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“Good choice.” Daniel pours us each a drink, and I look back at Geronimo who stands again just behind me. I tilt my head and he gets the hint, taking a seat to my right and opposite Daniel who’s looking at him. “And you, parce? What’s your poison?”
“I’m driving. I’ll stick with water—”
“Join me in one,” I say, and he nods without another protest. Geronimo’s a good man. A good soldier and always on guard. “Poor him a double. We’re celebrating tonight.”
“Thank you, Patron.”
“Hagale and relax.” Looking back at Daniel, I raise my glass and the two men follow. “To the beginning of the end. To the death of many.” They nod, and so do the other men surrounding my area. “To the mercy of God finding a home in my country, because until that family is six feet under, every street will run red in supplication.”
“Your word is the law, Patron.”
“Those hijueputas don’t deserve to live.” The latter comes from Daniel.
“Your loyalty is appreciated, gentlemen. Salud,” I say, throwing back my drink and then sitting forward, grabbing the bottle to pour another round. For tonight, though, I won’t discuss my plans any further. Not with so many ears around. Not with a few familiar faces trying to subtly get close. “So, what does my favorite kiddo want for his birthday?”
Daniel doesn’t miss a beat and snorts. “The pony you promised.”
“Is he taking riding lessons yet?”
“Yeah, but the wife isn’t...” he’s talking, animatedly waving his hand between us, but I’ve stopped listening. There’s a sudden prickling sensation—an undercurrent that travels through my body as a giggle meets my ears—and my cock swells at the sound. It’s feminine and arousing, and I can’t stop myself from looking over at the private section across from mine.
A group of women, in their early twenties at the most, arrive and take their places around the center table where their drinks of choice await. At once, I’m picking apart their faces, trying to decipher which family in the capital they belong to. None seem familiar, though.
They’re laughing.
Shooting shots of clear liquid.
All except one.
Motherfucking Preciosa. I can’t take my eyes off the one to the far right and how she moves her hips sensually to the rhythm of reggaeton. She’s mouthwatering, and my heart beats like the stampede of a thousand wild beasts. My muscles tighten. My jaw ticks.
The sounds around us dim and my cock hardens, pulsing as the beautiful doll across from me twirls. Once. Twice. Five times while her hips undulate to the beat, the bottom of her strapless dress swirling around her mid-thighs.
She’s beautiful. Utterly indecent perfection.
On the last turn, her eyes wander my way and lock on mine. Light grey on my cognac, a bolt of volcanic need rushes down my spine. Licks at my skin. I’m aroused and hungry and near clawing at my flesh, but I stay right where I am.
My eyes traverse her short frame in a minuscule blush-colored party dress. I take in how the fabric shimmers, almost glowing around her with each tempting move. From her dainty, high-heeled feet to her slim waist and thick hips—to those larger-than-a-handful tits pushed up against the thin fabric—I find her to be the physical embodiment of sin. A temptation I won’t deny myself.
Not when her lips quirk up into a shy smile.
Not when a touch of pink sweeps across her cheeks.
Not when she subtly squeezes her thighs.
I see it. Her. Every delicious inch makes me throb, and pinning her beneath me is all I can focus on.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“No.”
“What’s got you so...oh. You found her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask Daniel, but my eyes remain on her, taking in how she bites her lower lip before accepting the shot the girl beside her offers. The little flower throws it back without pause; a small shiver runs through her—nipples pebbling into stiff little peaks as I watch her stand beneath soft lighting. I catalog the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The clenching of her small fingers around the glass. “You know her?”
“I do.”
My head snaps in his direction and my eyes narrow. “Explain?” I grit out, the malice behind my tone clear. For the first time in all our years of friendship, I want to shoot him,snap his neck, and all because the grin on his face holds a hint of salaciousness. Of a familiarity. “Talk, man, before conclusions are made that are not in your favor.”
