PaintedPassion (12 page)

She slid a firm thigh over his lap, straddling him. His eyes
shot open as the hot, damp heat from her center threatened to melt the cotton
of his pants. From the way she circled her hips against the ridge of his erection,
he wasn’t the only one searching for relief. The scent of her arousal sent his
rocketing off the charts.

He was a goner. All he wanted was her. He cradled her face
between his hands. “If we take things further, you can’t pretend it didn’t
happen. I won’t let you believe we’re betraying Louis by making love. And that
is what we’re doing, Trella. We’re not having sex. We’re not fucking. We’re
making love.”

He didn’t move as he gave her a minute to change her mind.
He prayed she didn’t. He’d never forced himself on a woman and wasn’t about to
start now.

A small hand swept down to hold him in a tight vise. “Don't
make me beg.”

Her whispered words unleashed his frozen limbs. Holding her
around the waist, he leaned back, lowering them onto the bed.

She laced her fingers with his then pulled their arms above
his head. She captured his lips, taking charge of the kiss as she eased her
tongue inside his mouth to mate with his.

This woman. Her taste. If she only knew the power she had
over him… His restraint dissipated with each soft, questing demand of her lips.
He groaned, hips lifting upward to seek more contact.

“Want me to stop?” she muttered against his mouth.

After several seconds, the small amount of blood remaining
in his brain registered her question. “No.”

Scooting off him, she eased the pants down his legs.
“Commando. Interesting.” She tossed them onto the floor.

Bending, she put her mouth on one of his nipples. The hot,
wet suction caused his abs to clench.

“Trella!”

She switched her attention to the other one. Every repeat of
her action caused a corresponding phantom tug on his cock.

She regained her position on his lap, sandwiching his
erection between them. She worked her hips in a circle as he clasped her waist.

He needed to be inside her. Now. Damn…his condoms were
downstairs. The sobering thought blunted the haze of desire. “Baby, I don’t
have any condoms with me.”

She stopped moving, disappointment visible on her face.

“It won’t take a minute to get one,” he reassured her.

She thrust against him.

He gripped her waist. “If we aren’t going any further, you
need to give me a minute.”

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she slid to her knees
on the floor, her arms rubbing up and down his thighs.

She reached up and placed a forefinger against his lips.
“For you.”

He sucked Trella’s finger into his mouth. She indulged him
only a moment before pulling free with a soft pop. She encircled his thickness
and squeezed.

Hissing, he tightened his abs, his cock pulsing in her
hands. She kissed the tip of his dick. A groan erupted from him. She licked his
length in long, wet drags.
So good
. She sucked the tip between her lips.
Gasping, he watched as inch by inch of him disappeared until her lips touched
the hair at his base. He curled his toes. She slowly released him. A pearl of
liquid glistened on his tip, and she licked it off with a hot swipe of her
tongue.

His breathing became more uneven, and he held her hair to
one side, his eyes glued to her every movement. She swirled her tongue around
then down his length, over and over, varying her speed each time, slow then
fast.

Up.

Down.

Around.

Carlos had long since lost the power of speech, and his
grunts and groans filled the room. His hands roamed through her hair and down
her shoulders.

She released him, and he thought she would allow him a
reprieve, but she pushed his thighs farther apart. She buried her face against
his pubic hair, rubbing her nose back and forth as if memorizing his scent.
With a naughty smile, she lifted her head. Her hot, wet tongue connected with
the flesh behind his right knee, and he jerked in response. He held his breath
as she treated his other knee to the same. If he could’ve said anything
intelligible, he’d have promised her everything he owned. He dragged in his
breath as she kissed up his thighs.

She licked the juncture of his groin and thighs. He groaned,
and she pushed his thighs farther apart.

At the first touch of her mouth on his balls, he moaned. If
it were possible, he grew harder. He opened his eyes. Seeing her head between
his legs was a sight he knew he’d never forget. He wanted to make the moment
last, but watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth broke him down. His
legs trembled.

“Suck me harder,” he panted. Every cell of his body strained
toward completion.

She encircled the weeping tip with her hand, swiped the
slit, licking at his pre-cum.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “I love the way you taste.” She glanced
up at him and grinned.

Before he could respond, she leaned down and encircled the
head of his cock with her mouth, then worked her lips down his length,
squeezing the base with her hand. When he thought it couldn’t feel any better,
she relaxed her throat and took more of him.

“Estrella!”

His body tensed as his orgasm rolled over him. Streams of
fluid shot from him, and she swallowed every bit. She released him from her
mouth and stroked his thighs as aftershocks rippled through him.

When his movements ceased, she slid up his body, causing
Carlos to hiss at the friction of her nakedness against his.

