Over the years I grew deeper and deeper into the circuit of cartels. I was loyal to no one except those that paid me the most. I became quick and efficient. There were better sicarios out there – there still are – but the cartels seemed to love the fact that I was white. They called me their G.I Joe. They liked that no one paid much attention to me, that no one ever looked for me. They liked that I didn’t care for politics or drama or fame. I did the job I was paid to do.
Well, except for that last one.
I was a lone wolf. I operated alone and I usually went to bed alone. If I was horny, finding a chick to fuck wasn’t hard. I always treated them nice enough but they never got anything from me other than a handful of orgasms.
I certainly never took them out on dates, or ordered room service in the afternoon with them or invited them to stay in my hotel room for an indefinite amount of time.
I never cared about them, not even a little bit. But I cared about Alana.
She was getting under my skin. She was awakening that dead husk inside of me.
She was becoming my second chance.
I couldn’t protect Carmen.
But maybe, somehow I could protect her.
I started by getting to know her body thoroughly.
While she sat there, cross-legged on the messy, sipping on a black coffee, I leaned forward and with one swift move, I undid the sash around her robe so a bronze line of skin from her chest to her pussy was exposed.
“Smooth move,” she commented, putting the coffee down.
I lifted the plate of food to the side. “Lie down,” I told her.
She raised her brow, inquisitive, but lay back on the duvet. I reached over and pulled her robe to the sides, exposing her more. She was so fucking amazing, a body built from the heavens.
I reached for the small metal pitcher of cream that came with the coffee and held it above her breasts.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m going to enjoy you and my breakfast at the same time,” I told her.
“That sounds a bit greedy.”
“That I can be.”
I grinned at her and then tipped just a bit of the cream until it poured out in a single stream, splashing between her breasts. She let out a gasp and a giggle and my dick twitched hungrily. The sight of the white creamy liquid spilled against her dark skin was hot as fucking hell. I wanted to come right on top of her to add to it but I ignored my urges for now.
I ran my finger between her breasts and licked it. Then I massaged it over her breasts and nipples before lapping the cream away like a cat.
“That was the appetizer,” I told her as I pulled away, my fingers still rubbing the rest of it into her skin. “Now for the main course.”
“Are you like this with every woman?” she asked me and though I could see in her bright eyes that it was a joke, it kind of dug deep.
“No,” I said quietly. “Not every woman. Only you. You’ve been the only one who has mattered in a very long time.”
She blinked, perhaps taken back by my honesty. I certainly was. I flashed her a smile and picked up a jar of honey. “Now, I can stop if you want me to,” I said, waving the jar at her.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
So I didn’t. I dipped my finger in the honey and began painting suns all over her skin. That’s what she reminded me of, the sun, shining always so big and bold. The darkness was always behind her, waiting to take her out, but most of the time she was this ball of warmth that seemed to melt everything bad away.
“You better get it all,” she said, closing her eyes and moaning as I stroked the honey between her legs. “Or else I’ll be left sticky.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m going to lick you clean then fuck you hard.”
Her eyes flew open, even more aroused now.
I ran my tongue all over the honey art on her body, making sure there was nothing sticky left, just enjoying the sweet taste of her and the nectar in my mouth. Then I put my head between her legs and lapped up the rest of it, sucking on her sweet folds and teasing the swell of her clit until her moans were so loud and I was drowning in salty sweet flavor.
She came quick and hard, her legs gripping around my head and holding on tight while she pulsed beneath my lips and tongue.
“Dios mio,” she swore as she continued to writhe, breathless and panting. Eventually her legs loosened and I pulled away. She lifted her head up, her eyes dazed, and looked at me. “Wow. Just wow. If that was the main course, what’s for desert?”
I grinned at her and opened my robe, my dick like a thick piece of steel. I stroked it once. “This. Served any way you want.”
She bit her lip and leaned forward to grab my robe, pulling me down on top of her.
It was a long time before room service could take the tray away.
***
Finally we decided to get a move on things. I got her in a cab and she was off to her apartment to pack up some of her stuff. I would have gone with her to watch over her but while she was gone I wanted to go get a new rental car.
I dropped off the old one and picked up a black mustang convertible at a new rental agency. It was the sexiest thing they had and I knew how to drive them well, even if they weren’t all that practical for the area. But in terms of a getaway car, it worked. After she had told me everything about her family, I had a clearer picture of what I was up against.
While I drove the mustang back to the hotel, I had time to think. Her father had been involved in one of the cartels long ago. He was killed. Her mother was after. Then her sisters. Her, her twin and her brother were all that remained. I needed to find out more about her sisters, when they had died and how. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it but it was crucial to understanding this. They ways they died could tell you a lot about who was doing the killing. From what it sounded like, the deaths of her parents were a pretty rushed, amateur job. Anyone can storm a house in the night and shoot a woman in bed. That doesn’t take any skill at all.
It just didn’t make any sense to keep going at someone’s family. Unless, of course, there was more to it. I was sure there was. Either Alana or one of her siblings was still involved in something and hanging with the wrong crowd.
Her brother was the obvious choice, being he was involved with drugs in some way. But so was everyone. Was her brother part of the same network that her father had been? If so, why would they still bother going after the children?