Read Dirty Angels 02 Dirty Deeds Online

Authors: Karina Halle

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Adult

Dirty Angels 02 Dirty Deeds (11 page)

BOOK: Dirty Angels 02 Dirty Deeds
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He stepped to the edge of the bed and I quickly remembered I had condoms in my purse.

“Condom,” I told him. “I haven’t been taking my pill properly since the accident.”

He nodded, almost looking a bit sheepish for not suggesting it, and went over to the chair and fished a foil packet out of the purse. He ripped it open and slid it on him and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight.

He came back to the edge of the bed and took a hard hold of my thighs and yanked me toward him.

“I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice sliding over me like rough silk. I agreed and wrapped my legs around his firm, tight hips. I winced slightly at the sight of my cast, knowing it couldn’t feel too nice against his skin but he didn’t even seem to notice. He positioned the head of his cock at my opening and moaned as his fingers drifted over my slickness. Then he grabbed my thighs even harder, holding them up as he thrust into me.

I gasped from the welcome intrusion, his stiff length as it struck deep. He felt so good inside of me, so full, so thick. My fingers grabbed the edges of the blanket, holding on as he pulled in and out, so slowly, so deliciously, and I expanded again and again to take him all in.

“Yes,” he hissed as he pumped into me. I stared up at him, at the mammoth man, my legs looking so small in his capable hands. There was a sheen of sweat over his hard body, his muscles flexing as he fucked me harder and harder, his hips swiveling and driving in as deep as he could go. When he was pushed into the hilt, he paused and then started to rub my clit with his thumb, even though I was so close to coming without it.

He stared down at me as he brought me to orgasm, his eyes filling with lust and want and maddening desire. There was something else in them though, some kind of sadness or loneliness that would have hit me in the heart if he hadn’t just pushed me over the edge.

I came violently, my body screaming with the release of it all, the release of everything. I writhed and spasmed, feeling no pain, no weight, no shadows. It was all just light and I was warm and fuzzy and in an angel’s hands. An angel who was coming himself with a few loud grunts and a well-placed, “Fuck, Alana, fuck.”

I moaned happily, feeling satisfied like nothing else. That
was
one hell of a fuck.

He pulled out of me, disposed of the condom and then climbed into bed, pulling me up so I was beside him. I wanted to get up to go to the washroom, to have some water, to wash my face but before I knew it I was succumbing to his arms once again.

We must have dozed off for a few hours because when I woke up in his arms, the sun was bright and relentless through the window. I turned to look at him and was surprised to see him staring at me, blinking at the light.

“Hi,” I said softly. I couldn’t help smiling. It danced on my lips. I couldn’t remember the last time I had woken up with a man beside me. Usually one of us left during the night.

I also couldn’t remember feeling this warm and secure before. For once I wasn’t waking up with a pit of loneliness inside me.

“Good morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

I nodded. “How long was I out for?”

“Hours.”

“Did you sleep?”

He smiled stiffly. “I rarely sleep.”

Right. The nightmares.

“Listen,” he said, adjusting himself on his side and trailing his fingers along my collarbone. “I’ve been thinking. I think you should stay with me.”

I raised my brows. This was new. “What, here?”

“Yeah. Just for the time being.”

“You don’t trust me?”

He gave me a steady look. “I don’t trust anyone and especially not around you. I told you I wanted to take care of you. I want to protect you. I can’t do that when you’re injured and living all the way out there, by yourself.”

“My friends …”

“Your friends are wonderful but they’re busy with their own lives. And they’re women. No offense, but unless one of them has some special training up their sleeves, they’re going to get hurt in the process. Except for maybe Luz. She seems like she’d be brutal.”

I bristled at that. “They’d protect me. You don’t know them.”

“I know they’d try and that’s admirable. But I’m a strong man and I have military training. I have ways of protecting, real ways. You know these people aren’t playing, that this isn’t a game. If there’s a chance that someone is still out there, wanting you dead, then I have to do what I can to ensure they don’t touch you.”

“But we don’t know that.”

“And I’m not willing to chance that. You’re off work now, you obviously need help even if there wasn’t anything going on. Let me do this for you.”

I blinked at him. “But why?”

“Well, if you can’t already tell, I like being around you. With you. Inside you.” He put his hand under my chin and pushed it up so I was looking at him. His gaze was so focused. “Maybe some of this is selfish. I want you for myself.”

Butterflies scattered in my stomach.

“Okay,” I told him. “I’ll stay here. Just for a bit. Until you get tired of me.”

“Never,” he said and kissed me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Derek

Even though Alana had agreed to stay in my hotel room for a while, we still weren’t in any rush to get out of bed. In fact, we stayed there all day, only taking a break to have room service.

We were both wrapped in hotel robes after enjoying a shower together. She’d gone down on me in there. She couldn’t drop to her knees because of her cast, but the shower seat worked just fine. The woman certainly knew how to fuck with her mouth. She also had this uncanny ability to fuck you with her eyes at the same time.

When Carmen died, everything had changed for me. Her brutal, haunting demise, right in front of me changed the course of my life. It was all my fault. The two cartels, she never should have been caught in the middle of it. I never should have been involved. They said she was in the wrong place at the wrong time but I knew it was more than that. Carlos had shown such little compassion for his sister before, the fact that she was there at all, during that transaction, was a sign. He didn’t care who got hurt, who died. Neither did the other side.

She was gunned down in front of my eyes. I can still see her running for me from across the road, the fear so rampant on her delicate face. She was telling me to get out of there while I stood there dumbly, my mouth open. I think I was yelling at her to do the same. I can’t really remember. One minute I had been waiting in the car, the next I was trying to reach her. It was all a blur. But I do remember the rose shade of her lipstick, the way her long red and white dress flowed behind her and how, somehow in that terrible moment, she looked more beautiful than she did on our wedding day.

Then it’s all erased by gunfire. Hot blasts. Bullets bouncing off the pavement. Smoke.

Blood.

She was shot on both sides. She was riddled with bullets from her brother, from the people I worked for, and ripped apart by the Gulf Cartel.

She was the first victim. The only innocent one.

Seconds later, others died. The cartels faced off, both meaning to leave no one alive.

I don’t know how I didn’t run into the middle of it all, to go to Carmen’s lifeless body as she lay face down on the street, the blood pooling around her and creating new abstract patterns in her dress. I know at that moment I wanted to die. I wanted to join her.

But after everything I’d been through, my survival instincts were stronger than my soul. I removed myself from the scene. I drove back to our house. I packed up everything I had that was important. It all went in a gym bag.

I got back in my car and I drove.

I drove for days and days, my eyes burning behind the wheel during the day. At night I cried and grieved.

Nearly everyone had died in that battle. Everyone except for Carlos.

It didn’t seem fair.

I didn’t want anything to do with the Gulf cartel – I blamed them as equally as I blamed Carlos. So I went to the Zetas. I had a few contacts there. I gave them everything I had on Carlos. Then I offered my own brand of services.

They paid me a large amount of money. The next day I killed Carlos, three shots into his head while he was sleeping in his leather armchair. The maid knew me and though she was surprised to see me back, she let me in.

I had to kill her too.

And now I had blood on my hands. But I didn’t care. When Carmen died, I lost the ability to care about anything except blood and vengeance. I lost my humanity.

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.

BOOK: Dirty Angels 02 Dirty Deeds
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