Plata (8 page)

Finally, he could bear it no more. With surprising strength, he scooped her into his arms and pulled her down, kissing her feverishly before they’d even hit the floor. He was like a different man; a feral creature who wanted to devour her whole. His mouth traveled the length of her neck, gently biting it at the curve, which awakened sensations Madison had never felt. She arched her back, longing to feel his tongue on her breasts. He eagerly complied, sucking rhythmically at her nipples until she was panting. Then his mouth found the soft, ticklish underside, which he licked and kissed.

Madison tried to wrap her legs around his body, desperate to press herself against him, but Pierre wouldn’t allow it. Instead he continued to set fires with his mouth, unrelenting; wanting to taste all of her. When he reached the velvet thong, he paused for a moment to stroke it gently with his finger. He caressed the core of her, pressing just hard enough to make her moan.

She was dizzy with pleasure, both dying for the release and never wanting it to end. Nothing had ever felt so right on her body as his strong, calloused hands;his mouth. She wanted to feel them on her every day for the rest of her life.

When Pierre slipped the fabric of the thong aside, Madison bit her lip in suspense. Even though she’d always longed to experience it, no man’s mouth had ever touched her there. The guys she’d dated had been too inexperienced and afraid. Pierre seemed to sense her eagerness, and hesitated. She squeezed her eyes closed tight, unconsciously rocking her pelvis in anticipation. When at last she felt the unbelievable softness of his tongue on her, she cried out and clenched at his hair. She lifted herself to him as he licked her, scarcely aware of her loud, savage cries. At first she tried to hold out, to make it last as long as she could. But it was no use. The pleasure rocketed through her with such ecstatic force that it took her breath away.

Pierre quickly pulled the thong down her legs and climbed on top of her, abandoning all restraint. Madison gazed up at his beautiful face, like the masterwork of a sculptor. Suddenly, she just had to see his body, to expose his flesh and touch it. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt.

“Take it off,” she muttered breathlessly. “Take all of it off.”

Pierre’s eyes twinkled at her commands. He ripped off the shirt and pulled the white undershirt over his head. His chest was solid with a light smattering of dark curls. His muscular arms were each encircled at the bicep with barbed wire tattoos. Madison stroked the tattoos with her fingers.

“God, you’re sexy,” she whispered, tugging impatiently at the buttons on his trousers.

His hands went to her breasts, which he squeezed and rubbed while Madison fought with the buttons. The fire was rising inside her again. Frustrated, she yanked at the fly, sending the buttons skittering in every direction. Pierre was so drunk with desire he didn’t even seem to notice. He frantically freed himself of the pants and his boxer briefs in one go. And then he was there, all of him, skin hot and pressing against her. She ran her hands over his smooth back, and then stroked his tattoos again.

Their lips met and they kissed tenderly until Pierre’s hunger grew too strong. His breaths were ragged as he pushed inside her. At first he closed his eyes to savor the sensation. He thrust deep and slow at first, muttering in rapid-fire French. Then he rolled over and pulled Madison on top of him. There she felt him filling her completely, and she moaned. As she began to rock back and forth, Pierre watched her intently. He watched her full, parted lips, her young, bouncing breasts, her taut stomach, concentrating hard on holding on. But when she pinched at his nipples and caressed them with the soft tip of her finger, he gasped. She couldn’t help but move faster, feeling the swelling at her core once again; flooding her brain, taking control. He gritted his teeth as she bucked on top of him, until he gripped her thighs and threw back his head, his hoarse shout sending her over.

When at last their panting breaths had slowed and the low lulling of the cello dominated the room once again, Pierre sat up and gazed at Madison’s beautiful, spent body for a long time. When she met his eyes, he smiled.

“Madison,” he whispered. “You are the strangest, most sensual creature alive.”

That night, for the first time since her father died, Madison felt safe. She curled against Pierre, ensconced in his arms. On the bedside table was a book of essays by French intellectuals, and Madison asked if Pierre would read to her. Though she couldn’t understand the language, it was beautiful to listen to him; to live the fantasy she’d had since she could remember. He was perfect. They were perfect together. And yet that night would likely be the only night they would ever spend together.

