Tease Me (5 page)

And money.

A fucking lot of money. I had multiple
houses, expensive cars, staff to wait on me, and the best of
everything. Inheriting my last name was one of the best things I
took from my father.

And sometimes the worst.

We, the Calaveras, were revered in Mexico.
Our “family business” went back several generations. It had grown
the most during my father’s time. I felt the pressure to uphold our
name and keep the money coming in now that I was the boss.

It was stressful. Nobody told me that. No one
warned me that everything fell on me, that I had to make sure
things ran according to plan, to look for rats, that trusting
anyone was a risk.

That was half of the reason I was here. This
house, one of the many I owned, was my favorite. It was the
smallest of the three but was in my hometown of Zihuatanejo. I felt
at home. My mother’s grandparents had lived here, in a shitty-ass
cottage on a wooded cliff that overlooked the ocean.

The house became even shittier until it was
condemned. I bought it just for the property. I had the thing
demolished and built the new house instead.

I quickly showered then went to the balcony
off the master bedroom. The ocean view alone was what had made me
go through the trouble of rebuilding on this piece of property. I
could watch the waves for hours. I could stare at the dark water
and forget everything if just for a moment. I liked being out on
the water, seeing nothing but blue around me and feeling like
nothing and nobody could catch me.

The sun was setting, reflecting a rainbow of
brilliant colors onto the water, and I was hungry. I’d spent the
day on the phone, making deals and negotiating prices. Along with
setting up a warehouse here, I was expanding the business even
farther into the States. It was a risk. Sometimes good things were
worth the risk. The money doubled, and I made new business
connections.

I grasped the railing and closed my eyes,
remembering the way it felt to look at the ocean when I was just a
boy. I knew what my father did back then, but it all seemed
romanticized to me. The life of a drug lord was all play and no
work, right?

Hah. Fuck that.

Now I longed to feel free, to be beguiled by
the ocean like I had years ago. I was my father’s only son. I
always knew the business would fall on my shoulders. In my teen
years, I couldn’t wait. I’d throw around the family name like it
was candy, using it to lure in girls and intimidate guys.

I thought being the boss
meant fucking girls and sampling the merchandise whenever I wanted.
I thought it would be endless parties and bottomless booze. I never
knew there would be so much
business
to the business, that good drug kings didn’t do
their own shit. I didn’t realize I would be plagued with paranoia
all the time. I never thought I’d be so…so
uptight
.

I went to my bed and pulled off the
comforter. Red had left her panties. The moment was gone, and now
the lace lost its appeal.

I sank down on the bed, trying to relax for
the first time that day. I picked up the house phone to call down
and tell the staff I was ready to be served dinner.

My cellphone rang, interrupting me. The
ringtone let me know it was my business phone; I hurried to answer
it.

“
Alejandro,
señor
,” the voice on the
other end spoke.

“
¿Qué
pasa?
” I answered in Spanish.

“
It’s Diego.”

“
I know,” I went on. Diego
oversaw deals to the States and didn’t speak English. He’d been a
family friend for decades. I trusted him to have my back but not to
make the best decisions. He was good at following directions, at
least. “Why are you calling me?” I tried to stay calm.

“
We have a slight
problem.”

My heart spiked at the word “problem.” I
closed my eyes in a long blink. “What is it?”

“
Well…it started with that
officer.”

My blood boiled. Diego and his crew were in
Indianapolis, Indiana, delivering a large shipment of cocaine. We
knew the cops and even the Feds were watching us. They were always
watching, had been for years. But we’d covered our asses. They had
nothing concrete. I felt untouchable.

Until one of Diego’s guys got cocky and got
himself busted. The guy panicked and shot a cop…Detective Morgan
was the name, I think. Shot but didn’t kill him.

Fucking idiots.

Now the IPD as well as the DEA were hot on
our asses and knew about our involvement in that area. I’d told my
guys to finish the job and get out of there.

“
Get to the point, Diego,” I
grumbled.

“
That officer has a sister,”
he said and paused.

“
So?”

“
She’s a cop
too.”

“
And?” I demanded, needing
to know why this warranted a phone call.

“
She tried to bust us. But
we got her. Don’t worry, Boss.”

I blinked. “Got her?”

“
Yes. She’s with
us.”

I wanted to slam my head into the wall. “Did
you shoot another cop?”

“
No. I knew better than
that, sir. We took her.”

I wanted to slam my
face
into the wall. “You
kidnapped an officer. Where the fuck are you?”

“
The warehouse,
señor
.”

“
I’ll be right there,” I
said through clenched teeth. I hung up the phone and got dressed,
grabbing a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeve t-shirt. I
tucked a gun into the back of my pants. I hurried down the stairs
and pulled the keys to my Porsche on the way into the five-car
garage.

I sank into the driver’s seat. The car was
new. It smelled like rich leather. But even the new car scent did
little to calm me. I was mad. So fucking mad. I wanted to hit
Diego, never mind him being a friend, for doing something so
fucking dumb.

Shooting a cop was one thing.

Kidnapping and smuggling one across
international borders was another. I couldn’t let her go. I’d have
to kill her.

The sun was gone, replaced by a half moon
that slipped behind a blanket of thick, gray clouds. The breeze had
picked up, and the night air carried the sweet scent of rain.

I drove through the gates of the warehouse,
waving to my paid guards as I sped by. They were heavily armed and
on the top of their game. I slammed on the brakes, almost
forgetting to turn off the car before I got out.

I jammed the keys into my pocket and went
around to the door. It was double layers of steel and required an
electronic key and a fingerprint scan to get in.

