“Don’t even think about coming yet, Erin,” he murmured, and his right hand dropped then, palming her through her khakis right at the juncture of her thighs, his fingers pressing harder as she jerked away from his touch. “And don’t even think about trying to squirm away. Unless you’re going to tell me you don’t like this?”
He suckled her breast hard as he flared his fingers out, and Erin felt a rush of damp heat flood through her system, culminating in a white-hot point where Zander’s fingers teased her. He had somehow unzipped her pants without her realizing it, and the pressure through the material was gone—he now had his fingers firmly against her, stroking the impossibly sensitive skin as she gasped, her gaze flying up to meet the hard, triumphant certainty in his.
“Zander, I can’t—”
“Oh, I think you can,” Zander murmured. He slid his body down hers, his hands shoving down her pants so quickly that she tried to scramble back, but his mouth was on her then, his face buried between her legs, and at the first flick of his tongue Erin arched off the bed, her body taut and quivering, her ass held captive in Zander’s hands, and he just let her fall again, his tongue darting forward, tasting her, teasing her, dancing around the most sensitive nub on her entire body as she writhed in his grasp, his soft chuckle reverberating against her clit.
“So goddamned beautiful,” he murmured again, and he turned his face then, pressing his mouth against the soft skin of her thighs, generating entirely new whorls of pleasure even as her core practically throbbed for him to move back, move back, to take her with his mouth, his fingers. “You like this Erin?” The words floated up to her and she blinked, realizing she’d shut her eyes, her own mouth sagging open, her back arched. “You wanna tell me how much you like it?”
She looked down at him, knowing that her eyes must look wild, desperate, as she struggled to form words. “I like it!” she gasped. “I…ah!” Her voice broke as Zander’s mouth connected with her clit again, sucking and teasing. He pulled away and she let fly a torrent of words. Anything to bring him back to her, anything to keep him there. “I like it, I want it, I have thought about this so many times, so many times you have no idea, just wanting to feel your body against mine again, your mouth, your lips…yesss.” Her words ended on a long hiss as Zander bent forward, knowing her body, what she wanted, what she needed. He ratcheted her up to the breaking point, then left her hovering there, teetering on the edge of oblivion.
“Come for me, Erin,” he whispered, then he touched her once more and her world blew apart.
—
Zander rocked back, riding Erin’s orgasm as her hands twisted against his temples and she cried out in a high, keening wail. He’d thought this would be enough, that just getting her off would be all he’d need for this little operation to be a success. But as she moaned against him, so impossibly hot—how had he forgotten how much of a furnace her body was, blazing so intensely that all he wanted to do was immerse himself inside her until his body turned to liquid sterno?—he was finding less and less of a reason to let her go, and more of a reason to climb on top of her.
“Zander,” Erin moaned, and that pretty much threw him over the edge. “Zander, please.” And nothing in her voice or actions was saying “Please stop,” that was for damn sure.
He angled off the bed, ignoring her desperate whimper, and raked off his own clothes on his way to his duffel. The condom he’d been damn sure to bring was out and sheathed around his cock in a nanosecond, and he was back before Erin could draw enough breath to protest.
Her deep sigh of contentment as he returned to her body just jacked him up further, her legs naturally parting as she lifted hazed eyes to meet his gaze. He was shaken again by the sight of her, how much like the laughing, happy girl he remembered, but different now, so different that it made his head spin and his chest tight, and—
He couldn’t wait anymore. With one long, smooth thrust, he sank his body into hers and it was his turn to groan.
“Zander.” Erin’s voice was throaty and soft, and sounded like his every fantasy come true. And he’d built up a pile of those fantasies—in the heat of the desert, in the middle of a raging downpour, in the darkness of a night where the tiniest noise could bring everything crashing down. It sounded like Erin had stored up her share of fantasies, too, and that realization shook him to the bone. But none of that compared to how she felt in his arms right now beneath him, her eyes wide and heated, her mouth almost bruised from his, her smile unconsciously knowing as her body remembered the rhythm of them moving together. Zander’s eyes almost crossed as she pressed her soft hands against his abs, her gaze shifting down to watch the play of her fingers over his body. Sensations rocketed through him now from every direction, and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his shit together. What was it about this woman that made him want to explode the second that he touched her?
