Courting Trouble: Running with the Devil Book 6

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Courting Trouble: Running with the Devil Book 6 Page 7

by Jasmin Quinn


  She was lucky he was driving. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Strutting your stuff in that bar without knowing what the fuck was going on. You’re lucky Ruiz is on the top of the food chain!”

  “So what? Some other fuck would have grabbed me and dragged me out to the alley. You would have pistol-whipped him and we would’ve taken off. What’s the problem?”

  She wasn’t getting it. She wasn’t getting how afraid he’d been. She wasn’t getting how furious he was when he saw her in Ruiz’s arms. He had to make her understand. But not now, not here. He grabbed his cell as he drove, tapped out a number with one hand, then waited until the call was picked up by Franco Leguizana. He growled into the phone. “I’ve got your guy. Ready to hand him off. Where and when?”

  Hugo was all business, Franco responded in kind. “Two hours, behind Dotty’s Casino on the 604. You know where?”

  “I’ll find it. Payment?”

  “Transfer ready to go. Once we have our boy, I’ll push the button.”

  Hugo ended the call. He wasn’t worried about being cheated. He’d done a few things for the cartel in the past. They paid up. He looked over at Olivia. She was pissed, back ramrod straight, jaw tight, eyes staring straight ahead, frown on her pretty face. He flashed back to the alley, her lips locked on Ruiz’s and he gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

  The hand-off went well. He shoved Olivia’s hat on her head and told her to stay put as he rolled up next to two seriously tough Mexican hombres. Leguizana, the one he always dealt with, asked about Olivia.

  “New partner,” Hugo grunted. “She’s cool.”

  “She available?” Hugo stared him down. Leguizana lost his grin.

  They hauled Ruiz from his jeep to the waiting car. The money transfer was verified and he and Olivia were on their way out of Vegas. If Hugo never saw sin city again, he would die a happy man.

  “Where’re we going now?” Olivia asked, but Hugo was still too pissed at her. He didn’t answer.

  She didn’t ask again.

  Two hours out of Vegas and the two hadn’t said a single word to each other. Hugo was still stewing, Olivia seemed to know to keep her mouth shut. It was getting later in the day. Hugo hadn’t slept for what? 30 hours? Maybe longer. He was getting punchy and needed to pull over. He’d hoped to make it to Twin Falls, Idaho before he stopped, but the lack of sleep was catching up with him fast.

  He glanced at Olivia. “Gotta pull over in Alamo. Need to get some sleep.”

  Olivia looked over at him, her baby blues settling on him, stroking him. Fuck, even through his anger, she made him horny.

  “I could drive,” she said.

  “A stick?”

  She frowned as her eyes settled on the gear shift then out the passenger side window. “No. Guess not.”

  It was late in the afternoon and once they were there, Hugo figured Alamo was as good a place as any to spend the night. No one knew where they were or where they were headed, except maybe Creed. But Creed wanted them out of town so Hugo thought they’d be safe for a while, at least a few hours so he could catch up on some sleep.

  He pulled into the Alamo Inn, got a room and carried his bag in with him. Olivia trailed behind with her backpack. He wasn’t talking to her and she wasn’t talking back. It was strained. The room was like any other motel room in small town Nevada. Two queen beds, a bar fridge, a coffee maker and a bathroom. Good enough.

  He dropped his pack in the corner and his ass on the bed, kicked his boots off, letting them thud to the floor and drew his T-shirt over his head before pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and tossing it to Olivia, who deftly caught it. “Gotta sleep for a couple of hours, Liv. Get some food and a half dozen beer for us. Don’t use the credit card.” Then he dropped down on his back and was out.

  CHAPTER 13

  Olivia stood in the hotel room, an awkwardness stealing over her as she watched Hugo thump down on the bed and kick off his boots. He threw her his wallet. “Gotta sleep for a couple of hours, Liv. Get some food and a half dozen beer for us. Don’t use the credit card.” Then he dropped his head to the pillow, slung the back of his hand across his forehead and fell dead asleep.

