Page 125 of Cartel Devil

“He’s been investing heavily in R&D, and his biotech companies are making huge progress. He stands to make millions if he can get that patent. The problem is he has no one inside the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office to push his paperwork through. His old contact got laid off. We don’t have the same problem. We have three people on the payroll there. I bet they’d appreciate a random bonus—tied to performance, of course.”

“Do you want us to have it just to piss him off? What’re we going to do with it?”

I’m certain Javier’s thinking of the legal ramifications that’ll come our way once Aleks discovers what we’ve done and loses his mind.

“No. We have no use for that. We submit our own patent based on his company’s application. It gets pushed through before his, then we sell it to whichever Georgian biotech will pay the most. Not only will he lose all his investments, he’ll also have to accept all that work and money went back to an Eastern Bloc country Mother Russia once terrorized. A country where the O’Rourkes have heavily invested in biotech.”

“Fucking over the Kutsenkos is certainly a better future for the Georgians than their past. They gave the world Stalin after all.”

Trust Javier to throw shade through a history fact.

“Pablo, can you and Javier begin work on the patent tonight?”

Neither looks thrilled to work through the night, but the early bird catches the worm.

“Come to my place. Madeline’s on call and staying at the hospital. We won’t disturb Florencia that way.”

“Thanks.”

With nothing left to discuss, we head out to the living room to find our women.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tre

The explosion, chase, and gunfire left me rattled—no pun intended. I’m grateful the hit-and-run, the mercenary, nor the poisoning killed me. I could even go so far as to say the threats of miscarriage were false alarms. The more shit goes wrong, the more I want Joaquin nearby.

“Daddy, I’m cold.”

We’re getting ready for bed, and I just finished getting undressed. Joaquin steps behind me and wraps his arms around me. I turn in his embrace and put my icy hands on his cheeks.

“I have some ways to warm you up. Even make you overheat, chiquita.”

Blessedly, Tío Enrique and Tía Elle’s—that one’s taking a bit more getting used to—room is at the other end of the house—mansion. Is it a demotion that she went from being like a second mom to being an aunt? Or is it even better that we’ll finally be family.

There’s no doubt Joaquin and I are getting married. It’s just a question of when he proposes and when we set the wedding date. We’ve talked about it. We don’t want any of this shit to overshadow what should be among the most momentous occasions in our lives.

He grasps my wrists and lowers my hands as he kisses me. He guides my right hand to my lower back while my left hand cups his dick. Fuck if he doesn’t have the best dick ever. Anyone who says size doesn’t matter either has a micropenis or has only fucked a micropenis.

It’s the feelings that matter.

Yeah, the feel of this dick filling me until I can’t take any more.

I’ve had a dirty mind since forever. But the things I think about doing with Joaquin would make me a million dollars in the porn industry. We’ve had sex in front of mirrors; I know we’re good.

“Like what you feel, chica?”

“Mhmm.”

I tighten my hold as I rub him over his boxer briefs. I’m naked; he’s not. I find that super-hot. Even if he’s only in his boxer briefs, the contrast does something to me.

I gaze at his sculpted body, and I know I’m getting wetter. He’s genetically blessed with good health and good looks. Sure, he knows he’s hot, but his body is the product of hard work. Not the kind that comes from wanting to impress others or even a personal sense of satisfaction. It’s the result of hours a day of conditioning. He needs the strength these muscles produce to keep him alive.

I hate thinking about the number of times he’s had to run or fight. He has the scars to prove it’s been far too many. I hate knowing I could lose him any time he leaves the house. But I love him too much to walk away. It’s not about the baby. We’d figure out how to co-parent separately if we didn’t love each other.

“We didn’t have dessert tonight. I’m still hungry. I think a little midnight feast on peaches and cream will tide me over till morning.”

When he fucks you again after a night of marathon sex.