Birdy (Upper Echelon Duet Book 1)

seem harmless, but you just never know. Pressing situations force us to react differently than normal.
The clanking and banging continue along with Enrique’s strained groans, confirming it's definitely a safe, and he’s working like hell to get that shit open. I almost feel bad that he’s down to the wire.
Almost.
“Ten seconds,” I warn.
“Coño!” Louder still the banging erupts, a frantic beating that clearly matches the tempo of his heart.
It shouldn’t be so satisfying, but it is, nonetheless. A part of me has always thrived on their fear, how they react to me, the undying power they don’t seem to realize they give me when they all but bow at my feet. I won’t kill him; that’s not my style. I will, however, leave him regretting every last one of his decisions.
And I won’t bat a single lash while I’m at it.
“Seven… Six… Five…” I cock back the slide, blood rushing at the echoing, telltale click. “Four… Three…”
Hulking footsteps resound then, and right as the timer’s alarm blares, Enrique comes skidding to a stop before me, throwing a wad of cash into my lap. “There,” he pants, cheeks reddened, his entire body drenched in sweat. “Cinco mil exatamente.” Five thousand exactly.
From the looks of it, I don’t doubt the amount is what he claims, but you won’t catch me getting up from this chair until I can confirm that. Tucking the 9mm against the small of my back, I organize the bills in the palm of my hand and begin counting silently. Martinez is no less relieved, shifting on his feet restlessly as he wipes his face with his tank top.
It’s not until I fold the stack in half and rise from my seat with a satisfied smile that his shoulders fall lax. “Looks like you’re off the hook, Martinez. You can thank your roommate for having this saved up.”
“Si, hasta que me mata,” he retorts, drawing out my smile further.
“He’s not going to kill you, Enrique. Not if you pass along my message.” I’d pat his shoulder, but you know, sweaty ass motherfucker and all of that. I’ll pass, and I do, showing myself out the way we came. I’m crossing the threshold into the hallway when I stop short and offer him my parting words. “Oh, and, I should mention… The next time you ask me for an advance and don’t follow through on your end of the deal, you won’t be so lucky. Arcángel will know, and those who show up at your door will be far scarier than me, te lo prometo.”
Enrique gulps at the warning of my promise. He knows exactly who I’m talking about: the Yakuza. They don’t fuck around. They couldn’t give three fucks who you are, and they take absolutely no prisoners.
And with that, I leave the man shaking in his living room, strolling right out the front door like I didn’t just hold him up and wordlessly threaten his life for unpaid dues. Down the steps and around his white van, I slide into the Renovatio with ease, Ángel’s megawatt smile greeting me the moment I turn to look at him.
My pussy clenches, especially when I notice the way he’s grabbing his dick over his black jeans. He’s disgustingly good-looking.
It should be illegal.
“What?” I ask candidly, fucking giggling like a damn schoolgirl when he leans closer for a kiss.
“That was hotter than the first time, especially since I could hear it.”
The first time—such a fond memory. That’s how I started working for him—how we met. What started out as a random, unexpected conversation at a bar in Bayside turned into him unknowingly driving me to collect. I didn’t tell him this, obviously, didn’t know what he did at the time. I told him I needed a ride to a friend’s who owed me from our last night out, and he agreed without question. When I got back in the car with 7 G’s and a pocket pistol in hand, urging him to drive off, his expression darkened in all the best ways possible, and the rest is history.
“You’re dumb.” I peck his lips. “Another day, another dollar, baby. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.”
“That’s what makes it sexy as fuck,” he purrs. “I could listen to you do this all day.”
“I see that. Still need me to handle that for you?”
Ángel grins and tugs at my bottom lip with his teeth as he nods. “Always, mami. Fucking always.”
Combined with the excitement from Enrique’s, that’s all it takes to spur me on. Clasping his scruffy chin, I place another chaste kiss to his lips and gently push him back into his seat. “Take it out for me, Ángel.”
The man obliges without an ounce of hesitation, pumping it teasingly at my greedy stare once he’s got it freed. Every time he does that, I drool like a bitch in heat. No lie. Vein porn is real.
Probably looks the same when he grips my hair...
Setting the cash into the cup holders between us, I unlock my phone, end our still-going call, and open up the camera. Then I slide it into the pocket on the armrest of his door and hit the magical button.
“What are you up to, malita?” That naturally husky voice of his comes out deeper, prompting me to smirk as I grab hold of his length and lick my lips.
I’ll show him a bad girl.
“Giving us both something to look back on while you’re gone.” I flick my gaze up at him as my tongue comes out to tease the ridge of his head. “Now drive away…before we get caught.”

♫ Delincuente - Farruko & Anuel AA
“Ma!” I yell, softly shutting the door to her house behind me.
It’s not too late, about nine-ish, so I’m not surprised to hear her yell back, “In the kitchen, mi amor!” 
Twenty bucks says she’s nuking one of those single-serve cake things. She loves them, which is probably why she’s currently prediabetic.
Ambling through the small living room, I round the