  She opened the wallet and drew in a small breath. Holy, a lot of bills in it. Fifties and hundreds, but a few small bills too. More than she’d seen in a long while. Maybe never. But she wasn’t tempted. She was a good girl and she liked to live by good girl rules. That meant she didn’t take what wasn’t hers and didn’t take advantage, even when she could.

  It would be easier and smarter to use the little bills in a town the size of Alamo so she pulled a couple of twenties out and set the wallet on the dresser exchanging it for the room key. The heat hit her again as she stepped out of the motel room and closed the door softly behind her. First thing she was going to do when she got back was take a long cool shower. That bolstered her reserve.

  As she walked to a near-by diner, she pondered Hugo’s anger. Tony wasn’t like Hugo at all. He never got mad at her. They had their fights, sure, but it was over the bullshit stuff, like forgetting a birthday (he forgot hers twice!), being unforgivably late (all the time). Shit like that. She wasn’t sure he even noticed the way other men looked at her. Well, he noticed, but there was no hint of possessiveness in him. Not like Hugo.

  Which made her confused again. She didn’t quite get Hugo.

  He wanted to get married. Almost pushed her into it. That was strange and she was glad she found the backbone to say no to him. Not that it wouldn’t be grand to be married to a guy like Hugo, but for how long? She hardly ever told anyone she’d been married and widowed. She wanted to erase her marriage to Tony, wished it never was.

  She’d always wanted the works in a marriage, a husband who loved her, a nice little house, maybe a garden. She wanted some babies. Just a couple. It was never going to happen with Tony. She knew it when they married, but she still had to try. She was carrying his kid, but when she lost the baby, she lost any promise that her marriage was going to be a happy ever after.

  He was gone more than he was home anyway. She didn’t know where he was, what he was doing or whether he was fucking around on her. Even if the marriage was doomed, it still hurt like crazy. She wanted him to love her, wanted him to want her. Even just show a little interest in her when he was home. But it never happened. He used her like she was his fucktoy, pushed her around to get what he wanted, then ignored her most of the rest of the time.

  She couldn’t do that again. She wouldn’t do it again. Hugo was a possibility, sure. A guy who made her heart beat faster, her panties wetter. But that would happen to any woman who looked at him. He was that hot. It wasn’t how she felt about him that mattered anyway, it was how he felt about her. She wanted his heart to beat faster when he looked at her. She wanted him to want her in a way he’d never wanted any other woman before. Maybe it was all just romantic bullshit, but it’s what she wanted and she didn’t want to settle again.

  She walked into the diner, which was attached to a gas station and took a seat in a booth. A young girl with black dyed hair and a nose ring came up to her with a menu. Olivia smiled at her, the girl didn’t smile back. Fuck the unfriendlies. “Where can I get a six-pack of beer?” She flipped open the menu, scanned the options, dropped a finger on the sandwiches.

  The waitress motioned with her head towards the gas station. “Next door.”

  “’Kay. I need six sandwiches, beef, bacon, ham – no fish or egg. Not toasted. Wrap them up to go. I’ll be back in five.” She stood up and walked out, not waiting to see if the waitress had questions. She could be as bitchy as the next self-important girl, she thought.

  In the gas station, she found the beer. Picked up a half-dozen cans, added some chips and cookies to the mix and a dozen powdered cake donuts. She loved those little buggers for some unfathomable reason. The sandwiches were ready and waiting when she returned to the restaurant. She paid for them, left a good-sized pity tip and made her way b
ack to the hotel room.

  Hugo was snoring softly when she entered, hadn’t moved since she left, didn’t move when she put the beer and sandwiches in the fridge, the change on the dresser. He was on his back and Olivia was able to assess him unfiltered. He was tall, 6’4, she guessed. Lean, but not thin. Hard and brawny. A good scattering of hair on his tanned chest that darkened as it trailed away into his jeans. Muscular, hairy arms that made her belly riot like a nun at a stripper’s convention.

  The light brown hair on the top of his head was thick and unruly and her fingers itched to run her hands through it. He had a good start on a moustache and beard, more from neglect than intentional. He hadn’t shaved in a few days she figured. His jeans hung loosely on him, but the bulge at his crotch was unmistakable. From what she could see, he was a big man everywhere. It made her body tingle and her mouth water.

