Rosa
She’s gone.
I didn’t notice until this morning, but Araceli is nowhere to be found. Her things remain in her drawers, but she’s vanished. Yolanda, Silvia, and Leticia are all sick with worry, but nobody saw anything.
Jesus.
I knew I shouldn’t have left last night.
They did something with her. Made her disappear or something. Oh, God, if they hurt her, I will cut every single one of their throats. I’m enraged as I check every closet and under each bed. I should be meeting with Michael since it’s Saturday, but I refuse to do anything until I make sure she’s okay.
I will find her.
When I walk past Javier’s office, I pause. It’s one of the few rooms without cameras. He keeps it locked when he’s not in it. I’m one of the few people who has access since I have to get in there and clean. Maybe I could log in to the cameras and see who took her. Any kind of lead is a helpful one. I fish my keys out of my uniform dress pocket and push into his office. Quickly, I close and lock the door behind me. His laptop sits in the middle of his desk, so I rush over to it. I sit in his comfortable leather chair and snap open the computer. The office smells like him. Tobacco. Candy apples. Expensive, masculine scent. I don’t admit to myself that I am kind of fond of the combination. Instead, I focus on finding Araceli.
His computer is password protected. I try several things before giving up. The key ring I’ve been given only has a few keys on it and his desk is not one of them. Yanking two bobby pins from my bun, I ignore the way my hair begins sliding from its neat position and I attempt to pick at the lock on the desk drawer. I’m still working at it when I hear keys jangling.
Oh, God.
He’s coming.
I abandon the bobby pins in search of a hiding place. My quickest result is under the desk. I crawl underneath and try to make myself as small as possible. The door creaks open and footsteps across the wood floors can be heard as he approaches his desk. He whistles a jovial tune, something no cartel leader should even know how to sing, as he sits down in his chair. With him this close to me, in his lair, my heart rate thunders in my chest. Sweat breaks out over my flesh.
Maybe he won’t see me.
He taps away on his computer.
Ping.
My eyes widen when I see the bobby pin that’s fallen from the keyhole to the floor. I’m hoping he didn’t hear it, but he slides away from the desk slightly. His muscled, tattooed arm reaches down to pluck it from the floor. I hold my breath and wait for him to continue working.
“I know you’re down there, manzanita.” His voice is low and threatening. “Question is, why?”
The breath I’d been holding onto escapes in a ragged rush. “I-I-I can explain.”
I’ve barely gotten the words out before I’m being dragged out by my ankle. I let out a shriek of surprise. He fists the front of my uniform and hauls me to my feet.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m staring up at well over six feet of pure masculine glory. Javier is a lot of things. Ruthless. Cold. Murderous. Delinquent. But he’s also fine. So damn fine. And his male parts right now are speaking to my female parts.
“Start talking fast,” he murmurs, his brown eyes flickering with fury. Today, his black hair is slicked back and his cheeks are scruffy. The sides of his head have been recently shaven, accentuating the longer part on top. I’m not blind. He’s hot. Ridiculously so. But it doesn’t make him any less mean.
As if on cue, he pulls a knife from his pocket. A mewl escapes me when he gently pokes it into my side between two ribs. My mind whirs with an explanation, but I have none. I can’t tell him I’m with the CIA. He’d do terrible things to me.
“Not fast enough,” he hisses. He slides his knife to my middle button and he slices between the two folds of fabric. The button flips off and clinks to the floor. Panic rises up inside of me, but I’m frozen. He repeats his action for the bottom two buttons. I close my eyes when he slips his hand between the gaping material to touch me over my white cotton panties. “Cat got your tongue?”
I cry out in shock when he rubs his knuckle against my clit. Our eyes clash together and evil dances in his gaze. Knowing he got a reaction, he repeats his action. I whimper, ignoring the jolt of pleasure, and push backward away from him. My ass hits the edge of the desk, locking me in.
“Talk to me, manzanita, or I’ll cut every piece of clothing off you and make you talk. In fact, I’ll make you scream,” he threatens, his incessant rubbing on my clit dizzying me.
“I-I…w-was…just…”
He slides his hand into the top of my panties and his longest finger slips between the lips of my pussy. A groan pushes out of my mouth. Something resembling a feral growl rattles through him as his finger seeks my warmth. I’m so focused on what he’s doing that I forget what I am…who I am…I forget everything. A thick finger pushes into me and I cry out. He curls it, his long digit stroking a place I never knew existed. I’m embarrassingly wet for him and I can’t make sense of that.
I’m sick.
This shouldn’t be happening.
I need to push him away and run.
