The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(42)

“No, it’s a gray area, and gray areas are off limits too.” I needed to sleep, and I didn’t trust myself around him. If he kept this up, I’d become the aggressor.

“How about here? Is this still a gray area?” he asked as his hand traced the underside of my breast.

“Not a safe zone and you know it.”

He chuckled, moving his hand to the outside of my shirt. “I was just teasing you.”

I sighed irritably. “You’re evil.”

“But you like it when I misbehave, and I’d hate to disappoint you.”

He rolled over, pinning my body beneath his, bracing his weight with his arms. His gazed drifted to my mouth, lingering there for a drawn out heartbeat. I’d never wanted to feel his lips against mine more than at that instant.

“I shouldn’t kiss you.”

I nodded, the back of my head sliding against the nubby pillowcase. “No, you shouldn’t,” I agreed, even as I burned with the need to taste him again. If he didn’t kiss me, I had every intention of kissing him.

“But I’m going to do it anyway.”

“I know.”

The tips of his fingers tunneled into the tangled strands of my hair, and he brushed a feather-like kiss across my lips. My heart seized, but it wasn’t even close to enough. I arched into him, and within seconds our lips fused to together, hot and heavy.

I sunk into him, into his kiss, moaning when his tongue slipped past my lips. I kissed him like my life depended on it, and maybe it did.

I tasted him.

I inhaled him.

I clung to him.

Dizzy and lightheaded, my body shook with unrestrained desire, and I couldn’t get enough. Remotely, I registered the shuffling of feet and whispered conversations in the hallway, but I didn’t care. My mind didn’t have room for anything except the wicked caress of his tongue against mine and the ache building inside of me.

And then he stopped, his lips hovering over mine, his exhalation becoming my inhalation. The pad of his thumb traced my lower lip, and time grinded to a halt. His gray eyes searched my face, then he pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose.

“Goodnight, Hattie,” he whispered before rolling over and swaddling me in a side-by-side embrace.

I told myself to object and shove him off the bed, or beg for more, but I couldn’t summon the words or willpower to do either. He felt too good, too warm, and too safe. So instead, I closed eyes, drew his spicy, sea salt infused scent into my lungs, and fell asleep.





Chapter Twenty




A knock on the louvered wood door woke me early the next morning. My eyes fluttered around the room, taking in my surroundings. Yellow stains dripped down the empty, white walls. Ryker’s heavy arm circled my waist. Springs burrowed into my side from the thin mattress. Light poured into the room around the edges of the faded, cornflower blue curtains. For a split second, I couldn’t remember where we were, but then I heard Ignacio’s voice.

“Ryker, are you in there?”

A night of sleep had centered my thoughts and erased the spiraling panic etched in my mind, but the moment I heard Ignacio’s voice, my muscles tensed and my stomach soured.

“Shit,” Ryker mumbled as he rolled onto his back and dropped his hand over his eyes.

“Ryker?” Ignacio said again, his voice echoing off the walls. The door handle jiggled, and the hook and eye latch threatened to snap under the pressure.

“I’m coming.” Ryker sat up, his feet hanging over the side of the bed.

I scrambled off the bed and leapfrogged to the far corner of the room, putting as much distance as possible between the door and me. My tattered sandals were on the side of the bed. Slipping my feet into them for another day sounded like a rare form of torture. A large blister lined the heel of my right foot, and the constant abrasion from the leather strap between my first two toes had left my skin raw. Transiently, I considered leaving them for the owner of the house, but I didn’t have many shoe options at the villa, so I picked them up.

“Get up,” Ignacio barked. “Dario was working with the Alverez Cartel. We need to leave before someone sells us out and we have to fight our way out.”

Ryker shoved his feet into his shoes and stalked toward the door. His dark hair stuck up at different angles, and the side of his face had indentation marks from the sheets. Pausing with his hand on the lock, he glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone what happened between us.” He had lowered his voice until it barely reached a whisper.

“Who would I tell?”

Ryker ran his hand through his hair and his mouth tightened. “Ignacio. Everyone. Fuck…I don’t know. Just keep it to yourself. It was a mistake. It can’t happen again. Ever.”

Unreasonable and wholly unwarranted pain burst through my heart. I agreed with him. What happened between us was a mistake so many times over. Ryker was my jailer. I promised Evan a second chance. Ryker lived in a violent world beyond my comprehension—one I’d never understand. Sadly, none of that made a difference to my sick and twisted heart. I was ten kinds of a fool.

“Hattie?” Ryker prompted when I didn’t answer him, his gray eyes searching mine. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Why?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “To protect you. That’s all I can say.”