread out, and it’s packed with people.
Silas makes a few calls, and it’s not long before men in armed attire surround us. His bodyguards stay distanced, but are spread throughout the plaza. People stare, but they don’t say anything. I forget that, while I am a part of the cartel, it’s much different from being the leader of a cartel. Silas holds my hand as he orders food and finds a table for us by the live music.
“What is this?” I ask, looking down at the sandwich he ordered for me.
It looks like the tortas I would order when my uncle took me to Mexico. Where my family is from, in Jalisco, tortas ahogadas are the staple, but this is no torta ahogada. It is not drowning in salsa or stuffed with my favorite pickled red onions.
“They’re tortas de la barda. Try it.” I look down at the white bread stuffed with a variation of meats and some type of green sauce. Silas laughs at my expression.
“The green sauce is pork skins in chile verde,” he says.
That sounds even less appealing. I close my eyes and take a small bite. The flavors blend together in a strange but harmonious way. I smile at him and take another bite. Silas opens a beer and sets it in front of me.
“To conquering Bertha,” he says.
“To not killing us on the way here,” I reply. We clink the bottom of the bottles together before we take a drink. He licks his lips, chasing the taste of the beer.
“I like when you smile like that,” he says.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like you’re happy.”
I swallow the knot starting to form in my throat. You can do this, Thalia. You can be vulnerable. I can’t do another night without him touching me. So, I let the truth escape me.
“I am happy.”
He nods and takes another sip. We stay in the plaza, listening to the sounds of the city, and Silas asks me questions about what I do at the hotel. I tell him about the silly dream to open spooky-themed AirBnBs and explain how I plan to decorate them. He adds his own ideas to mine, and we continue to dream up imaginary houses. Somewhere in the distance, the banda begins to play. Silas pulls me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“Dancing with my wife.”
My heart bursts in my chest as he pulls me into him. He spins and twirls me to the vibrant beats. When he exaggerates a move, I can’t help but laugh. I don’t think I stop laughing, and it feels good. I forget for a minute that life is happening around me.
Our fun is interrupted when I see a large crowd of people rushing toward us. Women running with children in their hands. Men seeking shelter for their families. Some bodies hit the ground, and I gasp in terror. Silas pushes me to the ground. He’s already pulled his gun out and shifted his body in front of me. His bodyguards rush forward and fire toward the threats. We crouch behind a table, and Silas scans over me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod, my heart accelerating in my chest.
“When I say go, I need you to run to the truck. There’s a gun in the glove compartment. Stay there and stay down. If I’m not there in ten minutes, take off.” I stare into his eyes. I nod, despite the anxious need to stay with him. He scans our surroundings intently, then turns back to me. He presses a kiss on my forehead.
“Go.”
My feet move forward, my heart pounding with each step. I run to the truck and watch the exchange. Out of nowhere emerge men dressed in military clothes, shooting toward Silas and his guards. More men emerge from the shadows of the plaza with firearms. They aren’t shooting at Silas, though. They are protecting him.
Bodies begin to fall, but shots still ring out around me. I grab the gun from the glove compartment and feel that familiar sense of power rising in me. Just as I go to rush out toward Silas, I see him running toward me at full speed. His strong arms lift me up and throw me into the truck. He starts the truck and takes off. A Jeep full of military men trails behind us, and bullets ricochet off of the truck as the speed accelerates.
The truck jerks wildly, and I roll down the window. I grab onto the handle above the window and pull myself up, setting my ass on the window seal. The wind beats against my face as I face the Jeep behind us. I aim the gun and pull the trigger. Half my shots hit, but it’s not enough to stop them. Bullets fly past me, and Silas calls out to me.
“Switch me spots!”
I move toward him and switch him places, grabbing the wheel. Bertha is running at her max speed. Silas reaches under the seat and pulls out an AK, then opens the back window. He starts shooting as I stabilize my hands on the wheel. Shots continue to ring out behind me, and I jump every time a bullet flies close to us. The firing decreases, but bigger problems arise in the distance.
“Uh, Silas. There’s a huge truck coming toward us!” I scream.
“Step on the gas!”
He continues firing shots, and I step on the gas, heading straight for the semi. He honks, and I close my eyes before I feel Silas’s arm on mine as he turns the wheel all the way to the left. My hands shoot up to my face. The truck bounces and my body shifts with it. I push down on the brakes as hard as I can. I hear the metal of the truck scraping below us, and my stomach catches in my throat.
The front windshield shatters as the truck slams violently into a tree. Silas’s arm works like an airbag, holding me back from flying out the windshield. Pain bursts through my arm, and when I look down, I see a large piece of glass logged there. I pull out the piece of glass and gasp at the pain.
