El Pecador (Saint-Sinner 2) - Page 11

Amira sat down, placed her bag next to her, crossed her legs, and leaned back into the chair. I counted down the minutes, seconds, moments until she’d look around the room.

Until she’d lock eyes with me.

It felt like fucking forever had passed, waiting there for her. Contemplating she must have felt the same way when it came to me all those years ago. Constantly waiting for me to get my shit together and make my way back to her. Where I always belonged. So many questions raced through my mind, one right after the other with no end in sight. I couldn’t believe she was here, with me.

In the States.

In Detroit.

In this fucking meeting of all places.

Life really was this cruel, conniving bastard.

I needed answers, and I wasn’t going to stop until she answered each one of them to my satisfaction. My heart was racing, my head throbbing. I was surprised I could still fucking see straight. All I wanted to do was pull out my gun, and put a bullet in between every man’s eyes for the way they were still looking at her. Consequences be damned.

Love taught you.

Love changed you.

It could bring out the best and the worst in you.

Because above all else, I knew right then and there love could fucking destroy you.

She finally peered around the room, ignoring me entirely like she didn’t know who I was. When in fact, she was the only one who ever did.

“As I was saying, I’m Amira,” she introduced herself to us again as if I didn’t already know every last thing about her. Especially how to make her scream out my name and come on my cock.

I was going to lose my shit if she didn’t acknowledge me soon.

With her eyes.

Her smile.

Something…

Anything…

Other than whatever the hell she was giving me. Which was not a goddamn thing.

“Do you know her, Damien?” Vinny instigated, feeling my heated composure from where he sat.

Immediately making her eyes lock with mine.

“You’re looking at her like you do,” he added, wanting to fuck with me again.

I cunningly grinned. “You could say that. You could also say so much more.”

Never taking her eyes off mine, she mirrored my expression. Giving it right back to me. “I'm sorry I didn't catch your name. I meet so many men, all your dicks… I mean faces blur together.” She maliciously smiled, proud as fuck of herself. Thinking she put me in my place.

I spoke with conviction, “Well then, I’ll make sure to show you my cock again, just so we’re clear on who you belong to.”

“I belong to no one,” she sternly countered.

Making me grit out, “You belong to me.”

She chuckled, breaking our connection to look at them. When in reality she was trying to shove away the sexual tension and the animosity I knew she still had for me. “Gentlemen, please excuse this man who obviously must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“You’re the only one who’s mistaken, but don’t you worry. I have the rest of our lives to remind you of who you truly are, Muñeca.”

She glared at me, instantly blinking it away. It wasn’t from what I said, it was from what I called her.

Her demeanor quickly changed from luscious vixen to cutthroat business woman when she announced, “I’m not here to fulfill this man’s boyish fantasies. I’m here to talk business, so let’s get down to it. My cocaine is produced for three thousand a kilo, and it can be sold for up to forty thousand on the street. I won’t settle for anything less than sixty thousand tonight. I’m not here to make connections, I don’t give two shits about what you can offer me in terms of business. I’ve built my empire on my own, and I plan to keep it that way. I’m here to make money. Let’s hear it, someone make me an offer I can’t fucking refuse, or you’re just wasting my precious time.”

“Sixty thousand?” Vinny uttered in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind? This is why you never let a woman into a man’s world. They’re all greedy cunts trying to take a man for everything they’re worth.”

She laughed even though there wasn’t anything fucking funny about the situation. Cocking an eyebrow, challenging him. “I’m not here for you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. I have real men to do that for me.”

I took a deep breath, willing my emotions in check, but she wasn’t making it easy on me by any means. I wanted to make this motherfucker swallow his dick for speaking to her like that.

“The only way I’ll settle for sixty thousand is if it includes your pussy and your mouth wrapped around my cock. I want to come on your pretty fucking face.”

I watched it happen with stone cold eyes as she hiked up her tight dress, immediately pulling out her Glock strapped to her inner thigh.

“AMIRA, NO!”

She didn’t falter, pulling the trigger and laying him the hell out. In two seconds flat, everyone had their guns out, including me as I forcefully kicked over the wooden table. Using it as a shield before tackling her to the ground. Covering her with my body.

“Get the fuck off me!” she seethed, thrashing around beneath me. “I don’t need you to save me, Damien! I can handle my own!”

“Handle your own? Yeah, you handled it right by trying to get us fucking killed!”

Shot after shot rang out around us, it was every man for himself. We returned fire in the direction the bullets were flying, from our position on the floor.

“You follow me and let me cover you! Do you understand? Or we’re not getting out of here alive!”

“Fuck you! Now, get off me!”

I growled, gripping onto her arm and dragging her ass up with me. She reached and got ahold of her bag as I grabbed one of the men nearby who was already dead on the floor, using his body as a shield as we hauled ass toward the door. Opening fire on anyone who stood in our way. Ready to kill without a moment’s notice. Acting on pure adrenaline and fury from what she started, pissed as fuck she was there with me of all places. Bullets sprayed throughout the entire space. Destroying everything in its wake. Casings busted through the windows, ricocheting off the metal. Shattering glass everywhere, causing shards to lodge into my skin.

