His arm extended, big hand moving towards my chest. I might've lost my nerve if I hadn't noticed the slight tremble to his fingers. Whatever this was, it meant as much to him as it did to me. I closed my eyes, waiting to feel his bare skin on my breast and his palm rolling around the sensitive tips.
I gasped when the pad of his finger landed on my collarbone instead, tracing a blazing path from one side to the other.
Come on. I shifted around, needing his focus elsewhere.
“Be still for me, diosa.” His voice was deep and dark, full of carnal promise. “You’ve no idea how long I waited for this. I plan to savor it.”
Any protest I would’ve made flew out the window as he drug his finger slowly down my sternum and between my breasts. My stomach tensed when he reached it, caving in, and I felt Carlos splay his hand over my middle.
Peering out from beneath my lashes, I watched in wonder as his hand came back up, circling the outer edges of each breast in a figure eight. Goosebumps followed in his wake, and my nipples grew so hard they ached.
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he rumbled, hand drifting to the curve of my hip. If he cared about the water soaking into his sleeve, I couldn’t tell. “Let me hear the voice I enjoy so much.”
“You like my voice?” I didn’t know there was room in my chest for warm fuzzies but it was a nice surprise.
“Love it,” he bit out. His hand dipped to the inside of my thigh, squeezing briefly. The backs of his fingers lightly brushed my outer lips and I jolted, but he didn’t linger.
He continued his silky glide down my thigh, over my calf, and down to my feet, stroking my desire with every touch. An artist working at his canvas.
“Feels good,” I whispered lamely, biting my lip when his hand returned to my inner thigh, squeezing the flesh there.
“That’s it?” His lips curled wickedly. “Feels good? You can do better.”
Arrogant bastard.
I glared at him, or tried to. He brushed against the center of me again and my hips jerked, chasing the pleasure, a soft moan escaping. “Oh, fuck.”
“Better,” he mused darkly. “But not enough.”
Carlos leaned over the tub, his spice filling my nose and his face crowding my vision. Reflexively, I raised my hands, dripping from the water, to cradle the sides of his face. He slowly closed the distance between us, and I licked my lips in preparation. His lips had been at the forefront of my brain since the first night in the club. Our brief alignment outside the diner had only made me greedy for another round.
To finally have them so close? With no one and nothing in sight to interrupt us? I was a goner.
So I wasn’t at all ready for him to pause an inch away. Or for his hand to immediately cup my pussy possessively, the heel of his palm pressing into the piercing above my mound and zapping me with pleasure so intense I released a shocked cry.
“Oh my God.” I moaned loudly, pushing my hips into his hand. “Carlos…”
He flashed his teeth, growling right in my face, eyes blazing like miniature suns. “Surprised you’re not boiling the water with this hot, little pussy.”
“Your fault,” I breathed, trying to grind against him again.
“Then I should take responsibility, shouldn’t I?” He parted my folds with ease, a single finger sliding up and down through my slickness. “Can’t have my woman walking around like this when I’ve got exactly what she needs.”
His woman. Damn me for loving the way that sounded.
He found my entrance and applied delicious pressure. Carlos watched my face carefully as he slowly slid the digit inside of me. My breath caught, eyes fluttering closed as my body clamped down on him, keeping him from going deeper. From going where I wanted him.
“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he crooned, making the tiniest of circles inside my tight sheath. “Let me in.”
I gulped at the air, body wiggling as I tried to take him deeper but it wasn’t working. “I- I can’t.”
He moved closer, lips brushing mine. “You can. There’s no rush.”
Carlos removed his finger and I whimpered at the loss, along with my failure. But he wasn’t interested in giving me time to mourn. He covered my entire pussy again, heel of his palm pressing down on my clit. My head tipped back, heat flooding through me, and his hand rode the waves my hips started making, never letting up.
The air stirred around me, then I felt something warm envelop my breast, covering it completely. I caught a glimpse of his mouth on top of the mound a beat before his teeth closed around the sensitive nipple, lightly pulling.
My head rolled from side to side as the scrumptious bite of pain flashed through me. “Carlos!”
I didn’t know what saying his name was supposed to accomplish. All I knew was that I needed more. He was turning me into a pressure cooker and my heart was going to explode from the way it was pounding if I didn’t find my release.
He released my breast with a wet pop, and the air felt cool by comparison. “I’ve got you. Trust me.”
His finger found my entrance again, dipping inside. Before I could tense, his other hand slid around the back of my neck and captured my mouth in a kiss unlike anything I had ever dreamed of. His mouth moved against mine so sensuously I thought he was following the beat to a song only he could hear.
It didn’t matter.
He pulled me into his orbit with the first slide of his tongue along the seam of my lips.
By the time my own tongue touched his, we were moving to a choreographed routine unique to the two of us.
He pressed forward and I retreated just out of reach. I surged towards him, biting down on his lip, and he groaned roughly. We met back in the middle, lips sliding and sucking until I didn’t know where I ended and he began.
So our dance went. Entwining me so deeply in everything him, that when he finally pushed his finger inside my body, I welcomed him willingly on a sharp cry.