  She forced her eyes away from him as she picked up her pack and went into the bathroom. The hotel room was air conditioned, but she was still sticky from heat and sweat and wanted to wash Ruiz’s stink off her. Even if it was a shitty hotel room, it was still a luxury for her. She was in-between jobs, in-between homes. She tried not to be prone to self-pity, but the universe could be such a fucking asshole sometimes.

  After she showered, she pulled on a clean pair of panties and her only other T-shirt, a long, loose tank that doubled as a night gown most nights. It fell to about mid-thigh. She felt refreshed, cool, ready for a sandwich and a beer. Ready for Hugo to wake up and smile at her.

  As she left the bathroom she saw that Hugo was awake, leaning against the headboard, can of beer in hand. His eyes stroked her as she padded over to the fridge.

  “Get enough sleep?” she asked, trying to sound casual even though there was nothing casual about the way he was looking at her. To maintain a modicum of modesty, she crouched down rather than bent over as she opened the fridge. She heard Gwen’s voice in her head. Girls that give it up too easily don’t get respect. Keep your panties on and your tits covered. Gwen should have been a poet, Olivia thought.

  “Some,” he said.

  She peered into the fridge and dragged out the six-pack… well five-pack now. “Want another?” She pulled one from the plastic tab and lifted the rest towards him.

  “Yep,” he said. She grabbed a second one and put the remainder back into the fridge. She handed him off a beer and sat on the side of the bed opposite. He took the can, put it on the night table, then reached for her, his big hands wrapping her wrists up in them. As she fell on him, he rolled her over his chest to the other side of the bed. She landed on her back, unopened beer can clutched between her fingers as he hovered over her.

  “Whoa, Hugo.” She tried to sit up but he flattened her with his hand to her chest. He relieved her of the beer can, reached across her and dropped it on the floor.

  “Down payment time,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers.

  That hurt, and she almost lashed out at him. Fucker! But then why would she expect anything else? Her mind flew through the various options: fight him, give in to him or be a bitch about his assholishness. She decided on option three. She dropped back on the bed, lay looking up at the ceiling. Well would have, if his head wasn’t blocking the view, so she looked up into his eyes instead, trying to sear him straight through to his core. “Have at ‘er,” she said as casually as she could muster.

  He pulled back. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means exactly what it means. Since you don’t do charity cases and we have an agreement, I’m all yours. Don’t be shy. I’ll just lay here and take it.”

  He growled, his eyes narrowing.

  CHAPTER 14

  Don’t be shy. I’ll just lay here and take it.

  Hugo was not impressed. She was playing a game with him. He should just take her the way she told him to. Pull up on top of her, drop his cock inside her pussy and fuck her ‘til he came. He could play her silly little game. Except he wouldn’t. His ego wouldn’t let him – it was a source of pride with him. Satisfaction guaranteed, each and every time. She was going to love fucking him whether she wanted to or not. So he didn’t kiss her, not yet. But he also didn’t back off. He pulled her T-shirt up her body and over her head. She let him, acting like she was boneless, flopping around like a rag doll.

  Ah fuck. Her breasts were full, firm and perfect. Pale skin, tanned bikini lines, dark nipples. He looked from her chest to her face. She didn’t look back. She lay still, eyes staring up at the ceiling, arms at her side. He grinned. Her eyes flickered a little as she caught it in the periphery of her vision, but she maintained her composure. Hugo loved a challenge, although he already knew that she wasn’t going to be too hard to best.

  Still, he wasn’t going to be coy. After all, she told him to have at ‘er. Who could resist such a provocative offer? He gripped her thighs and pushed her legs open, kneeling between them, looking her over. Her curves were just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, well except for her eyes, her lips, her voice, her… um, yeah. His thumbs were itching to hook under the sides of her little black panties, so he let them, drawing the panties away from her hips, over her luscious ass, and down her shapely legs. Nice and slow though, inch by inch as he backed up until he was standing. Then he munched the toes on her right foot, shoving them all into his mouth and giving them a good suck before he tugged the panties over her gorgeous feet and shot them across the room like an elastic band. That caught her attention for a second, as her eyes followed the trajectory.

