TheFugitivesSexyBrother (6 page)

Javier grinned up at her. “A woman who likes to take
charge…”

Emily’s cheeks heated. She froze. “Actually, I’m usually not
like this.”

“Hey, don’t get embarrassed. I like it. I’ve never had a
woman handcuff me and climb on top. It’s pretty hot.”

His face seemed open and sincere. Everything about his body
declared that he
did
in fact like it. But the insecurity she’d felt with
Matthew could not be banished so easily, and this time she blessed it for
bringing her back to the reality of the situation. Emily eased out of her
straddle, rearranging herself to sit on the couch beside his chest. “I’ve
always been the one in the handcuffs,” she confessed. Her blush spread down her
neck. That wasn’t the firm denial she’d intended to deliver.

Javier lifted himself into a crunch and looked Emily in the
eye. His restraints prevented him from propping himself up with an arm, but the
position seemed effortless. He came in for another kiss. Emily pulled back to
prevent herself from getting lost in it. Her lips clung to his for a moment
before separating. “If you’d like to free my hands, I’d be more than happy to
put the handcuffs on you instead,” Javier said.

There it was. He still thought he could seduce her into
letting him escape. “That would be the worst idea I’ve had in a while.”

“I could make it the best.”

Emily’s body agreed with the suggestion. She smiled, but she
just could not give in to that idea. Not under the circumstances, no matter how
much she wanted to. Emily brushed her lips against his forehead and pushed his
chest with both hands until he lay flat again. When she’d gotten him in place,
she backed away resolutely and turned. She couldn’t afford to let this
continue. This had gone past worries about being a bad bounty hunter. She was
going to get herself hurt.

“I know what you must think considering the way I brought
you here,” Emily said. “But you don’t have to keep trying to seduce me. It’s
not right for me to keep you here, and I swear I have ethics. Can we make an
agreement? I let you go right now, and you promise not to go to your brother.”

She heard nothing behind her. Emily’s spine itched. She
couldn’t stop being aware of his body. She could still taste him on her lips.
Finally Javier laughed. Emily whirled and found him sitting up on the couch
shaking his head. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

She bit her lip. Maybe Matthew had been right. She’d been in
over her head the moment this job started and things were only getting worse.
“What do you mean? What did I say?”

“You think I could walk away from here and
not
go to
my brother?” Javier shook his head. “Why would I want to leave here badly
enough to take that deal? Are you planning to torture me?”

Emily glanced back at him, confronted by his teasing
half-smile. “Of course not.”

Something flickered over Javier’s face. He sat up fully, maneuvering
awkwardly to tuck his legs up on the couch Indian-style. “Then keep me with
you.”

“What? Why?”

All of the flirtation had gone out of him. Javier now fixed
Emily with an intense, smoldering expression that affected her even more
deeply. He closed his eyes. The words he spoke seemed to cause him pain. “When
you told me what Fernando is supposed to have done…”

Emily moved closer. She wanted to reach out and comfort him
but fisted her hands at her sides instead. “Yes?”

His eyes snapped open and the raw anguish in them took
Emily’s breath away. “Fernando is the only person who’s ever cared about me. He
gave me everything I’ve ever had. If you let me go, I
have
to go to him
and tell him everything I can about who you are and how to stay away from you.”

He trailed off. Emily returned to the couch and nodded for
him to go on.

“I don’t know if I want to,” Javier whispered. “If he really
did shoot a little girl.” He shrugged his shoulders, the gesture emphasizing
the restraints that still held his arms behind his back. “I’d kind of like for
you to keep me here, at least until I figure out what to do. I’m not trying to
seduce you so that you’ll let me go. I’m trying to seduce you so that you’ll
let me stay.”

Fernando Bonavita sat on the stoop in front of Carolina’s
modest rented house in Pawtucket. The neighborhood had gone to seed years ago,
but Carolina had transformed her little piece of it into a jewel that redeemed
all the rest. With fall coming on, her garden’s colors had turned to brilliant
oranges, reds and golds. Pumpkins and winter squash and tomatoes burst forth
from patches in the front and back of the house. Birds still came to the
feeders that swung from the two tall trees that screened the house from the
main road.