His thumb finds my clit and he begins fingering me in a way that erases all my stress and worry. I’m with one of the biggest monsters the CIA is after and I’m willingly letting him bring me to orgasm.
“Tell me,” he orders, his husky voice nearly my undoing. When I don’t answer, he uses the knife to rid me of my top two buttons.
“I was looking for Araceli,” I admit in defeat. I close my eyes and wait for him to slit my throat.
His fingers keep playing me until stars glitter behind my lids. My knees buckle, but I don’t fall. A harsh, unexpected orgasm ripples through me, drawing out a loud moan from me. I ride the waves until I feel dizzy. I’m blacking out. Either from pleasure or fear. He slips his finger from inside of me and pulls me against him. I can feel every single hard muscle in his chest through his T-shirt. My own chest is bare, aside from my bra. A bad man shouldn’t feel this good. The tip of his blade scores the material along my spine. I bury my face against him in an effort to escape the knife.
“She is none of your concern,” he demands lowly. “Your concern is this house. That is your job. That is what I pay you to do. Are we clear?”
I nod, hot tears leaking from my eyes and soaking his shirt. His hand cradles the back of my head and for a moment I wonder if he’ll yank my head back and cut my throat. He doesn’t cut me, though. Simply runs his fingers through my hair. The small act of affection, from a monster no less, has me sagging against him.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I was just worried about her.”
“I’ve killed men for lesser offenses,” he utters. “Don’t get yourself killed because you’re worried about a woman who is not even your blood.”
He tosses his knife on the desk with a clatter. Then, his palm slides to my ass and his other hand keeps stroking through my hair. He squeezes my bottom and inhales my hair.
“It’s your day off,” he rumbles before stepping away. His intense brown eyes rake over the naked parts of my body, hunger flickering in his gaze. “Take the day off and come back to work tomorrow focused. Where will you go?”
I swallow. “To see my father.”
“Good.”
I clutch my dress together to hide my nakedness. My eyes drop to the floor. I can’t look at him. His finger was inside of me. He just got me off. He is the enemy.
Fuck.
I push past him and all but run to the door. I’m just opening the door when his commanding voice stops me.
“Rosa, I will kill you if I have to.”
His threat is loud and clear, reminding me he is evil and a monster.
I’m vulnerable.
In desperate need for comfort.
Ready to maul Michael.
After the confusing, terrifying, and hot moment with Javier, I’ve been on edge ever since. I’d gone back to my room and spent a lot of time getting ready. I borrowed one of Yolanda’s yellow dresses and worked hard on my makeup. Winged eyeliner. Rosy cheeks. Dark, thick lashes. And blood red lips.
I barely recognized myself in the mirror.
Beautiful.
I knock on the door and Michael opens it. His gaze goes from bored to hungry in a matter of moments. I knew I could fix us. I’d grown too comfortable. Assumed he didn’t need me to dress up for him. But he’s a man, after all. He likes pretty things. And I’m a helluva lot prettier than that woman from last night, who I later learned was a prostitute.
Somehow knowing she was a whore and not someone who he actually had feelings for helped his betrayal against me.
“Rosa,” he murmurs.
I launch myself into his arms. Our lips meet and I kiss him hard. His palms find my hips but instead of pulling me closer, he pushes me away.
“Stokes is waiting on a report. You’re late,” he reminds me. My red lipstick is smeared on his face and it brings back memories from last night.
I drag myself away from him, ignoring the hurt throbbing through me. “Something happened,” I whisper. I’m playing a dangerous game, but my heart is calling the shots. I want him to feel the stab of hurt I felt. “This morning, Javier caught me.”
His eyes widen. “You were made?”
“What? No,” I rush out. I’m about to tell him about searching for Araceli, but then I remember the way he struck me last night. He doesn’t need to know the whys. “I was in his office and I wasn’t supposed to be. I’d ended up hiding under his desk. He pulled me out and then…”
His brows scrunch together and his lips are pursed. “Did he hurt you?”
“He fingered me,” I whisper, my eyes wide.
He turns away from me and walks over to his computer. With his back to me, he says, “Did you like it?”
“What? Of course I didn’t like it,” I lie, my voice shrill. I don’t tell him I came harder than I ever have in my life.
“So he knew you were snooping and then he fingered you before letting you go?”
“Yeah.”
“This is perfect.”
I blink in shock. “Excuse me?”
He turns and a devious grin is on his face. It crushes my heart that he doesn’t even ask how I felt about it. “This is perfect. You can get closer to him. If he likes you, work that to your advantage. He’ll give you access to information we desperately need.” He motions at me. “Look at you, Rosa, you were made to seduce a man. You can do this.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I’m fucking thrilled,” he elaborates. “This is the best progress we’ve had in years.”
