Bad to the Bone

by Wendy Byrne

“’Cause you’re a bad boy and that’s just what they do.” She scooted down his torso so that her vagina aligned with his dick. And everything fell into place.

  Every square inch of Sammie’s body felt alive as Enrique inched inside her. It felt like years since they’d made love. Then there were the kisses that made her head spin.

  “I’m feeling at home inside you.” His fingers sneaked between them to touch her as he slid in and out, in and out. “Why did we stop having sex?”

  She had no idea. He wasn’t playing fair as he zeroed in on flicking her clit until she was almost there and then backing off. Her entire body coiled in anticipation of the release he wasn’t giving her.

  “Cat got your tongue?” In deference to his words, he slid his tongue inside her mouth while his fingers danced along the indent at the base of her spine where all the nerve endings converged.

  Her hips surged against him whether she wanted them to or not. Any control she might have had shattered, along with any illusions that she could deny him whatever he wanted.

  Gentle waves lapped against their bodies in contrast to the immediacy of the moment. He reached between them, getting her off in record time. He followed suit seconds later, losing control, landing them both underwater with her on top of him.

  “Damn, that was smooth,” he muttered as they sputtered to the surface.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Sex in the water is kind of tricky, isn’t it?”

  “And even trickier if someone finds us here.”

  That was more than enough incentive to spring to her feet and race for the shore, with him trailing behind. The only good thing about this fling—, besides the incredible sex, of course—was that there was a built-in end to it. Regardless what happened with Jack’s trial, she’d be headed back north. There’d be no awkward breakup. She’d go back home and gradually this tingly feeling inside her chest would dissipate as distance put an end to things.

  For now, she could definitely enjoy the time they had together.

  “I have sand in places that I didn’t know existed.” She slipped on her clothes.

  His eyebrows rose. “Care to show me any of them? You are a walking, talking bad girl with a tattoo. I think you should further your bad reputation and let me inspect you.”

  “Believe me, you’ve seen everything I have. I’m sure there isn’t a spot on my body you haven’t seen.”

  “I can think of a place or two.”

  The noise of the festivities filtered back through the silent night as if miles away. Sammie felt so peaceful and relaxed. Enrique was right about his promise to make her forget her troubles.

  “Back to our original discussion, I believe I’ve never kissed that spot under your arm. Or the one behind your knee. Then again there’s that freckle you have on the inside of your right thigh. There’s all sorts of uncharted territory yet to be discovered.”

  “I think we need to leave that exploration for another day.”

  His lips set up residence outside her ear. “We are so good together,” he whispered.

  The idea that this would come to an end churned inside her chest. But that’s what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Enrique tried to ignore how convoluted the situation was. She lied to him, and he lied to her, while they had more heat between them than a five-alarm fire.

  She sucked in a deep breath. The paranoid part of him worried what she was about to say.

  “I’ve spent more than one lifetime running from place to place, never knowing where I’d be sleeping at night. I vowed once I was old enough to be in control, that would never be the way I lived.”

  “What happened?” He spotted the hesitant look in her eye as she contemplated whether she should continue.

  “My parents were young when they had me. They got into drugs, and if it wasn’t for Jack, God only knows where I would have ended up. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s sad.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. I might not have had the ideal childhood like you did, but it was good. Jack always made sure he picked up the ball when my parents dropped it. Mom and Dad might be passed out or high, unable to come to my school play or pick me up, but Jack would always be there.”

  He opened his mouth to respond but then heard his name being called. “Let’s finish getting dressed before they get here.”

  Just as she slipped into her skirt and he zipped his pants, one of the locals came around the corner of the sand dune.

  “We’ve been looking for you two. Everyone’s been wondering if you’ll sing another song.”

  Enrique slid an arm around Sammie’s shoulders as they walked together toward the party. The sangria hadn’t run out, so he snagged a glass for both of them. They sat on lawn chairs, holding hands and watching the fireworks. Neither one of them seemed motivated to speak. As for him, he let the moment settle around him, even knowing this sensation would be short-lived. After indulging in more song requests, around two in the morning, people started to disperse and make their way home.

  “Come on Sammie, let’s go to bed.”

  Pulling at his arm, she stopped his progress inside the door. “I want to finish telling you about my family. Maybe then you’ll understand how this thing between us is so doomed to fail it should have hazard lights around it.”

  “I get what you went through. I don’t need the gory details.” He’d seen enough neglected children during his years he could easily picture her life growing up.

  She shook her head. “I used to wish every night Jack was my father and my parents weren’t around.”

  Pain reflected in her eyes as they started to mist over. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she fought with emotions.

  “You don’t have to do this, Sammie.” Uncomfortable with her revelation, Enrique shifted onto the bed and pulled her down beside him. He didn’t feel like he deserved to hear her story when he’d yet to be honest with her.

  “I have to make you understand why I act the way I do. Why I’m so committed to Jack.” She breathed in deeply and continued. “Jack was the calm in the storm that made up my existence. You could say I always had a chip on my shoulder. I wanted to be like everybody else but never felt like I fit in. I didn’t make many friends. I got into more fights than I can remember. I would spout off no matter what the consequences. Eventually I learned to channel some of that frustration through martial arts, but that wasn’t until much later.”

