Authors: Tamara Hunter
“You’re doing that now.”
In one smooth move, he rolled until she lay on her back. He
braced his weight on his forearms. “One long, hot shower coming up.”
He rose to his feet then removed the condom. In the bathroom,
he turned on the water. He returned to the bedroom. Scooping his hands beneath
her back, he picked her up.
“You’re light as a feather. We need to hurry and put some
weight on you.”
She swatted his shoulder as he carried her into the
bathroom. “Excuse me?”
“The way I see it, if we’re expending this much energy each
time we make love, you’ll need to gain a few pounds.”
Trella swallowed. “Don’t call it that.” She wriggled against
him, and he set her down. “We aren’t making love, Carlos.”
Feeling oddly put out by her declaration, he met her gaze in
the mirror. “What do you think we did?”
She shrugged. “We had sex.”
He laughed. “If it makes you happy, we’ll use whatever label
you want.”
She nodded, a broad smile on her face as she stepped into
the shower.
He followed. He’d never experienced a connection that
touched his entire being before. Surely she didn’t believe the magnitude of
what they’d shared was anything short of making love. He understood her
apprehension. She was frightened. His response to her scared him a bit, too,
but he wasn’t running from it.
She was putting up walls again. Too bad he knew all the ways
through them.
Carlos awoke as soon as the sky lightened the room. He lay
wrapped around Trella’s warm body. They hadn’t slept much. He’d reached for her
time after time in the middle of the night. Each time he came, he believed his
desire for her was sated, but whenever he looked at her he hardened for her
again.
He was under her spell and falling deeper every day. Despite
her reluctance to consider their activities as “lovemaking”, her soft whispers
and touches spoke louder than she knew.
Carlos brushed a hand from below her breast to rest on top
of a rounded hip. He’d never been one to pursue a long-term relationship with a
woman, but Trella made him entertain the idea of a future with her.
He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her
tantalizing body again, but if he hurried, he could catch the guys before their
weekly basketball game. Unwilling to disturb her, he slipped from the bed. Long
lashes lay against her cheeks, while her plump breasts played peek-a-boo with
the sheet each time she took a breath.
He left a note on the nightstand before giving her a kiss on
the cheek. Downstairs, he took a quick shower then dressed.
Carrying the framed painting from last night, he climbed
into his Jeep.
Twenty minutes later, Carlos arrived at the city park. He
cut the engine then climbed out. Donovan and Jackson pulled up behind him. Jose
stood on the court, dribbling a ball.
“Can’t believe you haven’t play with us since Louis died,”
Jose stated as Carlos joined him.
“Yeah, you just had to go take a job in Las Vegas.” Jackson
joked.
“Yeah yeah, it’s my fault.” Carlos nodded at Donovan. “Me
and you, Don, against Jackson and Jose.”
Jose threw the ball out first. Carlos tried to steal the
ball from Jackson but misstepped, allowing Jackson to score an easy lay-up.
“Vegas made you soft.” Donovan chided him. “My wife is more
of a challenge than you are.”
Carlos’ lips tightened. “Haven’t played in a while is all.”
“Great. And I have to be your partner,” Donovan grumbled.
The longer they played, the more at ease he felt on the
court. They traded points for points, but at the end, his team won by two.
Donovan awarded him with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“You’re the shit, man.”
Carlos didn’t stop a grin from creasing his face. He’d
missed the camaraderie with the guys.
Jose handed him a bottle of water. “Why are you hanging
around Trella?” he asked in his typical blunt fashion.
Carlos tipped the bottle, allowing the liquid to quench his
thirst. “Protecting her. The way Louis asked me to.”
Jose shot him a hard look. “I saw the way you looked at
her.”
His jaw pulsed. “Let it go.”
“Take your own advice,” Jose returned.
Carlos waylaid Jose with a hand on his arm. “Are you warning
me off?”
Jose shook his head. “You always did like challenges. She
interested in you?”
Things were new with Trella, and he didn’t want to mess them
up because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Hell, man. What do I have to offer
her?”
Jose gave Carlos an appraising look. “Maybe you’ve already
given her what she needs.”
“Stop with the enigmatic statements. You can bet one thing—I
won’t lose her to Rodriguez.”
Jackson joined them. “Did I hear the good councilman’s
name?”
“Yeah, he’s interested in Trella,” Carlos answered.
Donovan strode toward them, ball in hand. He grinned, a
knowing gleam in his eyes. “Is she attending the dinner at his house tonight?”
Carlos frowned. “She hasn’t mentioned it.”