“So perfect,” he growled between kisses, never losing our rhythm. “So fucking mine.” Carlos didn’t so much squeeze the back of my neck as his fingers spasmed. “God damn, I’m going to cum in my fucking pants at this rate.”
My lashes fluttered, eyes opening on him. “You are?”
He is? But I haven’t done anything. I brushed my hands along his sharp jaw, letting my confusion show.
A second finger smoothly joined the first, stretching my walls. Fireworks detonated along the surface of my brain, painting my vision with bright stars. Carlos kept them there, curling inside of me while I adjusted to the fullness.
His voice dropped another octave, rumbling like thunder. I never wanted to take shelter from that voice. “You have no idea how many times I stroked myself, picturing you in those tight jeans that fit your perfect ass like a second skin.”
I clenched around him as his filthy words resonated.
“I've been cumming like a faucet all week, and my balls are still heavy and full.”
I couldn't help myself. My hand drifted towards the side of the tub and he raised himself up without a word, giving me access. I brushed against the outline of his swollen tip, length straining against his dress pants. He claimed my mouth again, kissing me senseless as his fingers started their in and out, gliding easily.
“So hot,” I moaned into his mouth. He felt like a brand, despite the layer separating us.
His hand sped up between my legs, splashing water over the sides of the tub and onto the floor. Neither of us cared.
My hand dropped lower, fondling his balls, loving the way he groaned. Carlos was right. They were soft, but weighted. Full.
For me.
I started to reach for his zipper with both hands and a third finger slipped inside, stretching me just right.
“Fuck! Yes!” I screamed as an orgasm hit me dead on.
Pressure released in waves, leaving me clutching desperately at the edges of the tub, fingers scrabbling for purchase.
My toes curled, whole body tingling as my pussy coiled around his str
oking digits.
I breathed out in a rough shudder as he slipped from me, aftershocks quivering in my core as I sank bonelessly into the tub. The only thing that kept me from falling beneath the water was Carlos's hand behind my head, holding me up.
Our eyes met, and his were shining with satisfaction and pride.
“You could tone down the smugness.” It took the last bit of energy I had to raise a hand from the water, pinching thumb and forefinger together. “Just a bit.”
His grin was easy and wide. “I pleased my woman well enough that someone should’ve heard you down on the street. I’m allowed to bask.”
My cheeks flushed and I sank down until the water was just below my chin. “Yeah? Take your basking and your blue balls somewhere else.”
Carlos wagged his brows. “So we’re going to pretend you weren’t in a hell of a hurry to spring my cock free a moment ago?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” I mumbled. There was only so much insanity I could take at one time. Everything that had just happened was putting me well over my quota.
“Hmmm.” Carlos didn’t push the subject. He did roll up the sleeves on his shirt, baring those distractingly muscled forearms. Then he grabbed a lavender washcloth and a black bar of soap from the edge of the tub and started lathering.
I sat back up, alert. “What are you doing?”
He blinked like I was the crazy one here, and not the guy pursuing someone who kept trying to stab him. I'd even succeeded earlier.
“Bathing you,” he said simply.
Okay. There’s a bit of room in the quota.
CHAPTER 14 - Sylvia
Pampered.
The word didn’t grace my vocabulary often. Tonight? It fit.
Carlos had bathed me from head to toe with the same kind of precision he did everything else. He’d reapplied ointment to the cuts and scratches on my arms. Wrapped me in a fluffy, black robe. Carried me to his bedroom before tucking me underneath charcoal and lavender sheets with a thread count I couldn’t guess at.
Too bad the feeling was incredibly fleeting.
Sure, I was comfortable. Cared for. Sated in a way I hadn’t thought possible.
But Carlos was perched on a chair across from me, spinning a pen between his long fingers, his look turning more and more precisely focused by the moment.
Play time was over for now.
For now? Don’t act like you can’t wait for this to happen again.
I poked a nail into my thigh. Focus.
He tapped the pen on the desk beside him and glanced at me. The spinning started again. “You did me a favor, you know. You and the spectacularly murderous group of misfits you run with.”
Murderous Misfits. Great band name. Of course, I kept that to myself. “How so?”
“Removing El Lobo from the picture was exactly what I needed.”
My fists clenched. He was talking about Hector Ramirez. The man used to be a cockroach we barely tolerated. Now he was just dead. I only wished he had gone out slower.
“I take it you weren’t the one who killed him?” he asked, a smile in his voice. Either my poker face was slipping or he was getting really good at reading me.
“Unfortunately not.” I wasn't sure I kept the snarl out of my voice successfully. “Creed had that pleasure.”
Carlos shrugged. “He’s dead. While I can tell how much you wanted to deal the blow yourself, the end result is the same.” He leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankles casually like we were discussing the weather. “After Creed’s last...purge, for lack of a better term, the Cartel was left with only two lieutenants in this region trusted enough to deal directly with the big bosses over the border.”
I frowned. This was new information to me. I knew we’d removed a lot of the top brass years ago, but imagined they’d been replaced since then. Apparently not. “Hector was one of them?”
Carlos nodded. “Narciso is the other.”