  “What happened to make Jack live with you?” Enrique suspected the reason, but he didn’t know if she’d tell him.

  “My mother and father had a volatile relationship. One time Jack came to check on me, and my parents were passed out on the floor. I was standing on a chair, cooking myself some breakfast on the stove. I think I might have been six at the time. It’s a miracle I didn’t burn the place down. From then on, Jack moved in. My parents disappeared for long stretches of time and finally disappeared for good. Rumor has it they’re in South America, but hell if I know or care where they are.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. Enrique kissed at the salty wetness, feeling her sadness seep into his soul.

  “I’m so sorry, Sammie. I wish there was something I could do.”

  “Help me figure out who set up my uncle. He’s all that I have.”

  A painful stillness invaded his chest, squeezing the last shred of impartiality. He had to help her, even if it meant she learned he was the one who’d had her uncle arrested in the first place.

  Things were getting too complicated. Enrique wanted to come clean with Sammie. She wanted honesty, and he’d done nothing but lie to her from the first day they met. After they’d showered off and settled in bed, Enrique had time to get his head around their situation. Sure, he could offer her what she wanted. But was he ready for a real relationship again? And did he absolutely, 100 percent trust her?

  But if he did, would it matter? She couldn’t wait to leave Florida. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere els
e. It was his home. His lifeblood. Everything he would ever be was intertwined in this state—the palm trees, the intoxicating aromas of the ocean breeze and fresh citrus, even the perpetual humidity were all an integral part of him. To separate himself from his family and friends, from a place that meant so much to him, would never be possible.

  He thought about losing Sammie. He knew for sure he was ready to take the next step. But when he thought about Teresa and the physical and emotional pain involved in her betrayal, the whole thing brought on a wave of nausea. Nagging thoughts of his ex caused his hesitation. Deep-rooted insecurities prevented him from letting his guard down.

  He thought for sure he couldn’t evade the inevitable when Sammie asked about Teresa. Now he felt like shit inside thinking of deceiving her one more time with his simple answers.

  He tossed while Sammie fell instantly to sleep.

  How could he justify the fact she’d purged her soul to him, and he’d remained silent?

  She might never speak to him again, but he couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer.

  When Enrique checked his phone in the morning, he found out that somebody had been in his apartment around midnight, tripping his secondary alarm. Watching his back had been second nature for a long while, but he’d never had occasion to worry about it until now.

  Since Mel hadn’t called or texted him, either the people in his place knew how to get around the sophisticated system, or they were part of the DEA, which had helped him set up the alarm. Neither option made him feel much better.

  Not exactly how he’d intended to wind up this getaway with Sammie.

  Thankfully, it was a long ride back. On the bike, there couldn’t be much conversation, and he could pretend that she’d understand everything he had to tell her. Betrayal. Mistrust. Deceit. They would all be somehow washed away with a few well-spoken words from him.

  Yeah, right.

  Two and a half hours later, after pulling up in front of the bar, Enrique got off the bike then helped her off.

  She took out her key to unlock the bolt. They made it as far as the front door before they were interrupted by Jack’s attorney, Jonathan Crane.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Sammie. There are a few things I wanted to talk with you about.” He glanced to Enrique. “It’s important.”

  Enrique’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Mel came in:

  We need to talk.

  Shit.

  Her face pinkened as she glanced from Enrique to Jonathan and then back again. Enrique figured between the two of them, they looked like a before and after picture. Covered in dirt from head to toe after riding a couple of hours on his bike near the sand and water, he must look pitiful. In contrast, Jonathan looked squeaky-clean. Even his teeth sparkled.

  “Is it about Jack?”

  “In a way.”

  Jonathan eyed Enrique suspiciously. Good for him. If he only knew Enrique was using every ounce of willpower to keep from tackling him to the ground and beating him senseless just because. Not that it would do any good. Frustration about Jonathan was only the tip of the iceberg. His rational mind knew that well. The irrational part was the one that scared him.

  He wanted to know who the hell had been in his apartment. And if it had anything to do with what Mel had to say, but he also wanted to know what the hell Jonathan wanted with Sammie. She probably figured he was more her type, being a professional rather than a bad boy like she’d pegged Enrique to be.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Enrique, but it’s attorney-client privilege. It wouldn’t be right if I spoke in front of you.” Jonathan sniffed his disapproval or distrust; Enrique wasn’t sure which.

  That was fine. Enrique didn’t much like the looks of him, either. The damn fool was so perfect he probably even ironed his underwear.

  Sammie flushed and looked at Enrique. She fiddled with her hair. Backing down wasn’t easy for him.

  She sucked in a breath and looked at him. “Enrique—” The smile on her face appeared phonier than the breasts on an exotic dancer. “Thanks for everything.”