“Ahh,” Erin sighed, and she angled her head back, sinking into the bed as her grip on his waist firmed. And then…Jesus God, then she was guiding him, pulling him down onto her body and pushing him up again, as she squirmed below him, her eyes drifting shut, her lips parting, just giving herself over to the experience as if the two of them were some sort of performance-art piece and she was lost in the moment of it all. It had always been like that with Erin, he realized, and this is what he missed, missed so badly he shuddered now to see it happening again. He fucking loved to see her get so deep into her pleasure that she was in an entirely different world, a million miles away from all her neurotic worrying and nervousness, the one time she wasn’t thinking about anything other than how good he made her feel. He loved knowing that he was the one to push her there, that he was the one who could set her free.
“Erin,” he rasped, and he felt the pressure build inside him as she moaned in response, her smile deeper, her grip harder as she pulled him into her. “Shit,” and that was it, he was over the top and experiencing the explosive kind of release he hadn’t had since the last time Erin Connelly had wrapped her slender legs around him and taken him over the edge. He groaned so deeply it seemed ripped out of his bones, then allowed himself thirty precious seconds of collapse.
Only thirty seconds, though. He couldn’t afford to let his increasingly complex feelings for Erin fuck with his head, and if he stayed here, nestled in her embrace, that was absolutely going to happen. Yet another thing the army had taught him: Operational Readiness.
So, by the time Erin was finally coming back to her senses, he was ready to move. She reached for him and Zander pulled back, his brows lifted, his grin easy.
“And now, I do think we’re good, sweetheart. At least as far as I’m concerned.” He reveled in how she looked—naked, gorgeous, and as hot for him as he was for her. Which was more than enough to keep him happy for now. “I’m going to grab a shower.”
“You’re leaving?” she asked, her words slow, confused.
“What, you mean you still haven’t gotten me out of your system?” Zander peeled himself off the bed, chuckling as Erin’s brain finally reconnected with her body, her eyes now narrowing at his laughter. “Well, you’re welcome to join me in the shower, then, but we may not ever make it to dinner if you do.”
He turned on his heel and grinned, not even bothering to duck when she slung the backpack full of money at him. Erin never could throw worth a damn.
Chapter 13
The bleat of Erin’s phone the next morning jolted Zander awake, but she didn’t move for a moment, the sound appearing to barely penetrate her fog after a night of fitful sleep. She stared at the offending black device like it was something out of a science-fiction movie, while he moved quickly, decisively. Before the first ring had even ended, he’d reached over Erin and snagged the phone, one hand pulling her upright, the other putting the phone into her palm.
“Erin,” he said, his words low and sharp. “Remember what we talked about. Answer the phone.” Erin blinked at him, then around the room, clearly trying to get her bearings. The room was sti
ll dark, but bright, white sunshine peeked around the curtains, catching the dust motes kicked up by the air-conditioning.
Then the phone rang again and she snapped into focus, her gaze sharpening on him. Good girl. She swiped the device on and brought it up to her ear. “This is Erin,” she said, the words crisp despite the death grip she had on the phone.
There was a pause, and she seemed to sag a little as an impatient voice sounded across the phone. “Erin!” a woman’s voice rang out. “Erin, thank God.”
Erin’s eyes widened and fixed on Zander’s. “Mom!” she said. “Mom, are you all right? I called yesterday but—”
“Are you finally here? It took you so long, I can’t believe how long it took.”
“I’m sorry, the bank—”
“Please tell me you have the money.”
