PaintedPassion

by Tamara Hunter

  “Not tying them gives the impression you couldn’t be bothered.” She positioned the other string to lie over his left thigh.

  His quadriceps flexed in response to her touch.

  “Don’t move.” She hurried back to the canvas.

  He held the pose, the constant swish of the brush inviting his mind to wander. He clenched his jaw, remembering the softness of her skin as he’d dried her body.

  “I was a coward.”

  Say what? Had he zoned out? He blinked, bringing himself fully alert. “What?”

  “You asked me why I never painted Louis. I couldn’t do justice to him.”

  What the hell did that mean? He wanted to ask but felt if he did, she’d clam up. Each time he made progress in breaking through her defense, she built another obstacle.

  Lost in his thoughts, he started when Trella tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Need a break? Your shoulders are tensing.”

  He rotated them. “Guess so.”

  She climbed onto the bed behind him. “Relax.”

  Her seductive scent floated around him. She stroked his back, her small hands kneading the tension from his muscles. He closed his eyes, fighting the desire to touch her.

  Her hands circled his waist, and her breasts pressed against his back. He hissed at the contact, the heat of her body warming him. His breaths sounded loud in the silence. Trella ran her nails over his scalp, and he gritted his teeth. She lifted his hair from his nape, lightly kissing from ear to ear, and he admitted defeat. His head may care that she was using him to feel better, but his body didn’t give a damn.

  She slid a firm thigh over his lap, straddling him. His eyes shot open as the hot, damp heat from her center threatened to melt the cotton of his pants. From the way she circled her hips against the ridge of his erection, he wasn’t the only one searching for relief. The scent of her arousal sent his rocketing off the charts.

  He was a goner. All he wanted was her. He cradled her face between his hands. “If we take things further, you can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I won’t let you believe we’re betraying Louis by making love. And that is what we’re doing, Trella. We’re not having sex. We’re not fucking. We’re making love.”

  He didn’t move as he gave her a minute to change her mind. He prayed she didn’t. He’d never forced himself on a woman and wasn’t about to start now.

  A small hand swept down to hold him in a tight vise. “Don't make me beg.”

  Her whispered words unleashed his frozen limbs. Holding her around the waist, he leaned back, lowering them onto the bed.

  She laced her fingers with his then pulled their arms above his head. She captured his lips, taking charge of the kiss as she eased her tongue inside his mouth to mate with his.

  This woman. Her taste. If she only knew the power she had over him… His restraint dissipated with each soft, questing demand of her lips. He groaned, hips lifting upward to seek more contact.

  “Want me to stop?” she muttered against his mouth.

  After several seconds, the small amount of blood remaining in his brain registered her question. “No.”

  Scooting off him, she eased the pants down his legs. “Commando. Interesting.” She tossed them onto the floor.

  Bending, she put her mouth on one of his nipples. The hot, wet suction caused his abs to clench.

  “Trella!”

  She switched her attention to the other one. Every repeat of her action caused a corresponding phantom tug on his cock.

  She regained her position on his lap, sandwiching his erection between them. She worked her hips in a circle as he clasped her waist.

  He needed to be inside her. Now. Damn…his condoms were downstairs. The sobering thought blunted the haze of desire. “Baby, I don’t have any condoms with me.”

  She stopped moving, disappointment visible on her face.

  “It won’t take a minute to get one,” he reassured her.

  She thrust against him.

  He gripped her waist. “If we aren’t going any further, you need to give me a minute.”

  With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she slid to her knees on the floor, her arms rubbing up and down his thighs.

  She reached up and placed a forefinger against his lips. “For you.”

  He sucked Trella’s finger into his mouth. She indulged him only a moment before pulling free with a soft pop. She encircled his thickness and squeezed.