Cradling her face, he brought her closer and kissed her, his
tongue delving deep into her mouth. He sucked her tongue, tasting himself, and
he groaned. His cock twitched.

He released her lips, smoothing her hair from her face.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I should be thanking you. You’ve been right about
everything.” She rubbed the springy hair on his chest. “I want to be with you
whenever we want.”

His hand slid down her back to rest on the rounded curve of
her bottom. “And wherever?”

“Yes.” She nibbled softly on his bottom lip. “I can’t
promise more.”

His lids lowered. “It’s a start.”

She shook his arm. “I know you aren’t falling asleep on me.”

“Not my fault you have me so relaxed.”

She swatted his thigh. “Tell me something.”

“What?” he answered drowsily.

“Why do you call me by my first name when we’re…uh,
together?” She wriggled against him, her breasts teasing his chest. “You use my
name when you’re about to…”

Opening his eyes, he rolled her onto her back. “Don’t be shy
about saying certain words with me. I’ve seen your—”

She squealed. “I get the point. But why do you call out
‘Estrella’ instead of Trella? You use Trella all the time.”

He bent his head to nuzzle her neck. “I didn’t realize I’d
used your formal first name. You drive me to distraction, woman.”

Caressing his chest, she laughed as he growled against her
skin.

“I like the sound of my name when you say it,” she admitted.

He rolled onto his back, his arms flung out to his sides in
complete surrender. “Now can I nap?”

She stood at the foot of the bed. “Nope, the guys’ll be here
soon, and my pussy needs attention.”

Carlos led Jackson, Donovan and Jose into the kitchen, where
Trella served quesadillas, spicy black beans and homemade salsa. Secretly, he
figured it was her way of dealing with the memories of feeding the guys when
they would come over to work on a case.

“Thanks, I’m starving.” Jackson settled into a chair at the
kitchen table, immediately picking up one of the triangular-shaped tortillas.

Donovan and Jose joined Carlos at the table, while Trella
and Miguel settled onto nearby stools.

At Carlos’ urging, Trella recounted Hector’s conversation.

Fury showed on every man’s face when she finished talking.

“The bastard,” Jackson spat.

Miguel reached for a quesadilla, but Trella slapped his hand
away. Without a word, she slid a plate of sliced tomatoes, cottage cheese,
fresh basil and a plump grilled chicken in front of him. He grimaced but didn’t
complain.

“You locate any concrete information?” Donovan said.

Carlos tossed photos onto the table. “Found a folder with a
list of properties owned by a corporation and limited liability companies that
Rodriguez’s partnership owns interests in.”

Jackson fanned through the information. “These are all rentals?”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

“Hmm.” Jose frowned. “Drop houses would explain the large
number of real estate holdings.”

Trella paused in the middle of picking up a quesadilla.
“Drop house? You mean as in—?”

“A place to stash illegals until further payment is
received,” Jackson said.

Carlos stroked his chin. “I don’t want you guys accessing
the computer systems. I’ll have my agents do it. I don’t want to jeopardize
your jobs. No telling how far Rodriguez’s influence reaches.”

“What's the plan?” Jackson asked.

Carlos paced the floor. “Visit each location, see if
anything looks suspicious, but don’t case the joints. I want your general
impression of the place and the area. No uniforms.”

“Hector probably has a lot riding on the success of this shipment.”
Jose warned.

“Meaning?” Miguel speared a slice of tomato with a fork.

“There may be folks watching the places. They don’t need to
get a good look at us,” Jose said.

“What about bringing Immigration and Customs in?” Donovan
asked.

Carlos shook his head. “If ICE investigates, someone may tip
off Rodriguez and put Trella in more danger. We have to consider the
implication of the fact that this operation has thrived despite a crackdown at
the borders, which means there may be more eyes and ears than we’re aware of.”

“If we want, my contact at ICE will keep an investigation on
the down low. Especially if there’s the potentiality of a city official
involved in the matter.”

Trella pointed at a photo. “What’s that?”

“An old warehouse.” Carlos scooped the photos off the table
then handed them to Jose. “Any luck on lifting prints from the package Trella
received?”

Jose frowned. “We weren’t able to lift any fingerprints
other than yours, Trella’s and Miguel’s.”

Stifling a yawn, she rose to her feet. “You guys enjoy as
much food as you want.” She shot Miguel a glare. “Except for you.”

Miguel pouted.

She stood behind Carlos, one hand resting on his shoulder.
“I hope you guys don’t mind excusing me. I need a nap.”

Choruses of “no problem” echoed through the kitchen as
Carlos refilled his plate. When he regained his seat, Jackson slapped Carlos a
high-five.

“A nap? You’re the man.”

