Romance, violence, murder, and mayhem, all twisted together in off-beat, action packed stories featuring the Zeta Cartel in Mexico.
The first Zeta Cartel novel by AJ Adams
“Dear God, please help me! Don’t let them kill me!”
Her hot body, slick with sweat, was pressing up against me. Her face was in my neck, her legs wrapping around mine. She couldn’t use her hands, but she clung like a limpet. She smelled of sweat, fear, and a sweet, flowery soap. An old-fashioned scent. Lavender maybe. Or rose. I’m not a gardening man.
Terrified they’d drag her back and hang her again, she was whispering frantically in my ear, her voice hoarse, her tone pleading. “Habla Ingles? Take me home with you. I’ll be yours! I’ll do whatever you want!”
Instantly my cock hardened. The girl froze for a moment, then rubbed against me, promising, enticing. “Chingat!”
Hearing the insult, my hands gripped her arms tightly with instinctive anger.
She gasped. “Oh crap, no! Not fuck you, I mean, fuck me! You understand? Oh Jesus! Amor. Joder.”
She was babbling now, terrified I wouldn’t understand her offer. As if I could think of anything else but having her. I could see the pale white skin of her swelling breasts tipped with sweet rose nipples, tight and taut with fear. I could feel them through my shirt as she writhed against me. She was rubbing against my cock lasciviously, making her offer clear in a language every man on the planet would understand instinctively.
“I’ll do anything you want. Just take me home with you. You won’t regret it, I swear.”
She spoke with an unusual, light, lilting accent. Not an American. Or a Canadian. Not Australian, either. English probably.
The men came crowding round, laughing, catcalling and demanding to have their toy back.
“C’mon, chismoso! Give her back!”
“Yes, we had her first!”
She didn’t need to understand what they were saying; their message was a universal one, too. “You want me!” Her voice cracked desperately in my ear. “Come on, take me to your place.”
She was kissing my neck, but I could feel tears. She was crying. I grabbed a chunk of her hair, and pulled her head back so I could see her face. Wide spaced dark blue eyes, a small nose that would have been pretty if it weren’t dripping, and an oval face framed with shoulder length black hair. Although she was clearly terrified, and tears were running down her face, she tried to smile. She had guts.
Frightened by my silence, she moved slightly, riding my rock hard cock that was threatening to tear out of my jeans, and setting her breasts jiggling right in front of my eyes. I couldn’t help it: I dipped my head and licked a nipple. The tight bud set in the soft skin quivered. The girl gasped and pulled away, but as everyone around us roared in laughter and yelled obscene encouragement, she shuddered and deliberately leaned towards me, offering herself.
“I can show you a good time,” she whispered.
It was just too tempting. I leaned back in my chair, holding her slightly away from me so I could see her body. The ripe, luscious hips and the sweetly dimpled thighs decided it.
I looked towards Arturo and knew his answer before I even spoke. He was grinning like a bastard, and when I said, “You mentioned a bonus...” he burst out laughing again.
Chloe is a seasoned drug courier who finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Facing a lingering and painful death at the hands of the Zetas, Mexico’s most brutal cartel, she persuades their enforcer to claim her. Has Chloe made a huge mistake, or will her choice prove her salvation - and his?
The second Zeta cartel novel by AJ Adams
“You’re the big boss.” She looked up at me and smiled. She was dressed in a cheap cotton shirt and jeans that should be on the burn pile, but that smile was pure gold. This girl had guts.
“I told José he was a fool to try and cheat you,” she said. “I wasn’t part of it, and I don’t work for you. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She’d heard about our policy protecting bystanders. Of course it doesn’t apply to anyone whose eyewitness testimony can put me in a courtroom. Well, try to put me in a courtroom. In Mexico nobody would dare accuse me, and I’ve enough resources in England to guarantee a police investigation would come to nothing, but it’s not my style to take chances. Solitaire would be going into the ground along with Escamilla.
“Mr Vazquez,” Solitaire gave me her best smile. “I don’t expect something for nothing.” She dropped her voice. “You’d like me,” she whispered. “I’ve heard about you. We’re the same.”
“Yes, I can make you very happy.” She brushed my hand over her cheek and then kissed my palm. “I’m a very good girl,” she said quietly. “Unless you prefer a naughty one?”
She sucked my thumb, and I was instantly rock hard.
When cartel boss Arturo Vazquez discovers his girlfriend Gina is a DEA rat and his deputy Escamilla is staging a take-over, Arturo fixes his problems by killing everyone - except for Solitaire, Escamilla’s unwilling mistress. Solitaire is intelligent, tough, and shares Arturo’s interest in BDSM. Arturo falls head over heels but someone is leaking information - and the evidence points at Solitaire.
The third Zeta Cartel book by AJ Adams
I could’ve strangled her. She knew it too because she stepped away quickly. “Touch me and I’ll have you!” she snarled.
“Bruja mala leche! What the fuck do you think you’re playing at! You can’t push me around!”
“Sure I can.” Her eyes were slate grey, the same colour as the sky, and just as cold. “I need help, and you’re going to give it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ve got a situation. I need someone who isn’t afraid of murder and mayhem.”
I should have charmed her, offered to help and maybe it would have settled it, but I was too mad to even consider it. “Help you? Over my dead body!”
She shrugged. “We can do it that way, too.” She took out her phone. “I’ll call you soon, hopefully within the hour. If you still refuse, I call Smith.” The eyes were hard. “I’d rather not shop you, because I hate that bastard, but I will if you make me.”
I gave her my number. I mean, I wanted to kill her, but in London they notice things like bodies in the street. Especially if you’re careless enough to do it in broad daylight next to a cop shop.
Quique is having a bad time. Back in Mexico his marriage has fallen apart and his wife has made him a laughing stock by cheating on him. Now he’s in London and finding himself out of his depth with a complex commercial deal. To make things worse, Natalia Truelove, a chef and pub manager, is blackmailing him. Quique is ready to commit murder and he’s pretty sure who his first victim will be.
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