CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Samira

After Santana and I stood toe to toe with Papa, everything settled down in the Alvarez household. Papa still didn’t want to hear anything about me not going to Dartmouth though. I was determined I wasn’t going. It was a bridge I’d cross when the time came.

“What are you thinking about?” Santana asked, pulling me closer to him in bed. A thick blanket of stars had fallen over the sky and I was exactly where I wanted to be. I slid my ass back until it connected with his cock and in seconds it thickened against me.

“How to get out of going to school this fall,” I admitted.

“Go for a semester then if you don’t like it, leave. That way you’re giving it a shot and Pop won’t bitch about it.” Santana tucked the softest kisses between his words and pressed them to my neck. Each one made my heart thump harder.

I’d been practically living in his apartment because being away from him knocked me off kilter. I was much more myself when I was near him because our souls spoke the same language. I pushed my fingers through his silky hair and hooked a leg around his waist.

“You make it sound so easy, Santana but how the fuck am I supposed to be away from you?” I mapped out every fleck of ebony in his dark brown eyes.

“Like I’d ever let you be away from me.” He laughed at the notion and tipped my head back, exposing my throat. He handled me like he had no doubt in his mind that I belonged to him. He handled me like I’d never belong to anyone else.

Scarlet red desire bloomed deep in my core. Its petals pressed against my insides until I squirmed with need. “Is my princess hungry?” Santana asked. His deep voice sent waves of yearning crashing against me. I was so wet that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I would leave puddles behind me.

“So hungry, Daddy.” I moaned while he bit my skin sending spikes of delicious pain needling into my neck. My knuckles pressed into his muscled shoulders as we maneuvered so that I was on my back and he was between my legs.

The way he made my thighs tremble should have been illegal. It was decadent enough to be a sin.

My pussy ached when he pressed his thick cock against me. There was no barrier between us. Nothing separated his rigid dick from my wetness and I wanted him inside of me. Santana liked to tease though.

While his fingers spread me open and his tongue ran circles around my stiff nipples, the crown of his cock dipped inside of my opening. That was it. Just the tip. It was the most beautiful torture.

I’d never been so pissed off and turned on at the same time. Then he said, “Tell me what you’re hungry for, Samira.” It was almost too fucking much. How was I supposed to speak and absorb sensations at the same time?

My eyes fluttered shut and I squeezed him between my thighs. “You. I need your dick, Daddy.” My walls clenched when he bucked against me. He slid in just enough to stretch me and draw an erotic moan from my mouth. “Please, Santana…fuck me.” My hips rose to meet him but he pulled back. I saw a smirk bend his lips up just a bit.

“You know I love when you beg. I can’t hold out though, that’s my problem.” In the next breath, his cock was deep inside of me. I drew my knees up as far as they would go until they rested on his shoulders.

Colors saturated the backs of my eyelids as Santana thrust in and out until tingles sank into every joint beneath my skin. “Shit,” I groaned. My spine arched to the heavens granting him deeper access into spaces I didn’t know I had.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, Sammie.” His fingers stroked my clit and the shivers started to roll in. Heat rose from the base of my spine and swallowed me whole until an orgasm gripped me so hard drips of energy leaked from me like sticky syrup.

I clenched every muscle in my body and turned into a stiff knot. Santana’s strokes turned jerky and his cock swelled. He shot silky warm ropes inside of me and I moaned at the sensation.

“Goddamn, Sammie.” Santana kissed my forehead then moved down to my lips while he throbbed inside of me.

“Goddamn right back at you.” My laugh was dry and hoarse from screaming for both God and Santana simultaneously.

He hadn’t been lying beside me for more than five minutes when his phone rang the special kind of way it did when Papa called. I let out an exaggerated groan and kicked my feet beneath the sheet.

I wanted my nights with Santana all to myself but that was never a reality and Papa still didn’t want me to join in on the real family business. It was starting to piss me off. Weeks had gone by since I’d seen the back rooms of Papa’s restaurant.

Whenever Santana came back from working with Papa, I sat like a child with wide eyes while he told me what went on in the meetings with the men pushing Papa’s products. He always kept me well informed.

I had ideas about the guys he told me were giving Papa trouble on the east side too. Even though I knew Santana loved me more than anything, I still got butterflies at the thought of letting him know I had real ideas concerning the family business. He’d never laugh me off or anything like that but my own apprehensions had the tendency to gnaw until my throat was too thick to speak.

“What’s wrong, Sammie?” Santana pulled a simple white shirt over his head and looked like a fucking work of art. Thick slices of muscle pushed against the clean cotton and I lost my words and thoughts in a haze of awe.

I blinked a few times and everything clicked back into motion. “Oh,” I said rubbing my throat, feeling the warmth start to spread there. “Nothing. I was just thinking that Papa probably wanted to talk to you about the guys on the east side again.” I pulled the warm sheet around my body, covering my bare breasts even though Santana’s eyes tore through the sheet and made me smolder.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what he wants to talk about. You’re psychic, Princess.” He leaned over and dropped a kiss on the top of my head. My fingers involuntarily curled around his wrist. I wanted him to stay or I wanted to go with him. Either way, I wanted to be next to Santana.