  Hissing, he tightened his abs, his cock pulsing in her hands. She kissed the tip of his dick. A groan erupted from him. She licked his length in long, wet drags. So good. She sucked the tip between her lips. Gasping, he watched as inch by inch of him disappeared until her lips touched the hair at his base. He curled his toes. She slowly released him. A pearl of liquid glistened on his tip, and she licked it off with a hot swipe of her tongue.

  His breathing became more uneven, and he held her hair to one side, his eyes glued to her every movement. She swirled her tongue around then down his length, over and over, varying her speed each time, slow then fast.

  Up.

  Down.

  Around.

  Carlos had long since lost the power of speech, and his grunts and groans filled the room. His hands roamed through her hair and down her shoulders.

  She released him, and he thought she would allow him a reprieve, but she pushed his thighs farther apart. She buried her face against his pubic hair, rubbing her nose back and forth as if memorizing his scent. With a naughty smile, she lifted her head. Her hot, wet tongue connected with the flesh behind his right knee, and he jerked in response. He held his breath as she treated his other knee to the same. If he could’ve said anything intelligible, he’d have promised her everything he owned. He dragged in his breath as she kissed up his thighs.

  She licked the juncture of his groin and thighs. He groaned, and she pushed his thighs farther apart.

  At the first touch of her mouth on his balls, he moaned. If it were possible, he grew harder. He opened his eyes. Seeing her head between his legs was a sight he knew he’d never forget. He wanted to make the moment last, but watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth broke him down. His legs trembled.

  “Suck me harder,” he panted. Every cell of his body strained toward completion.

  She encircled the weeping tip with her hand, swiped the slit, licking at his pre-cum.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “I love the way you taste.” She glanced up at him and grinned.

  Before he could respond, she leaned down and encircled the head of his cock with her mouth, then worked her lips down his length, squeezing the base with her hand. When he thought it couldn’t feel any better, she relaxed her throat and took more of him.

  “Estrella!”

  His body tensed as his orgasm rolled over him. Streams of fluid shot from him, and she swallowed every bit. She released him from her mouth and stroked his thighs as aftershocks rippled through him.

  When his movements ceased, she slid up his body, causing Carlos to hiss at the friction of her nakedness against his.

  Cradling her face, he brought her closer and kissed her, his tongue delving deep into her mouth. He sucked her tongue, tasting himself, and he groaned. His cock twitched.

  He released her lips, smoothing her hair from her face.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “I should be thanking you. You’ve been right about everything.” She rubbed the springy hair on his chest. “I want to be with you whenever we want.”

  His hand slid down her back to rest on the rounded curve of her bottom. “And wherever?”

  “Yes.” She nibbled softly on his bottom lip. “I can’t promise more.”

  His lids lowered. “It’s a start.”

  She shook his arm. “I know you aren’t falling asleep on me.”

  “Not my fault you have me so relaxed.”

  She swatted his thigh. “Tell me something.”

  “What?” he answered drowsily.

  “Why do yo
u call me by my first name when we’re…uh, together?” She wriggled against him, her breasts teasing his chest. “You use my name when you’re about to…”

  Opening his eyes, he rolled her onto her back. “Don’t be shy about saying certain words with me. I’ve seen your—”

  She squealed. “I get the point. But why do you call out ‘Estrella’ instead of Trella? You use Trella all the time.”

  He bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “I didn’t realize I’d used your formal first name. You drive me to distraction, woman.”

  Caressing his chest, she laughed as he growled against her skin.

  “I like the sound of my name when you say it,” she admitted.

  He rolled onto his back, his arms flung out to his sides in complete surrender. “Now can I nap?”

  She stood at the foot of the bed. “Nope, the guys’ll be here soon, and my pussy needs attention.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carlos led Jackson, Donovan and Jose into the kitchen, where Trella served quesadillas, spicy black beans and homemade salsa. Secretly, he figured it was her way of dealing with the memories of feeding the guys when they would come over to work on a case.

  “Thanks, I’m starving.” Jackson settled into a chair at the kitchen table, immediately picking up one of the triangular-shaped tortillas.

