"But the Don . . . he's so old. It's just gross. Why would my father agree to that? I don't understand."

"You know it's customary for daughters to be promised in marriage. Your papa must be getting something good out of it."

My head spun. A boy had never properly kissed me, and now I was to be married off to some old b.a.s.t.a.r.d who drank too much and smelled of cigars. No wonder he always undressed me with his eyes when he came to see my father. I tried to hide, but he still made a point of finding me. What I saw burning in his eyes filled me with disgust. I wore my ugliest dresses and didn't brush my hair when I heard he was coming, all in an attempt to stop him from devouring me with his gaze. And the lewd grin-if I were stronger, I'd smack it off his skinny face.

"You said I had to lose my virginity. Why? Will that help me?"

Esme squeezed my hand. "The Don only wants you if you are a virgin. It's his thing-he likes to pop girl's cherries and pays well for it." She shrugged. "At least, that's what I heard. He paid Santana's father a lot of money for one night with her."

"But you said Dom Pedro wants to marry me? Oh G.o.d, why? If he can pay for a girl, why does he want me?" Just the thought of his bony fingers touching me made me want to throw up. "I can't do it, Esme. I'd rather die."

"Well, if what I heard is true, he won't want you if you aren't a virgin. So get laid, and make sure the news gets to the Don. Maybe he'll cancel the deal with your papa."

I rubbed my chest with my fist. My heart squeezed inside me, making it difficult to breathe.

How could this be possible? Mama would never allow it. But then all the screaming from their bedroom started making sense to me. And why Papa had become even more brutal in his attacks on her. She thought I didn't know, but I saw the bruises on her arms and legs. Papa was smart-he never touched her face.

"What? You want me to screw some random guy just to lose my virginity?"

"Don't be so dramatic. It's only s.e.x."

I poked a finger in her chest. "For you maybe. But I don't want s.e.x with anyone else . . . only Cobra. I won't marry the Don. I'll kill myself first."

I was so screwed, if what Esme said was true. Yet I wasn't getting my cherry popped by anyone else than Cobra. I'd made that decision years ago, and n.o.body was changing my mind on that.

"You can't always have everything you want. We have no idea when Cobra will come here again. I can set it up with one of the boys. He can come to my house. And I'll tell him to brag about it to all his friends. That way the Don is sure to hear about it too."

I baulked. "No. You're crazy. That's like signing the guy's death warrant."

"True. The Don will have his p.r.i.c.k cut off. If your papa doesn't kill him first. s.h.i.t, we have a problem."

"Besides, I told you, there is only one guy for me even if he isn't around."

"Cobra. My G.o.d, that will make your father go crazy. He hates gringos. And even more if Cobra ruins this deal."

"You've got to help me. Otherwise I seriously will kill myself. I could never marry a man I despised. Death would be so much better than living a life like that."

"Stop talking about dying. You're making me nervous. I'll ask Christina to find out from Miguel when the Scorpio Stinger bikers are coming here again. Hopefully Miguel knows or can find out if Cobra will be coming too and if it's in the next three months. It has to be before your birthday, otherwise it's too late."

I shuddered. Drawing my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my forehead on my knees. "What if Cobra never comes again? It's been more than a year and I heard him tell his friend that he hated the place. What if I don't ever see him again?"

"There you go, being dramatic again. Don't panic until we know for sure. I have ways of finding out. If not from Miguel, I know someone else who could maybe tell me. Leave it to me, okay? We'll find a way. I promise."

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I'd thought there was something special between us. I'd sensed it from the first day. But what if I was wrong? What if it was only me who felt that way about him?

Why hadn't he come back in over a year?

"Why are you looking so sad? Don't you trust me to help you?"

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn't even try to stop them. "What if he's fallen for a girl?" I wailed. "What if he forgot all about me as soon as he got back home?" I twisted a lock of hair tightly between my fingers, frustration and despair building inside me.

"Then you have to give him something to remember next time he comes here." The wicked grin on her face spelled trouble.

"If he ever comes back," I said, overwhelmed with sadness.

What did my future hold? Was I doomed to become the wife of a man I despised? Somehow I just couldn't picture it.

There had to be more. This could not become my life. It would kill me slowly, just like Mama who was slowly fading away, her spirit stolen by the man she'd married.

Chapter 7 - Alessandra.

