Spinoff Series Sneak Peek
Ward (Alma Negra Mexican Mafia, #1)
Vienna Gomez
“HE’S VICIOUS, MI diablita,” Diego grumbles, irritation seeping into his tone as he leans back in the leather chair that used to belong to my father. “Go sit your skinny ass back in the car where it’s safe.”
I gape at him with a snarled lip. “Skinny? Have you looked at me lately?”
His lazy stare skims over my body, as I’m perched on the edge of the desk, lingering at my larger-than-normal breasts. “You got fat tits. That’s hot.” Then his light brown eyes dart to mine. “Of course you’d take issue with that word. Skinny. Vicious, however, doesn’t even make you flinch. You have a fetish for villains. Shall I murder him as soon as he walks in?” A possessive growl rumbles from him. “I’m the only villain you’re allowed to want.”
I toss him a wicked grin. “You’re my favorite villain,” I say. “And don’t kill this baddie. We need him. He’s promised to buy a shit-ton of coke from us.”
“While this is true, it isn’t necessary for my pregnant wife to be a part of this deal.” His nostrils flare and he absently pats at his jacket pocket. When he finds the foil package of gum instead of his cigar, he curses. “The fucking things I do for you, woman.”
I beam at him. When he read smoking around a pregnant woman was bad for the baby during my first pregnancy, he quit lighting up around me. Now that we’re halfway along with this pregnancy, he’s vowed to do the same. He still bears the same pissed-off glare whenever he finds gum in place of his beloved cigars, though.
I slide my heeled foot along his thigh. “You love me,” I tell him. The pointy part of my stiletto pokes at his beautiful cock through his slacks. Wakes that boy right up.
He grabs my ankle almost painfully. “More than fucking anything.”
“And you love our son.”
His eyes light up at the mention of a son. We don’t know for sure, but Tatiana says the heartbeat belongs to a boy, or so she thinks. My gut tells me it’s another girl but I don’t dare torture my poor husband any more on that sore subject.
Reaching forward, he grabs my hips and pulls me into his lap, so that I straddle him. His large palms roam over my ass. When he buries his nose in my cleavage, which is exposed in the low-cut black dress, I clutch his hair and tilt my head back. Hot breath tickles me as he sucks and nibbles the flesh. Being pregnant, my hormones are out of control. I can’t seem to get enough of him. At least several times a day, I’m all over him begging for sex.
Well, I don’t have to beg too hard.
“Fuck me, mi motherfucker,” I demand, my fingers desperately tugging at his tie.
His teeth sink into my breast, causing me to cry out. I’m three seconds from pulling his cock out of his slacks when someone clears their throat from behind me.
Diego and I both jolt in surprise. He lifts me quickly before depositing me on the desk. Then, he stands and regards our guest. I take Diego’s place in his chair so I no longer have my back to them.
“Señor Celestino,” Jorge says in introduction before he steps outside the office, closing the door behind him.
I drag my gaze to our visitor. Our future business partner. The first thing I notice is he’s a giant. Tall. Like freakishly tall. And, my God, is he stacked. His muscles are bulging so much that it’s as if his expensive suit is painted on him.
“Diego Gomez,” my husband greets in a cool, calm tone. All playfulness from earlier is gone. “Pleased to meet you Señor Celestino.”
The man’s surly gesture makes him appear standoffish. “Call me Tomás,” he says, a low rumble in his throat. Diego growls all the time. Possessive and sexy. Tomás’s growl, however, is feral and kind of scary. I shiver and pull open the side drawer where Diego’s Glock sits. I feel safer when I can see it.
“Tomás,” Diego says, his voice warming. “I see that you’re interested in buying eighty percent of our US export? Eso es una gran cantidad de cocaína, mi amigo.”
He’s curious about why Tomás wants to buy so much. My Spanish is getting better, although most of what I’ve learned are the naughty words Diego whispers to me when he’s seducing me.
Tomás grunts and crosses his arms over his massive chest. His gaze travels to the window. Black ink from a tattoo crawls up the side of his neck toward his ear. Could be feathers or fire, I can’t be sure. He snaps his head back toward us and locks eyes with me.
Dark, almost black, soulless eyes.
Alma Negra.
Mexican mafia.
Diego gave me the run down on this Tomás Celestino guy. The Celestinos—four dangerous brothers—are the leaders of one of the most vicious West Coast organized crime groups. According to Diego, they’re not refined like the Italians—they sure as hell dress like them though—or brilliant masterminds like the Russians.
This mafia is ruthless.
Brutal.
Rich thugs.
Killers through and through.
But they survive like cockroaches. They infest and overpower everything they want to be involved in. Sex trafficking. Drugs. Prison control. Government corruption.
They are powerful and loaded.
Perfect customers for us to do business with.
