Junkie (Broken Doll #1) (16 page)

“I’ll set it up, Boss. If it’s what you think is best.”

“I do.” I cut off any objection Milo might have before he could voice it. I was damn sick and tired of Milo forgetting his place in my organization and didn’t want to have a repeat of the other day to refresh his memory. Enough blood had been shed and with a possible war looming, more was sure to spill before it ended.

I rubbed my forehead and stared out the back window. It was almost dusk, the lush gardens nothing more than dark, fluttering shadows in the fading light.

Jesus. Fucking fluttering shadows?

Miri was making me soft. Before she came along, I would have already taken Milo out without giving it a second thought. His constant insubordination, challenging everything I said and every order I gave, was inexcusable. And there was no way I would be staring at some fucking flowers with a stupid fucking smile on my face. I would be surrounded by my men, plotting the best way to eliminate my neighbors in San Antonio.

When I realized Milo had moved and was standing behind me, I turned and shot him glare, one eyebrow lifted. I was determined to prove I wasn’t weak. If that meant going back to being the ruthless Boss I’d been before Miri showed up in my life, then so be it. Miri or not, that side of me was never far away.

“Why the fuck are you just standing there, Milo? Get the hell out and go set up the fucking meeting.”

Milo bristled, but left the study without argument. Thank fuck. Maybe he was done with all his rebellious bullshit. He was the best man in my organization by far, and the most cold-blooded motherfucker I’d ever met. Milo would be critical to winning any war that might start between my regime and Los Guerreros. Besides, it would be a pain in the ass to replace him with someone of equal skill this late in the game. If we did go to war, I decided I would get rid of Milo when it was done. He’d stepped across one too many lines and had to go.

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.

I
n 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.

Heat unfurled between my thighs, 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.”

“Fuck, doll.”

His mouth crashed down on mine. The tenderness was gone, replaced by voracious hunger. Jag dominated my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue in roughly, taking what he wanted, what he needed, and I loved every second of it. Having this gorgeous, powerful, dangerous man so desperate to have me turned me on like nothing else. I wiggled beneath him and lifted one leg to wrap around his narrow waist. Jag gasped when the head of his cock slipped into my entrance. He ripped his mouth away from mine and threw his head back. The tendons in his neck stood out as he strained from the effort it took to stop. Jag ground his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Christ, Miri. Let me get a condom.” He opened his eyes and met mine.

“Your man,” I panted, still attempting to move and force in more of his cock. “He took blood from me to check… because of the drug use. He said I didn’t have anything.”

“Yeah, I told him to do it. I was worried about you,” Jag whispered, his pupils dilating. “I don’t have anything here, but—”

“I trust you. I want this.” I shifted my hips again and took in another inch or two of Jag’s cock. “Want to feel all of you.”

“Holy…” Jag’s head dropped next to mine, his hot breath against my neck. “I’ve never fucked anyone without a condom, Miri. I can’t… It’s…
Ohgod
. It feels too fucking good.”

“Please, Jag. I-I need this. I need you.”

I had absolutely no clue why I needed Jag to take me bare, but I did… desperately. Maybe because it would mean he completely owned me. A part of him would be inside me when he came. I wanted that, I needed it, I craved it more than any hit of H I ever had.

“Jesus Christ, you’re killing me.” Jag’s voice was pained, but despite his brain telling him to stop, his body began to move. He pulled his hips back and slid forward in a long, slow stroke. “So goddamn good, Miri.” Jag repeated the move, retreating and thrusting in even slower this time. Back and forth, in and out, agony and ecstasy. My body hummed with pleasure, nerve endings primed and ready to fire at any second. But Jag never changed his pace, never fucked me hard enough or fast enough to bring me past the intense, torturous edge I clung to.

“More.” I dug my heels into his firm ass and clawed at his back, but he refused to stop the sweet agony.

“I don’t ever want this to end, doll. So fucking good… so hot and tight.” He hissed and bared his teeth. “It’s like your pussy was made to fit my cock.” His words sent a ripple of pleasure down my spine and I clenched hard around his cock. Jag’s entire body jerked above me. “Goddammit! Fuck, Miri.”

