Not when my Isabella couldn’t do any of those things anymore.
But I was going to make him pay.
Jack would soon know the pain of having your heart ripped out of your chest. By the time I was done with him, he was going to beg to die.
And she was going to be my weapon of choice.
Like I’d done for the past eight weeks, I watched her cross the street. And just like all those other times, her pink strands blew in every which direction, denim covered her long legs, and a plain white t-shirt completed her look.
She was beautiful.
She was innocent.
She was Becca Martin.
And she meant something to that asshole.
Which made her the cornerstone of my plan.
I lifted my phone, pressing the button to capture the precise moment Jack stood to pull her into his embrace. Giving him a smile he definitely didn’t deserve, she hugged him back.
Pinché puto.
My fingers tightened to a white-knuckled grip around the phone still clutched in my hand. Becca tucked her hair behind her ear and aimed her smile at the server who’d appeared at the table.
Her lips moved and even though there was no possible way for me to hear what she was saying, I knew she was ordering a sparkling water with a slice of lemon and lots of ice, a cheeseburger with extra pickles, and no fries.
She’d ordered the exact same thing for the past eight weeks and she would order it again next week.
I knew everything about her… Except what she tasted like or what sounds she made when her body shuddered with pleasure.
But I didn’t need to know those particular things. Not that I didn’t want to. If the circumstances were different, I would have loved to chain her to my bed and brand my tongue with every inch of her skin. Claim all her moans. Ruin her for any man after me.
It would’ve been glorious.
But not nearly as glorious as it will be when I finally get to give her asshole brother what’s coming to him.
After the waiter scribbled down her order and headed to the next table, one of Jack’s idiot buddies said something that had Becca scowling at him. She looked ready to give him a piece of her mind when Jack placed a hand on her arm. Leaning forward, he said something into her ear.
Her mouth opened, but she immediately clamped it shut and looked up. Straight in my direction. Did she know? Could she feel my eyes on her? Through the dark tint of my window, my gaze stayed locked onto hers.
Was she feeling the same zip of excitement?
Next to her, her brother’s mouth moved a mile a minute, but she didn’t even blink. Of course this had the pendejo following her line of sight. There was no way he knew who I was, what car I drove, or that the woman he killed was my sister.
Still, I opened the glove compartment, curled my fingers around grip of my 9mm, and pulled it into my lap.
I wasn’t ready for him to die a quick death, but if he came at me today, he’d have a bullet between the eyes before he could blink.
Luckily for him—and me—his attention shifted back to Becca. He couldn’t hide his annoyance when he snapped his fingers in front of her face. I wanted to break his nose for doing that. For not respecting his sister—or any other woman—for not being a man.
Becca blinked and then blinked again; her frown aimed at the jerkoff next to her. His mouth was moving again, and he must’ve asked her something because she shook her head and shifted in her seat.
Her gaze flicked my way in a quick glance. With another shake of her head—this one a lot more subtle—she tucked a few pink strands behind her ear and turned her attention to Jack.
Deciding I’d seen enough for the day, I tugged on my safety belt and stabbed the button and the engine purred to life. I shifted the car into gear and slowly eased away from the curb.
Ten minutes later, I walked through the doors of Absinthe and headed straight to my office. My ass had barely touched the leather when the side door opened to reveal one of the downstairs servers.
Lips painted sinfully red, thick golden hair styled in a way that had you thinking she’d rolled out of bed after a sex marathon, and shiny black leather barely covering her ridiculously in-shape and surgically enhanced body.
Yeah, Connie was the type of girl that had your dick stirring within seconds of laying eyes on her.
Smiling salaciously, she sauntered into my office and closed the door behind her. She dangled a glass with a finger’s worth of amber liquid in front of her. “Thought you might need a drink,” she purred.
I cocked a brow because we both knew she didn’t come up here to bring me a drink. Swiveling my chair to face her, I leaned back. “Maybe.”
Her face lit up like she’d won the lottery.
When she reached me, she set the glass on my desk and dropped to her knees, bracing her hands on my thighs; blood-red nails bit through the material of my slacks into my skin, urging my legs further apart.
Her eager fingers trailed up until she could work my pants like a pro. Her mouth was on me not even a second later. Pushing my head back into the leather, I screwed my eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath through my nose.
But something felt off.
My hands found her hair, winding the silky tresses tightly around my fist. Connie worked me like it was her job. Still, something wasn’t right. My body was reacting the way it should when a gorgeous woman had you in her mouth. But my mind… refused to be here. To be present in the moment. Opening my eyes, I looked down. My blood turned to ice when all I saw was a mass of pink in my lap.
“¡Chingada madre!” I pushed
