She undid the buttons of my shirt with trembling hands, and I let her take the lead on how fast or slow we took things. Usually, I took charge and set the pace in the bedroom, but Marie wasn't just any woman. She was the woman. My woman.
As she undid the last button of my dress shirt, her palm brushed against my erection, and I moaned, the simple touch doing more to me than any other woman had ever managed to do with her whole body at my disposal. There was just something about Marie…she was untouchable.
In more ways than one.
She closed her hand over my cock, squeezing. I stiffened, forcing myself to stand still because if I pushed her too hard, and broke my promise, I'd lose the girl before I ever got a chance to have her. I closed my eyes, thinking about anything that would stop me from ripping the control right out of her hands. The Padres losing streak. The pothole outside of the precinct I always had to swerve around. The sound of the ocean when it crashed on the shore—
She pulled back, her hand still on my cock, her mouth swollen from my half-hearted kisses as she pushed my chest with her free hand. "You okay?"
"Yep." I nodded immediately. "Better than okay."
"Look…" She let go of me. "If you're not into this, just say so—"
I cradled her cheeks. "I'm into it, Marie. Why would you think I wasn't?"
"You seem like you're distracted, or holding back," she practically whispered.
"I am holding back."
She parted her mouth. "Why?"
"Last time we kissed, I came on too strong, and you didn't kiss me again for over a decade." I swallowed, exposing myself in ways I didn't want, but honesty felt necessary. "I don't want to fuck it up again. Not when I've been given a second chance to do it right."
Something changed in the color of her eyes, shifting them into a deeper hue, and she lowered her lids as if she didn't want me to see. "You didn't do anything wrong back then. Everything you did was right, that was the problem."
"Then I don't want to be right."
There it was again. The changing of her eyes. "Just do what you normally do. Don't try to change for me. I want you just the way you are."
I want you just the way you are.
The way she said that, all soft and passionate, it broke whatever fear had been holding onto me, and just like that, I stopped worrying about scaring her away. Closing the distance between us once more, I melded my mouth to hers, hiked up her leg, slid inside her thighs, and pumped my hips against her core, groaning at the sensation of her heat on my aching cock that I felt even through our clothing. No more holding back. No more second-guessing.
Just me.
12
Marie
Joseph's ability to be completely honest with me, even when it was perfectly clear that he didn't want to be, scared the crap out of me. I didn't have that ability, or the willingness to open myself up to another person like that. I'd spent my life hiding my true feelings, protecting myself, and I wasn't sure I was capable of changing that.
I wasn't even sure if I wanted to.
His fingers slid down the zipper of my dress, quickly undoing it. As it hit the floor, some part of me couldn't believe I was almost naked in the same room as Joseph Hernandez, and the other part of me couldn't believe it had taken us this long to get here. His fingers skimmed my bare back, and I moaned. I was usually pretty quiet in bed. To be loud was to let go, and I didn't let go, but something told me with Joseph…there would be no quiet.
No holding back.
I shoved his shirt off his shoulders—had I unbuttoned it earlier?—and skimmed my fingers down his back, up his tattooed ribcage, and teased the sprinkling of coarse chest hair. Touching him like this felt so new, so uncertain, and yet somehow as familiar as my own skin. That didn't make much sense, yet somehow it totally did at the same time. Kind of like us.
One second I was against the wall, and the next his hands were cupping my butt while his mouth devoured mine and he walked us toward the bed. He laid me down on the mattress, our lips never parting as he settled his weight on top of me, his erection pressing against me in ways I'd never felt before.
He kicked his shoes off, thudding them on the floor as he ran his fingers up my leg, skirting over my hip before tracing a circle around my shoulder. Everywhere he touched left a blazing fire of need and passion, and there was no denying that the man knew what he was doing. His tongue danced around mine, teasing me, and I dug my nails into his shoulders as he thrust against me, sending a wave of pleasure so intense I almost came right then and there.
With his pants still on.
His mouth lingered over mine for a second as if he couldn't bear to break the contact, but then he did, kissing a trail down my neck, over my collarbone, and then hovering over the curve of my breast as he tugged at the clasp of my bra. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he laughed and pulled back, not quite meeting my eyes. "I can't get the damn thing."
The way he said it sounded light and fun, but there was something to his voice that told me he was nervous, which was baffling. The man could probably do this in his sleep and still blow a woman's mind, so what was there for him to be nervous about? I was just another girl to add to his (more than likely very, very long) list.
I undid it easily, holding it to my chest. "There you go."
He stared at my breasts, still covered by the item of clothing, and swallowed hard. As he reached out to touch me, his hand trembled, confirming my thoughts on his nerves. "You're way too good to be with me."
I bit my lip, not really sure what to say.
"But I'll make it worth your while," he whispered, locking eyes with me. "I'll be so fucking good to you, babe."
He gently lowered my hand, letting the bra fall to my lap. My heart lurched as he stared at me, his jaw locked and his lids lowered. The silence in the room was deafening. His proclamation to be good to me quieted me, mostly because I didn't know what that meant. I'd never had anyone treat me well because I'd carefully chosen men who wouldn't do so. What did it mean to be treated well? How would it feel? What would it be like to be Joseph's girl?
