Bad to the Bone

by Wendy Byrne

  She rolled her eyes and tried to feign a sense of annoyance. “You are seriously starting to piss me off.”

  “We wouldn’t want that, would we? Especially since you finally agreed to a date.”

  “You caught me in a weak moment. And it’s Monday, so the bar’s closed tonight, and I’ve got nothing better to do.” She huffed out a sigh and fake nonchalance.

  “Be careful now. I’m going to get a big head if you keep showering me with compliments like that.”

  As much as she tried, she couldn’t hold back the grin. “Where are we going? Am I dressed okay?”

  Looking at him didn’t help her resolve. His dark sunglasses rested on the tip of his nose. His curly hair was pulled tight and secured at the back of his neck. The dark shorts and sleeveless T-shirt he wore didn’t help at all. She wanted nothing more than to spend the day with him. Damn her misdirected hormones.

  “It’s a secret, but you need a bathing suit and a towel. Scrap those boots. You’ll need to bring along a pair of sandals.”

  She glanced at him as she walked up the stairs. “I don’t do the ocean. I’ve seen Jaws, and I’m not getting near the water.”

  “You won’t have to worry about any sharks where we’re going.”

  “Except for you, right?” With that comment, she skipped up the stairs and threw together a bag of things. “Should I bring a lunch?” she called as Enrique waited downstairs.

  “I’ve seen what’s in your pantry, and I respect my arteries too much to indulge.” He leaned on the railing at the bottom of the stairs as she closed the door to her apartment. “Besides, there’s no microwave where we’re going to heat up the contents of the cans.”

  “Very funny. Maybe I was thinking of making a sandwich or something.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s even worse.”

  …

  So far, the day seemed perfect. And that was bad. She didn’t want to have a good time while her uncle was in jail. She should be doing something proactive, not cavorting with a drop-dead gorgeous stranger who was trying to seduce her. Instead of thinking about that, she asked the obvious question. “Where are we?”

  “Theater of the Sea.”

  “And that is?” She glanced around. The sun was high in the sky. A warm breeze curled around her, carrying the smells of the ocean. Even though she hated the heat, she had to admit this place was near perfect with its sandy beaches that went on for miles and the sky a shade of blue she’d never seen before.

  “It’s the only place in the world where you can swim with sea lions.” He came around the car to open her door.

  “And why would I want to do that?” She unbuckled her seat belt.

  Extending his hand, he helped her out. “Because they’re cute.” Enrique saying the word “cute” seemed wrong but right at the same time.

  “Do they bite?” She struggled to tamp down any unwarranted impulses.

  “Only love bites. Sort of like me.” He placed his hand at the small of her back, steering her inside.

  The resultant spike in her pulse rate was positively juvenile. “Oh, boy, am I in trouble.”

  She went into the dressing room to change into her suit and sandals. He was waiting for her when she emerged a few minutes later. The navy-blue swim trunks he wore complimented the deep olive tone of his skin. She tried to ignore his body, but within two seconds gave in to the lure. If she was going to be with the town’s most notorious flirt, she might as well enjoy herself on the road to hell.

  …

  Enrique figured he had to be all kinds of crazy to bring Sammie on this date to get to know her better. Working surveillance wasn’t good enough for him? He had to get up close and personal with his target? He had to be out of his freakin’ mind.

  Damn, he was a world-class prick.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked.

  What he should have said was, “Home.” That would be the only sane choice. But instead he said, “Key East Lormada. The best place to watch the sunset.”

  “I thought the perfect place to watch the sunset was Mallory Square in Key West.” The innocence in her expression nearly caused his undoing.

  He was using her.

  His justification was his resolve to prove Jack was dealing drugs. But that determination was getting hazy. Except he’d been down that road before and had the scars to prove it. He had to stay focused on his job, on finding out exactly who Miss Sammie Murphy was.

