Mexican Hey Dudes Novels & Stories

I said staring at Antonio. Yes, I'm a bit slow, don't judge me. "Nope." he said popping the 'p' and grinning down at me. "I'm actually Daryl, fully American, atyour service." he held his hand out once again for me to shake. I took it shaking him slightly and feeling a bit silly. "Seriously Latifah , that was the worst Mexican impression I have ever heard. What kind of Mexican says ola and Antonio like that? He sounded like a fricking robot." Mavis chuckled and I joined her.

"That's the Mexican hat dance. It's also called Jarabe Tapatío." "Huh?" I wiggled a brow at him. "Don't get that. Jara-bee Tapi…" He laughed at me. "I didn't say that, did I?" "I still don't get you." My eyebrows were knitted, expressing how confused I was. "You know what?" He bent a little, took my hand, wore that sinister smile. "Let's go there and check them out. And, um, we can join them as well." "Huh?"

Just then, the two little boys ran into the living room and they stopped in front of the door staring at Eden and the others. "Come on kids, what did I teach about welcoming a visitor?" Mr Woods asked as he saw the kids. "Buena's tardes.." ( good afternoon) they both echoed in unison "Wow.. Are they mexicana?" Pedri asked excitedly "Partly American and partly mexican, their mother is American but their father is Mexican," Mr Woods replied smiling "Co'mo estas?" ( how are you) Miguel asked smiling as he looked at the kids "Buenos.. " They both replied in unison

The relief that flooded my senses when stinky walked aways was enough to get you believing in heaven. "Hey beautiful," a short, semi chubby man spoke. He had slightly darker skin than the two, black hair that covered his round head and shaped it perfectly. A round belly covered by an orange dirty tank top, pared with a pare of beige coloured basketball shorts and blue flip-flops. He was Mexican looking with a bit of Chinese.

He leaned against the door, folding his arms as he stood in their path. "Hey ladies...". His husky tone of a voice was a mix of his deep Mexican accent. One could tell that he's Mexican not only because of his voice but his brown skin. Despite that, he was looking totally hot in that position, making the girl gulp down their own saliva nervously. "I'm Dante Alessio". He introduced while stretching his hand forth for a handshake.

Ace blurts out. "¡Hijueputa! ¡Doble hijueputa! ¡Triple hijueputa! ¡Culicagado! ¡Pirobo! ¡Gueva!" I scream out a slew of Colombian curse words meaning anything from mother f*cker to brat. I was so frustrated that I had seemingly transitioned into my mother tongue to swear my head off. I couldn't believe it. She had done it again. But this time, she had not only gotten past my men but also a top-of-the-line security system.

“Your papa give dinero. Lucky you. He pay today and we send you home. Comprende?” Jon just nodded. His throat was parched and raw. He was afraid speaking would hurt. “You should say thank you to us for treetin’ you so good, sí?” A trickle of blood slid out of the talking Mexican’s nose. The others laughed arrogantly at his words, once they had been translated. Blood then started to run out of another’s nose, then another, then another, till they were all bleeding.

Cara spoke, shoving her phone in front of my face. Wow, that sounded weirdly professional. I kept swiping back and forth between the two guys. One of the guy looked tall, well built with dirty blonde hair and he was wearing a black leather jacket. He screamed hot and danger in all caps. The other guy had this regular boy next door vibe with brown hair and he was pretty good looking. He reminded me of Tyler for a second and my mind was already starting to compare them both. Fucking hell! When does he get out of my head?

I blow more dust on him, and he stands on his hind legs and starts singing and dancing. “Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Eh, Macarena, ¡Ay! Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Eh, Macarena, ¡Ay!” Yes, I made him sing and dance the Macarena. I think his hounds that are alive should join him, don't you? I blow my dust on the fighting hounds, and they join in. Everyone stops fighting to watch them.

The crowd was watching him and his men with savage skepticism in their eyes. The leader of the Mexicans took a bold step forward separating himself from the crowd behind him, a cocksure look in his eyes. He was a young man in his early thirties with a smooth shaving jaw, long dark brown hair falling to his shoulders, a single cross earring adorning his left ear, his bare bulging muscled arms designed by tattoos. " Do you have the drugs? " he asked in a heavy Mexican accent, his English rough and jaded showing that English is not his first language.