Fierce Defender: Book 2, Hard to Handle trilogy (2 page)

“Ohhh, God...” she said as he began to massage her swollen clit through her soaked panties. “Let’s go in the bedroom where you can do all the things to me that you will never do to anyone else.”

His grin broadened, and he swiveled her on his lap so she was facing him with her legs straddled over his. He put one hand underneath her butt and stood up, taking her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and they kissed on their way down the hallway to the bedroom.

When they got there, Zack laid her down on the bed and pulled her pants the rest of the way off of her, taking her panties with them. He tossed them on the floor and said, “I don’t know how you can go around looking like that and think that I could possibly ever want to touch anyone else.”

“Take your clothes off,” she instructed with a smile.

He did as he was told. When he was as stripped down as she was, he knelt beside the bed. Grabbing her waist with his hands, he pulled her down until his face found the center of her desire. He began gently nibbling on her engorged clit, making her squirm with ecstasy. She was ready to cum already; this man drove her crazy. He continued pleasuring her with his teeth until she wrapped her hands through his hair and let out a loud scream as she came.

Zack took a few more minutes to lick her softly and taste her orgasm before moving back up towards her head. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, the taste of herself on his lips and tongue, giving her a heady sensation. “You’re incredible,” she said.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he told her, turning his attention to her rock hard nipples. As he sucked and nibbled on them, he reached a hand down and slipped two fingers into her pussy. She arched her back and bucked her hips as he sucked her nipples and finger-fucked her.

“Oh, Zack! I can’t stand it! I need you inside me, pleeease…”

He kissed her again as he pulled his body up so that she could feel his hard cock throbbing against the mound of her pussy. He didn’t slip it in yet, however. He wasn’t finished teasing her. He reached down with his hand and lightly stroked himself against her, and then ran the head of his cock slowly and gently across her pussy lips.

“ZACK!” she screamed in absolute sexual frustration. He grinned at her and then, without warning, plunged himself into her warm, dark wetness. She reached behind him with her legs and crossed her ankles behind his back as he thrust in and out of her, his urgency building with each drive of his hips.

Eva dug her fingers into his shoulders as both of their bodies tensed and then shook as they climaxed together. Zack collapsed on top of her just for a brief moment, his weight causing her to take shallow breaths. She didn’t care though; she loved having him there, and breathing was overrated anyways. When he finally found the strength to do so, he rolled off of her, and raising his head up on an elbow, he grinned.

“And those are all of the places that I will never touch another human being,” he said, as if they were still in the middle of a conversation. “Is it okay if I become a personal trainer?”

Eva laughed. “Well, since you put it that way…”

Knowledge

Brownsville, Texas

That Same Day

Vincent and his father sat together on a bench in an alcove near the tiger cages. There was a tension in the air between them. Vincent knew the only reason the old man remained seated was because he was his son. He wouldn’t tolerate him otherwise.

“How’s Mama?” Vincent asked.

“You would know that yourself if you ever called or came to see her,” Gil said.

“I’m sorry, Papa. I’ve been really busy. You heard about the DEA busting down most of my operation?”

Besides, I talk to Mama all the time, you old bastard.

“Of course,” Gil told him. “Everyone has heard how you let a simple courier bring down a million-dollar operation.”

Vincent sighed. He would never be good enough for his father, but there was something that drove him to keep trying, in spite of knowing that.

“I didn’t allow it,” Vincent said through clenched teeth.

He didn’t want to lose his temper with his father. For one thing, he needed him. He knew that if he pissed Gil off too much, he would simply get up and walk away. For another, his mother had told him to be nice, and he hated to piss her off even more.

Blood and business were separate entities to Vincent’s father. He had insisted on Vincent using his mother’s maiden name, Heston, when he went into business for himself. That way, if he failed, maybe people wouldn’t know that he was Gil’s son. People knew anyways; Vincent had made sure of that. The old bastard was cheap and selfish. The least he could give him was the benefit of his reputation. Vincent was sure that, had it not been for the urgings of his mother, Gil wouldn’t be here today.

“My informant with the DEA botched that job. We had the rat and his sister and her rich boyfriend. If the DEA swine had been doing his job, we would have known they were coming and changed our plan. I will not forget any of their transgressions.”

