The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)

Ryker tightened his grip on my arm until his fingernails bit into the bruises and scratches covering my skin. “Hattie, I can’t protect you unless I know everything.”

I pried my eyes open, and my lips contorted with disgust. “Protect me? You’re not protecting me. Every time you touch me, you rip me into a thousand pieces that I can never put back together. I’m broken. You broke me.” Panic-stricken sobs tumbled from my mouth. My ears rang with the insanity, pulsing like poison through my veins.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then, why don’t you share what you think you know? Help me to understand,” I begged incoherently as I pounded my fists repeatedly against his unyielding chest.

He captured my hands and returned them to my sides. “The less you know, the better,” he said as he stroked his thumbs back and forth over the inside of my wrists.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. If I understand what’s going on, I won’t try to run again. I’ll do whatever you ask. Trust me.”

“Hattie.” His powerful body crowded me, maneuvering me backward until my tailbone pressed into the car. “Don’t try to play me. You won’t win.” He shook his head. “Your life would be so much easier if you stopped fighting me. Haven’t you learned anything yet?” he added tenderly.

Tenderness from him was dangerous. I’d seen it over and over. Any time he’d shown me mercy, I tumbled into a deeper, darker hole. Suffocating under his gaze, I wrenched my hand between our bodies and drew several sticky, damp breaths into my heaving lungs. Each molecule of air glued the pieces of my fragmented willpower back together. “Apparently not,” I finally said when the ringing in my ears muted.

“Nothing is the way it seems. There are layers upon layers of things going on here. This isn’t just about you. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.” The words fell from his mouth—low, malicious, and tainted with muddy secrets.

Already teetering on the knife-edge of control, his words shoved me over the cliff and into a never-ending abyss. Fury raged through me…hot, wild, and unhinged. A red fog tainted my vision. I wanted to kill Ryker, piece-by-piece, limb-by-limb, until he embodied the physical manifestation of my ragged mental state. I didn’t care if I ever breathed another breath as long as I experienced the satisfaction of wounding him.

Revenge burned through my veins. I thought I’d spontaneously combust at any second. In one fluid movement, I lifted my knee and rammed it into his groin as my hand propelled toward his face, aiming for his eye. I missed his eye, but his knees buckled when I connected with his groin.

I didn’t waste one second to study the aftermath of my burst of sudden psychosis. I darted into the jungle, trudging through green undergrowth twisting up my bare legs with every step. I wasn’t stupid. He’d catch me and punish me, or worse, but I refused to become his docile pet until he discarded me however he or Ignacio deemed appropriate. Fuck that. Fuck him and his fucking layers.

With every hard-fought step, stifling, humid heat coated my skin like a wet shroud. Right then, I promised if I ever made it out of this godforsaken jungle alive, I’d never step foot out of America again. Dirt smeared my legs, and green streaks stained my clothes, but that was the least of my worries.

Ryker’s footsteps echoed behind me, strong and steady, closing the distance between us with every stride. Branches snapped under my feet, and hundreds of insect legs crawled over my skin, but I didn’t give up. I’d force him to struggle for every inch he gained in our battle of wills, until bone weary exhaustion haunted both of us.

Not long had passed and he was less than an arm’s length away. I lunged forward putting all my strength into a singular crowning push, but he moved too quickly. Within seconds, his unyielding arms shackled my waist like thick bands of iron. The front of his body cradled my back in a simulated lover’s embrace, injecting a feverous bolt of lust directly into my heart. Damn him. Damn me. Damn this godforsaken bug infested jungle. Damn my life.

He pressed his mouth against my ear and shivers cascaded down my damp skin. “Are you done now? How many times are we going to play this game of hide and seek?”

“Until I win,” I said through panting breaths, heat already spiraling down my body straight to the apex of my thighs.

He yanked my body even closer to him and his mouth curled into what I imagined would resemble a wickedly sensual smile to the casual observer. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it on the side of my face. “Hattie, baby, it’s not going to happen. Wave the white flag and save both of us some time.” His voice was smoky and dark, and it both tempted and repelled me.

Seething at him and myself, I opened my mouth and closed it at least two times, before I responded. “I guess we’re destined to keep playing this game, because I won’t give in until I’m dead or free.” The strength of my words stiffened my spine, and I arched away from him.

“You don’t mean that,” came his velvety response as he wrenched my hips against his pelvis again. His hips rolled against mine in a scandalously erotic movement, and I whimpered, loving and hating the heat percolating between my legs from nothing more than a roll of his hips and the sound of his voice.

“No. Please don’t.” My control fractured second by second, breath by breath, with every brush of his hands and flex of his hips. “Let me go,” I screamed. My fingers clawed at his arms and my hair whipped around my face as I frantically shook my head from side to side. I needed to get away from him before I did something really stupid like beg him to touch me again. I was one flex of his hips away from becoming his plaything. “You make me sick.” I couldn’t show him how much he affected me. The repercussions were unthinkable.

“Liar.” In one unexpected movement, he pushed my shorts and panties down my legs and shoved me to my knees. Dirt dug into my scabbed over knees. I tried to stand up or crawl forward, but it was pointless. Ryker had one arm around my waist, imprisoning me.

“This is my game, Hattie, and until I let you go, I own you.” His hand burrowed under my shirt and dove under the constraints of my suddenly too tight bra. I arched my back and pressed against the erection already straining against his zipper.

“You’ve ruined my life,” I screamed as lust flowed like lava through my body.

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