He melded his mouth to mine again as his fingers teased my flesh. He touched everywhere he could, my stomach, my thighs, my breasts, tracing a circle around my nipple but not actually touching me. By the time he closed his mouth over the hard peak, I was panting and silently begging for it.
When he scraped his teeth over me, sucking me into his mouth, I cried out and buried my hands in his dark hair, losing myself to him. Usually, I was always on guard, always trying to blow a guy's mind, but with Joseph, it was impossible not to lose myself in his touch, his mouth, his body…
He slid back from me, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a condom. I didn't know whether to be insulted he'd carried one around with him just in case, or thankful that he was prepared. For the sake of moving things along, I chose option B.
He stood up, undid his pants, and let them hit the floor.
Holy shit.
He wore nothing but a pair of socks and boxer briefs, and it was the most glorious thing I'd ever seen—ever. His muscular legs were peppered with dark hair, which was also present on his tattooed chest and down the center of his hard abs. The thin line of hair extended down to his boxer briefs, leading to an impressive bulge that was pressing against the black fabric.
"You're…" I locked eyes with him, sensing a vulnerability within him as I sought the right word. There was none other besides: "…beautiful."
He hesitated, opening and closing his fists. "I'm not the beautiful one in this room."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he lowered his boxers and stood there gloriously naked, and all that escaped was a muffled, "Omf."
As soon as they hit the floor, he was climbing over my body, leaving a trail of kisses and flames in his wake. He started at my ankles and worked his way up. When he nipped at the spot above my knee, his fingers slid over the top of my thighs, and I held my breath, parting my legs in silent invitation. His fingers brushed a
gainst me gently, almost not at all, but I felt it deep in my soul. I dug my fingers into the backs of his shoulders, moaning as my head fell to the side.
I saw us in the mirror, his darker skin against my paleness, and I couldn't take my eyes off him as he kissed a path from one breast to another, driving me to the brink of pleasure with his hands and mouth. As he sucked my left nipple into his mouth, he turned his head, locking eyes with me in the mirror, catching me watching him.
Instead of cowering away or closing my lids, I stared right back, defying my nerves and refusing to back off. I'd been watching him because there was no way I'd miss a frigging second of this, or the opportunity to watch him drive me crazy in ways I'd never imagined possible.
He released my nipple and slid down my body, tearing his eyes from mine in the mirror as he closed his palms over me, covering my breasts with both hands…another sight I couldn't take my eyes off of. I'd never seen or felt anything so erotically charged as this in my whole—
"Oh my God, yes," I breathed, letting my legs fall to the side.
He'd removed my panties at some point—I had no idea when because I'd been too caught up in him—and his mouth closed over me intimately, his head buried between my thighs. I cried out again as his tongue stroked me, sending a razor-sharp wave of pleasure that was almost too much rocketing through my veins. His mouth on me like that…
It was indescribable.
He rolled his tongue over me, first in slow, soft circles but then they grew faster, harder, and within seconds I was there, coming so explosively that I saw stars. Actual frigging stars.
As I recovered from the most explosive orgasm of my life, I heard a condom wrapper crinkle, and then he was between my thighs, burying his face in my neck as he thrust inside me with one smooth stroke. I cried out, wrapping myself around him and never wanting to let go.
Maybe I wouldn't have to?
It was a startling thought.
He whispered Spanish to me, words I didn't understand yet somehow I knew exactly what he was saying, because I felt the same way. He moved inside me, touching me as he drove me higher and higher until I forgot everything but this moment, this private time between us. There was nothing that would ever take away the memory of what it felt like to have him buried inside me. His hardness inside me, his mouth on my skin, his hair against my cheek.
It would forever be ingrained in my soul.
I closed my eyes for the first time, letting the sensation of him on top of me take over. The pleasure built and built until it finally snapped, and as I came again, he was right there with me, driving deeper inside me as he cried out my name in a half prayer, half plea.
Afterward, I hid my face in his shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes just yet because I needed a second— only a second to absorb what had just happened, and who it had happened with. I had no idea what came next, or what he'd say when he came back down from the high he'd taken us on, but right here, right now, we were one. It felt like it was meant to be.
Like we were meant to be.
We lay together for a while, neither of us speaking or moving. After an indeterminable amount of time, he finally pulled back and looked at me. The second we met one another's gazes, what just happened felt really frigging real, and I fought down the panic that tried to rise, because oh my God, I'd slept with Joseph Hernandez.
No matter how quickly this died, every time I saw him from here on out, I'd think about how his mouth felt on mine, how deeply he'd filled me, and I'd never forget—
"Don't," he said, his voice softer than his touch on my cheek.
I blinked. "Don't what?"
"You're panicking. You're ready to run from me again." He paused, brushing his lips against mine, feather light. "Don't do it. I really want you to stay by my side."