  “If you don’t mind being in the middle of a mob of crazies all drunk on their asses. Personally, I thought something a little less crowded would be more inviting.” And incredibly stupid. “Let’s climb onto the trunk and wait for the sunset.” Pulling into a spot devoid of people, he shut off the car.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  Yeah, he had a job to do, but screwing her over shouldn’t be part of the plan. Then again, if she was a hard-core drug dealer, she was playing him big-time.

  “Spoken like a man who’s brought more than a few women to this spot.”

  “You think I’m a womanizer?”

  “Yep.” She let a hint of a smile trail across her lips as she scrambled onto the trunk and then leaned her back against the rear window. “This is spectacular.”

  “There’s nothing like the Keys anywhere in the country. I can’t imagine ever living anyplace else.” He slid his arm about her waist and pulled her close. When she turned to say something and her lips were inches from his, he watched her eyes go wide—she wanted him. Objectivity be damned. He wanted her, too.

  Leaning in closer, he caught the faint smell of salt water lingering on her skin, the tantalizing aroma of citrus wafting in the air around her, and drew in a deep breath. He couldn’t help but notice her nipples had gone on high alert, as had his dick.

  Ah, shit. This was a big mess he was about to step into.

  He started out soft, just a brief touch of his lips to hers, but quickly learned it wasn’t enough. When her lips parted, he sampled her with his tongue. Damn, she tasted good.

  Despite his resolve to control the lure of attraction, his hand snaked about her shoulders as he sucked her in close. Circling her waist, he scooted her over until she sat on his lap, while he deepened the kiss and lost his fucking mind.

  Every instinct he’d sworn to listen to flew out the window as her body curved into his and his dick responded. The taste of her lips was sweet and tender while her body felt soft in all the right places.

  His hand trailed up her side, and he relished the feel of her—the taste of her—way too much. When his thumb brushed the underside of her breast, her nipples poked against his chest, his dick got hard as a rock. She squirmed and rubbed herself against him.

  Suddenly this didn’t feel like a job. This felt like a prelude to sex.

  Their physical connection felt all too right and familiar.

  …

  Sammie felt mellow for the first time in days as she relaxed against the front seat of Enrique’s car, lulled by the sound of the water, the smell of the ocean in the air, and memories of the kisses they’d shared earlier.

  The man sure knew how to kiss.

  But that only proved what she’d originally thought: he was a womanizer through and through. Whether or not he was a certified bad boy who’d left a string of broken hearts in his wake remained to be seen.

  When he pulled into a parking spot by the bar, she stretched in her seat. Part of her wanted to be safe in her bed; the other part wanted Enrique beside her. No doubt about it. She was getting sucked into the abyss of bad boy hell.

  Reality check, please.

  She straightened her shoulders and firmed her resolve. There would be no nakedness tonight despite the drumming of the hormones inside her body anxious for some much-needed attention. “Thanks, Enrique. I had a great time. I even survived wearing a bathing suit in front of you. That usually doesn’t happen until at least the fifth date, if ever.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Are you kidding? You looked hot. In
fact, I think you should wear it around the bar. I’m sure business would pick up.”

  She glanced down at her small breasts and barked out a laugh. The guy had charm. “Yeah, right.”

  Pulling her hand into his, he kissed her knuckles. “You are way too hung up on your body.”

  “Why should I be any different than 90 percent of the women in this country? Would be one hundred, but I’m sure that other 10 percent have given up altogether.” The soft brush of her fingers on his forearm enhanced her sensations.

  This. Nonsense. Had. To. Stop. Now. But she didn’t want it to.

  “Hopeless.” He shook his head and came around to her side and opened her door.

  “Do you want to come in for a drink?” Oh, hell, had those words just come out of her mouth? No doubt she’d crossed over into the certifiable zone if she thought being alone with him would lead to anything but the inevitable disaster.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Sammie unlocked both the bottom and top locks to the back entrance to the bar. Nerves popped along her skin until she wanted to scream because of the intensity. She’d invited him in. Now she had to figure out what to do about it.

