Page 2 of Temptation: Discreet
Now here I am, standing behind the large trunk of a tree, hidden from the eyes of the woman currently making her way to her bedroom’s private patio door. Her house is full of large-floor-to-ceiling windows, and in all the time that I've been watching her, she’s never once closed her bedroom curtains. There’s not a single place where you can't see every detail of the dark furniture and decor inside, where I can’t see her. Part of me wants to punish her so she learns to close those curtains, but another part is grateful for her lack of self-awareness that makes watching her all that easier.
My eyes roam her body the moment she steps outside, and I watch the way she places a cigarette between her lips delicately before lighting a match. I watch the way her wrist flicks while striking it, and it feels like I’m watching it in slow motion. The way her lips wrap around the butt, the slow serene inhale, the meditative pause while she holds her breath, then the slow, steady, purposeful exhale of the smoke, almost sultry in it’s lazy release is like she’s begging to have that serene look fucked right off her face until she faces the real release that she’s craving. Her long legs are glowing in the reflection of the moonlight from the pool, the sight of her makes my cock twitch in my pants. I put my phone on silent and in my back pocket, to be sure I don’t have any interruptions, while I continue to stare at this definition of perfection standing before me like Romeo watching his Juliet pine for him.
I haven’t risked going further into their property, even though I could probably get away with it. Her brothers are rarely ever here and from my understanding, her father practically never visits. I’ve remained in control of this desire- at least in all the ways that matter, but I’m itching to ignore every rational part of my being by breaking into her home to watch her sleep. Her black hair sways with the slight breeze, her face framed by the strands that slowly dance back and forth, caressing her face the way I wish my hands could. Night after night; I watch how she looks off into the distance, like she’s lost in her thoughts, and steadily releases her frustrations with every exhale fromthe cigarette. Each night I’m more entranced by her beauty as I watch her from the trees, wishing for her to discover the man hidden in the shadows who’s waiting for her.
How would she react?
Every part of me wants more of her, I just don’t understand why there’s this need for more. Why does this angel have me twisted up inside?
She takes one last drag in and exhales her final puff of smoke, allowing the wind to blow it upwards and away from where she leans against the railing. Her skimpy silk robe opens just enough to grant me a generous view of her smooth, perfect cleavage from the black lacy bra she is sporting underneath. All the blood flows straight to my cock at the tease of those perfect tits. I slide my hand across my groin, rubbing it against the black fabric of my suit pants, but that only causes my cock to thicken even more leaving me needy for her touch.
Placing the end of her cigarette in a little container, she backs away with one last glance from over her shoulder at the night sky. As soon as the glass doors shuts, I exhale a sigh of relief, making my way out from the shadows and back through the path I came from to my Rolls-Royce parked down the road of her home.
I need to walk away from the insanity that comes with watching her. If she had been anyone else, I would have inserted myself into her life a long time ago. But, Cat-Catalina- she is from a family that rules L.A. A family full of violence, one that I turned my back on the moment I got a chance, but even knowing that I should walk away, makes me crave her more. Since the moment I saw her at the bar she’s haunted my dreams, my thoughts, testing my resolve and my control without so much as speaking a word to me or having seen me.
She rarely ever leaves her home alone. Each time it's either with one of her brothers or a guard that her brothers must have chosen for her, one who looks at her like he’s ready to throw her on the bed and have his way with her every time. I clench my fists, getting angry at the memory of her a few weeks ago, doing yoga while his eyes feasted on her. I was on the verge of coming out of my hiding spot just to kill the motherfucker.
When I reach my car, I open the door a little harder than normal. Anger pumps my blood, as ifI had every right to be pissed off. I practically slam the door once I’m inside, pulling out of my parking spot quickly, and start to head back the ten minutes it takes to arrive at my penthouse.
The streets are always busy with people, no matter what time it is. Crowds gather and walk through Ocean Park, enjoying their time without a care in the world. As I drive by, I can see people passing through on their bikes, couples holding hands out in the open. Part of me wishes that was me with my sweet Catalina. We’ll get there. The bright lights of the city zoom pass me as I speed down the streets. The lights remind me of shooting stars in the distance as I continue my way home.
When I reach the parking garage, I make my way inside and up the ramp. The sounds of cars driving by echoes in the darkly lit building, the flashes of their lights brightening and dimming as they zoom past. I back into my designated spot, unbuckle my seatbelt, lock the doors and make my way inside the building to the elevator. I try focusing my mind on Catalina and her beauty - it’s the only way to not let the sound of the speeding cars drag me back into a memory, into the war that battles inside my head.