“I knew Heath,” Tomás bites out, his tone icy.
I tense and pin him with a fiery glare. “Super.”
One corner of his lips twitch but then his gaze is back on Diego. “You know my offer. The terms are fair, Gomez. I didn’t drive all the way from LA to San Diego to negotiate. I came here to make a fucking deal.”
“And what insurance do we have that you don’t fuck us over?” Diego asks, leaning his sexy hip against the desk. His butt is bitable in his charcoal grey slacks. I think he wears this particular pair of pants to fuck with my hormones.
“If I wanted to fuck you over,” Tomás snarls, “your mujer would be bent over this desk letting me put babies inside her while you watched.”
Diego doesn’t stiffen or grumble or do anything to indicate he’s intimidated by Tomás. Meanwhile, I can’t help the shiver of fear that ripples through me. When Diego laughs, loud and boisterous, I relax. He looks back at me and winks. “Daddy Diego likes a ballsy asshole. Don’t I, mi diablita?”
I snort because he’s referring to me. “You do, mi motherfucker.”
Tomás stares at me and his eyebrow twitches slightly. Almost as if the terrifying prick finds us amusing. But something tells me it takes a lot to make this dude smile. I don’t have the patience nor the time for that.
“You fuck us over, you die,” I bite out as I reach past the Glock for a package of Skittles. I rip it open and pop a green one in my mouth before pinning him with a hard glare. “You fuck us over, we kill every single one of your brothers. Even the youngest one. The one with the gentle eyes and the soft smile. What’s his name?” I taunt, chomping on my juicy candy. “Oh, that’s right. Zacarías. I think he’s about my age. We’d probably be fast friends, ol’ Zac and I. I bet he falls for girls easily. Especially pretty ones. Heart on his sleeve type of guy—”
“Enough!” Tomás roars, his chest heaving. His fists are at his sides, and I swear he’s seconds from attacking me.
Nerve. Struck.
I beam at him. “Now that I’ve made my point, I trust you won’t fuck with us.” I pull a yellow Skittle out of the bag and roll it across the desk toward Diego. I fucking hate the yellow ones.
He picks it up and tosses it in his mouth. “Since we have the pleasantries out of the way, I suppose we can move forward and do business.”
Tomás’s nostrils flare as he glares at me.
Diego laughs and struts over to our new client. He slaps a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, hermano, she scares the fuck out of me too.”
I shrug and eat another beloved green candy. “Nobody fucks with the queen.”
Tomás tears his furious stare from me to regard Diego. “Keep your queen of the fucking crazy ass cartel in Colombia, and we have ourselves a deal.”
Diego laughs again. God, I love the sound of his boyish laugh. Warms every part of me from the inside out. “You and I both know, Señor Celestino,” he says as he offers Tomás a hand. “Mi diablita does whatever the fuck she wants. But I will sell you la cocaína. And you will keep your word.”
Tomás grunts but firmly shakes his hand. Everything in the man’s empty black eyes says he’s not one to go back on his word. These delicious Hispanic men and their integrity…they don’t break their promises.
But Momma Gomez likes insurance.
I reach into the drawer and reluctantly trade my Skittles for my knife. Tomás’s eyes are on my every move. If he wanted to kill me, he could. Men like him are catastrophic. Forces of fucking nature. Men like him don’t move out of fear because they don’t see me as a threat.
They haven’t met Queen V.
“Nothing says ‘I do’ like a little blood contract,” I tell him sweetly as I stand and walk over to him. “Give me your arm.”
His jaw clenches but he remains motionless. After the longest stare down, he shrugs out of his black blazer and begins unbuttoning his shirt at the wrist. Once he rolls up the sleeve to reveal a veiny tattooed forearm, he offers me his arm.
“Good boy.” I grin at him before grabbing his wrist. Carefully, I carve the letters: D. V. G. Blood runs from the slices and drips onto the concrete office floor.
The murderous glare he gives me is scary as hell, but I ignore it.
“Nice doing business with you, Mr. Celestino,” I chirp before sitting back down at the desk.
His nostrils flare and he gives a slight shake of his head. “You’re a crazy bitch, you know that?”
“Of course I already know this. It’s you who’s just finding out.” I pluck the Skittles bag out and start fishing for another green one. “And it’ll do you good to remember that too.”
He narrows his creepy-as-fuck eyes at me and cracks his neck. Disregarding the blood, he fastens the button of his shirt and then slides his suit jacket back on. I’m awarded one more of his threatening glares before he stalks out of the office without another word.
“Such a bad girl,” Diego chides, flashing me a wicked grin.
I smile at him while rubbing my swollen belly. “I’m a villain. It’s what I do.”
Tomás Celestino and the Alma Negra Mexican Mafia series are coming soon!