  He was already hard as stone as he undid his jeans and yanked them off. She still wouldn’t look at him, just lay like a ragdoll, playing her game. Too bad. Hugo was a fucking sight to behold naked and she was missing out on a few big surprises. He almost laughed. His favourite thing about sex was watching a woman’s desire for him build and he was good at stoking the fire. If it were an Olympic sport, he’d win gold. Olivia wasn’t gonna to know what hit her.

  He knelt between her thighs, flattened his palms on the mattress on either side of her shoulders and hovered over her blocking her view of the ceiling. He stared into her eyes and she had no choice but to stare into his. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he kissed her lips, soft, sensually. She didn’t kiss him back. He chuckled. She scowled.

  He didn’t kiss her again. Not yet, not until she begged him.

  He drew his lips to her neck and dropped several small kisses across it, then to the dip in her throat, which he lapped at gently with his tongue before moving to the other side of her neck, nuzzling it. He heard an intake of breath as she closed her eyes and pressed her hands into the blankets. Her hard nipples brushed against his chest. Yep, she was responding.

  He drew his lips down to the hollow between her breasts. Breathed her in. She smelled as beautiful as she looked and he felt himself getting harder. Growing. Wanting inside her. But not yet. Not until she begged him.

  He drew a nipple into his mouth, gently, too gently he knew. Teasing her, making her want more. Then he brushed his tongue across the nipple, pulled it between his lips and rolled his tongue over it as it went rigid. He drew it in deeper, suckled it, softly at first, then more pressure, and then harder until he heard her sharp intake of breath. Until he heard her gasp.

  He moved a hand to the mound of her breast and squeezed it, massaged it with his fingers, all the while still using his lips to keep the nipple paying attention. Her breasts were perfect, they fit his hand like oversized gloves. They were made for him. He thrilled at the thought.

  He withdrew his lips from her nipple, replacing them with his thumb and finger, teasing it as he moved his mouth to her other nipple. Equal attention, but a bit more impassioned, going quickly from gentle teasing with his tongue to all out sucking. It would hurt a little he knew and as she shifted slightly, he sucked harder until he heard her moan. But he didn’t stop. Torture was good under the right circumstances, so he kept at it for a full half-minute, feeling her body stiffen under him, feeling her almost grab at him. Th
en he eased off, but his hand held her breast keeping his fingers steady as he worked her nipple.

  He moved his other hand down her body, dragging his fingertips over her belly to the tangle of hair on her pussy. He loved that she was completely natural. It was who she was, the most beautiful woman in the world, perfect for him. Then he checked the thought. Wondered how crazy it was, then checked that thought too as his hand made its way lower.

  Her wetness betrayed her and thrilled him. His cock jerked. He wished she would stop the bullshit and touch him, but then he also didn’t. He wanted to watch her try to resist him. Wanted to see how long she could hold out. His fingers stroked her folds, then touched her clit, probing, circling it. He listened carefully to her breaths as he touched her, heard a quickening as he found a sweet spot. Her sweet spot. Every woman had them, every woman was different. He found Olivia’s and he exploited it, playing with her clit, listening to her trying to contain her little mews, noting that her hands had tightened on the blankets, her fingers grabbing the fabric, a little bit of trembling. He abandoned her nipple as he looked up into her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut, the look of determination on her face warring with her passion. She couldn’t see it, but it made him grin. He was beating her at her game.

  He kept an even stroke on her pussy, not speeding up, not applying more pressure. It would make her crazy because it would only take her so far. Just a little more though, a little lower, to her vagina, teasing the opening oh so gently before sliding a finger into her blissful wetness. She squeaked at the invasion, so he upped the ante and shoved another finger in, pushing at her tightness. It made his cock moan as loud as she did, her breathlessness forced out between her lips. Another sweet spot inside and as he hooked his fingers and rubbed at it, she jerked. Ah, fuck. It was becoming too much.

  He had the sudden urge to taste her, thought she’d be as sweet as honey. He pulled his fingers out, reached his arms under her thighs and circled them with his biceps, holding them steady as he opened her further to him. He brought his head between her thighs, his tongue across her folds and savoured her essence.

 

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