Gil looked at his watch, as if he weren’t listening. Vincent was finding it harder and harder to keep his anger in check.

“What is it you want from me, Vincent?” Gil asked him.

“I need help, Papa. My business is in shambles.”

“I’m retired, Vincent. What kind of help do you expect to get from me?”

“I need money, Papa. You know the things that were taken by the DEA were not solely mine. I have a partner, and my partner is not happy. Bad things happen when my partner is not happy.”

Gil shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s the perils of doing business,” he said.

Vincent had entertained fantasies of strangling the old man with his bare hands since he was about fourteen. He used to lay awake and picture it at night, squeezing until his neck snapped in his hands. The urges came and went, but they had never been stronger than they were now.

“One of the perils of our business… as you well know… is ending up with a bullet in your head, if they don’t fucking cut it off first. I don’t think Mama would be happy to have to attend the funeral of another son, especially if your refusal to help ended in his death… again.”

Vincent hated using his brother’s death to gain leverage over his father. It had nearly killed his mother when his brother had been found with his throat slit and on their doorstep, a clear threat to his father. Luckily, his mother was a strong woman… much stronger than Gil had ever given her credit for. Vincent had loved his older brother and looked up to him, but at this point, he was desperate to use whatever he had to in order to get Gil to listen.

Gil gave his son the look of the devil and said, “Your mother forgave me for Alberto’s death. She finally accepted that it wasn’t my fault.”

Vincent smiled inwardly. He knew how to work his father. The key had always been, and would always be, his mother. He shrugged and said in a nonchalant tone, “Then perhaps she’ll forgive you for another son gone.”

******

Outside Corpus Christi, Texas

Late Saturday Afternoon

“So, Barry. Tell me what’s new on the cocaine front these days.” Sitting behind the tinted windows of his luxury SUV, a perk of working for the Drug Enforcement Administration, Grayson Alexander took a bite of the sandwich the boy had brought him from the deli. “Damn, they didn’t put any mustard on this,” he said.

“You white folk and your mustard,” Barry muttered with a roll of his eyes. Gray wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but before he could ask, Barry launched into an answer to his first question. “Man, there ain’t nothin’ going on right now ‘cept Boss Man is so pissed, everybody’s afraid of what he’s gonna do next.”

Gray already knew that. It had been deathly quiet since the takedown of the San Antonio operation. It had given Gray and the other agents in the small field office some much needed time to attend to other cases that had been neglected while they chased down Vincent Heston’s crew. He was looking for information on the “rat” that Barry had given him a heads-up about, but he was dancing around it, fishing for all that he could get out of the boy.

“What has he done so far?”

“Let’s just say I don’t think those guys that kidnapped that lady and screwed up getting back the money from her numb nuts brother are gonna live to see their day in court.”

Not giving too much information back, Gray said, “I would think they’d be keeping them in protective custody.”

Barry snorted and then laughed. “Man, protective custody is some bullshit when you’re so rich and powerful that you got guys right there on the inside. Do you have any idea who this guy is?”

“I have an idea, Barry,” he said. “Why don’t you go ahead and give me a confirmation on it?”

“I ain’t saying his name, man. I already told you that. I wouldn’t live to see my first legal drink.”

Gray hadn’t expected the boy to say Heston’s name. He almost acted as if it were akin to saying Beetlejuice three times. The guy would appear in the car next to him if he did. Gray chuckled to himself at the thought; if it were only that easy…

“It won’t go any further than this car,” Gray promised, somewhat lying. The conversation was being recorded, as usual, and Gray would more than likely be sharing it with Lewis and Gomez, his superiors.

Barry laughed again. “Man, I know you really believe that. That’s what’s so great about you, man. You still got this bleached-white outlook on things, even after all you’ve seen.”

Barry had no clue about the kinds of things Gray had seen either as a DEA agent or as a Navy Seal on tour in Afghanistan. He only wished that his view of the world was still a white-washed one. Then maybe he could sleep better at night. “You’re talking about the informant in the DEA?” Gray asked him.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Barry said. “Boss Man knows what’s happening before you do, sometimes. Except for that thing with the kidnapping and all that. He sure is pissed about that. Scary shit.”

“Okay, Barry. Without saying his name, maybe you could tell me what his plans are now that over half his operation was seized.”