“Are they gone?” I ask. My body is overdosing on adrenaline.
“The semi hit them.” I look up at Silas, whose heart is also beating outside his chest. Our heavy breathing fills the space. I look him over, checking for a cut or bruise. The only thing I find is that dark, possessed look in his eyes. Eyes that are focused and locked in on the crimson red trickling down my arm.
Silas
I stare down at the thin red line as it slowly moves down her soft skin. I can’t move as my anticipation heightens. I grab her wrist and examine the cut. The widening of her pupils only exaggerates the desire burning in her brown eyes. I drop my lips to her arm and run a tongue over the sweet metallic taste of her. I press my lips over the small cut, sucking hard as I satisfy that unnerving need to taste everything she has to offer. She moans, and my own blood finds its way straight to my cock.
I pull her down onto the bench seat. We’re both high on the adrenaline from the chase. Drunk on the way we escaped death. I would deal with the threat later. We are safe now, and I want her. I can’t contain my animalistic response to her anymore than she can contain her own wants.
Her long nails slide under my shirt and up my stomach. She pulls the hem of my shirt up and over my head. She fumbles with my belt buckle then reaches her hand inside my waistband, grabbing my erection with a tight squeeze.
“Métemela.” Stick it in me , is her desperate command. She frees my aching cock and runs her hand over my shaft.
Her nails glide from the base to the crown. My eyelids flutter when she circles the piercing with the tip of her nail. I growl out then savagely pull at her jean shorts and pull them down her long legs. I stroke her sweet cunt, hiding behind the fabric of her thong. I circle a finger over her sticky and swollen clit. The sun has set, and her moans mix with the dead of night.
I pull up her shirt and unfasten her bra. When the cold air hits her bare breasts, her brown nipples harden. I suck one into my mouth, and she holds my head hostage as I devour it. I grind my dick into her slowly, my bare erection sliding between her legs. The enclosed space makes the position difficult with my six-foot frame. When I come up for air, my head hits the roof hard. Thalia lets out a small chuckle.
“Come here,” I say, pulling myself off her and opening the driver’s side door. I pull her with me as I step out. She crosses her arms and shakes against the breeze.
“Silas, it’s cold.”
“That’s what body heat is for.” I grin and lift her up, pressing her wet core to my stomach. Her legs wrap around me, and I open the bed of the truck. There are serape blankets I keep in the bed storage that I remove and lay down on the cold truck bed. Reaching out, I pull her down to the blankets with me and run my hand over the frame of her face, taking in the raw beauty of her. My heated palm roams over every inch of her. Consumed by the heat radiating from her, I begin to massage her ass. Slowly, I make counter clockwise circles as her hands roam through my loose strands of hair. I rip off her panties. She gasps, and I roll us over, placing her on top of me.
“Sit on my cock.” She looks out to the highway, but it’s not easily visible.
We rolled too far out, and we’re invisible to any traffic. She brings the serape blanket up and over her shoulders as she positions her knees on either side of me. I grab her hips and align her pussy with my hard dick. She cries out as I shove myself into her.
“Fuck, it hurts,” she cries when my crown pushes deep into her.
“You can take it.” I circle inside her slowly as she adjusts to the fullness. Her hardened nipples graze my chest as she leans forward. Her hands grab the storage box as she begins rolling her hips in slow motion. She moans out her filthy thoughts as she gets lost in the pleasure.
“Don’t stop.”
“Cógeme.”
“Oh, yes.”
Her words are inaudible between her breaths. I meet her movement, grinding into her from below. The blanket falls behind her, and the stars shine down on her naked body. Blood rushes to my cock. She grinds against me harder and faster, her hips pushing forward and her back bending. I meet her stroke for stroke. I reach out and pinch her hard nipple. She cries out, and her hot liquid pours over me like an exploding volcano. I push into her and slam her down on me. The orgasm hits me, and the euphoric release sounds with my deep growl. My seed coats her insides, and she collapses on to me. I pull her tight against me and wrap the blanket around us. I run my hand up her back, and she goes to break free from the embrace.
“Don’t you dare fucking move.” I am not repeating the same bullshit from Christmas. She is my wife, and she is going to cuddle with me. I don’t give a fuck about her fear of intimacy. She lets out a sigh, and I push her hair from her face.
“I won’t,” she whispers.
“Good, diablita, because we’re only on the first round tonight.” We’ll continue until we purge the adrenaline coursing through us. Until I find myself satiated enough to resist the urge to be inside her.