“They’re still restless and talking about needing more product, aren’t they?” I asked. It had been the same story for weeks. Santana said that Papa didn’t want to give in to their demands for more product because he wasn’t convinced they could push it.

“Pretty much. I’m trying to get Pop’s stubborn ass to at least meet them halfway. There has to be some kind of compromise taken.”

I nibbled on the side of my lip for a moment before saying, “What if Papa gave them a trial run at a steep cost? He gives them the extra drugs and they have to move it and deliver the money or else they owe double and if they can’t pay then one of them has to go.”

After my words hit the air they turned to mist that blanketed the room in silence. Santana looked at me in that devastating way and I tried, subconsciously, to hide from his penetrating gaze.

“One of them has to go?” His thick brow lifted in question.

“Yeah,” I said, raising a shoulder. My confidence was falling away like scraps leaving me exposed. Nerves jittered across my shoulders and down my arms like marching ants.

“As in…” he let his words fall off a cliff leaving me no choice but to put my thoughts into plain language.

“One of them has to die. Preferably the one who suggested they take on more product.” I drew my knees closer to my chest and pushed out a breath hoping that some kind of confidence would fill my lungs and pour out when I exhaled. “I get that Papa has a business to run and he can’t look like a kind-hearted boss giving people chances to fuck up his money and his reputation.

I feel like the guy who suggested they take on more work should be the one literally putting his life on the line to make sure they sell that work.” By the time I was done talking, Santana’s face had bloomed into a full grin. It was such a wicked grin too. It made my insides spark and crackle.

“Listen to you…” With a single yank, he pulled me close to him with his huge hand wrapped around my ankle. Once I was close enough to him with my legs draped over the side of the bed, he slid his fingers around the back of my neck and held me there. I felt every ounce of nervousness evaporate while he stared into my eyes. “I love the way your mind works.” That simple sentence made me feel like I belonged in the world. Like I wasn’t some closeted sicko with a mind too warped to live out loud.

“Really?” I swallowed back and I felt the tightness in my throat ease up. “I thought you were going to say it was too extreme or something,” I confessed.

“Nah, not too extreme, Sammie. These motherfuckers need to have someone show them that we don’t operate like a regular fucking company with a suggestion box. They can’t whine like bitches when they’re suggestion isn’t used and if they make a suggestion, they better stand by it with their lives. I think Pop needs to hear your idea. He’d like it. Get dressed.”

“Wait…what?” The cogs in my head screeched to a stop. “Get dressed?” Suddenly words didn’t make sense anymore let alone basic instruction.

“Yes. Get dressed, you’re coming and you’re gonna tell Pop what you told me. All that fire and passion you had…even though it was uncertain at first…needs to be heard.” Santana tossed me a dress and I looked at it like I’d never seen such a thing before.

“Santana, Pop is going to fucking kill you if you bring me to the restaurant to discuss business.”

“Why?” He frowned. “It’s the family business. You’re family. You’re his daughter. He should be proud.”

See, I was fine sharing ideas with Santana but sharing them with Papa was totally different. Even though we were on great terms now, he was still my father and because of that, I held a certain amount of fear in my heart when it came to him. Santana wasn’t letting me stay cemented to my spot though. He tugged me to my feet and I pouted in protest.

“Dress on. Shoes on. Let’s. Go.” That was the last thing he said before he stalked out of the room. Every muscle in his back moved fluidly. Even watching him walk away turned me on.

Begrudgingly, I put my dress on, raked my fingers through my tangled butterscotch tresses and went to Santana’s car. He smiled when I slid into the passenger seat. His perfect straight teeth lit up the small dark space like the flecks of light twinkling in the night sky.

Riding with him made me feel free. True, I was going to pose an idea to my father who just so happened to be the kingpin of Rhode Island but none of that mattered when Santana’s rough hand gripped my thigh. I loved the contrast of his thick heavy fingers against my smooth leg.

I loved it so much I hiked my dress up a few inches so he could slide up higher. His ebony eyes blazed when he came to a red light. “Sammie, stop playing with fire. I don’t have enough time to fuck you again before we get to the restaurant. You keep pulling your dress up like that thought and I promise you I will pull over and eat your pussy.” The way his tongue moved across his lips made me press my thighs together in hopes of stimulating my clit from pressure and imagination.

“Maybe if you ate my pussy it would help me relax before we go in here to see Papa,” I mused, crossing my legs.

“It would.” He pulled into Papa’s parking lot and ran a hand over his chiseled chin. That simple move twisted my insides into a bow as if my entire body was a present for Santana to unwrap. “Out. You’re trouble,” he chuckled.

Nerves took over the moment I heard the concrete scraping, granting us entrance to the den of the devil himself. Papa had two sides. One was the warm, stern father I’d always known but this new dark side was more my speed. It was terrifying but I wanted to know more about that side.