Fernando smiled up at them, remembering how hard it had been
to convince her to let him help her get them up the ladder. He had repainted
the exterior of the house for her too, stripping to his undershirt in the brisk
spring air, exchanging passionate looks with her through her kitchen windows.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against her front door.
He’d tried to keep Carolina completely separate from his criminal life. He had
no business being here at all—he could be putting her in danger. Not only that,
if anyone did know about his connection to her, this would be one of the first
places they’d look for him.

None of that mattered beside the simple fact that he had to
see her. He could not leave without trying to take her with him, and he could
not bear to consider what he would do if she would not come.

Tires scraped against the driveway. Fernando stayed where he
was. A moment later, a car door slammed and rubber soles slapped against
concrete toward where he sat. They stopped abruptly and he finally sat up and
looked at her.

She still wore her scrubs from work, but even their
washed-out blue could not dull the glow of her dark skin or hide her generous
curves. Every time Fernando saw her thick black hair bound up in the severe bun
she wore to work, he wanted to undo it, run his fingers through it and rub his
face in it. He knew she hated him to see her without makeup, but he liked the
bare beauty of her unadorned face as much as he liked the polished,
pulled-together gleam she put on for his benefit. Fernando smiled at the sight
of her and only noticed her tears a moment later.

He leaped up and ran to her, gathering her into his arms
before he could think of anything else. She shifted restlessly in his grasp and
he knew she felt the bulges he’d planned to conceal from her—the wads of cash
in his left pants pocket, the gold watches in his right and maybe even the hard
and unmistakable shape of the gun in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Fernando?” Her voice was a shaky whisper. “What are you
doing here without your car?”

“We can talk about that soon, Carolina. First, tell me
what’s wrong.”

She bit her lip, and he knew. Fernando’s stomach twisted.
How many times had he thought about telling her the truth? It had never seemed
like the right time, and now she’d heard from someone else. “Let’s go inside,”
she said, and when she took his hand to lead him in, Fernando felt the change
in the way she touched him.

Carolina looked over her shoulder before she unlocked the
door. She kept her body angled away from him, never quite trusting him with her
back. His heart sank further, even though she took him into the cozy, familiar
kitchen where they had eaten so many happy meals. Her cheerful flowered
curtains and bright-yellow walls already seemed like they belonged in someone
else’s life.

Fernando took a seat in his usual chair. Carolina made two
cups of strong coffee in silence before joining him at the table. He cleared
his throat to speak, but she cut him off before he could begin with a sharp,
uncharacteristic gesture. “You told me you worked in finance.”

He wanted to throw himself to the tiled floor, to beg her
from his knees. However she would have reacted to that display, too many years
of pride made it impossible. Fernando only lifted an eyebrow.

His deflection clearly threw her off. Perhaps she had braced
herself for denials or threats. Her eyes raced up and down his body, seeming
unable to settle anywhere. Fernando caught her gaze with his and nodded to
prompt her.

“You don’t, do you?” Carolina’s words trembled.

“Why are you asking me this?’

Anger now. It flushed her cheeks, made her sit up straight,
caused her elegant hands to slap down flat on the table. “I listened to the
radio on the way home from work, Fernando. I heard all about who you really
are.”

And that was it. Fernando had feared and imagined this
moment since the night he’d met Carolina. On the way to her place from the club
where he’d found her, he had mused on what it would be like to see this
betrayed expression on her face. That had been his first sign that he would see
her for more than one night.

“I’ll answer any question you want to ask.” He felt
strangely flat, as if this had already happened, as if everything were already
over.

She drummed her fingers on the table, the nails painted deep
plum. Fernando remembered lying beside her while she’d done that, admiring her
easy flexibility when she tucked her legs up to paint her toes. “When were you
going to tell me?”

