Chapter 21

When the door swung open, Manuel had to stifle a scream of rage. The man who followed Renee in was not Chico, who looked so much like a gringo they did not even glance at him twice at the border, it was that Americano. The one Jose and Antonio were to have taken care of last night.

Manuel kept his eye glued to the peephole, no longer concerned about Fran, who was with Pepito, a reliable man. Inside he was fuming. Where was that cabron Chico?

Renee followed Alex into the room and closed and bolted the door after them.

Wordlessly, she started peeling her clothes off, running her hands over her body in a constant gesture of enticement.

I will not help him, she thought bitterly. I would have trusted him and he betrayed me. She might have cried a few days ago, but now her face was molded into a mask that refused to give way. Thanks to Manuel, she thought.

She tossed her bra on the table, and then she was swept up into Alex's arms. "Wait!" She tried to writhe away. "I'm not undressed yet." She didn't want to, but she trembled in the warm shelter of his arms, at the comforting scent of his body.

"Renee! It is you, isn't it?"

She jerked free and turned her back to him. "Get undressed," she said. Quickly, she worked her skirt over her hips. Her panties followed with the gentle sign of silk wisping over nylon. Sitting down, she rolled her stockings down her legs. Then she was ready.

Alex stood watching her. A stupid, perplexed expression on his face.

"Get undressed," she hissed. "That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

Standing, Renee began to undo his shirt. Her hands crept to his belt, unfastened the top button of his trousers, gently ran the zipper down.

She pressed her body against his and wiggled until she felt his cock rising, jabbing against her thigh. It was distant. Although she was conscious of it happening, it roused no feeling in her. She knew why she was doing this.

Not for Alex. Or Manuel. But because of what Manuel promised to do to her and Fran if she failed. Renee shivered. He had the girl brought up so they could see--the girl with the nose split with a knife so that it spread across her face, the crushed cheekbones that made her look dead and old and used. The scars on her deflated breasts!

That, Manuel said, was what would happen to them. He promised. On his mother's name he promised.

Of course, he said, they would be worth very little to him then, and he would sell them to a less gentle taskmaster who didn't worry about looks because the things he wanted done were so ugly nobody wanted to look anyway.

Manuel had leered at them, and Renee believed. There was never any doubt in her mind that he meant what he said.

Pressing against Alex, she tried to stir his passion with her hand, afraid again, after she promised herself she wouldn't be.

Flopping back on the bed, she pulled Alex after her so he lay between her sprawled legs. That should be enough, she thought, staring up at the green ceiling where she knew Manuel would be watching.

Alex's body was fevered on hers. His heat warmed her and she felt his fingers tentatively groping for her slit. Then he had her and she signed in relief that the uncertainty was gone.

His fingers forced themselves inside her roughly, straining the lips of her cunt until she had to move to try to get away from them. Her hand darted down and caught his prick and started to stroke it and cup his hairy balls.

What was she doing? It was so automatic that Renee felt sick. Worse, the desire was rising in her against her will to be used by him. As Manuel and those two strangers had used her.

She guided his prick into her, writhing in ecstasy as it pushed her cunt open, the long thickness of it sliding sensuously into her cunt. She wanted to faint when she finally felt the head nestled deep inside of her. Deep inside her soft, white belly.