“To gain your trust. Why did you?”
“To get rid of you!”
“I don’t like being played, Kari.”
She placed a hand over her chest, sputtering. “Aren’t you playing me?”
“I followed you home the first day we met,” he admitted, inclining his head. “I saw Chuy Pena leave your house, and I know who he works for. It’s pretty fucking ironic that you would accuse me of dishonesty.”
Kari recoiled in shock. She couldn’t believe he’d known the whole time. Every visit he’d made to the store had been calculated. Every conversation he’d initiated had been an attempt to collect information.
“The innocent act is wearing thin, bella. Did you come here to scold me for lying, or is there something else you want?”
She moistened her lips, deliberating. This could be her last chance. If she didn’t ask for his help and ended up in jail, she’d have a long sentence to regret her decision. “I want you to wave me through at San Ysidro.”
He didn’t even flinch. “No.”
She turned her face away in shame, appalled by what she’d just done.
He put his hand on her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. CBP officers have rotating stations, rotating shifts. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be at the vehicle booths at a certain time.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling stupid.
“Tell me why you need a wave-through.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I wish I could.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I know you’re not a criminal by choice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you’re a terrible liar. It’s only a matter of time until you get caught.”
She met his gaze, tears spilling down her cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumb, and she tasted salt on her lips. “I’m sorry for using you,” she said, lifting her hand to his. “If it’s any consolation, the sex wasn’t … premeditated.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No,” she said, swallowing dryly. “And I loved every second of it.”
He parted her lips with his thumb, his eyes darkening. After a brief pause, he surrendered to temptation and covered her mouth with his. She moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily.
Kari experienced the same buzz of sexual energy he’d created the first time they kissed. Her desire for him drowned out every negative thought, every niggling concern. Her body took over her brain, driving her to seek more friction, more sensation.
His hand slid down her neck, his thumb stroking the hollow of her throat. She practically purred around his tongue, her nipples tightening against the bodice of her dress. He pushed the skinny strap off her shoulder, revealing most of her left breast. Breaking the kiss, he did the same to the other side, baring her upper body completely.
She put her arms down, letting him look.
“You have the most beautiful tits,” he said, cupping their soft weight. After rubbing his thumbs over the tips, he dipped his head to taste. She clutched the arm of the couch, gasping while he took one taut peak into his mouth, then the other. With each pull on her nipple, her inner muscles clenched and her sex ached. He slid one hand under her dress, along her thighs, and she spread them eagerly, inviting him to touch.
“I thought of you in the shower the other night,” she said, breathless.
His head lifted. “Really?”
“Yes. I fantasized about you … kissing me.”
He cupped the front of her panties. “Where?”
“There.”
Groaning, he laved her nipples and traced the cleft of her sex with his fingertips, grazing her through the damp fabric. She pictured him kissing his way down her belly and moaned. Wanting to feel his skin against hers, she tugged on the hem of his shirt. He jerked the T-shirt over his head and pushed her skirt up to her waist, preparing to take off her panties.
“Wait,” Kari said, stilling his hands. She wanted his mouth on her, but not yet. Reaching down, she molded her palm around him, feeling his erection through the denim. “In my fantasy, I did it to you first.”
He stared at her. “You fantasized about going down on me?”
She nodded, biting down on her lower lip as she squeezed his turgid flesh. She hoped he didn’t think she was too forward. The idea of pleasuring him before she’d had any relief made her squirm with arousal. “Can I …?”
To her delight, he didn’t seem capable of denying her. He stood abruptly, tugging at the buttons on his fly. She slid off the edge of the couch, kneeling in front of him.
He freed his erection for her, his eyes glittering with desire.
With a shiver of excitement, she curled her hand around him, stroking his length. He was hard and thick and perfect. His gaze moved from her naked breasts and clenching fingers to her ready mouth. When she moistened her lips in anticipation, he made a strangled sound and plunged his hand into her hair, bringing her closer.
Adam seemed to know what she wanted sexually. He was a nice guy, but not too nice. That dangerous edge excited her.
She touched her tongue to him. Soft licks at first, wetting the tip. He tightened his hold on her hair and she drew him into her mouth, letting him guide her up and down. When she moaned, deep in her throat, he relaxed his grip. They continued like this, mesmerized. His gaze followed the wet slide of her mouth. Hers stayed on his face. Although she was doing all the work, the pleasure wasn’t one-sided. Her sex throbbed with every heartbeat.
Then he tensed and pulled her hair, but not in a good way.
She lifted her head questioningly, catching a glimpse of movement by the front window. It was dark in the room, and the blinds were drawn, but they weren’t closed all the way. The person standing by the door had seen what they were doing.
Ian was grounded.
He’d told his superior about Chuy’s accusations and the subsequent drug use, but he hadn’t mentioned Maria’s daring rescue. Instead, he said he’d stumbled away from the hotel and nodded off on a park bench for a few hours.