“My wife’s cousin works in his office. I was contacted to
provide security at his place, and the guys are up for a bit of extra work.
Jose filled us in on Louis’ suspicions. Look, man, if you happen to slip inside
while we aren’t looking, we can’t stop you.” Donovan shrugged.
Carlos shook his head. “I don’t want you guys involved if
anything goes down.”
“The moment Louis was shot, we became involved,” Jose chimed
in.
Jackson nodded. “We’ll be on patrol. You get in the house.
Do what you have to do.”
Carlos crossed his arms in front of him. “Thanks, man. All
of you.”
“BB5, bro.” Jackson stretched. “Sorry to run, but I’ve got a
shift today.”
“Me, too,” Donovan added.
Carlos watched them head off the court, leaving him with
Jose. “Nothing turned up on the phone trace, did it?”
Jose absently dribbled the ball. “The person is using a
disposable cell.”
“What about the license plate?”
“Unless the vehicle you saw was a silver ’05 Toyota Tacoma,
the tag wasn’t legit.”
Carlos blew his breath out in a rush at the news of yet another
dead end. “Wasn’t a truck.” He tossed his empty water bottle into the trash.
“Got something else I need you to check into.”
He retrieved the painting from the passenger seat and filled
Jose in on how the picture was delivered.
Jose gave a low whistle. “You want this official?”
“As off the record as possible.”
“Gotcha.”
“Miguel and Trella handled it, but there might be a useful
fingerprint somewhere.”
Jose cleared his throat. “How well do you know Melissa?”
Carlos patted him on the back. “Trella mentioned she saw
sparks between the two of you. Guess she was right.”
Jose elbowed him. “Give me the facts.”
“Single. An RN. Will rip you a new one faster than you can
say her name.”
“Our futures are entwined.”
Carlos let the comment pass, trusting whatever vision Jose
experienced. He’d keep the tidbit to himself, though. If he mentioned it to
Trella, she’d no doubt start planning a wedding.
Jose nodded. “Watch yourself at Rodriguez’s. You know what
it’ll mean if the man spots you.”
He grinned. “Yep. I’ll feel the full weight of the
councilman’s power.”
* * * * *
Carlos placed the glass of lemonade on the kitchen counter.
He stared out the window but didn’t appreciate the beauty of the sun setting
over the mountains or the twinkling lights dotting the valley below.
He drummed his fingers on the granite surface. Trella was
hiding. By the time he’d returned, she was painting. He’d let her know he was
back but otherwise didn’t interrupt. When she didn’t come in for a break, he
knew something bothered her.
Carlos wiped a hand along his nape. Registering a sudden
change in the environment, he turned around to discover the subject of his
thoughts wearing a tan t-shirt streaked with paint splotches and a pair of
khakis, which he’d come to think of as her uniform. His body stirred with the
memory of caressing her soft curves.
Trella opened the fridge, studied the contents then removed
a gallon of tea. She filled a glass and added some ice.
“Hector invited me to a dinner tonight at his house.” The
words were uttered with no emotion whatsoever, as if she’d spent the day
practicing how best to diffuse a volatile situation.
With his back against the counter, Carlos crossed his arms
in front of his body. She couldn’t face him, yet she had no problem going out
with another man? Anger rose inside him, but he reined it in.
“When did he call you with the invitation?” he asked,
keeping his voice low and controlled.
“His assistant called while we were in Vegas.”
“And you’re remembering to tell me now?” Carlos sipped his
lemonade. “Why not last night…before you grew hoarse from calling my name?”
She sighed, still not looking at him. “It slipped my mind.”
He refused to let her off the hook. “Did you forget when we
discovered the painting? How about when you hugged the toilet?”
She sighed. “I meant to tell you.”
His frustration grew. “Looking for the right time?”
She nodded. “I knew you’d be angry, but Hector will be
suspicious if I cancel the day of the event.”
“Last night meant something, Trella.”
At least to me
.
She finally faced him. “Carlos, what happened between us was
fantastic. But I’m under no illusion it’s a lasting or a permanent thing.” She
shrugged. “I needed someone, and you were here.”
He stiffened, listening to her explain away their intimacy
as he had himself with women in the past. But hearing her say those same words
about him made him grit his teeth. “I was the closest man around. Understood.”
“You have Bambi. What else do you want?”
I want you
. The words stuck in his throat, his gut
telling him she wouldn’t believe him.
She downed her tea then placed the glass in the sink.
“Figures. You don’t know.”
“We aren’t done.” He ground out the words.
She put her hands on her hips. “Trust me, we are. I have
work to do, which doesn’t involve falling into bed with you.”
