Enslaved (Colombian Cartel #6) - Suzanne Steele Page 0,18

thrust roughly into her—stopping—as if to make a point. “That’s why I’m fucking you like I hate you.”

She cried out as an orgasm raged through her. Now he was holding her around the waist, and she knew if he hadn’t been, her knees would have given out. She felt all the stress that had been locked up inside her washing down the drain. She could feel his cock throb as he emptied all the hate he felt for her into her.

“Where the fuck, do you think you’re going?” His eyes pinned her in place when she tried to get out of the shower. “Dirty girl,” he sneered as he squirted body soap onto a loofah and started washing her. His hands moved with the expertise of a man who knew what he wanted. And, what he wanted was her.

Chapter Nine

Page sat her computer opening emails. The sound of dishes clanging in the background was soothing. She enjoyed living with Judy. She offered a stability Page hadn’t been able to find in the past. Judy was the one person who cared about her unconditionally and unselfishly. There were never any hidden motives with her best friend. There was no twisting of words that left her feeling misunderstood, no games, and no judgment. Judy knew all of Page’s crazy quirks, and she still loved her. Sometimes Page wished she could be stable like Judy, but regardless of how hard she tried, it just wasn’t in her. Page was a thrill-seeker by nature, and nothing would ever change that.

“Sonofabitch!” Page looked at the computer screen in disbelief. “You can’t write this shit. Talk about life being stranger than fiction.”

Judy ran over and looked over Page’s shoulder. Anticipation thrummed through her. The plot was thickening, and even she wanted a front-row seat to this drama. Regardless of how stable she was—she was still a woman, curious by nature and pulled into her friend’s newest drama. This shit was getting interesting, to say the least. If nothing else: living vicariously through Page was a blast. Whether that blast became literal or not remained to be seen. The jury was always out on Page.

“What is it, Page?” Judy felt like she was jumping out of her skin with excitement.

“Get the popcorn and sit down next to me and read it for yourself.” She looked wide-eyed at her friend.

Judy rushed over with a sense of urgency and scooted the matching desk chair up to the large area that was big enough for two computers. They were able to work at one large desk—each woman had her own space where they were able to sit across from each other—this…called for sitting next to each other. It was the perfect setup. Both women kept their areas neat and filed papers in filing cabinets religiously. Times like this called for a ‘girl huddle.’

Judy scooted in next to Page so she could read the email.

You fucking bitch! You’re no journalist. What you are is a disgrace to the writing community. I’ve seen some pretty selfish reporters who will do anything for a story, but lady, you take the fucking cake.

I’m going to make sure you pay for this. By the time I get finished with, you won’t be able to find a fixer who is willing to work with you. You’ll be forced to go overseas alone, where you’ll die like the dog you are.

Sincerely: The Real Fixer…

“Do you think Mano would write this?” Page’s face held an expression of pressing need. Had she had sex with a killer? Mano was pissed at her, but she’d never thought he wanted to see her dead. Damn! Who fucks a girl and then kills her? What kind of people had she gotten mixed up with? Questions invaded her head like an onslaught of soldiers coming in for the kill. She had seen firsthand what an attack from the enemy could bring in the jungles of Colombia. Was it on her doorstep now?

It wasn’t hard to read the panic on Page’s face. Judy vigorously shook her head no, an effort to reassure her friend. “The way it’s worded sounds like a woman. Oh. My. God. The last thing you need is a crafty, crazy, cartel bitch after you. You think Mano’s dangerous?!”

Page sat back and crossed her arms and looked at her friend in disbelief, “I just want you to know you’re making me feel a whole lot better. Your friendship has made me a better person in more ways than one. Since I’m