“I do. Of course I do.” Zander heard the woman exclaim, but not in pain, more in anger. Then another voice was on the phone. This one was smooth and rich and deeply accented, and it wasn’t what Erin had expected, if her raised eyebrows were any indication.
“You are not yet in the city,” the voice snapped.
Zander gave her a quick nod, and Erin swallowed. “I’m on the Texas side still. I wasn’t sure where to meet you.”
“Call again when you are over the border. You have the money? You are alone?”
She shot Zander a glance, and he nodded again, as reassuringly as he knew how. “I do have the money, and my…my boyfriend is with me,” she said, rushing on before the other man could speak. “Just to get me over the border, really and truly. I thought it might look suspicious if I traveled alone, and if they searched my car and found the money and asked me about it because I was by myself, there might be a delay.”
There was a short pause, a rush of hurried conversation. Then the voice was back, full of suspicion. “Your mother knows nothing of this boyfriend.”
“My mother has not spoken to me in nearly a year!” Erin protested. “She has no idea what I am doing or who I am seeing, and it’s none of her business. I just…” She hesitated, and when she spoke again, her voice was a little softer, more tremulous. As if she suddenly was reminded of the stakes of this call. “I just didn’t want anything to happen to keep me from getting across the border as fast as possible. My boyfriend will be no trouble.”
Zander’s brows shot up, but Erin’s gaze wasn’t on him anymore. Instead she was staring at the far wall. Another long pause, then the voice was back. “Check into the Camino Real once you’ve crossed over. We will contact you then.”
The phone clicked off, and Erin sagged back, her hand dropping away from Zander’s grip. He was up just that quickly, and now it was his turn to pace the room in short steps. “The Camino Real, okay, okay. Not my first choice, but it will do.” He shook his head, talking to himself, even though Erin kept watching him, he could tell. “Yup, it’ll do just fine.”
For her part, Erin stood, wobbling only slightly on her feet. He glanced over as she smoothed down her hair, taking in her oversize T-shirt and yoga pants. She looked achingly young, all of a sudden, and he frowned at her, the gap between them suddenly seeming too wide once again. Too much time had passed, he thought. Too much wasted time.
She rubbed her face, then met his gaze, oblivious to the gloomy turn his mind had taken. “I can be ready to go in twenty minutes,” she said, and Zander nodded.
“No rush. Check in isn’t until early afternoon, even in Mexico. Besides, we have an eleven A.M. appointment with our new driver.” He smiled at her startled expression. “Relax. I decided a driver who knows the area wouldn’t be a bad idea. And a driver who is known by the border guards is even better.”
Erin got it. “They won’t check our car.”
Zander shrugged. “That’s part of it. But mainly, it’s just that getting a driver is the safe, sensible thing to do. And we want to look like we’re both very safe and sensible, and maybe a little scared. Everything is going exactly the way it should be. You’ve told the kidnappers all that you need to, and they’ve shown us that your mom is safe and healthy enough to sound faintly irritated, but not completely freaked out.”
Erin nodded, clearly seeing his point. She’d been smart enough to catch the same thing—how normal her mom had seemed on the phone. Scared, sure, angry…but not hurt. Not desperate. That was a very good thing.
Erin’s next question distracted him. “So how did you find this driver? Is he just some random guy?”
“Pretty much,” Zander said. What she didn’t know in that department wouldn’t hurt her. “Sort of a friend of a friend.”
She eyed him, and a little more of her composure was back, her smile wry. “You have friends?”
“More than I realized.” He held up a hand to forestall her questions. “Not something you need to worry about, though. We’ll get across the border by early afternoon, and be at the hotel before check-in. Right on schedule.”
“Fine.” She blew out a small breath, and Zander felt his interest stir despite his conflicted emotions. He’d kept his hands to himself quite deliberately for the rest of last night, and had also kept the conversation light, sure. But he wasn’t the only one suffering from the push-pull of their mutual attraction, not by a long shot. Might as well keep it on her mind, as much as it was on his.
