Title: The Slayer (Untamed Hearts, #2)
Author: Kele Moon
Genre: Erotic | Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 31, 2015
To Chuito the apartment was a self-imposed prison for a lifetime of sins. To Alaine, the girl next door, it was salvation from her overbearing, religious father.He was a devil.
She was an angel.Two people who should’ve never met, let alone become friends, but it’s not until they give into the dangerous passion that’s been simmering under the surface for five years that things go to hell.
On the outside, Chuito ‘The Slayer’ Garcia is on top of the world. He’s successful. He’s wealthy. He’s a champion MMA fighter surrounded by friends who support him, but they don’t know what he was before he came to Garnet.
Now his past is churning up demons he can’t ignore. Chuito knows he needs to go back to Miami to end it, but there’s something holding him back, a single temptation he can’t resist before leaving.
She’s the one drug he can’t give up…even if it destroys them both.
“To me you’re coke. Fine. Smooth. Perfectly white. Very bad for me, but so fucking sexy I don’t give a shit. It’s worth going down for.” – Chuito Garcia
“I’m obviously drunk too.” Chuito pushed her away, forcing her fingers out of his hair. “I didn’t eat yet. Just—” He rubbed a hand over his face and stepped back until he hit the door. “You should go.”She swallowed hard and looked away, because the rejection stung. She felt it heat her cheeks, and she closed her eyes against the sadness that swept her up without warning. “Yeah, okay,” she whispered as she fought tears. “I’m sorry for touching you.”
“It’s not you, mami,” Chuito said softly and then reached out and caressed her hair, brushing it away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “You know it’s my issue.”
He flinched, because usually she didn’t swear. “Alaine—”
“No,” she said before he could give her one of his crappy excuses. “It is me. You didn’t want me. You told me to go back to the church.”
“I didn’t know you were going to date assholes!” Chuito gestured to the window as evidence. “Your taste in men sucks!”
“I give up!” She threw up her hands as the tears spilled out and rolled down her cheeks. “I give up, Chu! No one wants me. I’m broken.”
“You’re not broken.”
“I am broken,” she promised him. “Very, very, very broken. I’m cold.”
“Cold?” Chuito let out a broken laugh. “Are you crazy?”
“No, really, you don’t know. I’m not very good in bed.”
“Don’t tell me about it.” Chuito held up a hand to stop her. “I didn’t know you’d been sleeping with Edward or that dick Joe before him.”
“You thought I was going to buy a car without test-driving it first?” she asked in disbelief. “What century are you living in?”
“I thought telling you to go back to church would change your stance on that.” Chuito shrugged. “I—” He paused and then turned to the door. He grabbed the handle and twisted it. “Go, Alaine. I’m drunk. You’re drunk.”
“You think you can just dismiss me?”
“It’s my apartment,” he reminded her. “I’m dismissing you. Right now.”
“Fine.” She grabbed her purse off the kitchen table and brushed past him.
Her door next to his was locked, so she had to fish in her purse, but her hands were shaking and she was crying. She was embarrassed, and she wished she had grabbed the bottle off the counter so she could drink all his tequila and just pass out to escape her life. Especially when she could feel Chuito standing there staring at her while she cried over her crushed heart and ego.
“Here’s an idea,” Chuito said slowly as if he didn’t trust himself to speak, but he did anyway. “Maybe it’s not you.
Maybe it’s them.”
“It’s not,” she assured him as she found her keys. “It’s me.”
“You’re wrong.” He sounded sure about it too. “I guarantee you, if those fuckers told you that you’re cold, then it’s them.”
“I can’t do it alone either.” She put her key in the door and turned the lock. “It’s me, Chu. Be happy you’re not interested. I’m leaving you alone now.”
She stepped in, closed the door, and threw her purse on the floor. Then she walked to her bedroom, her breathing ragged, the tears dripping down her chin as she kicked off her shoes. She pulled off her top and threw it on her comforter in a huff.
Alaine sat down on the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands. Five years, and she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. From wanting him. From thinking about him every waking moment.
She hated herself for living for those times, late at night, when she’d hear his dreams turn into nightmares, and she’d have a reason to go to him. He was so different at night, without the impenetrable shields he put up during the day.
She closed her eyes, imagining what he would look like with the covers pushed down around his waist, the edge of his boxer briefs barely visible, all that beautiful, tanned, and tattooed skin showing.
The door to the apartment burst open, and she just had a second to grab her shirt and cover herself before Chuito was filling up the doorway to her bedroom.
“Coño.” Chuito looked at the ceiling rather than Alaine sitting there with her arm across her chest. He turned as if he was going to leave, but he stopped, showing her his back. He put his hand on the frame and swallowed hard before he asked quietly, “What do you mean, you can’t do it alone?”
“Really?” She laughed. “I have to spell it out to you? The gangster. The man who is too bad to be with someone good?”
“Just answer the question, Alaine,” Chuito said with his back still to her. “Spell it out for me. Remember, we don’t speak the same first language.”
She rolled her eyes, because that one was very old. The different-cultures excuse had expired three years ago. “Spare me.”
“Did you put your shirt on?”
“No, I didn’t.” She threw it at him for good measure. He flinched when it hit his back. “I’m not an angel, and you’re not a devil. So what are you going to do ’bout it?”
“It is official that you’re not allowed to drink Patrón anymore,” Chuito growled.
“It’s my apartment.” She tried to imitate his harsh, unbending way of demanding things. “Get out.”
“Why are you taking this so fucking personally?” Chuito asked in disbelief.
So obsessed is she with the beauty of romance and the novelty of creating it she’s lost in her own wonder world most of the time. Thankfully she married her own dark, handsome, brooding hero who had infinite patience for her airy ways and attempts to keep her grounded. When she leaves her keys in the refrigerator or her cell phone in the oven he’s usually there to save her from herself. The two of them now reside in Florida with their three beautiful children who make their lives both fun and challenging in equal parts–They wouldn’t have it any other way.