“Carolina. I was always planning to tell you the truth.”

“When?” Her voice rose from defeated whisper to full
outrage.

“Before things got too serious.” Fernando regretted the
words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

“Too serious? Too serious?” Carolina sat back in her chair
as suddenly as if he had slapped her. “How serious were you waiting for it to
get?” She glanced around her kitchen, and Fernando knew what she saw. The
plates he had bought her. The cabinets he had polished. The tablecloth she had
picked out while at the store with him. From the beginning, he had felt an
incredible urge to mark Carolina’s home as his, to make sure she saw him
wherever she looked. He had indulged it without restraint.

As he followed her gaze to the little items he’d thought
could claim her, Fernando’s emotions flooded back into his chest with a
vengeance. They swept him away. “Carolina—”

That sharp hand gesture again. She didn’t speak, instead
just shaking her head.

“Whatever I can do to explain…”

“Not yet. Please. Not yet.” Tears threatened to pour from
her eyes. Fernando wanted to kiss them away, but for the first time wasn’t sure
if he was allowed. Carolina sighed, pushed her chair back from the table and
stood. “I need a shower.”

She turned and left him. She kicked off her shoes on the way
down the hallway. Their light rubber thwacked softly against the bare wooden
floor as she discarded them. Fernando stared after her, not sure what he was
supposed to do.

Carolina flicked on the bathroom light, paused in the
doorway and looked over her shoulder at him. “Are you coming?”

Fernando scrambled to his feet and went to her. He wasn’t
about to make her ask him twice. She closed the bathroom door and threw herself
at him. She kissed without regard for balance or sanity. Her teeth found his
neck as much as her soft lips. She bit where in the past she had always
caressed.

He fell back beneath the assault and let her knock him to
the floor in her fervor. They overturned a large jar of lavender bath salts she
kept beside the tub. The beads spilled, crunching beneath their bodies,
crushing into Fernando’s carefully pressed suit and releasing their scent.

On any other day, he would have cared, but this time he just
closed his eyes and let Carolina rip away his jacket. It fell beside them with
a metallic
thunk
. She dispensed with the rest of his clothes the same
way, then pressed against his body, the fabric of her scrubs scratching his
naked skin.

She snaked her arms around him, working them under his back.
Fernando returned her embrace. The moment his arms closed around her she went
still. “I think I hate you right now, Fernando.”

He didn’t know what to say. He lifted his head and found her
mouth open and waiting for his kiss. He held her ever tighter as he kissed her,
clasping her delicious curves against him. His left hand traveled up the side
of her neck until he cupped her head. Cradling her, he rolled them over,
settling her back against her fluffy blue bath mat. Fernando pulled away from
the kiss to help her out of her scrubs. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

She squirmed beneath him, lifting an elbow so he could free
her of a sleeve. She tucked her ankles around his. “Don’t let me go,” she said.
“For just a little while, I don’t want you to give me a choice.”

Fernando understood what she was asking. He kissed her
forehead and stood, leaving her on the floor for a moment while he rummaged in
the back of a drawer. Carolina shivered when he pulled out the restraints.

He knelt beside her and she wrapped her arms around his neck
like a child. Fernando lifted her up, then into the tub. Finally, Carolina gave
him the lover’s smile he craved. She held his gaze as she put her hands up to
the discreet metal bar he had installed just above the lip of the tub.

“You know what to say if you want out,” he reminded her.

“
Basta
.”

“Right.” He clipped on the restraints, trapping her hands
above her head and leaving her body at his mercy. Then Fernando turned on the
water in the tub, careful to move her legs away from the stream until it warmed
to a pleasant temperature. He covered the drain, then scooped a few handfuls of
the lavender beads off the floor and into the water.

Water filled the tub and the scent of lavender wafted more
strongly through the air. At first all Fernando did was play with her hair. He
undid the bun, then finger-combed her hair out in long, black tresses to either
side of her face. He took her brush off the sink and used it until the water
level rose high enough to make her breasts float.