  “Can I interest you in a beer?”

  “Sure, I’m easy.” A slow grin smoothed over his face while he leaned against the counter.

  After taking out two bottles of Corona, she popped open the lids and placed one in his hand. Moving alongside him, she eased back against the counter as well.

  Clinking their bottles together—more than likely a toast to her heart’s demise—she tilted back the bottle, letting the brew slide down her throat. Focusing on the bottle in her hands kept her from thinking about the two hundred pounds of sexual disaster lurking dangerously close.

  Just as she contemplated how to extricate herself from personal Armageddon, his lips trailed down her neck to her shoulder and back again. Her plan to stop this wave of euphoria anytime soon evaporated in the wind. As proof she’d gone over the precarious ledge to downright crazy, it took everything within her not to moan and adhere herself to his body. Before she could even offer up a meek protest, his lips pressed against hers. Heat unfurled in her chest and spread from her toes to the tips of her hair.

  “Sammie.” His breath whispered outside her ear. Despite her earlier resolve, a crowbar couldn’t pry her away from him right now.

  The way he kissed short-circuited the little that remained of her willpower. Adrenaline laced with hormones spiked through her body, making the inevitability a fait accompli.

  Right now, she didn’t care. She’d worry about her broken heart later.

  His fingers slipped beneath the bottom of her T-shirt. Warm firm hands encircled her torso. Her heartbeat sped up while blood rushed to her head.

  Just when she thought her sexual drought was about to end, the phone in the office rang. And rang. And rang. Even though he kept kissing her like he didn’t hear it, she needed the annoyance to stop, so she eased herself away from him and went to pick it up. Maybe the person on the other end of the line would talk some much-needed sense into her.

  “Hello.” She pushed at Enrique’s chest to gain some distance.

  “Tomorrow at two. Thirty kilos of cocaine. Boat dock by Mallory Square, or something will happen to your precious uncle Jack in jail.” The caller hesitated. “Got it?”

  The giant thud she felt was her stomach rolling over. Did she play along with it or did she enlist some kind of help? She gazed at Enrique, trying to decide if she should break down and trust him. Many people gave others their trust on a regular basis. But she’d learned hard lessons that had taught her otherwise.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat to make her statement more forceful. “I’ll be there.” Her hand shook when she hung up the phone.

  “Who was that?”

  “The voice of reason.” She gave him what she hoped was a coy smile, although she couldn’t be positive, based on the way her limbs continued to shake involuntarily. What had she gotten herself into? “Thanks so much for the great day, but I think it’s best if I go to bed alone tonight.”

  “I can take a hint.” The smile on his face didn’t match the intensity behind his gaze as he walked toward the door.

  After double locking the door, she made her way upstairs. Meeting up with drug dealers. Alone. She had to be out of her frickin’ mind. Luckily, she was too exhausted to worry about what tomorrow might bring. She needed sleep to have a clear head.

  Throwing herself, clothes and all, on the bed, Sammie toed off her boots and kicked them over the side. She closed her eyes and used calming breaths to clear her thoughts. Immediately her eyes began to flutter closed as sleep overtook her.

  At the periphery of her consciousness, she heard something. Had she left the window open? She peeked open one eye to confirm she hadn’t. But there it was again.

  It sounded like…slithering? She shot upright in bed but couldn’t prevent the scream that erupted from her throat. Which did her absolutely no good.

  She stood in the middle of the bed, pulled the cell phone out of her pocket, and dialed Enrique. He couldn’t have gotten far.

  Chapter Ten

  Rather than go straight home, Enrique figured he’d drive around the neighborhood to clear his head after the phone call that caused Sammie’s complexion to go ashen. What in the hell was that about?

  Who knew what would have happened if she hadn’t gotten that phone call.

  His thoughts were interrupted when his cell rang. “Hello.”