He pushed to his knees, threw my legs over his shoulders, and wrapped his hands around my thighs, eyes half-closed, a deep midnight color, burning from beneath thick black lashes. Firm hands held me in place as Jag punched his hips forward. I cried out from the sheer force and the relief of finally getting fucked harder.

“That what you want?” Jag held perfectly still until I answered.

“Yes! Ungh, please… More!”

Jag snapped his hips again, this time hard enough that it took my breath away and I slid up the bed. Afraid of smashing my head, I braced my hands on the headboard and nodded. Jag’s lip curled in a feral snarl and
finally
, he let loose. Jag rammed into me hard and fast. My sharp cries morphed into a single long, incoherent moan as he pounded me relentlessly, taking me like a rutting beast in the throes of heat. I couldn’t take my eyes off Jag as he moved. He was beautiful. His abs rippled with each undulation of his hips. Sweat shone off his glorious chest and his shoulders and biceps bulged and flexed as he held on to my thighs. His body was a work of art.

But it was Jag’s facial expressions that had me mesmerized. Jag in the throes of passion—wild, uninhibited, and taking exactly what he wanted—was absolutely stunning. His dark hair was damp and flopped down over his eyes, his nostrils flared and his lips were parted while he hissed various curses and grunts.

Jag released my legs and leaned forward, resting his full weight on me. He reached up and tugged my hands off the headboard. Jag threaded his fingers with mine on the pillow above my head. Our eyes met and he held the contact, mesmerizing me with a look of absolute wonder in his gaze. A trickle of sweat fell from his chin to land on my upper lip. Before I could catch it with my tongue, Jag dove down, licked the drop, and gave me a deep kiss, melding our mouths together.

When he began moving again, he kept his eyes locked on mine. Jag’s expression was so intense it sent a chill down the back of my neck. He looked at me as if he were in shock and awe. I wasn’t sure if it made me uncomfortable or made me feel like the most precious thing in the world. Fingers entwined, Jag rocked back and forth above me, his pelvic bone rubbing my clit as his cock went as deep as possible, bottoming out with each thrust. My muscles tightened and a ripple of heat spread out from my core.

“God, Miri. I’m fixin’ to fucking blow.” Jag’s eyes rolled back in his head and he picked up the pace. That rumbling Texas drawl went straight to my groin and my body detonated around him. I screamed from the overwhelming force of my orgasm, shuddering and clenching from head to toe. “Holy fuck! Oh god… Shit, Miri.” Jag’s rhythm faltered. His hands gripped mine almost painfully and he pushed in one last time. Jag threw his head back and roared as he emptied his thick release. I felt pulse after pulse of his hot cum flooding my insides.

Suddenly, the room was quiet save for our heavy breathing. Jag let go of my hands and rolled onto his back next to me. I swallowed and licked my lips, my throat dry from shouting. Jag’s eyes were closed, his chest moving up and down as he recovered. Aftershocks of pleasure zipped across my skin, leaving my body floaty and tingling.

Exhausted, sleep began to wash over me and my eyes became heavy. If I could, I’d spend all night staring at Jag’s stunning face and body. As I drifted off, I wondered if he’d be here in the morning or if I’d just made a huge mistake. Before I could give it any further thought, sleep claimed my consciousness, just like the man in my bed claimed my heart.

Reluctantly, I dragged my ass out of bed to use the bathroom. When I returned to the bedroom, I watched Miri sleep, her face relaxed, her naked body half tangled in the sheet. God, she was so fucking gorgeous it hurt.. I shouldn’t be here. Getting involved with Miri with a war looming and her living in my house… fuck, it was such a bad idea. I ran a hand down my face and exhaled. I should leave. Go back to my room and sleep the same way I always do, alone. Miri stirred and a soft sigh floated from her pink lips. Despite knowing it was the worst possible choice for her, I climbed back into bed with Miri, and pulled her into my arms.

The next thing I knew, I blinked and the gray light of dawn slanted through the window. It took a minute to realized my phone was vibrating from the pocket of my jeans on the floor. Exhausted, my first thought was to ignore it, but I couldn’t. My men never bothered me without a good reason, especially this early in the day. With the heels of my hands, I rubbed my tired eyes, sat up, snagging my jeans to pull the phone out and check the text. It was from Sarge, my head of security.