Sometimes when he did this she would talk about her day, or
even giggle. This time she just watched him, tears welling up in her eyes. The
silence unsettled him and sharpened his fervent desire to touch her everywhere.

When Fernando finally set the brush down, he took up a
washcloth. He anointed it with honey-scented soap, then leaned over the edge of
the tub and stroked it slowly down the side of her face and neck. She purred
under its rough touch. He rinsed the soap away with water poured from a cupped
hand.

Carolina smiled in response. He saw her relax, her arms
loose and comfortable where they hung from her wrist restraints. Fernando let
out the breath he’d been holding and began to wash her in earnest. With the
cloth, he gently scrubbed every inch of her warm, gleaming skin. He smoothed it
down her side, traced circles over her stomach and worked his way up between
the soft flesh of her breasts. To reach her back, he climbed partially into the
tub and embraced her, whispering endearments in her ear as he washed her. He
lifted her long legs out of the water one at a time, massaging her thighs,
calves and feet as he scrubbed. Fernando wanted to memorize every sensation of
her smooth, wet body against his.

His cock throbbed before him, erect and wanting her, but he
forced himself to wait.

He knelt in the water, straddling her, and traded the cloth
for his hands. Now he rubbed rose-scented body conditioner onto her arms,
shoulders, neck, and then over her soft, full breasts. He adored Carolina’s
body. He loved being the one who did things for her. Fernando’s fingertips
brushed her captured wrist. He interlaced his fingers with hers. Words would
have failed him—he was glad he didn’t have to speak.

She tilted her head back, shaking a lock of black hair out
of her dark eyes. Her full lips curved and opened slightly, enough for him to
see the questioning tip of her tongue. Fernando accepted the invitation, lowering
himself more fully into the water on top of her, wrapping his whole body around
her and taking her mouth.

In that moment, he could pretend she belonged to him. He
could let his trouble fade, becoming only a man, alone with a woman who gave
herself to him freely and completely.

Fernando held his weight off Carolina with one arm while he
shifted to the side to allow room for the other to slide between their bodies.
He touched the tip of one hard nipple and watched Carolina’s eyes. She closed
them and arched her back toward his touch. “Don’t let me go,” she whispered.

He kissed her again and rolled the nipple between his
fingers, tugging and twisting it slightly. When her breathing became fast and
heavy, Fernando released her breast and brought his hand down between her legs.

He started by simply stroking her thighs, in and out of the
water, sometimes using light scratches, sometimes rubbing firmly and sometimes
barely feathering his fingertips over her. Then he gave her the palm of his
hand, keeping it steady and strong over her mound. Carolina lifted her hips and
rubbed against it. Fernando could feel her body’s wetness, thicker and slicker
than the water.

He watched her face, already flushed from the heat of the
bath, grow even rosier. She clenched her teeth and wrinkled her forehead as she
sought her pleasure. Fernando grinned as she used her bound hands for leverage
to lift higher and harder against the stimulation he offered.

“Here,” he whispered, and increased his pressure, pressing
her back down into the water, pinning her against the porcelain surface of the
tub. He adjusted his hand to bring his thumb toward her clit. He circled around
it patiently, gradually approaching the erect nub, increasing his pressure as
he did. His first direct touches to the sensitive flesh were fast and fleeting,
but as she grew used to the sensation, Fernando adjusted his circles to rub
firmly over her clit.

Carolina’s breath began to come in gasps. He kissed her to
feel her moan into his mouth. She worked her tongue against his as desperately
as she moved her hips.

Fernando continued to slowly draw the orgasm from her. He
never wanted the moment to end. He let his fingertips tease her lips and
entrance as he circled his thumb. Little cries sobbed from the back of Carolina’s
throat and into his mouth, then she suddenly threw her head back and pressed up
against his hand so hard that her hips lifted above the waterline. Fernando
released the kiss and watched the glorious play of ecstasy across her beautiful
face. He felt pre-cum weeping from his cock, but still he wanted to delay the
moment.