An all-out war had broken out.

All because of the woman I’d fucking die for behind me.

It was only a matter of time until their guards and men showed up to see who would be the last man standing.

“Damien, let go of me!” she shouted when we were out of the warehouse.

I pulled her away much harder than I intended, unable to manage my own strength. Needing to get us the hell out of there, fully aware it wouldn’t stop here. This was only the beginning. She tried to keep up with my stride as I rushed us over to my car. The clicking sound of her heels vibrated deep within my core with each step she took. One by one it added to all the chaos erupting in my mind.

“You’re going too fast,” she pleaded, as I quickly descended upon my car. “You’re going to make me break my ankle, Damien!”

“Then maybe next time you’ll think twice about wearing fuck me heels to a meeting with men. You need to portray yourself as a drug lord and not a piece of ass they’d want to take home for the night!”

She forcefully yanked her arm away from my hold, spewing, “I am the fucking drug lord and maybe I wanted to be someone’s piece of ass to take home for the night! Don’t get it twisted, just because I don’t have a dick doesn’t mean I don’t like to fuck, Damien. You taught me that.”

The last statement triggered me to whip around and get right up in her face. “Not here! Do you understand me? Not. Fucking. Here. Not. Fucking. Now,” I gritted through a clenched jaw. Once again gripping onto her wrist, dragging her to my car. I pulled out the keys, unlocking it, and opened the passenger side door for her. “Get in!”

We only had a few seconds before men would be back on our asses, trying to take us out.

“I’m not going anywhere with you! Just leave me he

re! It’s what you’re good at! I’ll call my—”

The menacing expression on my face was enough to render her speechless. “Get in the car or I will throw your ass in. Either way you’re coming with me.”

She glared at me, knowing she wouldn’t win a physical power struggle against me. “Fine. I’m driving.” She snatched the keys out of my hand. Confidently striding her way over to the driver’s side with a certain swagger that made me want to fuck her and strangle her, all at the same time.

No one knew how to test my very thin patience like Amira.

“Do you even know how to drive a stick?”

“Yeah,” she snidely stated. “Especially in fuck me heels.”

I never thought I would see her again and this wasn’t what I pictured if I did, which had me questioning all my beliefs.

Specifically, in God.

THIRTEEN

DAMIEN

It all happened in a flash, although it still felt like it played out in slow motion for the second time that night. The adrenaline pumping wildly through my veins was the only thing keeping me going. I felt every fight or flight response known to fucking man in a short span of time.

All at once.

I jumped in the passenger’s seat after she got behind the wheel. “Amira, I’m not fucking around! Let me drive!”

She started the car and the engine purred to life, turning her head to look at me. “I own this sports car in three different colors—white, red, and black. Though it doesn’t compare to my yellow Bugatti,” she argued, right as her foot eased down on the clutch. Popping the shifter into first gear, taking off as bullets started lacing the back of the car. Shattering the rear windshield.

“Jesus Christ! Do you see what you did? What you started?”

“What I did?” she replied, surprised by my outburst. Quickly shifting into second, then third as bullets continued to ring out behind us. Fifty, sixty, seventy miles per hour, gunning it through the steel yard, kicking up dirt in our wake. “He disrespected me. That piece of shit is lucky I didn’t fuck his face with my Louboutin heel down his throat but ruining my brand-new stilettos wasn’t an option.”

I watched in astonishment as she downshifted to first, fishtailing out onto Jefferson Avenue. Nearly causing a fucking collision with a semi-truck. The only sounds that could be heard were the squealing tires and shots being fired, shattering more windows and more metal on our car. I fired back with both my guns in each of my hands, blowing out the tires of one of the cars chasing us, right when Amira did a burnout getting us the hell out of there.

“Fuck! I’m out of ammo!”

“My purse! There’s guns and ammo in my bag!”

More bullets bounced off the metal of the R8 while I reached for her bag in the backseat. Pulling out two Glocks, a Beretta, and a Ruger.

“What?” she questioned without me even saying a word. Reading my mind. “A girl needs options, Damien.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. The rush surging through my veins controlled my actions, and we were both damn lucky it did. I acted on pure impulse to protect her, still not giving a fuck about my safety. Shots fired through the air, more bullets pinged off the metal, glass shattered, all echoing in the night. Covering us as best as I could, I moved on pure fear. Staying low, I shot out the window while ducking from glass shattering around us.

“We’re almost there! I just need to lose them. How many cars?”

“Three!” I roared, furious this was happening. Choosing to take my anger out on the motherfuckers who were chasing us, instead of the woman zooming around traffic. Putting as much distance between us as she could. “Fuck this shit!” I leaned out the window, sat on the frame, and fired in all directions to take out their windshields. Hitting one of the drivers in the head. “Two,” I stated, sitting back in the car.

I reloaded, and she weaved her way in and out of traffic. Narrowing my eyes when I saw the scene in front of us unfolding. Halting all the air in my lungs, I held an intense glare on the road sign indicating it was closed, in bright neon lights, due to construction.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Muñeca, road closed,” I cautioned, bracing myself for impact with one hand on the dash and the other on the oh shit handle.

