When Lies Unfold

Chapter 38

In quick,clipped strides, I lead Lola from the room and down one of the hallways until I arrive at the nearest spare bedroom.

Shovin’ open the door, I yank her inside and kick the door closed behind us. With a slap of my palm against the light switch, a subtle glow illuminates the space.

Lola’s hair is a mess from Andro’s goddamn hand, and she’s still clutchin’ that spoon in a death grip. Her chest rises and falls with anxious breaths.

I try to keep my voice low and as calm as possible. It’s not easy since I’m feelin’ unhinged after what just happened. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

I soften my tone. “You gonna let go of that spoon?”

Her eyes drop to it like she’s just now realized it’s still in her hand. “Oh. Um, yeah.” She glances around for somewhere to put it, but I extend my palm. Once she relinquishes it, I tuck it inside my suit jacket pocket, my focus never veerin’ from her.

“Andro had no business layin’ a hand on you.”

When her shoulders stiffen, I wonder if she’s expectin’ me to give her shit over what she did. But all she says is, “I can handle myself.”

I let out a grunt. “Pretty obvious to everybody who was in that room just now.”

She lowers her focus to where the top two buttons at my throat are undone. Her words emerge carefully with a touch of remorse. “I didn’t want to hurt him, but?—”

With my fingers beneath her chin, I nudge it upward, forcin’ her to meet my gaze. Those big brown eyes are so fuckin’ earnest.

Maybe that’s what it is about her that draws me in. ’Cause I’m much more familiar with betrayal, shady shit, and people who talk out both sides of their mouths.

She hitches her chin in that obstinate way I’ve come to admire. “I suppose you’re planning to punish me now.”

“What?”

“You know…for what I did to Andro.”

I drop my hand from her and force myself to retreat a step. Feelin’ far too fuckin’ antsy for my likin’, I link my fingers atop my head.

My tone isn’t the least bit controlled, but I don’t give a shit right now. I’m irritated as fuck. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you just see me draw my weapon on my nephew?” I let a pause linger for a millisecond. “For the second time, I might add.”

“Yes.” Her dark brows draw together. “I saw that.”

Releasin’ my hands, I let them drop to my sides. “Then you know when I draw on somebody, I’m ready to pull that trigger.”

That crease between her brows grows deeper, and my fingers twitch with the urge to smooth it out. “But?—”

“No buts. Just facts.” At my interruption, her troubled expression intensifies. “He was tryin’ to hurt you again. And I’m not about to let anybody hurt you.”

She lets out a tiny laugh of disbelief. “Says the man who’s kept me hostage this whole time.”

I lean back against the wall and cross my arms. “Have I let anybody hurt you?”

She rolls those pretty eyes. “Not exactly, but?—”

“A simple yes or no will do.”

That fiery stubbornness sparks in her expression, and it’s a hell of a lot better than the shell-shocked one she had a moment ago. I welcome it with open fuckin’ arms. She grinds out a firm, “No.”

“And I hold true to my word.” I lower my chin while still maintainin’ eye contact, my tone filled with warnin’. “Unless you decide to fuck with me.”

Bold as fuck, she glares up at me. “I’m really tired of being constantly threatened.”

“That so?”

“Yes. That’s so,” she replies hotly. “I’ve had guns pointed at me multiple times as well as a knife, been assaulted by your nephew, endured a middle-of-the-night interrogation, been forced to fill in as a nanny, have my every move watched, and had to put up with the woman who warms your bed!”

Exasperation cloaks her voice, which rises incrementally as she tosses her hands in the air. “I never asked for any of this! All I want is to be left alone!”

Her chest heaves, and fuck if she’s not a sight to behold. Somethin’ stirs deep in the recesses of my chest, but it’s probably just the mix of my aggravation and fury with Andro.

Droppin’ my arms at my sides, I stretch my neck from side to side and flex my fingers. Our eyes hold while the air sparks with a different sort of tension. “You really want me to leave you alone?”

Her lips part to answer, but she hesitates for so long it’s like the words got stuck in her throat. When conflict flashes in those brown eyes, I shove away from the wall and close in on her. ’Cause I know what she really wants but isn’t ready to admit.

She’s strugglin’ with this—and I get why. She’s got this pure quality—even with that bit of secrecy that still clings to her—that’s worlds away from me.

