Malo - Page 3

But I’m not here for a cigarette. Much to my relief, it’s empty when I step out, no sign of anyone in either direction, the only sound the cars shooting past on the street beyond. I head down toward the dumpster and pull out the bag, tapping out a hefty line on the metal in front of me.

I stare down at it. Last chance to stop before you take the next step. I could just brush it away, dump the bag in the trash, pretend that it never even crossed my mind to come out here and do this, but I know, deep down, it’s not that easy. No, I need something to get my head out of the mess it’s been in today, and this is the only thing out there strong enough to make that happen.

I grab one of Beast’s cards from my wallet and start lining up the powder. I know he’d be fucking pissed if he saw me using something with his name on it to get my shit in order, but, if all things go to plan, he’s never going to know about it. I’m just going to take this hit, and that’s going to be the end of it, nothing more for either of us to worry about.

I clear my throat, glance around one more time, and am about to lean in to take the line when I hear footsteps coming from the alleyway beside me. I bolt upright again, head snapping around, sure I’ve been caught. I’m already coming up with a stack of excuses for whatever member of the club has just walked in on me, but instead of one of the burly bikers I expect to see, a young woman makes her way toward me instead.

I don’t recognize her, because damn, I’m sure I’d remember if I’d seen her before. She’s a knockout with chin-length black hair and deep brown eyes that seem to catch the light with golden flecks. She doesn’t look like she belongs in a dingy back alley like this.

She grins at me as she approaches, and my eyes trail up and down her body. She’s hot. Seriously hot. Long legs in cut-off shorts, a tight-fitting top that shows off every inch of her curves. She’s dressed like any one of the girls who hang around the bar, looking for whatever they can get from us, and normally, I wouldn’t given any of them a second glance. But there’s something about the way she’s looking at me, the way she’s making her way toward me, that has me stopping dead in my tracks. I shift my weight slightly so she can’t see the line I’ve made up on the dumpster. Though I doubt she’s exactly innocent to this kind of thing, I don’t want her to spot it.

“You mind if I join you?” she asks me, her voice low and sultry.

I shrug. “Join what?”

She reaches into the tiny bag slung over her shoulder and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. My gaze slides down to her hands, her fingers gliding over the lip of the pack as she slips one of the cigarettes between her lips. Grabbing a lighter, she lets the flame lick the end of the cigarette and then inhales deeply, she lets out a little cough and then breathes out a large plume of smoke that seems to wrap around the two of us.

She leans against the wall, eyes pinned on me, and I gaze back at her steadily. Normally, I wouldn’t even bother making conversation with the girls who hang around the Kings. They’re only looking for one thing, thinking they can handle all the danger that comes with being near us, but when it comes down to it, they don’t have a clue what they’re getting into.

She’s likely no different, but there’s an edge to her accent that interests me. Hispanic, I’m sure of it, though her English seems good enough.

“Where you from?” I ask her.

She grins. “Does it matter?” she retorts, tossing the question right back at me, shifting a little closer to me and closing the distance between us. I can smell her perfume, something sweet and bright, in between the puffs on her cigarette. She’s showing off a generous amount of cleavage in the top she wears, and it’s hard not to let my gaze wander.

Hell, it’s not as though she isn’t here for one thing and one thing only. Maybe she’s what I need to get my mind off everything, more than I need the line racked up on the dumpster behind me.

“You speak Spanish?” I ask her, using my native tongue. I half-expected her to frown at me in confusion and shake her head, cut me off before I can come out with anything else, but she nods.

“Yes, I sure do,” she replies in Spanish, with the confidence of a native speaker. Interesting. So she’s likely not from around here. That might explain why I haven’t seen her before. When did she get here? And what’s she doing spending her time hanging around a bar like the Hand when she could be anywhere else in this city?

“I like that,” I murmur, dropping my tone slightly, not paying much attention to the flood of questions that are presenting themselves at the back of my mind. Should I be more cautious? Yeah, probably. But right now, I’m feeling reckless. I want to lose myself to something, and it’s been way too long since I’ve let myself get distracted by a woman—let alone one as hot as this one.

“You do?” she replies, drawing her cigarette to her lips again, letting her mouth trace over the tip of it like she’s trying to tease me with it. Oh, she knows what she’s doing. I grin, slide a hand to her waist, and she arches her back, shifting herself toward me. Our bodies are almost pressed together now but not quite. I feel the heat coming off her in waves. I don’t know exactly why she’s decided that she wants me, but I don’t care. All that matters is that she’s here, she’s making it clear what she needs—and that she looks hot as fuck while she does it.

“Mhm,” I murmur, and my eyes drop down to her mouth. Those full lips, ripe like fruit, practically begging for me to sink my teeth into them. I can already feel myself stirring at the sight of her, and the line on the dumpster is all but forgotten. Not to mention the fact that getting caught with a woman is going to cause me far less trouble in the long run than getting caught snorting a line back here would.

“You want to tell me what else you like?” she asks as she finishes her cigarette, dropping it onto the ground and crushing it beneath the heel of her shoe.

“I guess I can think of a few things to start,” I say while looking at her. I watch a warm, pink flush appear on her cheeks as she considers all the possibilities.

“Why don’t you show me?” she replies, and I grin, pulling her roughly into me, listening to the way her breathing quickens as she feels me pressed against her.

“With pleasure,” I murmur back, and finally, I plant my mouth against hers for the first time.

CHAPTER 4

MARIA

Knees pressed together to try and maintain what little dignity I have in this outfit, I glance around the bar once more. I don’t know how much longer I’m supposed to wait to keep watch for someone with that vest I’ve been told about, but I’m already starting to get tired. I want nothing more than to kick off these pinchy heels and change back into the warm embrace of my sweatpants once again.

The Deadman’s Hand is the last place I want to be right now. Hell, I have no idea why anyone would want to spend an evening at this place. It’s hardly the classiest establishment, the beer is cheap, the floors are sticky, and the bar seems to be full of people who are either running from or looking for trouble. I’m not sure exactly where I fall along that line, but I don’t think it matters.

No, what matters is blending in as best I can. I know how on-edge everyone is here, at least, that’s what I’ve been told. The place was raided by the cartel a few months ago, and ever since then, security has been even tighter. Every new person who comes into the place is examined through a more critical eye. Being a woman, it’s easier for me to slip past their boundaries, but that doesn’t mean they won’t turn on me if I give them any reason to think I might be up to something.

Which is exactly why I have kept my mouth shut about what I’m really looking for here—the Ruthless Kings. The biker gang who owns this place are the ones I’ve been sent to scope out, and I don’t know how much longer they’re going to keep me waiting. I’ve been watching the door for nights on end every week, waiting for any man wearing the vest I’ve seen pictures of to walk in, but they’ve been keeping their heads down, and I haven’t spotted one yet.

I guess they’re doing their best to slide under the radar for the time being. Maybe they know there are people out there looking for them, though I doubt they would have looked twice at me. I’ve been doing everything I can to blend in with the rest of the girls who hang around these bars, even though it’s all completely alien to me. They have this confidence about them, this casual sex appeal that comes off them in waves. I’ve seen more than one of them slip out back for a hook-up with a guy they like the look of when they get the chance. I’ve never done something like that in my life—hell, I haven’t had a whole lot of sex, if I’m being honest, given how busy I’ve been with my studies.