So when I walked into his dark, plush office cloaked in rich textures and colors, I felt the need to tip my chin up and not look at my feet. I wanted him to know I wasn’t there as a tourist.

His dark brows crashed together when he saw me standing beside Santana. Anger overtook confusion as his face morphed into a giant, dark question mark. “Before you start,” Santana said, holding his hand out, “Sammie’s here on business.”

“What business could she possibly have here, right now, Santana?” He barked.

Don’t flinch, Samira.

Don’t fucking flinch.

I locked eyes with Papa and didn’t budge. You couldn’t show fear in front of a man like him. He could smell it.

“I’ve been talking to her about the crybaby assholes on the east side and she came up with a nice compromise. Thought you’d like to hear it.” I envied his cool demeanor. He was like steel. He was unassuming until you ran into him the wrong way. He’d break your teeth just as easy.

“The east side guys? Santana, it’s one thing for you to be in a relationship with Sam but you’re bringing her in on business? Mijo…what the fuck?”

“Papa, I’m not a little kid anymore and you of all people should expect that I’d want to know about all of this.” My hand swung out in a wild gesture to his office. “Shit like this is in my blood evidently. Are you really shocked? Now, can you please hear me out?”

“Samira, I don’t want to hear about friendship pacts and…”

“I’m not here to talk about fucking friendship pacts, Papa. Don’t patronize me. You’re being such a condescending, hypocritical asshole right now.” The words rolled off my tongue at light speed and lodged directly between Papa’s brows. His mouth hung open in shock.

Good.

I liked the spiky thrill that raced through my thumping veins when I noticed I’d actually shut my father up. I glanced to the side, seeking out Santana but he’d moved to the back of the office, letting me stand on my own. In a way, I felt naked. I couldn’t just spew those words at Papa and then fall silent though.

“You won’t even hear me out. You’re treating me like I’m an outsider. You’re treating me like just because I’m your princess, I can’t possibly be involved in the grimy aspects of the family business, yet all the grimy gritty aspects were fine for Mama to be involved in.” Anyone could have heard a pin drop in that office.

Papa steepled his long fingers and peered at me over them. His jaw ticked a million miles a minute, a telling sign of the agitation bubbling beneath his calm surface.

“Alina was cut out for this. You’ve never struggled a day in your life. You know nothing about having to risk everything.” He let out a puff of air through his flared nostrils and said, “The floor is yours. If I’m not impressed by what you have to say then I don’t expect to hear your voice in this office again. Are we understood?” His green eyes pierced into mine like emerald tipped drills but I didn’t falter. I gave him a short nod and straightened my spine.

“I think you should let the guys on the east side test out their theory that they can handle more product. There will be stipulations though. If they can’t deliver then they owe double and if they can’t pay up then one of them pays with their life.” My words barely made it out because my throat had grown so tight.

“You think I should kill one of my men because they took on a job too big for themselves?” Papa asked.

“Yes,” I nodded. I tried to find all the words I’d used when I explained myself to Santana but they were hiding. Sandy hair fell around my shoulders and I mindlessly toyed with the ends. I needed something to do with my fingers.

Silence crept in again.

A knock on the office door sent the silence splintering off into a million directions. Papa gave me a lingering glance before opening it to let in Dom. I rolled my eyes and didn’t try to hide it.

Santana’s nostrils flared when Dom pulled me in for a hug and lingered like a creep. “Sam, looking gorgeous as usual. You better get out the guns, Chris. Sam is going to bring out every predator in a fifty-mile radius.” His eyes were hungry and oily on my skin. Even after he released me from that unwanted hug, I could still feel his fingerprints clinging to me like film. Ugh.

“Dom, I’m asking you to stop hugging Sam that way. It’s making me uncomfortable. It’s making her uncomfortable too,” Papa said, turning a steely gaze to his friend. Something flashed in Dom’s eyes but he covered it up quickly with a phony ass laugh. It rubbed me the wrong way.

I caught Santana’s eye and he looked uncomfortable too. Dom took an exaggerated step away from me and held his hands up. “You think I’m being inappropriate with little Sam? Me, of all people, Chris?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it should be a problem whether you aren’t or you are. If I asked you to back the fuck up then you should oblige without pushing back. You wouldn’t happen to have your eye on my princess, would you?” Papa tipped his chin up and rolled his shoulders like he was prepared for battle.

“Jesus, are you serious?” Another phony chuckle fell from his lips. My eyes bounced back and forth like a ping-pong ball between the two men. Tension mounted quickly and made the air thick.

“He’s very serious.” Santana’s words were calm like still waters.

“Oh, not you too, Santana,” Dom still chuckled like he thought something was so funny. If I was a man I would have sank my fist into his jaw just to hear the sound. I hated the way he brushed everything off like it meant nothing or it was some huge fucking joke.

“Let’s take a walk, Dom,” Santana said, heading toward the door. I opened my mouth to speak but Papa held his hand up, halting me before any words left my lips. I stood in stunned silence while Santana walked with Dom outside and the office door closed with a heavy thud.

What the hell was Santana going to say to him? My ears burned to know.

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