Esmerelda left shortly after dinner. Usually she'd sleep over, but I didn't invite her to stay because I had a lot to think about and mull over.

"Don't fret," she said as she kissed my cheek.

"Easy for you to say. You aren't the one who is doomed to a terrible fate." Worse than death. It sounded cliche and over-dramatic, but I wasn't kidding when I said that.

She rolled her eyes at me before giving me one last hug.

Locking myself in the bathroom, I stripped while I ran a bath. I climbed in and I lay back, closing my eyes. The warm water relaxed my muscles so I allowed my mind to drift to its favorite topic.

Cobra.

Since the first time I'd met him, Cobra had been back a few times with the other bikers and I naturally gravitated toward him. Every time he came, he'd sit in the same chair and let me stand by his side while the older men talked with my father. And every time I'd trace my fingers up and down the spine of the cobra tattoo on his arm. It was my favorite thing in the world to do. He'd close his eyes and roll his head back, and I could almost hear him purring like a tiger.

The touch of my fingertips on his skin sent an electric current through my body, connecting me to that man in a way that defied logic or explanation.

And I loved being close to him. I felt safe and at ease in his presence. His tough exterior didn't scare me because I'd seen his big heart the day he'd helped Mama.

Sinking my head under the water to wet my hair, I held my breath for a long moment as I stared up at the ceiling. I sat up and poured shampoo into my hand, washing my hair and rubbing my scalp with large circular motions.

Men loved my hair. They always tried to touch it. I hated it, so I always tied my hair into plaits that hung behind my back. It still didn't stop them from trying. Most men who came to see Papa were perverts-dirty old men who tried to touch me when my father wasn't watching. I'd become an expert at evading their hands, turning a deaf ear to their s.e.xual innuendos and indecent proposals.

"I wanna f.u.c.k you, baby girl," or "Let me make you a woman. Let me be your first," were often hissed in my ear when Papa turned his back. Disgust roiled in my belly, making me feel sick at the thought of them touching me in any way.

I knew what f.u.c.king was. Most of my school friends had done it, some of them since they turned fourteen, some even younger. They discussed their experiences in hushed tones, comparing boys and o.r.g.a.s.ms.

Me? I only dreamed about s.e.x, using all my gathered knowledge about it and giving in to the urges of my body. Whenever I had a craving, I went to my room, closed the door and laid on my bed, heart beating and breath panting. My hands drifted down between my legs to my damp panties. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s swelled, my nipples hard against the fabric of my bra.

Ducking back under the water, I rinsed the shampoo and repeated the process. My hair felt soft and smelled of coconut and vanilla. I reached for the matching conditioner and applied it to my hair, combing my fingers through the long strands as my mind kept wandering.

What was happening to my body?

Although I felt dirty whenever I spied on my older brother, Eduardo, and his girls, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to know more-I'd never seen a d.i.c.k and I wanted desperately to know what it looked like so I could imagine Cobra's inside me.

My brother wasn't shy-in fact, I think Eduardo got off on thinking someone was watching. I'd seen him do things to the girls he brought here, things that should have disgusted me, but instead I was horrified to find that their moans turned me on.

I lathered up a sponge and scrubbed my skin as if my filthy thoughts had sullied my body, then rinsed the soap away.

Stepping out of the bath, I quickly dried off before turning to the mirror. I stared at my naked refection for a long moment, the weight of my beasts in my hands. Would the biker still like me if he saw me now? So many changes had happened to my body in the time he'd stayed away. I turned and appraised my a.s.s, scolding myself that it had become so much fuller and rounder.

Back in my bedroom, I laid down on my bed, touching myself in all the places I wanted Cobra to touch me.

Shame flooded over me as I slid a finger between my wet folds. I groaned as I stroked over the swollen flesh, guilt riding me as I enjoyed the feel of my fingers circling my hard nub.

And then . . . as always . . . his face popped up in front of me. The boy with the cobra tattoo and the lopsided smile.

I imagined his eyes boring into mine, and his hands and mouth all over my p.u.s.s.y. Moving my fingers in and out, I visualized his lips on mine, and his c.o.c.k inside me. Dreaming of my boy, it wasn't long before my body shuddered as warm waves. .h.i.t my core over and over. So much pleasure . . . I bit down hard on my lower lip to silence the cry that tore from my throat.