The warehouse was set up to look like just
that: a warehouse. It was full of stuff I didn’t know how to use,
rusty machinery and tools. Things were run every now and then to
keep up the ruse.

The real business took place in the basement.
There were more armed guards by the stairwell, which was hidden
behind a false wall. I punched in a code and put my eye to a
scanner.

I jogged down the stairs, passing another set
of guards. They all gave me a curt nod, one of respect, as I
passed.

“
Diego,” I called. Three men
shuffled boxes around, weighing drugs before packing them. I strode
right past, earning stares and wide eyes. It wasn’t everyday the
boss came to work.

I found Diego and his right hand man, Carl,
speaking in fast, quiet voices outside a closet.

“
¿Dónde está la
chica
?
” I
demanded.

Diego used his thumb to
point behind him. “
Ella está
ahí
, senor
.”

“
Why the fuck didn’t you
leave her?”

Diego’s face paled. “She knew how we were.
Saw an exchange. She’d trace us.”

I clenched my teeth and shook my head. “So
your genius idea was to bring her here?” I waved my hand in the
air. There was no point in questioning Diego. It was already done.
Now I had to clean up the mess.

I pushed past him. “Let me speak to her.”

Carl opened the door and flicked on the
light. It hummed, slowly growing brighter and brighter. I narrowed
my eyes and was surprised by what I saw.

The cop wasn’t anything like I expected. She
was feminine and pretty, with soft brown hair and green eyes. She
was thin and athletic, with muscular legs that looked so smooth,
begging to be touched. She was wearing a tight black and pink dress
that had ridden up. I could see half her ass cheek.

Was she not wearing underwear? Warmth tingled
the tip of my dick.

Fuck.

That didn’t matter. She was bound and gagged.
Her makeup ran down her face from crying, and a pair of pink
stilettos had been tossed in the closet next to her.

“
¿Qué
haces?
” I said in Spanish.

The cop—if you could call her that—glared at
me. She said something, but her voice was muffled from the gag.

“
Take that off,” I said to
Diego. He stepped in, and the cop thrashed away, unable to get up
since her hands and feet were tied together. Diego grabbed her
harshly, and I had to fight the urge to tell him to be
careful.

I blinked. Why did I care? And why was I
feeling hot and bothered by watching her squirm around? My eyes
dropped from her face to her thighs. Her dress moved again. I
licked my lips. I caught a glimpse of a black thong.

Diego stepped back, and the cop caught me
staring. She bent her legs, doing her best to cover herself.

“
What the fuck do you want
from me?” she spat in English.

“
¿Qué
haces?
” I repeated, still speaking
Spanish.

“
I don’t know what you’re
saying!” she cried. “Please, just let me go! I won’t say anything,
but that doesn’t fucking matter. It’s not like you can understand
me anyway.”

I tipped my head, watching her. She yanked at
the ropes around her wrists. They were coming loose, and she knew
it. But she was acting like she wasn’t aware.

She was smart. Was she trying to play us? She
should be. I stepped forward. She squinted her eyes, taking a good
look at my face. Her jaw tightened, and she swallowed hard.

“
Get the fuck away from me!”
she yelled. “Please! Just let me go!”

I pushed my shoulders back. “Did you find any
identification on her?” I asked Diego.

“
Yes,
señor
,” Diego answered. “Do you want
me to get it,
senor
?”

“
No, but leave us. I need to
ask our
guest
a few
questions.”

“
Yes,
señor
,” Diego said and backed away. I
knew he and Carl were in the hall, both curious of the girl and
protective of me.

I knelt down and looked at the woman. She was
pretty, and hate burned in her eyes. It wasn’t something I was used
to seeing. Women’s eyes often smoldered when they looked at me, but
with lust. Not abhorrence.

Bits of hay and feathers stuck in her hair.
Oh, right. Diego was driving a livestock truck across the border.
They had thrown her in the back. I wished they hadn’t done
that.

I reached out to pull a feather from her
hair.

“
Don’t touch me,” she spat,
but I didn’t stop. I gently grabbed the feather, pulling it out and
showing her what I had done. Her face softened for a
second.

Then I jerked forward, taking her hands in
mine. She pulled back, almost knocking me off balance. I wasn’t
expecting her to be that strong.

“
Just get it over with,” she
said, tears pooling in her eyes. “Just rape and kill me and get it
over with.”

I let go of her hands and stood, backing up a
few steps. I looked at her and spoke in English, “I might be a very
bad man who does very bad things, but I’m no rapist.”

She looked up at me and blinked. “You speak
English?”

I laughed. “Of course I do.”

She pulled her lips over her teeth. “Let me
go. Please. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

I ran my hand over my hair and sighed. “I
can’t do that.”

“
Please,” she
begged.

“
No.”

She shook her head and blinked. Tears rolled
down her cheeks. I didn’t like crying women. Something about them
made me uncomfortable.

“
Who are you?” I asked
her.

“
Ellie.”

“
Do you have a last name,
Ellie?”

“
Yes,” she said. “Morgan.
And I’m a cop, as you know,” she panted. “Your men shot my
brother.”

“
You’re awfully
chatty.”

She glared at me again. “You’re going to find
this out anyway. Might as well speed up the process.”

I laughed. “Listen, Ellie, I didn’t ask my
men to take you. But you’re here now, and something has to be done
about it.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her trembling
hands against her face. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it.
And do it quick.”

I shook my head. “I have no reason to kill
you…yet.”

“
Then what are you going to
do with me?” she asked.

“
I’m not sure,” I said,
narrowing my eyes. I should kill her. It made sense. But killing
cops was never a good idea. Kidnapping cops wasn’t a good idea
either…