When Madison awoke, for a moment she thought she was dead. The room was blindingly white with a skylight directly overhead where sunlight flooded in and created an ethereal glow. The bed sheets and down comforter were also meticulously, relentlessly white.Pierre’s alarm had sounded, alerting him to a morning meeting. But the feel of Madison’s soft skin instantly aroused him, and they’d made love again until they were tangled in the sheets and breathless.

At breakfast, Madison grew quiet and remote. She couldn’t stop thinking of the deal she’d made with Ramon. If Pierre only knew, he would do everything in his power to put a stop to it. But it was something she had to do. Though she knew that Pierre was rich enough to give her the money she needed, and probably would if she’d asked, accepting it would mean cheapening everything. After selling so much of herself, she refused to reduce their love affair to a base, transactional exchange. She sensed that Pierre felt this way, too.

Pierre wanted Madison to stay with him until she had to leave for the States, but she told him she had to go home and pack.

“Just one last night with my best friend Enzo,” she lied, her cheeks flushed with guilt. “And then I’ll come back.”

And she hoped beyond hope that she would.

Chapter 15

Enzo had started working at a new Cuban cabaret, dancing a Tropicana-style show every night for weeks, so Madison didn’t have to explain to anyone where she was going that night. She chose the black, backless gown from her work collection, which always seemed to make her the most money.She made up her face, combed her hair in a sexy style, and headed out the door before eight o’clock.

When she stepped through the front gate, she was so hopped up on adrenaline that she didn’t notice the damp chill in the air, or realize that she’d forgotten a coat. A black SUV with dark tinted windows was already idling in the quiet street, waiting.The moment Madison appeared, Ramon got out of the passenger side. He was dressed in a tan sports coat with black jeans, and fancy white cowboy boots.His eyes darted around at the shadows, as if expecting someone to be hiding there. He pulled a duffle bag from the floor of the car and gestured toward Enzo’s house.

“Hurry up,” he said by way of a greeting.“Let’s take this inside.”

For a moment, Madison just blinked at him, not comprehending. Then she realized it was the money. A duffle bag filled with money. She led Ramon inside and up the stairs to her room, trying not to look nervous. But it was Ramon who was nervous this time. He tossed the bag on her bed.

“Want to count it?” he asked.

Madison sat down on the bed and unzipped the bag. Inside were bundles and bundles of hundred dollar bills, each bound with a rubber band, just like in the movies.She fingered them, pretending to count, but she felt dazed and couldn’t focus. One thing was for sure: she was running her hands through rivers and rivers of plata.

“Arizona,” Ramon growled. “I need you to get one thing straight. This money is not just for coming with me to the party tonight.” He looked directly at her, and his steely eyes made her blood run cold. “It’s also for keeping your mouth shut.”

“About what?” she breathed.

“Anything and everything you see tonight.” He held her in a steely gaze. “And no questions. Do you understand?”

Madison nodded dumbly. There was no turning back now. She followed him down the stairs and into the street, where the SUV was waiting. Ramon opened the back door.

“Get in.”

Gerardo, the silent, fat man who was always with Ramon at the club, sat at the wheel. Madison climbed into the back seat, which reeked of cigarettes and cologne. The moment the door closed, she felt trapped. Her heart began to race, and she struggled to catch her breath. Ramon sat in the passenger seat, one foot on the dashboard, rubbing at scuff marks on his boot. No one spoke. The air was thick with tension and anxiety.

Madison stared out at the architectural hodgepodge on Insurgentes street, with its grand, colonial-style restaurants and low-slung car repair shops. At traffic lights, shoeless children meandered in and out of the cars selling glow sticks and sugary gum. She felt a flutter of guilt when a small boy with a tray of knick-knacks knocked blindly on her window, knowing that whoever sat behind the dark glass had plenty of money to spare. It was a cruel world. Suddenly, Ramon turned around in his seat to face her.

“Here,” he said, thrusting a box over his shoulder and into her hands. “Put this on.”