“You gonna be okay taking a shower on your own?” he drawled. “Or d’you think you’ll need protection in there?”
Erin’s startled gaze shot to his, then her eyes flashed annoyance as she realized he was teasing her once again. She paused only long enough to flip him off, and he grinned, watching her go into the bathroom and shut the door. The moment it was closed, he hit the phone again.
An hour and a half later, a bag of breakfast sandwiches between them—one more than either of them could eat, plus a coffee that was still only slightly south of scalding—Zander bumped his car into a half-full lot of a Walmart, maybe ten minutes away from the airport they’d flown into the day before. The day was hot and dry, and their rental left a plume of dust behind them as he moved up and down the scorched rows, looking for what he wanted. Erin kept checking the dash, and he flicked a glance there as well. It was just now coming up on eleven A.M., but they had plenty of time.
“This is where we’re meeting the driver?” she asked dubiously.
“It’s his day off. He’s doing it as a favor for us.” They pulled in a few car lengths away from the vehicle Zander had been told to expect, a Dodge minivan with Texas plates, ordinary as mud. What was a bit less ordinary was the man leaning up against the van, seemingly oblivious to the hundred-degree heat. Nothing like August in Texas.
Erin saw him at the same time Zander did. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Hola!” The man waved energetically as he noticed them, his big grin splitting a face warmed by far too many summers in the sun. He wore a brightly flowered shirt, complete with a more or less white wife beater underneath, and banged-up cargo pants not that different than the ones Zander had left behind in Boston. His hair was long, his face was tanned almost to the color of the red-clay dust on the car beside him, but he was young, definitely in his twenties. And he looked exactly as Zander had been told to expect. He appreciated that.
Zander got out of the car and shook the man’s hand without preamble. “Reymundo Torres?”
“In the flesh.” The man grinned. “But call me Rey.” He glanced into the car. “No need to get out, ma’am, I’m joining you.” Erin, of course, got out anyway. Torres gave Zander a quick nod as she came around to greet him, and Zander felt a little of his tension ease. Finally, he felt like they weren’t going into this thing blind. He stood back as Erin stopped in front of Torres, not missing her confused glance.
“You’re the driver?” she asked, as if she was having a difficult time processing the idea, and Torres gave her a jaunty salute.
“I’m the driver.” He nodded. “Taking you to all the most excellent ports of call in Laredo and Nuevo Laredo.” He patted the
hood of their rental. “And best of all, I drive the car you already have. So no new forms to fill out, eh? Just consider me along for the ride.”
—
Erin narrowed her eyes at the driver, who returned her gaze with a steady-eyed certainty that belied his easy grin. “And how do you guys know each other, again?”
“We have mutual friends,” Torres said easily. “But make yourself comfortable, yes? The trip over the bridge is painless, but there are still sometimes lines.”
Erin hesitated another moment, then followed Zander around the car to the passenger side, sliding into the backseat as Zander took the shotgun position. Something wasn’t quite right here, but she hadn’t figured out the undercurrents yet. Still, Zander seemed in control of the situation, and that’s what she was paying him for. She frowned about that. They never had discussed his fee, and she suspected there would be no fee, honestly. But right now, she needed to focus on getting her mother out of trouble. The rest she could handle, one way or another. She’d always handled it, right? She’d always been the responsible one.
While she silently stewed, Zander and Torres didn’t seem to have any problem carrying on the conversation without her. Within about twenty seconds, they were jawing back and forth about some racetrack in Fort Worth, and Erin found herself relaxing despite herself in the wake of their enthusiasm. Zander’d always been like that—never met a stranger, never met a problem he couldn’t take on with a grin and a leap of faith. Probably the first time she really knew she was in love with him, he’d made a leap like that. He’d also put her on notice that one day, almost certainly, he’d make a leap that broke her heart.
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