Walking out of the elevator, I see Kai leaning against the door of my penthouse. There are only two on this floor, the one to the right is mine while the one to the left is Kai’s. His foot leans against the wall, his arms crossed in the black suit we normally wear for work, and a smirk on his face with a look of mischief in his eyes. The bastard had moved next door to me, and although I act annoyed, I’m grateful to have the man that I consider my brother as my neighbor. He doesn’t say a word as I reach for my door handle, or when I open the door leaving it wide open for him to follow behind me.
Kai shrugs off his jacket as he makes his way to the kitchen, tossing it over the back of the chair at the island. I do the same with my own while he opens the fridge and takes out two bottles of beer, placing one in front of where I stand.
“Still stalking the chick from the bar?” He questions bringing the bottle to his mouth, raising an eyebrow in amusement as he takes a swig of his beer.
“I am not stalking her,” I bark, grabbing my own beer before the droplets around it fall to the smooth surface of the granite countertop. Taking another swig of his beer, he lowers his drink, allowing the light clink of the glass meeting the counter to fill the silence.
“What would you call watching her every night and following her every movement from a distance then?” He crosses his arms leaning back on the fridge, similar to the way he stood by my door when I first arrived.
“Very fucking invested,” I mumble hoping that I said it low enough that he couldn’t hear. The mischievous smile that appears on his face tells me he heard my remark, and not only that, but he also has a plan. His ideas have a tendency of getting us in a whirl wind of trouble, especially when we were in the special forces, but I always had his back just as much as he always had mine.
“What?” I say evenly, pulling my own bottle back to my lips, letting the cold liquid soothe my throat as I take a couple chugs.
“Don’t you have history with her brother? Can’t you just get him to hire us to be the new security?”
His suggestion is something I’ve already questioned myself. Our history would make it perfect to see her in person, to touch her the way I want too, even if it will get me killed by her family. Her brothers are about as overprotective as the secret services are with the President according to my…research. I can only imagine them planning my death the moment I showed interest in their sister if we do end up working with them. I don’t tell Kai the truth about her family. All he knows is that there’s history. I couldn’t tell him she’s part of the Cartel, even if she’s not really involved.
I drag the palm of my hand down my face with a sigh. The only person that can convince Julian to hire me is Ry. Ry was one of the kids we hung out with as kids. His family worked for the Dominguez family so they essentially grew up together. Ry had always been gifted with technology and had helped us get in and out of trouble more times than I can count. He’s the one that stayed closest with Julian, and he’s the one that still helps him with anything to do with tech. If anyone can convince Julian, it would be him.
I tighten my fists, holding myself back from calling Ry and asking him for the favor of sending Julian and his business my way. I shake my head, refusing to let myself fall for the attraction that I may have for his sister. She doesn’t need someone like me darkening her soul. She’s an innocent, locked away from the evils of the world, of this life. I’m sure Julian and his brothers are protecting her as best they can. There’s no way they would let her be harmed.
Grabbing the bottle, I chug the rest of my beer in a few swallows, the slow effects of the alcohol numbing the part of me that wants to grab onto the innocence of Catalina and drag her down the fiery pits of hell with me.
Chapter 2
My mouth opens, but no words come out. Screaming in this room surrounded by family wouldn’t change a thing anyway. It would be like screaming in the middle of a desert. No one can see me. No one can hear me. I’m as invisible as a ghost in the middle of a fog.
All three of my brothers sit next to me at the dinner table, while our father sits across from us. Don Alejandro Dominguez, our father, is the devil that rules the hell that is Los Angeles and most of Mexico, along with other territories in the US. His demonic black eyes glare around the table as he discusses his business with Marcelo. My father's black hair barely visible with the white that has covered most of his head, the wrinkles and bags under his eyes showing just how little he actually sleeps. I guess there really is no rest for the wicked.
Being born as the only daughter of the head of the Mexican Cartel has granted me a life sentence of a different kind of prison. I am controlled by a world led by demons in the form of man. I’ve spent most of my life inside a gilded cage, full of nightmares disguised in cold rich elegance with no freedom, no life. In this world, you can either be feared or get fucked. Cabrona or death. When it comes to my father though, I’m just a little girl drowning in the obscurity of hell.
One of my father’s guards mumbles something into my father’s ear. The hushed conversation has panic spreading throughout my body when his piercing brown eyes glare up at me. He grinds his teeth, his face dark and impassive as he stands from his seat. My brothers sit there in silence, each of them the spitting image of my father. They all dress in dark suits with white button-down shirts underneath, and each of them with black hair similar to my own. They each have different haircuts they sport to tell them apart, but they all have the signature Dominguez brown eyes inherited from our father. All three of them don’t have a trace of our mother in any of them, except for me.
The scars across my father’s knuckles though tell the story of my mother’s death, the one that haunts me in every nightmare. The nightmare that makes me replay her murder as if it was pressed on repeat; watching her life leaving her body making her hazel eyes go void, empty and dead.