“You wore her out,” Donovan joked.

“Stop. That’s not what she said.” Though he protested,
Carlos found it impossible to keep a grin off his face.

“You two seem cozy,” Jose added.

“She’s like a sister, so you better not hurt her,” Donovan
added.

“Did you see her point at the warehouse where Louis was
killed?” Jackson asked.

When she’d looked at the photo, Carlos had wondered if she
remembered. She’d seen the place only once…when she’d insisted on viewing the
site where Louis lost his life.

“I was hoping she wouldn’t ask for a closer look.”

Donovan banged a fist on the table. “Rodriguez has to pay
for what he’s done.”

Carlos looked at the men, one at a time, secure in the
knowledge each one of them had Trella’s best interests at heart. Satisfied, he
nodded. It would take all of them to bring Rodriguez’s operation down.

* * * * *

With Carlos checking various properties Hector owned, Trella
entertained Melissa and Selina the next morning around the pool. They lay on
lounge chairs, soaking up the sun while Trella filled them in on her recent
trip to Vegas.

“Who’s Bambi again?” Melissa asked.

“Carlos’ friend with benefits,” Selina offered.

Melissa slid a pair of large black sunglasses onto her nose.
“Is she still in the picture?”

Trella sighed. “He says no, but at some point, he’ll return
to Vegas. Long distance relationships aren’t for me.”

“Love’s a risk, no matter where the man lives,
chica
.”

“Who said it was love?”

“Isn’t it?” Melissa asked.

“No,” she said sharply. “I mean, we’ve grown closer.”

“Yeah, right. That’s a fancy way of saying he’s seen your
birthday suit.”

“Selina!”

“I knew it. You didn’t deny it. No harm. I don’t know how
you lasted this long. If I had his fine ass under my roof, I’d have hung a
Do
Not Disturb
sign on my front door.”

Trella laughed at Selina’s silliness, already feeling the
stress melt away.

Selina fanned herself. “Take a chance. Carlos is a good man.
And did I mention sexy?”

“Yeah, but maybe I’m caught up because he’s staying here and
is accessible.”

Melissa eyed Trella over the top of her glasses. “No way
could I concentrate while painting the man.”

“It was hard work.”

Selina smirked. “Bet it wasn’t the only thing hard.”

“So, how was he? Worth waiting for?” Melissa asked.

Trella didn’t bother keeping a smug smile off her face.
“Definitely.”

Selina clapped a hand against her thigh. “I knew it. The
sparks between the two of you at the birthday dinner gave it away.”

Trella swatted her friend’s arm. “We weren’t intimate then.”

Selina smirked. “Yeah, but you wanted to be.”

Melissa rubbed sunblock on her arms. “I think Carlos
realized who he wants and kicked ‘ole Bambi to the forest.”

“You just want Trella to keep Carlos around so he can hook
you up with Jose.”

“True, but so what?” Melissa shrugged. “You’re not
interested in him. You don’t even know what type of man you want.”

Selina grinned. “I’m happy playing the field. Besides, my
career’s hot. I can’t focus on a man.”

Melissa left the chaise to sit on the edge of the pool, legs
dangling in the water. “What happens after your show?”

“I suppose Carlos will return to Vegas.”

Selina joined Melissa. “So it’s just great sex?”

Though he’d called it making love, he didn’t love her. It
wasn’t his M.O. Men like Carlos preferred light, unencumbered encounters.
Shifting on the lounger, Trella sighed. “Yep…just great sex.”

* * * * *

Carlos traveled down the street he hadn’t been on since the
day Louis died. He slowed the Jeep to a stop in front of the warehouse then cut
the engine. He pulled the ball cap lower on his head. Donovan, Jackson and Jose
were checking out other locations on the list he’d found in Rodriguez’s home.

Weeds grew unchecked along the front of the large, box-style
building. Two rabbits hopped around near the curb, unconcerned about his
arrival. Several hundred feet away an identical dilapidated building sported
boarded windows.

The past washed over him like the unavoidable desert heat.
The sounds of that fateful day reverberated through his mind—the heart-stopping
pop of a gunshot, feet running, shouts for help, emergency sirens.

A lunch delivery van approached on the opposite lane. Carlos
slid farther down in the seat and adjusted the polarized sunglasses he wore
just as the vehicle passed him. He observed it in his rearview mirror as it
continued down the street to the entrance of a construction company.

He waited several minutes then climbed from the vehicle.
Wiping a hand down his face, he strode toward the double steel doors.

He twisted the doorknob. Locked.

He walked around the building to the rear and stopped,
immediately noticing the glass panes appeared newer and not as dusty. He inched
closer, peering inside. No stacked barrels cluttered the floor.