My heart skipped a beat, and I let my lids fall down. The moment somehow felt more intimate than what we'd done moments before. "It's just…that was…"
He waited patiently, smoothing my hair off my damp forehead.
"It was the best I've ever had." I swallowed hard. "I never say that, but it was."
He nodded slowly. "For me, too."
I hesitated. "And that scares me."
"Yeah." A small smile played at his lips. "Me too, if we're honest. But sometimes the things that scare us are the things we should go after."
I generally avoided things that scared me.
Most people did.
"When I was up for reenlistment with the Marines, I had two choices. One: Keep going, do my twenty years, hope I didn't die, and stick with the known. Two: Get out, go to college, maybe fail, and end up a druggie like my parents." He played with a piece of my hair. "The second option scared me more than dying, so I knew it was the right one."
That described the kind of man he was to a tee. He chased danger and uncertainty, while I cowered away from it like a…well, you know. "Are you happy you went for option two?"
"Very," he said, smiling. "Look, we've got no clue how or when this will end, but now that we've taken the first step in finding out, don't you think we owe it to ourselves to take it all the way to the end, one way or the other?"
He was right. We did. And no matter what, it would end…it was just a matter of how, and whether or not it would be cordial. "I have one condition."
"Name it."
I touched the tiny indent in his chin because I could. "We don't tell anyone. Not yet, anyway."
"I…" He frowned slightly, trailing off. He flexed his jaw. "How long?"
I pushed a piece of his hair back off his forehead. "I don't know."
It's not that I was trying to hide what was happening between us, I just didn't want people butting in and trying to run things before we even knew what was going on. I loved Carrie and Finn, but they had the tendency to stick their noses where they didn't belong, and I didn't want to risk them ruining whatever this was between us before we could figure it out.
Once we did, I'd be the first to scream it out loud to the world.
"You understand why I want to keep it quiet, right?" I asked when he remained quiet.
He nodded. "Yeah, sure. It's cool. I'll be right back, okay?"
"Yeah," I said hesitantly. There was something in his eyes…
He pushed off me and heading toward the bathroom. His steps were sure and smooth, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hinted he had something he wanted to say but had decided not to. As he shut the bathroom door behind him…
I couldn't help but feel like it was so much more than just a door being closed.
13
Hernandez
I walked down the hallway, waving at a maid as I went before lowering my head again. The idea was to be as normal as possible around others so that if they were asked if they'd seen anything suspicious, I wouldn't even slightly come to their mind.
Whistling quietly, I pulled my phone out and clicked on Marie's name. Still good?
Yep, he's on the podium, just came out.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and pulled out the keycard that would open any door in the hotel. My contact at the local department had gotten it for me. I glanced over my shoulder and pressed my ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement.
There could be a million reasons someone might be in that room—a girl he'd brought back to his room, a security guard left behind to make sure no one slipped inside, a maid just trying to do her job and move on…nothing. I knocked twice, glancing over my shoulder.
Nothing again.
Satisfied that there were no surprises in store for me behind that door, I slid the key into the card reader, my heart pounding because I loved this shit. The danger, the chance of being caught, I motherfucking lived for it. It was all I had, that rush.
Although, I guess that wasn't true anymore.
I had Marie…kind of. Maybe.
Shaking my head, I forced my mind off of the woman that had haunted my dreams for years and focused on the matter at hand. Now wasn't the time to be
distracted. I slid into the room and closed the door quietly behind me, surveying any possible hiding spots or escape routes in case I needed them. There was the bathroom, a big closet, and a couch I could crouch behind in a desperate attempt for cover if the other two failed. Hopefully, they didn't fail, because as far as hiding spaces went, a couch was a pretty shitty one.
Escape route firmly in place, I searched for his laptop. It was easy to find—too easy, actually. Guys who had shit to hide didn't usually make it so easy. Either he was innocent and had no reason to guard his laptop, or so cocky in his obscurity that he'd made a colossal mistake.
Either way, it was time to get my job done.
He'd left the screen open, so I pushed the power button with a hotel pen that had been left out. As the screen came to life, the password protection popped up. At least he took that much of a precaution, but it wouldn't deter me from getting what I needed. I slid the thumb drive into the USB slot, watching as the screen flashed twice. According to the agent who had briefed me earlier this morning that meant it was doing its thing.
After it finished copying everything he had, it would shut back down.
As I waited, I checked my phone. Still good?
Marie's reply was immediate. Yep. He's telling us about stocks.
Sounds riveting.
I could picture her rolling her eyes as she typed: Shut up.
Grinning, I slid my phone into my pocket and checked out my surroundings. The hotel room was clean, eerily so. Not even a shoe lay on the floor, and he hadn't unpacked if the empty closet was any indication. The only signs of actual life inside the room were the computer and the suitcase on the bed. I walked up to his suitcase and flipped open the lid with the pen I still held in my hand. Folded clothes. A pair of slippers. A comb. Pretty boring, really. Again, nothing that screamed he was a mastermind criminal. I glanced at the computer, which was still copying.
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