My heart sinks. “Stokes will think this is okay?”
“Stokes doesn’t have to know right now. Just do more of this,” he says as he motions to my dress.
He approaches me and I melt in his arms. Last night I didn’t want to sleep with him because he’d had the prostitute here and my heart was broken, but today, I need to remind him why he wants me. I reach for my zipper and he swats my hand away.
“Leave it on, baby. It’s too sexy to take off.” He twists me and urges me to bend over the bed. With my palms on the covers, I try not to be bitter as he slides my dress up over my ass. He tugs my panties down and they drop to my ankles above my borrowed sandals. Within seconds his naked cock is out rubbing against my ass.
“Condom,” I choke out, a shudder rippling through me.
“Right,” he snaps. His tone is irritated.
I wait, my ass bared to him, for him to sheath his cock. He presses into me and I wince. I’m still aching from Javier’s thick, expert finger. In a mechanical way, Michael pistons against me.
Slapslapslapslapslap.
Our skins make sounds and it reminds me of earlier.
The sounds my body was making was wetter. Juicier. Needier. The barely stifled moans coming from me were desperate and wild. A jolt of pleasure trickles through me at the reminder. I want Michael to get me off, to bring me back into the moment with him, but he’s focused on his own release.
What am I even doing?
One sick, twisted morning in Javier Estrada’s office and I’m suddenly questioning everything with Michael.
The thought is a dangerous one.
Have I been undercover too long? Am I losing my mind?
Michael comes with a hiss and I feel his heat rushing out, thankfully protected by the condom. I’d always wanted to protect myself against pregnancy since I’m in no point in my life ready to be a mother, but after last night and seeing that prostitute, I want to protect myself from much more. He pulls out and deposits the condom in the restroom. I jerk my panties up my thighs and cross my arms, my stance defensive.
“Let’s have dinner together,” I murmur.
He rights his clothes and scowls. “I’ve got work to do.” He points at the door. “And so do you.”
I glower at him, a spark of the real me climbing to the surface. I’ve spent four years being someone else that I’ve nearly snuffed out Rosa Daza. I flip him off and start for the door. I’ve just yanked it open when he grips my elbow painfully.
“Rosa,” he snaps. “What the fuck is your problem?”
I try to jerk my arm from his grip to no avail. “I’m just so over this,” I admit, tears threatening.
“There is no this,” he reminds me. “There was never a this.”
I recoil at his harsh words. “Let me go.”
“I’ll walk you home,” he offers as he releases me. “It’s dark.”
“No need,” a deep, dangerous voice rumbles from the hallway. “I’ll take over from here.”
Javier Estrada, dressed to the nines in a fancy pale gray three-piece suit, is leaned against the scummy peeling wallpaper looking incredibly out of place. I’m frozen to the dirty carpet, a deer caught in the headlights.
How much did he hear?
He must read my expression because he chuckles. “He doesn’t look old enough to be your father. But it appears I misunderstood. He’s your daddy.” He smirks as he straightens and steps forward.
Michael pushes past me, his body blocking mine from Javier’s approach. My heart sails at his protecting me. “We’re nothing anymore. We broke up.”
Pain cuts through my abdomen.
I think the words are more for me than Javier.
Javier’s brown eyes dart to mine and he gauges my reaction. I flinch because, in essence, that’s exactly what just happened. Bowing my head, I attempt to calm my nerves.
“Come, manzanita,” Javier says, his voice commanding and somehow soothing all at once. “I will escort you.” He opens his jacket to reveal his piece strapped to his body. Not only is he always carrying, but he’s like the big man in this city. The one they all fear, worship, or respect. With him, nobody would touch me.
“We can still be friends,” Michael murmurs. “I’ll take you out to dinner on your next day off.” His eyes pin me and I know he wants me to play along.
I give him a clipped nod that I understand. I understand the mission, but I do not understand why he’s thrown my heart in the blender. Has it always been one-sided? Michael retreats into the room and closes the door. I’m left standing alone with my boss, leader of the cartel, and the man whose finger was inside of me this morning. I’m caught somewhere in between my chest aching from Michael being so cold to my skin feeling inflamed from Javier’s scorching stare.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, his voice low so that if Michael is listening, he can’t be heard.
I lift my eyes and regard him in confusion. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?”
His gaze rakes over my dress and he flashes me an impish grin. “I followed the dress, mami.” His dimple forms and a flash of heat surges through me.
Seduce him.
Simple.
I can do this.