  Donovan and Jose joined Carlos at the table, while Trella and Miguel settled onto nearby stools.

  At Carlos’ urging, Trella recounted Hector’s conversation.

  Fury showed on every man’s face when she finished talking.

  “The bastard,” Jackson spat.

  Miguel reached for a quesadilla, but Trella slapped his hand away. Without a word, she slid a plate of sliced tomatoes, cottage cheese, fresh basil and a plump grilled chicken in front of him. He grimaced but didn’t complain.

  “You locate any concrete information?” Donovan said.

  Carlos tossed photos onto the table. “Found a folder with a list of properties owned by a corporation and limited liability companies that Rodriguez’s partnership owns interests in.”

  Jackson fanned through the information. “These are all rentals?”

  “That’s what we need to find out.”

  “Hmm.” Jose frowned. “Drop houses would explain the large number of real estate holdings.”

  Trella paused in the middle of picking up a quesadilla. “Drop house? You mean as in—?”

  “A place to stash illegals until further payment is received,” Jackson said.

  Carlos stroked his chin. “I don’t want you guys accessing the computer systems. I’ll have my agents do it. I don’t want to jeopardize your jobs. No telling how far Rodriguez’s influence reaches.”

  “What's the plan?” Jackson asked.

  Carlos paced the floor. “Visit each location, see if anything looks suspicious, but don’t case the joints. I want your general impression of the place and the area. No uniforms.”

  “Hector probably has a lot riding on the success of this shipment.” Jose warned.

  “Meaning?” Miguel speared a slice of tomato with a fork.

  “There may be folks watching the places. They don’t need to get a good look at us,” Jose said.

  “What about bringing Immigration and Customs in?” Donovan asked.

  Carlos shook his head. “If ICE investigates, someone may tip off Rodriguez and put Trella in more danger. We have to consider the implication of the fact that this operation has thrived despite a crackdown at the borders, which means there may be more eyes and ears than we’re aware of.”

  “If we want, my contact at ICE will keep an investigation on the down low. Especially if there’s the potentiality of a city official involved in the matter.”

  Trella pointed at a photo. “What’s that?”

  “An old warehouse.” Carlos scooped the photos off the table then handed them to Jose. “Any luck on lifting prints from the package Trella received?”

  Jose frowned. “We weren’t able to lift any fingerprints other than yours, Trella’s and Miguel’s.”

  Stifling a yawn, she rose to her feet. “You guys enjoy as much food as you want.” She shot Miguel a glare. “Except for you.”

  Miguel pouted.

  She stood behind Carlos, one hand resting on his shoulder. “I hope you guys don’t mind excusing me. I need a nap.”

  Choruses of “no problem” echoed through the kitchen as Carlos refilled his plate. When he regained his seat, Jackson slapped Carlos a high-five.

  “A nap? You’re the man.”

  “You wore her out,” Donovan joked.

  “Stop. That’s not what she said.” Though he protested, Carlos found it impossible to keep a grin off his face.

  “You two seem cozy,” Jose added.

  “She’s like a sister, so you better not hurt her,” Donovan added.

  “Did you see her point at the warehouse where Louis was killed?” Jackson asked.

  When she’d looked at the photo, Carlos had wondered if she remembered. She’d seen the place only once…when she’d insisted on viewing the site where Louis lost his life.

  “I was hoping she wouldn’t ask for a closer look.”

  Donovan banged a fist on the table. “Rodriguez has to pay for what he’s done.”

  Carlos looked at the men, one at a time, secure in the knowledge each one of them had Trella’s best interests at heart. Satisfied, he nodded. It would take all of them to bring Rodriguez’s operation down.

  * * * * *

  With Carlos checking various properties Hector owned, Trella entertained Melissa and Selina the next morning around the pool. They lay on lounge chairs, soaking up the sun while Trella filled them in on her recent trip to Vegas.

  “Who’s Bambi again?” Melissa asked.