A dirty test was unacceptable for a DEA agent no matter what the circumstance. Twenty years ago, undercover officers had been given more leeway to blend in with the seedy world of narcotics sales. Now, even simulated use was frowned upon. Today’s agents didn’t mess around with small buys or penny-ante dealers, either. That’s what informants were for.
Most agents used informants to set up a buy with a major dealer for a one-time sting. The problem with that tried-and-true method was that Moreno ran a notoriously tight crew. His top guys were untouchable.
Chuy Pena had been on top a few years ago. Something had created a rift between the kingpin and his minion. Moreno had sent Pena to the Hotel del Oro as a punishment and now used him as an errand boy. Pena was no longer involved in the higher-level operations. Although cocaine and methamphetamine were the drug lord’s bread and butter, Pena had been put in charge of heroin sales, a smaller trade.
But Pena was an ambitious bastard, and he’d found his way back into Moreno’s good graces. He’d thrived in the black tar business. The Hotel del Oro was turning a profit. And Pena had a new drug connection south of the border.
If the alliance flourished, Chuy Pena was poised to become the leading heroin distributor in San Diego. For whatever reason, Moreno stayed away from opiates. He was letting Pena take the lead in this endeavor.
So the San Diego police department was wise to keep an eye on the situation. Ian had been directed to watch the hotel, collect intelligence, and foster a relationship with Chuy Pena. It was a high-pressure, open-ended assignment. His apartment and weekly buy budget were major expenses for the DEA. Results were expected.
He hadn’t delivered.
Chuy had put a gun to his head, practically calling him out for being a cop. It was a surprising charge, because informant spies were far more common. Ian knew the situation was dangerous, but he hadn’t realized how savvy Chuy was.
>
For now, the undercover portion of his assignment was on hold. His current duties included surveillance, surveillance, and more surveillance.
The Breezy Shade apartments, his home base, were sandwiched between two other tall buildings that blocked any hint of breeze. A pair of towering eucalyptus trees out front offered very little shade. There were plenty of shady people living here, however. The complex also boasted a direct view into the courtyard at the Hotel del Oro. From his apartment window, Ian could watch customers coming and going from Chuy’s office. He had a front seat to the parking lot and laundry facilities. He’d witnessed countless drug deals and room cleanings. The constant hustle and bustle contrasted sharply with his inertia.
If he’d been confined to a wheelchair, he couldn’t have felt more claustrophobic. He was supposed to take frequent breaks and not work more than twelve hours per day, but he couldn’t go anywhere.
“Fuck,” he said, moving away from the window. He hated this shithole apartment. Instead of punching a hole through the wall, he threw himself down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes felt strained, the sockets aching. Playing video games was out of the question. It was too early to sleep.
His thoughts drifted toward Maria, the only bright spot in recent existence.
She’d used his cell phone the other night. He’d made a note of the number she’d called, but hadn’t followed up on it. Obsessing about her wasn’t helpful. He needed to get his head back in the game.
Before he’d managed to scrub her beautiful face and slender body from his mind, his cell phone vibrated.
He took the phone out of his pocket, squinting at the numbers on the screen. It was a landline, easy to trace. “Who is this?” he demanded.
“Maria. From the hotel.”
As if he wouldn’t know which Maria.
“I need to meet with you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I’m busy.”
She was silent for a moment. “I know who you are.”
Ian experienced a falling sensation, as if the mattress had been dropped out from under him. Fuck, fuck, fuck! This was the last thing he needed. The words she’d said at the hotel came drifting back to him: I speak English now.
Not only had she recognized his face, she remembered their conversations in the hospital. Although his Spanish had been awkward, the communication between them hadn’t felt stilted. They’d always … understood each other.
“What do you want?” he asked, his heart racing. She could put the nail in the coffin of his undercover assignment.
“Just to talk. There is a restaurant I can walk to. Big café, yellow sign.”
“Denny’s, on Grand?”
“Sí, eso. I will be there in one hour.”
He agreed to the time and hung up, walking to the kitchen table to open his laptop. Entering the phone number in a database, he waited for it to generate a name and address, drumming his fingers on the table.
When the information appeared, he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Rubbing his weary eyes, he refocused and read it again: Karina Strauss, 1410 Calle Obregon, San Diego, CA.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, mapping the address and committing the information to memory. Kari Strauss was the subject of Adam’s most recent fixation, the pretty owner of Zócalo, sister of Carlos Moreno’s girlfriend.
Adam had mentioned a dark-haired roommate who was “more Ian’s type.” She was his type, all right.
And maybe his downfall.
Kari gasped, scrambling to her feet. The man outside stepped away from the window, hovering near the front door.
Cursing, Adam fumbled with the buttons on his fly.
“Who is it?” she whispered, fixing her dress.
“My brother-in-law.”
She stared at Adam, horrified. He put his shirt back on and went to the door, letting the man inside.
“Sorry, dude,” he said to Adam. Then to Kari, “I didn’t see anything.”