He walked farther down then peered in a window again, seeing
the door Louis had tried to access. It stood wide open. He continued walking
around the building, trying every door he passed, but all were locked.

He observed the area for a few more minutes before returning
to his vehicle. As he drove away, he had the feeling he was missing something.
If the warehouse functioned as a drop house, why was there no evidence of
anyone living there? Had Rodriguez included the building on the list by
mistake?

When Carlos turned the truck into Trella’s driveway, Melissa
and Selina were climbing into Selina’s white BMW sedan. He parked beside them.

With a wave of her hand, Selina indicated for him to lower
his passenger side window.

He pressed a button, allowing the tinted glass to descend.

She leaned over the side of the door. “We’re rooting for you,
but you need to get your act together.”

“What?”

She smirked. “If you want to keep Trella, leave Bambi
grazing in the forest with the other animals.”

He cut his engine and hopped out of the Jeep. Normally, he
didn’t care for people having a say about his business, but in this case, he
could use their help.

“How do I make her realize I’m serious?”

“Be there for her.” Melissa piped up from the sedan’s
passenger seat. “No matter how much she pushes you away.”

He glanced at the house, hoping the subject of their
conversation wasn’t watching. “Do I have a chance?”

Selina brushed a hand over her hair. “You have more than a
chance, but don’t screw it up.”

He bowed. “I see why you’re both special to her.”

Melissa eyed him as she sucked her teeth. “Don’t forget it,
either. If need be, we kick butt for her, too.”

Laughing, Carlos shook his head, as Selina peeled out of the
driveway. He opened the door, set the alarm then searched for his favorite
female.

He found her beyond the patio in the pool. He kneeled at the
concrete edge as she swam a lap toward him.

“Hey, you.”

He greeted her as she climbed out, wearing a one-piece
swimsuit with a deep, plunging front. Two tortoiseshell rings connected the
sides of the material an inch or so above her navel.

She patted her face dry. “How’d it go?”

He straightened. “We’re making progress.”

She sauntered past, giving him a heart-stopping view of her
rear. His cock stirred to attention. She stretched out on a lounger, arms
behind her head.

“I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to enjoy the pool.”
She gestured at his clothes. “Strip and swim a few laps.”

He grinned. “In front of you?”

“Absolutely.”

Carlos shed his jeans and shirt, standing in front of her
wearing black boxer-briefs.

“I love your body,” she breathed. “You’re an artist’s wet
dream.”

His erection strained against the material in response to
her obvious enjoyment of his physique. “Not just any artist. I’m happy being
your muse.”

Trella grinned. “Thank goodness.” She hooked her fingers in
the waistband of his underwear. The brush of her nails against his legs as she
dragged the material to his ankles caused him to shudder.

“Last one in has to cook dinner.”

She dived into the pool, leaving him to recover from her
touch.

Carlos kicked his briefs off his ankles. He plunged into the
cool water after her, quickly cutting the lead with his long strokes. He
wrapped a hand around her waist, stilling her movement as he slid up her body.

She wiped a hand down her face. “You’re cooking tonight.”

“Because I was the last one in the pool?”

She nodded. “That’s the rule.”

“Your rule. Here’s mine—first one to come cooks dinner.”

He eased the bottom of her swimsuit aside, giving his
fingers access to her pussy. He palmed her, rubbing her softly, then slid his
fingers back and forth over her clit. He peppered her neck with kisses. When he
gently sucked on the sensitive spot beneath her ear, she moaned, shifting to
allow him greater access.

The sound of the perimeter alarm roused him from his
headlong dive into loving her.

She gasped. “Did you hear the alarm?”

Carlos was already up and out of the water. He raced into
the house to view the camera. Alfonso was busy helping his grandchildren climb
from his white pick-up.

Carlos hurried back to the patio. “It’s Alfonso.”

“I’ll answer the door. You get dressed.” She hastily slid on
a terry-cloth cover-up. “Saved by Alfonso.”

“You better thank him, because you were going down, woman.”

“Thought I did that yesterday.”

As Trella sashayed into the house, Carlos’ laughter floated
to her ears.

By the time she opened the front door, Alfonso stood on the
porch, Adam holding one hand and Maria grasping the other.

“Good to see you again, Alfonso.” She bent at the waist to
put herself near the children’s eye level. “Nice to see you two.” She
straightened. “Come on in.”

“Hate to bother you, but is Carlos around?”

“He is. He’s out on the patio.” She led the way, not failing
to notice the boy’s quiet but wide-eyed study of her home.

Clothed once more in jeans and t-shirt, Carlos stood with
his arms folded in front of his chest, watching sports highlights as the small
crowd joined him outside.