  “Carlos’ friend with benefits,” Selina offered.

  Melissa slid a pair of large black sunglasses onto her nose. “Is she still in the picture?”

  Trella sighed. “He says no, but at some point, he’ll return to Vegas. Long distance relationships aren’t for me.”

  “Love’s a risk, no matter where the man lives, chica.”

  “Who said it was love?”

  “Isn’t it?” Melissa asked.

  “No,” she said sharply. “I mean, we’ve grown closer.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s a fancy way of saying he’s seen your birthday suit.”

  “Selina!”

  “I knew it. You didn’t deny it. No harm. I don’t know how you lasted this long. If I had his fine ass under my roof, I’d have hung a Do Not Disturb sign on my front door.”

  Trella laughed at Selina’s silliness, already feeling the stress melt away.

  Selina fanned herself. “Take a chance. Carlos is a good man. And did I mention sexy?”

  “Yeah, but maybe I’m caught up because he’s staying here and is accessible.”

  Melissa eyed Trella over the top of her glasses. “No way could I concentrate while painting the man.”

  “It was hard work.”

  Selina smirked. “Bet it wasn’t the only thing hard.”

  “So, how was he? Worth waiting for?” Melissa asked.

  Trella didn’t bother keeping a smug smile off her face. “Definitely.”

  Selina clapped a hand against her thigh. “I knew it. The sparks between the two of you at the birthday dinner gave it away.”

  Trella swatted her friend’s arm. “We weren’t intimate then.”

  Selina smirked. “Yeah, but you wanted to be.”

  Melissa rubbed sunblock on her arms. “I think Carlos realized who he wants and kicked ‘ole Bambi to the forest.”

  “You just want Trella to keep Carlos around so he can hook you up with Jose.”

  “True, but so what?” Melissa shrugged. “You’re not interested in him. You don’t even know what type of man you want.”

  Selina grinned. “I’m happy playing the field. Besides, my career’s hot. I can’t focus on a man.”

  Melissa
left the chaise to sit on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. “What happens after your show?”

  “I suppose Carlos will return to Vegas.”

  Selina joined Melissa. “So it’s just great sex?”

  Though he’d called it making love, he didn’t love her. It wasn’t his M.O. Men like Carlos preferred light, unencumbered encounters. Shifting on the lounger, Trella sighed. “Yep…just great sex.”

  * * * * *

  Carlos traveled down the street he hadn’t been on since the day Louis died. He slowed the Jeep to a stop in front of the warehouse then cut the engine. He pulled the ball cap lower on his head. Donovan, Jackson and Jose were checking out other locations on the list he’d found in Rodriguez’s home.

  Weeds grew unchecked along the front of the large, box-style building. Two rabbits hopped around near the curb, unconcerned about his arrival. Several hundred feet away an identical dilapidated building sported boarded windows.

  The past washed over him like the unavoidable desert heat. The sounds of that fateful day reverberated through his mind—the heart-stopping pop of a gunshot, feet running, shouts for help, emergency sirens.

  A lunch delivery van approached on the opposite lane. Carlos slid farther down in the seat and adjusted the polarized sunglasses he wore just as the vehicle passed him. He observed it in his rearview mirror as it continued down the street to the entrance of a construction company.

  He waited several minutes then climbed from the vehicle. Wiping a hand down his face, he strode toward the double steel doors.

  He twisted the doorknob. Locked.

  He walked around the building to the rear and stopped, immediately noticing the glass panes appeared newer and not as dusty. He inched closer, peering inside. No stacked barrels cluttered the floor.

  He walked farther down then peered in a window again, seeing the door Louis had tried to access. It stood wide open. He continued walking around the building, trying every door he passed, but all were locked.

  He observed the area for a few more minutes before returning to his vehicle. As he drove away, he had the feeling he was missing something. If the warehouse functioned as a drop house, why was there no evidence of anyone living there? Had Rodriguez included the building on the list by mistake?