Oh G.o.d, how I wished it was reality and not only my imagination. I wanted Cobra . . . wanted him to take me with his c.o.c.k.

Touching myself only made me want him more. Yearn for him. And he didn't even know. Didn't know I was l.u.s.ting after him, waiting for him to come back to this h.e.l.lhole and take me away with him.

I wanted to be his. I'd do everything in my power to make him happy if only he'd take me away and love me too.

Chapter 8 - Cobra.

Three months later The earth stood still. I stopped breathing. Nothing existed except her.

I'd never seen anything as beautiful in my life. I'd seen plenty of ugly. Some pretty things. But nothing that could compare to the beauty of the doe-eyed creature I was staring at. The child had grown into a young woman.

What a difference a year made.

Alessandra flicked her hair over her shoulder and looked straight at me, her eyes dancing with the exuberance of someone young enough to still believe that anything was possible, even joy.

Fascinated, I couldn't tear my eyes away. Not even when Razor punched my stomach with his elbow, and the last breath left my body forcefully.

"Cobra, he's talking to you." Ryder's voice floated to me, as if I were in a trance.

"Huh?" I sucked on the thick humid air, still not willing to let go of the sight of her, drinking in the long limbs, the bee-sting t.i.ts that had filled out to full round b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the c.o.c.k-jerking smile. And those eyes . . . f.u.c.k, those eyes spoke to me.

"She's f.u.c.king jail bait," Razor whispered.

All eyeb.a.l.l.s were on the girl now. "She's nearly eighteen. Her birthday is next month."

Razor whistled between his teeth. "She's a f.u.c.king stunner, huh?"

I growled at him, wanting to warn him to stay the f.u.c.k away from Alessandra, but her father's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Ahhh, Alessandra, did I not tell you to stay inside?" the old man barked at her, a deep frown etched into his sunburned face.

Chastised, the dazzling smile fell from her face before she turned and walked away without argument. I hadn't even had a chance to say h.e.l.lo. She swayed her hips as if she knew what she'd be doing to the men watching her.

The Mexican laughed wryly. "You remember my daughter? You should pray you never have one. When you have a son, you only need to worry about one d.i.c.k." He narrowed his eyes, glaring directly at me. His top lip lifted into a snarl. "With a girl, you have to worry about every p.r.i.c.k in the neighborhood. Especially if she is a beauty, like my Alessandra."

f.u.c.k. The old man was right. I was most likely not the only man who wanted to sink his c.o.c.k into her, taking her innocence and making her his, imagining her arms around my neck, her eyes soft and dewy, her p.u.s.s.y responding to me.

I knew in that instant I wanted to be the first man who f.u.c.ked her. The first to hear her moan. To see her eyes as I made her mine.

I also knew I didn't want another f.u.c.ker touching her. She was going to be mine. And only mine.

Fate had forced me to make this journey. Malone had taken sick and he'd called me to his bedside, telling me that he was never doing the trip to Mexico again and that it had now become my responsibility.

"Take Ryder and Razor with you. And Daemon, too. Teach the boys what I've taught you. It's time for you to take the reins soon, Son. I'm over it. My body is riddled with pain. I want to die in peace."

Malone wasn't a quitter. If he said he'd had enough, it meant he really had. I had no choice but to go back, in spite of my best intentions of staying away from Alessandra. I'd planned to ignore the girl once I arrived, but it turned out to be impossible to ignore the woman she'd become.

With clarity I'd never experienced before, I knew now exactly what I wanted. It wasn't what I came for, but I wasn't leaving without her.

There was six years between us. By law I wasn't allowed to touch her. Yet.

f.u.c.k that. f.u.c.k everything.

I've changed my mind about everything. Antonio Alvarez and Don Pedro could go f.u.c.k themselves.

Soon I'd be president of the Scorpio Stinger MC. I'd be the one making the decisions for the club. All the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. The emptiness I'd felt all these years would disappear.

"You boys go back to the motel and get us cold beer for tonight," I said to Ryder and Razor. It was Razor's first trip with us and already he was complaining about what a h.e.l.lhole this was and how thirsty the heat made him.

"Are you not coming back with us?" Razor asked, sweat running down his face.

"No. I have something I need to do. I won't be long. Go now."

Chapter 9 - Alessandra.