He brushed a hand through his hair. The gallery showing was
important to her. He should be focusing his attention on shutting down Hector’s
operation. Instead, all he could think about was her.
He placed his glass on the counter. “If you see me at
Hector’s house, don’t react to my presence.” He meant what he said about
keeping her safe. Having her in attendance threw a wrench in his plans, but the
guys would look out for her.
“What’s going on?”
“The guys are working security at Hector’s house.”
“And you’ll be…?”
“Finding out as much as I can about his dealings.”
She smirked. “You aren’t planning to irritate Hector with
your presence?”
“Sweetheart, if he knows I’m there, I’m not doing my job.”
He stroked his chin. “Tell me you don’t have an ulterior motive for gaining
access to his home.” His gaze raked her body. “Don’t intend to flirt with him?
No batting your eyelashes or flashing a bit of your soft, gorgeous skin?” He
took a step closer to her with each question until he stood toe-to-toe with
her. “No games at all?”
She licked her lips, drawing his attention to their
plumpness.
He rested his hands on her hips then tugged her closer until
their bodies were flush with each other. “Hector wouldn’t be human if the
thought of kissing you hasn’t crossed his mind. I’ve thought about tasting you
again all day.” He whispered the words into her ear then dragged his lips
against the exposed surface of her neck.
“I’m not planning to seduce him, but I can look around.” She
spoke in a sudden, breathy voice.
“I don’t like to share.” He slid a hand between them, drawing
the zipper of her khakis down. “You said we were only together because you
needed someone last night, and I happened to be around.” Before she uttered a
word, he slid a hand inside her pants, encountering soft cotton. “Well, I need
to have someone come on my fingers, and you happen to be available.”
He slid the crotch aside. She stiffened as he stroked her
clit.
She moved against him, the wetness between her legs
increasing.
He sank two fingers inside her pussy. “All for me?”
A spark of defiance appeared in her eyes, and she lifted her
chin. “It would happen if anyone touched me.”
Chuckling, Carlos removed his hand. “You’re adorable when
you lie.” He sucked his fingers into his mouth. “And tasty.”
Trella’s teeth worried her bottom lip. “Are you stopping?”
“Do you want me to?”
She pushed against his chest. “I don’t care what you do,
Carlos Diaz.”
“Your body disagrees.” He returned his hand between her
legs.
She stiffened against him. He stroked her clit with the pad
of his thumb while he wet his fingers with the abundant honey from her pussy.
She trembled, clutching his shirt.
He groaned. “So responsive.”
He kissed her, coaxing her mouth open. She tangled his
tongue with hers, and he pulled away.
“You want more don’t you?”
She didn’t respond.
“Answer or I stop.”
She glared daggers at him. “Yes.”
He eased a third finger inside her. Her lids slid closed.
“Open your eyes.”
Her lids fluttered open but closed again. “I can’t.”
“Keep them open, sweetheart. Watch me please you.” Eager for
relief, his cock throbbed against his jeans. His hand stilled. “Do it or I
stop.”
“Please,” she panted.
Her body was soft against him, open for whatever he
provided. He groaned, holding himself rigid. He wanted to rip her clothes off
and sink inside her.
The sounds of her wet pussy welcoming his touch pushed his
need to sink inside her higher. Her fingers tightened against his biceps, nails
digging into his flesh.
“I remember how good your pussy felt around me, so tight.”
He stroked the lips of her pussy, making them slick with her wetness before
easing his fingers inside her once again. He strummed his thumb against her
clitoris, driving her faster and faster toward completion.
“Car-los!” Her pussy pulsed around his fingers, and she
shook against him. She clutched his biceps, her nails marking his skin, but she
kept her gaze locked with his.
He kissed her, gently nipping at her plump bottom lip as her
breathing slowly normalized. He slid his fingers from her panties then zipped
up her pants. “I don’t play around with what’s mine.”
Trella stiffened. “I’m not yours, Carlos. I belonged to
Louis.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You reminding me or
yourself? Louis isn’t the one making you feel this way. Sooner or later, you’ll
have to stop hiding behind him and deal with me.”
With as much dignity as she could muster, Trella sidestepped
him. “Hector’s car’ll be here soon to pick me up.”
Upstairs, she closed the bedroom door. In the bathroom, she
stripped then turned on the shower. She had to find a way to resist Carlos. Yes,
he made her feel sexy, and he knew how to make her respond. But it was just
sex. Sooner or later, he’d return home to Vegas and move on to the next woman,
and leave her yearning for something she’d never have again.