I’m a criminal. A murderer. Heartless. All the things she’s not. But I’m not ashamed of it. That’s my lot in life.

I’m proud of who I’ve become, and I’m really fuckin’ proud of the empire I’ve built.

So, yeah… I understand why she’s hesitant to admit the truth. She doesn’t want me to leave her alone any more than I do. There’s been somethin’ brewin’ between us from the start.

Plantin’ my palms on either side of her, I bring my face closer to hers. Her breath catches when I lower my voice. “Didn’t hear your answer.”

I speak softly against the corner of her mouth. “You really want me to leave you alone? ’Cause I gotta be honest.”

My voice is ragged soundin’ while my lips graze her cheek. “If I had my way”—I drag my lips down to her jawline—“I’d bother you all the damn time.”

My lips find a sensitive spot at the juncture of her jawline and earlobe, and she shivers. “Just. Like. This.”

“You don’t even trust me.” Her words emerge in short bursts. “So, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but?—”

I stop short and draw back enough to survey her. I sure as hell can’t blame her for thinkin’ that. Which tells me she needs me to give a little more.

Has she given me shit just about every step of the way? Fuck, yeah. But I like it when Lola gives as good as she gets.

And she hasn’t once gone runnin’ her mouth to anybody about my business. If she was gonna do it, like Gordo said, she would’ve done it by now.

The woman guards her privacy the same way I do my business, and I haven’t shown her an ounce of gratitude for it.

Plus, my daughter trusts her—and that says a whole hell of a lot.

“If you promise not to play me”—I pin her with my probin’ gaze—“then there’s no game.”

She scans my features as if searchin’ for signs that I’m lyin’. But she won’t find a damn thing. When she stays silent, it compels me to offer somethin’ that may draw her away from her reluctance.

My collar feels like it’s suddenly grown tight enough to choke me. I tug at it and clear my throat, but my voice remains gruff and uncharacteristically hoarse. “Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

Clearly shocked by my question, her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush. “No.” Her answer’s quiet but holds a thread of surprise.

“Well, you do.” Gently sweepin’ her hair back over her shoulder, I trace a finger over the wing of one blue butterfly alongside her neck. “And not a single man in that room wasn’t thinkin’ the same.”

Goose bumps rise on her skin from my touch. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips while suspicion flares in her eyes.

Her voice is subdued but firm. “How do I know you’re not just messing with me right now?”

I drop my hands and reach for my holstered gun. Her expression immediately grows guarded, her body visibly tensin’ as she watches me remove it from the holster. I take one of her hands and place my weapon in her palm, closin’ her fingers around it. When I cover it with my hand, her eyes widen.

If Gordo were here to witness this, he’d be convinced I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Or my fuckin’ balls. It’s a close call either way.

But somethin’ drives me to do this. To put her in control and show her I can give a little. Even if it just about kills me to do so. Relinquishin’ any control isn’t like me, let alone willingly puttin’ myself in a vulnerable position.

A wrinkle forms between her dark brows as she hisses, “What’re you doing?”

“Provin’ that I’m not messin’ with you.” Our eyes hold. “I admit that I’ve taken control over your life.” Addin’ another hand, I sandwich her grip on the weapon. “This is me givin’up some of that control.”

Her gaze flits between me and the gun when I release my hold. She adjusts her grip as if testin’ out its feel.

She spears me with an indecipherable look, and when she flicks off the safety, my muscles automatically go rigid, but I don’t move.

As she mutters “Narco idiota?1” under her breath disgustedly, she lets the barest touch of a derisive smile tug at her mouth. “You’re so full of shit.”

Her remark stops me short and I frown. She doesn’t fuckin’ believe me? “What?”

Flickin’ the safety back on, she shoves the gun back at me with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t lie to me. You were about to go for the other one strapped at your ankle.”

Well, fuck. I didn’t even think of that one ’cause it just feels like a part of me.

Every muscle stiff with defensiveness, I refuse to accept the gun from her. “Is it my fault I didn’t remember? It wasn’t me bein’ sneaky. It’s like another fuckin’ appendage?—”

She presses the gun flat on its side against my chest before fittin’ her mouth to mine.

This is the first time she’s initiated a kiss…and fuck if I don’t love it.

I clumsily shove the gun back into my holster, refusin’ to tear my mouth from hers. With my fingers threaded in her hair, I tighten my hold to steer her how I want, deepenin’ the kiss and backin’ her against the wall.

