Page 25 of Betraying Katie

The bushy mustache swished around as El Cuchillo mouthed his cigar in thought, his eyes going from his cards to Antonio, as if watching for his tells.

Antonio had played this card game enough to know it didn’t make any sense, and El Cuchillo would win regardless, so he just sat back and rearranged his cards. He’d convinced himself long ago that his boss simply made up the rules as he went along and everyone else pretended they knew what he was doing.

“Since I didn’t get my girl in this shipment, I want two from the next one.” Imelda’s smile was still small, but she looked at Antonio pointedly before looking at Hector.

“I’ll be sure to get you a good selection to choose from,” Antonio promised. He wasn’t about to thank the woman for letting him have Katie. That would put him in her debt, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Will you be able to get it up for her?” She giggled as she spoke before downing her drink and pouring herself another.

Hector’s eyebrows shot up comically, and Antonio wondered if she’d shot the Chihuahua down. Everybody called him the Chihuahua behind his back because of his constant yapping and inability to sit still, as evidenced by his tapping leg under the table.

“I imagine I’ll try,” he replied drily. He would not let this woman bait him. She was beneath him. Always had been, and the poor woman had been trying to get into his pants since he’d mistakenly let her when all this started. He’d been encouraged by her husband of all people to distract the woman, and thinking it helped his cover, he had slept with her. But she had immediately come back, and her witchy ways made him nervous. She wouldn’t settle for being a distraction. She wanted him to be part of her harem here, at her beck and call, and he wouldn’t do it.

“She gives good head,” Hector piped up, and Antonio’s head snapped to look at the man who proudly sat there with a handful of cards.

“She does?” he asked coolly.

“Yeah,” El Cuchillo piped up. “She does.”

“Did you ruin her before giving her to me?” His voice was calm, in spite of the rage welling up inside him. He would let them see that. They deserved no less.

“Nobody stuck their cock in her, if that’s what you mean. But we wouldn’t mind seeing the claiming of her.” El Cuchillo grinned around his cigar.

Antonio rolled his eyes, relief pouring through him, even though the fact they’d all had their dick in her mouth repulsed him. “I’m not showing you my dick. It might make you feel inferior,” he joked to save their lives.

“He’s right about that.” Imelda piped up, not helping any goddamned thing.

Hector and his boss continued to look at him expectantly.

“I want to make sure my gift is appreciated in the spirit it was intended.” El Cuchillo looked at Hector, who pulled a gun out and lay it down on the table in front of him. Imelda bounced in her seat with nothing short of glee.

Gauntlet thrown.

So this was the first test.

He was going to have to do something. Undoubtedly, there were more tests coming.

Tossing back his drink, he stood, glaring at them in turn as he unbuckled his belt.

He strode to where Katie was slumped on the side of the bed, having lapsed back into unconsciousness. He would have to get her dried out, and these drugs out of her system, stat.

But right now, he was going to pretend to have sex with her.

He was about to throw up, but he dropped his pants to his knees, stroking himself for show. Then he picked her up by her arms and draped her over his bed at an angle, trying to seem casual about it.

Then he bent himself over her body and started pumping, letting them see the flex of his ass as he pretended to drill Katie.

Jesus. What had he become?

He thought back to just a couple of hours before, when he’d been dreaming of sinking himself back into her wet, willing heat. Her pussy was truly magical, and the night they’d shared had changed his life, making him want something better for himself. It had made him think he could get out of this mess.

But now, tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in her neck and pretended to rape her.

He heard cheers from the men at the table, as well as a huff from Imelda before the clacking of her heels as she stomped to the door, then the door slamming as she hopefully left.

He continued for a little bit longer, the pressure of the only person who’d actually seen him having sex gone, and pretended to climax, holding his hips still against her as he whispered apologies in her ear.

Still limp, she slid to the floor when he stood and pulled up his pants. Then, without another glance at her, because he knew it would break him, he turned to the men.

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