“Don’t call me that!” she fumed, downshifting at the last second, jerking the wheel to make a sharp right turn. Our car slid, missing the orange barrels. Losing one of the cars that went head first into the construction site.

The next string of bullets rang out, missing Amira’s head by inches. It wasn’t until she shouted, “Shit!” holding onto her shoulder that I truly saw nothing but fucking red. “Goddamn it!”

The engine over-revved and our car swerved as she tried to gather her composure from being hit, shifting into fourth gear. The adrenaline coursing through me was searing in my blood at that point. Endorphins sky-rocketing, bringing me to my fucking breaking point. Taking over every inch of my fucking body. It was time to make my presence known, letting our pursuers know I wasn’t fucking around. There was no doubt in my mind, taking a deep breath for the first time since the first shots rang out, allowing pure rage to take over my senses.

To take over my entire being.

I pulled up the emergency brake and forcefully reached over, pushing Amira’s foot down on the brake at the exact same time, then jerked the wheel to the right. Causing her petite frame to be tossed toward her door as our car spun out. Abruptly stopping parallel to the motherfucker’s windshield, exactly how I wanted. His eyes widened when he realized where my gun was now pointing. Directly in between his eyes. My forearm held Amira against her seat as shot after shot erupted from my gun. Shooting out of the shattered driver’s side window. Bullet casings flew past my face, one right after another only provoking the sadistic monster inside of me.

“He’s dead, Damien. You don’t have to keep shooting him.”

I shot him a few more times, enjoying the blood erupting from his dismembered, lifeless body. Being ruthless and unforgiving was what I did best, and nothing would ever change that.

“He hurt my girl, he’s—”

“I’m not your girl!” She threw the shifter into neutral, and leaned her head back against the headrest. Her chest heaved, trying to catch her breath. It was then I noticed the blood on her shoulder was only a flesh wound. The bullet nicked her. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot at, and it won’t be the last. People want me dead, it comes with the territory of being me. I’m not yours to protect or take care of. The second we get to my safe house, I want you gone. Do you understand me?”

“The fuck I am, Muñeca! You think it’s going to end here? This is just the beginning. I have to protect you from the shit storm you just started!”

“Stop fucking calling me that!” she snarled, shifting the car into first and taking off. Adjusting from gear to gear every time the engine protested from her excessive speed. She floored it to ninety going down the highway, taking the next exit going toward Woodward Avenue. “Do I look like a goddamn doll to you?”

“Amira—”

“And who the fuck protected me when you left me in Cuba, surrounded by your corruption?” she snapped, going faster and faster to get to our final destination. Driving through a secluded back alley for a few miles.

“I left you to protect you!”

“Oh, how considerate! Fuck you!”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I gritted out through a clenched jaw.

She slammed on the brakes, jolting my body forward against the dashboard from the unexpected blow.

“You left me to fend for myself, and I did,” she rasped in an eerie tone.

We locked eyes.

“You don’t need to protect me from the monsters anymore, Damien.” She got close to my face. “I am the fucking monster.”

I jerked back from the force of her words, and she took my moment of weakness as an opportunity to run away from me. Like that would stop me from going after her. She opened her door and swiftly got out, rushing up th

e driveway of what I assumed was her safe house. I chased after her only to be met with the door being slammed in my face. I simply wedged my foot and bulky frame between the threshold in the nick of time. Pissing her off even more.

Seconds later, I rammed it open, causing her to lose her footing in those fucking heels and stumble backward.

“We need to talk! The faster you speak to me, the easier it will be on both of us.”

“No! The easier it will be on you, because I don’t want to fucking talk to you. Not now. Not ever!”

“I have all night. I can wait here as long as it takes for you to start talking and stop fucking cussing at me!”

She reached for the glass vase on the foyer table. “FUCK YOU!” Chucking it at me.

I ducked and it shattered behind me. Mariposa flowers lining the floor. Reminding me of another place and time. “You want to throw things at me like a goddamn child?! Only proving my point you’re just a little girl trying to play a mobster! Control your temper, Muñeca, it’ll get you killed!”

Her eyes widened, cocking her head to the side. “Oh, motherfucker, I’ll show you a temper!” She reached for whatever was in her sight, hurling it at me with all her strength. “You selfish son of a bitch!”

My hands fisted at my sides. Traitorous waves of anger rolled off me, witnessing the woman I turned her into. Immediately feeling the guilt of her being a loose cannon just like me.

She was the female version of me.

“Enough!” I roared from deep within my chest, blocking another piece of crystal aimed at my head.

Our chests heaved in sync with one another, both of our heated emotions were running wild. It had been over a decade of solitude and years spent apart fueling the emotions pouring out of both of us. It was an endless stream of hurt, pain, and emptiness.

I could feel her love.

But mostly, I could feel her hate.

The barricade surrounding her heart was a ticking time bomb, counting down until it exploded.


Tags: M. Robinson Saint-Sinner Erotic
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