My mind supplied an image of the greasy, fat scum from the other night, sweating in his suit. I felt my nose curl in disgust. “He hardly had the look of someone in the inner circle.”
“Because he barely makes the cut.” Carlos put the pen down, folding his arms over his chest. I should’ve asked him to roll his sleeves back down over his forearms, but at least he wasn’t shirtless again. “Narciso is the very definition of a last resort. He got his spot more out of being around for a long time and knowing the right people than any real merit. The man is a blustering coward, content to pad his own pockets and drink like a fish instead of actually running a facet of an organization he’s supposed to be in charge of.”
“He was also well aware that he was in over his head,” Carlos continued, eyes flashing with cunning. “So instead of doing his job, he looked for someone to do it for him. Someone who would do it well enough to make him look good. Someone who had climbed the ranks with ruthless efficiency and gotten rid of everything standing in the way.”
I barely suppressed a grin at how much he seemed to be enjoying his own monologue. It was oddly endearing. The man had to have some flaws, although I hadn't expected this to be one of them. That said, I was out of here if he started rubbing his hands together and suggested building a death ray.
Might as well play along.
“I’m guessing that someone was you?” One of his arms twitched and I was almost positive he wanted to pat himself on the back.
It was official. Fate was having a good laugh at my expense. It was the only way I could have gone from surrounding myself with bikers to doing whatever this was with a man who was one dialogue cue away from an entire villainous monologue.
“Got it in one,” he said.
“I like to stab things, Carlos. I’m not dense. A four year old could’ve figured that out.”
He sighed, sounding genuinely put out. “Do you how rare it is where I have a chance to gloat?”
I waved a hand, holding back my laughter. It wouldn’t do to let him know how much I was secretly enjoying this. “Please. Gloat on if it means so much to you.”
Carlos shook his head, briefly looking at me like I had just told him Santa wasn't real. “The moment is ruined. Moving on. Narciso signed his own death warrant, along with the Cartel’s, when he placed me in charge of the majority of our operations. Every piece of information pertaining to this area that’s supposed to be for his eyes only, comes to me. I know the location of every safehouse. Every drug den. Every vault.”
I tapped my piercing against the roof of my mouth, mind spinning with possibilities. The goal he was aiming for was taking shape. It was reachable, but incredibly time consuming. Dangerous as hell on top of that.
How many of those places could we reasonably hit before they caught on and fortified them? Real life didn’t work out as favorably as it did in the movies. People shooting at you from behind cover weren’t usually inclined to leave said cover until you resembled swiss cheese.
I shook my head. “We’re going to need the other Sinners to make this work, maybe all of them.”
He shot me a look. “You agreed we wouldn’t involve them.”
My glare met his. “That was before you decided we were going to wage war across most of the state. The only way we come out on top is if we bring an army of our own. Unless you have more thugs in your pocket than I know about, we desperately need man power.”
Carlos smirked. “Who said anything about a war? I can’t promise we won’t get our hands dirty here, but the other places I mentioned? They’ll be taken care of without us lifting a finger.”
It sounded too good to be true. Which meant it probably was. “How?”
He must’ve been waiting on that singular question because his next actions were clearly rehearsed. He reached behind him without looking, pulling a manilla envelope over his head and tossing it to me. It landed at my feet and I pulled it into my lap, popping it open, sliding out the contents.
I leafed through the pages quickly and my eyes widened when
I understood what I was looking at. “Agent Rockwell?” I snapped my gaze towards him, feeling my temper climb in time with the ill feeling in my gut. “You’ve got the fucking FBI in on this? Are you crazy? Have you forgotten that you’re also a fucking crime lord? They’ll throw you in jail until the end of time!”
Carlos laughed. Laughed! I wanted to reach across the room and throttle him.
“This is not funny!” I threw the envelope back at him. The yellow packet hit him right in the chest and he only laughed harder, throwing his head back.
The joy he put in the simple sound was unfairly infectious. I found myself fighting a smile as he recovered. Whatever the joke was, I wished he would let me in on it.
“Your concerns are valid, diosa, and appreciated. But I find the only part of your rant I could really focus on was the implication that you would miss me if they locked me up and threw away the key.”
I looked down, picking at invisible lint to avoid the fluttering in my chest. “You’re not too bad.”
He watched me carefully. I was aware of his attention because it charged the air between us. A downed powerline just out of reach. I chewed my cheek, bracing for him to push the subject. Instead, he picked up right where he left off. I didn't sigh, no matter how badly I wanted to.
How hard was it for him to do what I expected at least once?
“I’ve been discreetly feeding Agent Rockwell information for years now. I have it on good authority that he and the rest of the alphabet soup will be conducting one of their largest operations in recent history in the next week or two at most.”
“You’ve really planned this out, haven’t you?” The awe might’ve shown in my voice. Hiding it was pointless, though. I was impressed, and for good reason. Not only was he strategically taking out the opposition from behind the scenes. He was doing it legally. Kind of.
It was deserving of a slow clap if I wasn’t positive such an action would go straight to his already inflated ego.
“Of course I did. The only people in this world I care about will be involved in this. And I saved the final blade for you,” he said, standing. “Just as promised.”
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