Madison opened the box and found a beautifully sewn jade green dress, made of a thick, exotic fabric that shimmered in the darkness. She looked up quizzically at Ramon, but he’d already turned back and was staring out the side window.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“No questions,” Ramon said flatly without turning around.

Madison pulled the dress from the box and held it up. It looked a little small, she thought, but she clearly didn’t have a say in the matter. She glanced up and saw Gerardo watching her in the mirror, waiting for the show. Being inside the enclosed space made her feel shy about taking off her clothes. But she took a breath and thought of the mound of bills in her closet.

She slipped the shoulder straps down and pulled the dress to her waist. She could feel Gerardo’s gaze boring into her naked breasts. Pretending not to care, she slid the dress over her hips and pulled it free of her feet. Ramon turned around and looked at her, a half smile on his face. His eyes luxuriated over her nearly naked body as she fumbled her way into the tight, jade dress. Embarrassed, she tugged at the fabric to pull it over her hips.

“Be careful with it,” Ramon suddenly snapped. “If you tear it, we’re fucked.”

Mystified, Madison carefully pulled the dress over her voluptuous form, relieved that it did, indeed, fit. Ramon looked relieved as well. Satisfied, he turned back to the window and fell silent again. No one spoke for the rest of the ride.

They quickly breached the boundaries of Madison’s familiar stomping ground. It was such an enormous city that she couldn’t know even a fraction of it in so short a time. They passed through a few decrepit neighborhoods, and then into an elegant stretch of mansions nestled into a hillside. The SUV navigated hairpin turns until Madison was sick to her stomach, climbing until they’d reached the summit.

The house was like a glass tower at the top of the hill. It glowed softly against the night sky, and even from the front door,city lights shimmered everywhere below them. When they arrived, the house was already crowded with elegantly dressed guests. A servant stood at the door and nodded at Madison and Ramon as they went past.

Inside, the place was extravagant and gaudy, with wall-to-wall carpeting, imitation Renaissance paintings in gilded frames, and a gurgling marble fountain. The ceiling-to-wall windows of the front room look out onto an ethereal infinity pool, where several naked women were laughing and splashing around. Madison noticed that of the many guests at the party, most of them were women. Occasionally she would see a short, rough-hewn man in a cowboy shirt, his arm around a busty woman in a low cut dress, chatting flirtatiously with a cluster of beautiful women.

Ramon looked anxious, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for someone. He led Madison to an up-lit bar in the corner of the room, where a young man was pouring wine and making cocktails. When the bartender saw him, he quickly snapped to attention; like a grunt soldier approached by an officer. Without asking Madison what she wanted to drink, Ramon ordered her a glass of white wine. He didn’t get a drink for himself.

“Ramon,” called a tall, dark-skinned man who was quickly crossing the room. He was wearing a white suit with a dark red shirt, and even had a handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket.“We’ve been waiting!”

Ramon grabbed Madison’s wrist and pulled her away from the bar. He said nothing to the man, but followed him through the raucous crowd, down a long, dimly lit hall, and up a bizarre glass staircase. Each smoky glass step was illuminated from within, glowing with blue light.

The upstairs walls were painted gold and more plush white carpet covered the floors. The tall man led them down another hallway, and then into a room at the farthest corner of the house. He knocked briefly, and then opened the door. Inside it was windowless and claustrophobic, and all of the walls were bare. It was sparsely furnished with a few large sectional couches and coffee tables, where half-empty bottles of water were scattered about. Several short, rough-neck types were gathered on the couches. At the end of the room was a well-dressed, bearded man sitting behind a desk. There were no pictures or adornments on the desk, which Madison found strange. Her stomach was so tightly clenched she couldn’t even drink the wine.

The man behind the desk waved Ramon over, while the others sat in obsequious silence. Ramon cleared his throat and approached the bearded man.

“I’d like a cigarette,” he said in a low, strange voice. “May I reach into my jacket pocket?”

The bearded man gave him a cold stare, then nodded at the tall man in the white suit, who walked over to Ramon. He pulled out a silver cigarette box and held it open. With a grunt, Ramon picked out a cigarette and slipped it between his lips. Like a waiter at the club, the tall man flicked a lighter, gallantly offering the flame to Ramon.