Kari closed her eyes, wanting to disappear.
Adam introduced her to his sister’s husband, Brian. He seemed as embarrassed as she was. A curvy, dark-haired woman entered the house behind him, her high heels clicking on the front walk.
“I thought you were going to wait in the car,” Brian said.
“If both kids are asleep, I’ll have to carry one,” she said, catching sight of Kari. “Hello there.”
“Kari, this is Raquel.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she murmured, her cheeks flaming.
Adam’s sister was gorgeous. Her hair was a little mussed, as if she and Brian had also been having a sexy time. But they were married and in love. She had a diamond ring on her finger and a telltale bump in her tummy.
In contrast, Kari felt like a … hoochie.
“Did we interrupt something?” Raquel asked, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Raqui,” Brian said, trying to shush her.
She ignored him. “How long have you and Adam been dating?”
Kari fought the urge to wipe her mouth. “Not long.”
“Where did you meet?”
Adam intercepted Raquel’s question, rescuing Kari. “She owns the store where I bought you that baby thing.”
“The rebozo? I loved that!”
“I’m glad,” Kari said, picking up her purse. “Congrats on the new baby. Your children are angels.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, resting her head against her husband’s shoulder. “I hope we’re not running you off.”
Kari inched toward the door. “Not at all,” she lied. “I was just leaving.”
Adam exchanged a glance with Brian, who cleared his throat.
“Great to meet you,” Kari said, making her escape.
Adam followed her out. Jogging to catch up with her, he wrapped his hand around her wrist, his eyes pleading. “Wait. Please.”
She didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene by jerking her arm from his grasp or running down the street, so she let him detain her. “I’m so mortified,” she said, covering her face with one hand.
“Don’t be. He won’t say anything. I’m sure he didn’t really see—”
She peeped between her fingers, gave him an annoyed stare.
He winced, scrubbing the back of his neck.
“I was servicing you with her children in the house, Adam.”
“Those kids sleep like rocks. It was fine.”
“She must think I’m a total slut.”
“No way. You own a successful business, and you’re not drunk. She’s already planning our wedding.”
Kari didn’t know if it was the stress of the situation, but they both started laughing. Adam put his arm around her and she leaned on him, giggling uncontrollably. Brian and Raquel came out of the house a moment later, each carrying a sleeping child. To Kari’s relief, they buckled the kids in their car seats and waved goodbye.
“I bet they think we’re going to go back inside and finish.”
Adam smiled. “Aren’t we?”
“No!”
He laughed again, knowing damned well that Raquel and Brian’s interruption had ruined the mood. “I’m sorry,” he said, sobering. “I should have been paying more attention to the front door, listening for their car. It didn’t occur to me that Brian might glance through the blinds before he knocked.”
She blushed, shaking her head. In a way, she was flattered that he’d been so intent on her that he’d forgotten everything else.
“My sister can be really nosy. She didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay.” Kari wouldn’t see any of Adam’s family members again, so the incident didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
“Where’s your van?” he asked, glancing around the neighborhood.
“I took the bus. More incognito.”
His brows rose, but he didn’t say anything. They stared at each other for a moment, acknowledging the strange context of their relationship.
&nbs
p; Relationship?
Well. Whatever it was.
“I’ll drive you home,” he offered.
She accepted with a nod. The part of town he lived in was quiet and middle-class but not the best place for a single woman to be walking around after dark. She hadn’t planned to stay at his house so long.
He grabbed his keys and led her toward the garage. His car was midsized, a basic black, clean and sleek but unpretentious. She could tell that he took care of his belongings, and suspected that he owned the home. On the surface, he was a responsible, respectable guy. Underneath, he was a hard man with a tragic past.
He held the door open for her.
They fell into a charged silence on the way to Kari’s house. She had so much to think about, so many questions to consider. Would Adam notify his superiors that she’d asked him to let her pass through? Should she tell him about her sister’s debt and repeat what Sasha had said about Chuy Pena?
If he truly couldn’t help her, there was no reason to meet him again.
He pulled into her driveway ten minutes later. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, reaching for the door handle.
“Hang on a sec.”
“What?”
“Am I going to see you again?”
“Why, so I can get you off?”
A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Maybe if you’d tell me what you’re involved in, I could help you.”
“You already said you couldn’t help me.”
“No, I said I couldn’t wave you through. There’s a difference.”
She glanced away, feeling cynical. He wanted two things from her: sex and information. And if they hadn’t been caught in medias res an hour ago, they might not be having this conversation.
He cupped his hand around her face, meeting her eyes. “I like you, Kari. I like spending time with you. Under any other circumstances, I’d want to get to know you better. But the smuggling thing is kind of a deal breaker.”
He said the last sentence with a smile, and she couldn’t help but smile back. Damn him for being funny, along with devastatingly handsome and killer sexy. There was no defense against a man this appealing. “I have a lot to think about,” she whispered.
He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “Can I kiss you goodnight?”
Caught in the Act Page 16
