I suck in a ragged gasp when he drops his forehead to mine and growls. “I’m not doing anything your body doesn’t want.” He puts a sliver of distance between us and unhands my jaw. “This is your punishment for stealing my car. Keep quiet, so it’s a dirty secret between the two of us or I’ll show everyone behind me how much your darkness craves something far filthier.”
“I hate you,” I whisper as my pelvis lifts to welcome the cruel intrusion.
He chuckles, low and dirty. “But you love this, don’t you?"
Tomás sets his large hand over mine and nudges the threat away from his vital organ I know to be frozen. I keep my chin poised high in defiance, while doing my best to pretend his roaming fingers don’t feel amazing inside me.
“You don’t have to do this. Just let me go," I whisper, panting into the side of his face, hungry for his torture and ashamed of how I’d shrivel if he stopped.
“You smell like me.” He bites my earlobe. I grab his forearm to steady myself. “It’s sexy as fuck.” Coarse hairs scratch my cheek as his throaty cadence scatters shivers over my scalp. "I haven't given you permission to walk free. I have unanswered questions. Your reappearance doesn’t add up. Until I find out what’s going on, you'll voluntarily come outside with me like the good girl you say you are.” His wrist angles. “You're caught up in my world now. This is my city. My rules."
My forehead bows as my body deceives me. I’m regrettably close to a physical surrender. Right here in this cafe before all of these people who are fueling up for the morning. I can’t help my spiral, not being used to this sort of strained secrecy—this illicit behavior or level of naughtiness.
He senses how my insides contract around him. In that moment of recognition, his jaw twitches and he pulls his hand out from between my thighs. I shudder at the loss, only to have his coated finger slip into my mouth.
“Suck it.” He commands, his expression impassive.
And I do. I’d be lying if I said I don't want him. Our confused gazes fuse. That second of an unspoken bond highlights his wide pupils and grimace. While my thighs remain parted, I circle my lips and pin him with fluttery lashes.
The ball in his throat bobs and his head cocks ever so slightly. And then, as if danger is closing in, he jerks away.
From my left, the chef wanders out of the kitchen, oblivious to the henchmen with guns and my uninvited breakfast date. He’s happily muttering to himself and scrawling on a piece of paper with a stubby pencil, his gaze focused on the information he’s noting.
“Okay. I’ve spoken to my wife.” He stops beside me. “There are a few hostels in the area. Here’s the name of one she recommended.” As he looks up, he’s greeted by Tomás’ unmoving expression. His cloudy eyes immediately dart to the exit where Shane is standing.
“Hostel?” Tomás glares at me. “You’d rather stay in a flea infested, stinking bunk bed with a drunk cunt pissing in the closet because they think it’s a toilet?” The look he dishes out could be misinterpreted as hurt, but the twist to his lips tells me it's likely disgust.
“Thank you.” I take the torn page. “I really appreciate your help.”
The second I glance at the penned name, Tomás snatches it quicker than a snake bite, crumples it up, and tosses it to the floor. His muscles go rigid and he rises with the threat of a volcano spitting out liquid fire in a warning.
“Shane.” He barks over his shoulder. “Get everyone out.” My chest tightens at the sharpness of his command. “I need a few minutes alone with her.”
“Wait... it's coming up to lunch time. I…” The owner's jaw drops, his fretful eyes filled with horror as he blindly shoves the notepad into his apron pocket.
Behind him, Shane flings open the door and orders the customers to leave, waving his gun to indicate the seriousness of his instruction. My insides wither, unsure of what to expect when we’re alone.
Tomás sets his hand on the man's shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asks calmly.
A glimmer of sweat mists the man’s forehead and he rubs his palms across the grimy material covering his round belly. “Juan Pablo,” the nervous man replies, his eyes flicking from me to the infamous towering predator before him.
“Okay, Juan Pablo.” Tomás gathers his expensive jacket and pulls out a wad of notes from the silky inside pocket. “You know who I am, right?” Juan Pablo nods slowly. “So you know what Icoulddo to this place... if I wanted to?” Tomás continues in the dumbstruck silence. “This cash is a token. No strings. Think of it as compensation for giving me half an hour of undisturbed privacy with this beautiful young lady. She was in a bad state when I picked her up in an alleyway late last night. I brought her into my home, gave her a steamy, hot shower, fed her frosted flakes this morning, and let her play with my big…” he smirks. He actually fucking smirks. “Play with my big dog.”
“Your dog was certainly more welcoming than you were,” I mutter.
His mouth quirks. “I didn’t hear much of a complaint when we swam in my outdoor pool earlier. It’s a bit like that movie, Pretty Woman. Except she’s not a hooker and I’m filthy fucking rich. The only difference is I’m not a nice guy.” He almost chuckles, the tone to his voice deep and dangerous—a toe-curling turn on. “You and I know this city is unsafe unless we know the right people. And this luckysenoritabumped into me.” Tomás winks at me, the corner of his mouth dimpling his cheek. My skin flushes from my clit to my face. If eyeballs could blush, mine would be on fire. “I’m offering you more money than this cafe earns in a whole year. My advice would be to take the money and finish up early for once.” Tomás’ voice is commanding, as always.
But when I shift in my seat and unintentionally brush my hand over his, I notice a sudden urgency in his breath. No one else in here would detect it and had I not witnessed him unravel, I wouldn’t recognize his mood falter, either.
“Go home and show your old lady the time of her life. Buy her a bottle of Dom and a new dress. And... Juan Pablo…” His lips curl into a cruel smirk. Devilish ebony lashes dagger the man holding drug money in his hand. “Go straight home and forget who you've seen here today. Mention it to anyone and I'll come for your whole family. That’s a promise."
Juan Pablo glances at my side profile, his shocked expression turns ghostly pale. He knows what’s happening here. The guy has unwanted hero status written all over him. Which makes any secret signals for help pointless.
Tomás slides his arm around my shoulders and cuddles me against him like a macho boyfriend. Even though it’s purely for show, I find his absurd show of affection really arousing. It’s then when I notice he’s taken possession of his golden revolver again, draping it over my chest with the aim directed at the checkered linoleum.
“So what will it be, big guy? That’s a life changing sum. Bet when you woke up this morning you didn’t think a Souza would stroll in for breakfast. You can thank her.” He squeezes me. “She’s a hot little rebel with a mouth to die for.”
I swallow hard. What a sexy as fuck jerk. I can’t decide if I want to slap his face or sit on his lap. Despite his crude praise, the three of us know Juan Pablo’s life is on the line if he does anything stupid.