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I poured myself a whiskey and downed it in two gulps, agitated by my inability to focus. I despised all this bullshit—negotiating and threats and impending turf wars. Watching your back all the time and having to put extra eyes and ears on the streets was a damn nightmare. Men were sure to die if I couldn’t work something out with El Cuchillo.
Goddamn, at twenty-eight I was already too old for this shit, or too jaded, or maybe just tired of the entire illegal drug business. But none of that shit mattered. Right now, I had to be at the top of my game. Any weakness or hesitation was sure to be exploited by my enemy and used to take me down. I couldn’t afford to pussy out just because I didn’t want to go to war or would rather get laid. No, tonight I needed to remind El Cuchillo he should be grateful I didn’t wipe out his little operation years ago, not fucking starting shit with me.
Familiar anger simmered in my gut. No one told me what to do. I fucking owned this city. I slammed down the empty glass and stomped upstairs to get ready. Apparently I was going clubbing tonight.
10
Boss
In the shower, my mind drifted back to Miri. If I could wrap this meeting up early enough, maybe I could slip into Miri’s room, climb under the sheets and wake her by licking that sweet pussy. Unlike in the garage, this time we would have a bed and I would be able to take my time, explore every luscious curve, taste every inch of soft, freckled skin with my tongue. My cock began to perk up but there wasn’t enough time to indulge in jerking off. With a sigh, I cranked the water to cold and shivered until my hard-on wilted.
Dressed in my club clothes—tight black pants and a fitted, designer, charcoal cashmere sweater over a thin tee—I checked my reflection. The sweater wasn’t so tight as to show the outline of my sheaths, but the cuffs were loose enough to get the blades out if needed. With my hair swept back off my face and the beard gone, I looked wrong—too young, too friendly, not… scary enough. Hopefully, El Cuchillo didn’t forget my reputation based on my youthful appearance. Crossing me would be a mistake he wouldn’t live long enough to repeat. I took this city at twenty-three years old. Age meant nothing as long as you had the balls to do what needed to be done.
By the time I stepped outside, Milo was waiting on the driveway. Frank had the car ready, door open. I tipped my chin to greet them both and climbed inside. Milo followed, his bulk combined with mine to take up the entire backseat. The ride was silent as I contemplated the meeting. Milo gave me the time I needed to organize my thoughts. Right before we reached the club, I finally spoke.
“Cuchillo is not getting the best of us tonight. I refuse to look weak or allow him to think he can intimidate us.” Milo nodded, his massive, scarred hands folded between his legs. “Do not speak unless I ask you to. Your job is to look like the scary motherfucker you are, mine is to negotiate.”
“Got it, Boss.” Milo’s mouth pulled into a sadistic grin, pleased by the return of Boss, the merciless, unforgiving drug lord.
“Good.” The car pulled in front of the club and we both climbed out when the valet opened our door. I stood up straight, and projected an air of confidence and intimidation. Jag was gone. Boss was pissed and ready for a fight. “Let’s go remind this asshole why we own this city.”
Milo let out a low chuckle and walked by my side as we entered the club.
Motherfucking showtime.
Miri
Heat unfurled between my th
ighs, beginning as a low simmer that quickly ignited into an intense, full-body blaze. I squirmed on the mattress and tried to pull myself from the vivid dream. When I blinked my eyes open, the room was shadowed in darkness yet the amazing pleasure continued even though I knew I was awake. My back arched off the bed and a loud cry tore from my throat. A low groan vibrated against my pussy and I knew this was no dream. I yanked back the sheet to find Jag, naked and lying on his stomach between my legs, his mouth latched on to my clit. His eyes shone in the dark and met mine the exact second he thrust two fingers deep inside me. Tremors shot up and down my spine and my hips bucked off the bed.
“Oh my god. Jag. W-what…”
I was pretty sure I should be mad at Jag for coming into my room uninvited and touching me while I slept, but his mouth felt so incredible I didn’t care. All I wanted was more. My hands found their way into his thick, dark hair. He groaned again as I dug my fingers into his scalp and lightly tugged on the strands. Jag drove a third finger into me and curled them forward, rubbing against the sensitive front wall of my core. Unable to control my body, I tightened my fists in his hair and dug my heels into the mattress so I could grind my pelvis up into his face. A bolt of electricity exploded and brilliant lights burst behind my eyes as I came, screaming. Jag continued finger-fucking me through the ecstasy until I came down from the most intense orgasm of my life.
Jag licked and nibbled on my clit, working his fingers until I was so oversensitive I thought I’d pass out.
“Stop, please.” I weakly batted at his hand. Jag chuckled, swiping his tongue across the swollen flesh one last time. My hips jerked on their own. “Jag!”
I unwound my fingers from his hair and my arms fell limp at my sides. Melting into the bed, my skin slick with sweat, I took a minute to catch my breath. While I gasped and panted, Jag crawled up my body and braced his elbows on either side of my head. He lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a deep, passionate kiss. The taste of my arousal on his lips was so sexy my body arced off the bed, seeking more contact with his. Jag stayed hovering above me, just out of reach while continuing to tease with light kisses and tiny nips to my mouth. Frustrated and aching to be filled, I wrapped my legs around his waist and yanked him down, our bodies touching chest to groin. Jag growled into my mouth when his thick cock rubbed against my slick and sensitive cleft.
“More, Jag. I need you inside me,” I whispered against his lips, feeling empty and desperate to be fucked.
Jag rocked his hips, his hard length sliding back and forth through the wet heat. I tried to angle my pelvis so his cock would slip inside, but the bastard knew what I was trying to do and continued to tease me, pulling back whenever I got him where I wanted him. Jag used just enough friction to keep me on the edge, while leaving me unfilled and wanting. Jag dropped his head and licked and sucked his way down my neck, stopping to lave his tongue over the angry red bite mark he made when he fucked me in the garage today. Or was it yesterday?
“It’s so fucking hot to see my mark on you.” Jag’s voice was low and husky and the sound of it sent tremors directly to my aching core.
“Jag…” I was writhing on the bed in desperation. “I need you inside me. I need—”
He sucked a peaked nipple into his mouth and my eyes rolled back in my head. “I want to taste all of you, doll.” Jag brushed his nose over the sensitive nub before biting down.
“Fuck!” My hips attempted to shoot off the bed again, but Jag’s lower body pinned me down. I wailed in frustration, unable to move enough to rub against him where I needed it most. “God, Jag… just…oh!” He switched to the other breast and sucked that bud into his hot mouth, licking and biting until I couldn’t say anything more than a string of garbled nonsense. After an eternity of torturous pleasure, Jag released the swollen flesh and returned to hover over me, face-to-face, eye-to-eye.
“You’re so goddamn sexy, Miri. I want to suck and lick every inch of you. Rub my body all over yours until you’re covered in my scent. Mark your skin so every other man knows you belong to me. Fuck you so hard, you feel my cock for days and never forget that you’re mine.”
I stared up at this beautiful man, speechless. His? Was I his? One fuck in a garage didn’t make me his anything. But the care he’d freely given—a home, a bed, clothes, drugs, food, protection… Those made my response easy.
“I want that. To be yours.”