“Well first, he’s gonna make sure those responsible ain’t never gonna see the light of day again. Then, he’ll rebuild the business. He’s got friends or relatives in Mexico with a lot of cash. His dad was a big time gangster years ago, I hear. Then, he’s gonna find that courier snitch and make sure he pays for his part in all of this. If it weren’t for him, Boss Man would still be sitting on top of the world.”

“Who’s his dad?” Gray asked.

Barry laughed. “Good try,” he said. “You got something soft and warm for old Barry today?”

Gray sighed. This meeting had been quite unproductive. “Listen, Barry, I got a girl that you’re gonna abso-fucking-lutely love. But you gotta give me something.”

Gray’s heart hurt when Barry spoke his next words. “Alright, man. I heard the DEA snitch’s first name a few days ago. It’s Samuel.”

Gray snapped his head in Barry’s direction. He knew the look on his face frightened the boy. It was obvious in the way the boy reached for the door handle. He felt bad, knowing the violent history Barry had with his step-daddy, but he couldn’t hide his shock or anger.

“Are you sure?” Gray asked him. “Positively, one-hundred percent sure?”

Barry’s voice shook as he said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Their conversation over, Gray drove him to where he’d be meeting the woman Gray had arranged for him that day. Before Barry got out of the car, he said, “Are you alright, man? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine, Barry. Have fun and be nice to the girl, got it?”

“Gotcha, thanks,” the boy said.

Gray sat there for a few minutes. The wheels in his head were turning a thousand miles a minute. There were only six men in the Corpus Christi Field Office. One of them was named Samuel. He and Gray had gone to the academy together. They had been roommates. Gray had been an usher at his wedding and had been invited to the christening of his first child. Sam’s wife was a sweet Texas girl, former beauty queen, groomed her entire life to be a wife and a mother. She had made a beautiful home for them in San Antonio, and now…

The whole thing was about to come crumbling down. Emotions were running rampant in Gray’s chest. Anger, betrayal, hurt, and fear. The fear was for Sam’s family. If Vincent Heston was behind all of this, and Gray was convinced that he was, none of them would be safe.

“God damn it, Sam! What the fuck were you thinking?” Gray said aloud to the empty vehicle. Then he remembered the tape. Should he play it for Lewis like he normally did after a meeting with Barry, or should he try talking to Sam first, before he went and accused him of being a snitch?

Gray hit the steering wheel with his fists. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

The Call

Brownsville, Texas

Monday Morning

Marcella reluctantly got out of bed and went to see what idiot was at the door. When the incessant knocking had begun, Vincent had told her to keep sucking his cock. He reminded her that there were three ugly thugs outside who could take care of whoever it was and promised that, when Marcella’s sweet lips had finished taking care of him, he would go see what was going on.

She had tried to concentrate. She lived to make Señor Heston a happy man. Someday she hoped that he would realize she was his
alma gemela
—his soul mate. Until then, she planned on doing anything he asked of her. When his soul was happy, hers was at peace as well.

But the infernal banging on the front door wouldn’t stop, and Vincent had finally relented and told her to go see what they wanted. He said that he’d be right out, and if it wasn’t a life or death situation, he was going to shoot whichever one of his ugly thugs had allowed the person through. He had recruited them all from Mexico, and what they lacked in brains, they had made up for in brawn. But clearly, Vincent was rapidly beginning to re-think his choice.

In Vincent’s old house, they couldn’t hear any noise while in the master bedroom. This hovel that they had been forced to take refuge in, however, was a different story, Marcella thought as she put on her robe and made her way down the hall. She’d been shocked when she’d first seen the new house. It sat at the end of a tiny little street in the worst part of town and was surrounded by dead lawn and a cyclone fence. The paint was peeling in places, and the rest of the exterior had been tagged by various street gangs. It only had two bedrooms and one bathroom, and it smelled like maybe it had served as a crack house at some time in the recent past. The shag carpeting, which had probably been laid out about the same time her last
abuela
was born, had turned from an ugly burnt orange to a dirty dark brown. Marcella didn’t even want to get herself started on the kitchen. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable here. She had lived in many worse places before Señor Heston had rescued her. But her boss and lover deserved so much better.