  He didn’t fucking believe this. She was trying to get rid of him. Didn’t that beat it all. Wouldn’t it serve her right if he asked if that included screwing her brains out last night? Sure, it was juvenile, but for some reason his brain wasn’t functioning like a rational adult’s.

  Even though he had a temporary reprieve from his confession, he didn’t like the fact this Jonathan guy was hanging around and using Jack to draw Sammie into his bullshit. Not that Sammie couldn’t protect herself against him, but this thing between them remained unfinished. Maybe this was better. He’d come clean after he got everything he needed from Mel.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket again.

  Now, Enrique. It’s important.

  His blood went cold.

  “I’ve got to go anyway.” He swooped in and gave Sammie a kiss, marking his territory like any self-respecting guy would. “I’ll be back early with dinner.”

  “Sounds good.” She touched his hand, then turned toward Jonathan.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “That Enrique guy is a little possessive. That display he put on a few minutes ago…really, that was a little over the top.” Jonathan stared at Enrique as he rode away.

  “He’s Spanish and Italian. It’s all part of the machismo thing. I think the Latin men have perfected it. But it means nothing.” She couldn’t help the shaky tone to her voice.

  “Well, I don’t trust him.” He bit off a laugh. “But maybe that’s because I’m a lawyer. I don’t trust anyone.”

  After offering Jonathan some coffee, Sammie perched on one of the seats around the stainless steel island counter. While her mind was preoccupied with Enrique, she not so patiently waited for Jonathan to be forthcoming. “What’s going on? Do you have information about Jack?”

  “Nothing definite, but I’m pretty confident Jack was set up. My guess it was by the undercover cop, but I need a bit more time to get what I need on that.” He cupped his hands around the mug and made himself comfortable on a stool.

  “Do you have the name of the DEA officer?”

  “Not yet, but I’m getting closer. I’m meeting with a guy later this afternoon who says he knows all about the undercover cop that handled your uncle’s case. Word is he’s dirty as they come, and my guy has enough proof to nail him.” He smiled at her. “Believe me, I want the best for you and Jack. And I’m confident this is all going to work out.”

  “Thanks again, Jonathan. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “I might stop in tonight if I have some time. Hopefully I’ll have some good news for you.”

  “That would be great. Looking forward to it.” She closed the door behind him and sighed. She could only hope they were finally getting to the bottom of her uncle’s troubles.

  …

  Enrique parked down the street from the diner and peeked inside. Something about the urgency of Mel’s text set off all kinds of warning bells. Between that and the break-in at his apartment, it was too coincidental to dismiss. If he hadn’t allowed this thing with Sammie to distract him so much he would have been on top of this.

  Mel sat in his usual spot and appeared to be alone. No one outside looked suspicious, but he couldn’t shake the feeling creeping up his back.

  After grabbing a coffee he sat down. “What’s up?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but didn’t think he succeeded. The one person he didn’t want to disappoint looked like that was exactly what he’d done.

  “Bad news. The order to search her place in Rhode Island finally came through. It was filled with drugs, plus a boatload of money.”

  Enrique sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Enrique.”

  He held up his hand. “No, don’t ‘Enrique’ me. Think about it. She’s been in Florida a couple of weeks and just lets the drugs sit around her apartment in Providence, not to mention money she needs to bail her uncle out of jail? Awful
ly convenient.”

  “I’ll agree it seems fishy, but we have to follow protocol on this.”

  “Because of my history?” His temper went from simmer to full boil. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? And they went into my place as well, didn’t they?”

  He hadn’t checked the data yet, but it made sense. The guilty look on Mel’s face only confirmed what he knew.

  “I didn’t know anything about it until after the fact. But I’ve got to tell you there were some drugs found at your place as well.”

  “That’s bullshit. If there were drugs there, somebody planted them.”

  “Exactly. Which points back to Sammie Murphy. She stayed at your place, didn’t she? Maybe she brought them in with her. The techs didn’t find any fingerprints but yours and hers.” He held up his hand when Enrique started to protest. “Hear me out. She’s been itching to find out who the undercover was on this case and suppose she found out it was you. She sets you up, and she gets her uncle a free pass, simple as that.”

  “That only means that whoever planted the stuff at my place used gloves.” Panic began to surge inside him. What if he was wrong about Sammie? He couldn’t think about that now. It would only distract him. “What comes next?” He knew where this was headed: a full-blown inspection of all his cases to check for misdeeds. Considering the last couple of years of missteps and second-guessing himself, he had a very good idea of where this was headed.

  Although Teresa was in jail, nothing he could do shook her loose from his memories. Was Sammie another Teresa, just a sanitized version who didn’t use drugs but sold them to the highest bidder?

  “When are they going to come get me?”

  “They want you to come in willingly by the end of the day. Turn in your badge while they go over things.”

  “Are they going to arrest her?”

  “Right now they want to put the wheels in motion and talk to you first. They want to make sure the case is solid. I imagine an arrest warrant will come after that.” Mel shook his head. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  “Yeah, well…shit happens, doesn’t it?” Enrique walked outside and dialed Jared. He needed somebody to help him wade through this bullshit, and if anybody could help him with that, it was Jared.