  “Snakes.”

  “What?” He didn’t even get the word out before she started screaming. “Sammie…Sammie…did you say…” When she didn’t answer except mumbling incoherently, he turned the car around.

  He arrived at the bar seconds later expecting to see signs of a break-in. But nothing—no broken windows, and the door was locked up tight. In fact, it didn’t budge.

  “Sammie, open the door.”

  No response.

  Instead of thinking too long and hard that she might be setting him up, he rammed the door with his shoulder. The frame started to give. Three hits later, he broke through.

  “Sammie, where are you?”

  “Upstairs. Hurry.” Her voice sounded muffled.

  After bounding up the stairs, he tore open the door. He rushed through the small living room toward her bedroom.

  What the hell? She stood in the center of her bed, unharmed. “Sammie, you scared the shit out of me.” He blew out a breath to slow his breathing.

  Her head tilted to the side, and she motioned toward the corner. “The S-N-A-K-E-S.” Only her eyes shifted.

  Holy shit, they were some big m-fers. “Oh, shit. I hate snakes.”

  She shuddered. “I think…they’ve…decided to move in.”

  He knew a little about snakes and tried to distinguish the markings. “I’m pretty sure they’re copperheads.”

  Her mouth was drawn into a tight line, but the words spewed out between her lips. “I just want to get rid of them.”

  Rocking back on his heels, Enrique contemplated what to do next. “The problem is they’re highly poisonous.” He forced a smile. “That’s the thing about snakes—even if they’re harmless, they look like such badasses it doesn’t really matter.”

  She shook her head. Her legs trembled as she fought for control. “I’m afraid to move.”

  Facing down a room full of drug dealers seemed like a walk in the park compared to this. With dealers, at least he knew where he stood. Instead, the biggest of the three vipers looked in his direction, the glare from its beady eyes challenging and terrifying simultaneously.

  Where was the big-shot DEA agent right now? Yeah, he was big enough to admit he was scared as shit. He drew in a breath and mustered some balls.

  “Any quick movements and you’ll spook them.” His voice sounded shaky. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice, based on the way she couldn’t take her eyes off the reptiles. “I’m going to come slowly toward the end o
f the bed, pick you up, and carry you out.”

  Even though he was making things up as he went along, it sounded like a plan. He had to hope the leader of the pack didn’t have other ideas.

  “Are you sure he won’t come after you?”

  “Hell, no. But it’s the best I can come up with right now.”

  Slowly, he inched his way toward the foot of the bed, the whole time keeping his eyes glued to the corner, where the snakes were milling around, looking for somebody to scare the crap out of. No doubt that would be him.

  She slid one foot after the other, an inch at a time, across the bed. Her eyes remained focused, watching the calculated progress toward her goal.

  He urged her along. “Come on, Sammie, almost there.”

  The snake’s head stretched, giving him the old stare down again. Fear caused sweat to bead along his forehead. Any perceived threat, and they’d lash out.

  He swooped her into his arms and, as slowly as his throbbing heart would allow, walked backward out of the room, making sure to keep a cautious eye on the corner. Once he reached the threshold to her bedroom, he raced through the living room, hit the stairs, and was out the back door and into the alleyway behind the building in record time.

  Uncertain which was pounding more, his heart or hers, he continued on until he reached his car. Only then did he call the authorities to have the snakes taken care of and the back door replaced.

  Her arms wrapped around his neck like a vise. Her body trembled with his, or maybe that was his in combination with hers.

  “I can’t go back there tonight.”

  …

  Sammie hadn’t expected to end up in Enrique’s apartment. But as far as apartments went, it was pretty spectacular. The location—situated on top of a small store—gave the place privacy. The building itself was old in the Key West style, with bright colors on the outside.

  Porches lined the front and back of the apartment, letting in light from both sides. Shades made of bamboo rolled up and down to filter the amount of heat in the wide-open space.