“So,” said the bearded man, whose voice was nasal and low. “Is this it?”

His eyes fixed on Madison, who audibly gasped with surprise. But no one seemed to notice or care about her fear.

Ramon pulled hard on his cigarette and nodded. “Yup.”

The man leaned over his desk, eying Madison up and down. Ramon had set her up, she thought. She wasn’t here to be his date. He wanted something else entirely, something sinister. She looked at Ramon, but he seemed to have forgotten her for the moment. His focus was on the bearded man, who he watched, squinting through the cigarette smoke, as if waiting for his next move.

“Extraordinary,” the man mumbled.

He slowly rose to his feet and made his way around the desk, hobbling like an old man, though he wasn’t more than fifty. When he reached Madison, he reached out a liver-spotted hand and stroked her waist. Too afraid to protest, Madison stood frozen, holding her breath. The man nodded his approval, and walked behind Madison. He stopped, and she could hear his chain-smoker’s wheeze very near. Then she felt his hand run the length of her back and down along her bottom. When he stepped in front of her again, he slowly dragged his fingers over her breasts, stopping to tweak her nipple. Madison jumped, but the men in the room burst into laughter. She glared at Ramon, hating him more than she’d ever hated another human being. But he stared straight ahead, smoking and waiting.

At last the man went back to his desk and sat down. He stared at Madison for a moment longer, and then nodded at his assistant. As the white-suited man approached Madison, he pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. She felt her knees buckle. Not knowing what to do, she grabbed onto Ramon.

“Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears. “Don’t let him…”

But Ramon pushed her away impatiently. “Go ahead,” he assured the man. “She’s fine.”

The bearded man at the desk let out a grunting laugh and shook his head with amusement. “Women get so attached to beautiful things.”

There was laughter from the group again. As Ramon held Madison still, the white-suited man positioned his blade against her stomach. Tears streamed down her face, as she flashed on the stories she’d heard about women being snatched from Tijuana streets to be raped and murdered at wealthy snuff parties. She felt like such an idiot to have chased money all the way to this horrible place;to these nefarious men. And yet it seemed somehow right. Just like her father, it was money that would be the death of her.

Madison bit her lip and closed her eyes, anticipating the pain. But the blade of the man’s knife only grazed the thick fabric, splitting it apart. She opened her eyes and saw that the dress was lined through and through with hard, pressed cocaine.

Once an agreement was reached, the atmosphere in the room immediately lightened. The somber men on the sofas pulled out their cigarettes, and the man in the white suit brought in a bottle of Patrón tequila, and a tray full of glasses. The bearded man slapped Ramon on the back and shook his head in wonder.

“It’s quite lovely,” he said, still admiring the dress. “And what’s inside it isn’t so bad, either.”

Ramon smiled. “Keep it. As a gesture of friendship and good faith.” He turned to Madison. “Take it off, honey.”He gestured casually at the dress as if he were asking her to remove her shoes at the door.

She stared at him in horror. “Right now?”

His expression darkened, and he glowered at her. “Now.”

Without another word, Madison pulled off the tight dress. There was a hush over the room as the men smoked and watched her bare herself. She wanted to cover her breasts with her arms, but forced herself to stand tall. What was one more time? The bearded man smiled and nodded his approval. He put his hands on her breasts and gave them a squeeze, as if she were nothing more than a blowup doll gag gift. Something trifling and expendable.

Madison was humiliated, but relieved. Ramon beckoned to Gilberto, who was sprawled on the sofa with the other men, silently smoking and drinking. With great effort, he pulled his ample body off the couch and waddled over.

“Give Arizona your jacket,” Ramon commanded.

Gilberto shrugged out of his massive blazer. He draped it around Madison’s shoulders, dwarfing her completely. It was musky and damp, but she gladly pulled it around her. Ramon put a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the door. Gilberto followed like a somber Rottweiler trailing his owner.

“Take her home,” Ramon muttered. “Walk her inside. Give her the rest of the fucking plata. Then come back here.”

He opened the door and gently pushed her through it.

“What did I say, blondie?” he grumbled. “Easy money. Easy fucking money.”