That little fuckin’ moan she lets out has neediness strummin’ through me. I hike her leg up to my waist, my hand glidin’ along her silky-smooth thigh.

Her tongue slides against mine, her hands grippin’ my biceps. When I slide my hand higher to palm her ass, I can’t stop the groan that breaks free at what I discover.

“Fuck,” I exhale against her lips. “You’re bare under here.”

Her response is breathless. “You suggested it.”

Restin’ my forehead on hers, I vie for control, my fingers flexin’ around her firm ass. “How am I gonna go back to that dinner”—I trail my hand along the crease of her inner thigh and drag a finger through her slick entrance—“knowin’ this?”

When I spear her with two fingers, they glide right in, immediately cinched by her searin’ wet heat.

“Your pussy’s sayin’ it needs me.” I give one deep pump of my fingers, satisfaction coursin’ through me at her heavy-lidded eyes. “And fuck if I’ll deny it somethin’ we both want.”

I drop to my knees, shoulderin’ her thighs farther apart. Her startled tone accompanies her hands that land on my shoulders. “What’re you doing?”

Without answerin’, I shove her dress up to her waist. My cock thickens even more when I lay eyes on her sweet fuckin’ pussy. She’s so shiny, glistenin’ with every bit of want that I’m feelin’ right now.

“Hold this.” My command is curt, ’cause if I don’t get my mouth on her soon, I’m bound to lose my shit. Wide-eyed, she grips a fistful of her dress and holds it out of the way, grantin’ me a hell of a view of her from the waist down.

“Need you to know somethin’.”

A trace of apprehension has her brows creasin’. “What?”

“I don’t get on my knees for nobody.” She swallows hard as the weight of my words settles between us. I lower my face closer to where I can’t wait to bury my tongue. “But I’m doin’ this for you.”

Before she can respond, I fit my mouth over her pussy, givin’ it a wet openmouthed kiss that makes her legs quiver. Fuck does she taste good, and I drive my tongue deep inside for more of her flavor.

Her free hand finds my head, her fingers tanglin’ in my hair as I raid her perfect pussy with my tongue. Each time I dive inside for a taste, her hips arch as she tries to push my tongue even deeper.

When I lightly pinch her clit, she lets out a low moan, her fingers tightenin’ in my hair. But when she whimpers my name, my cock threatens to bust through my pants.

I’ve never been like this before. Almost fuckin’ crazed over a woman—and her pussy. I just knew it’d taste as sweet as her mouth.

Her thighs tense, and her grip on my hair tightens, threatenin’ to pull it straight from the roots, but I don’t give a shit. I want her to come all over my fuckin’ face. I wanna still taste her on my tongue while I finish up business in the other room tonight. I wanna?—

“Boss?” Gordo raps his knuckles outside the closed door. “Got people waitin’ on you.”

When I tear my mouth off her, Lola lets out another little whimper that nearly kills me. Meetin’ her lust-filled gaze, I call out to Gordo, “Gimme a minute, and I’ll be right there.”

“Got it, boss.” A moment’s hesitation follows. “Everythin’ okay?”

“Everythin’s perfect.” Holdin’ Lola’s eyes, I run my tongue along my bottom lip, savorin’ her flavor. My next words are muted, solely for her. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Conflict lights up her features as she casts a worried glance at the door. Her whisper is barely audible. “You need to?—”

“Get back to this pussy,” I finish for her. “The faster you come for me, the sooner I’ll be finishin’ up business.”

Her eyes narrow, and damn if I don’t have to fight a grin at the stubbornness that crosses her expression. “Anyone ever tell you you’re too damn bossy?”

In response, I drag my tongue along the crease of her pussy, revelin’ in her gasp. “You can complain later.” Grippin’ one hip, I fit my mouth over her and spear her with my tongue. I work her clit with my thumb while I tongue-fuck her with no remorse. I need her to come.

Her panted breaths pick up pace, stutterin’ right before shudders overtake her and she lets out a cross between a whimper and a moan. She coats my tongue with her release, her hips jerkin’, and goddamn does she taste like a fuckin’ dream.

When she sags against the wall on tremblin’ legs, I steady her with my hands. Only then do I rise to my full height and take in the view before me.

Dazed eyes stare back at me, those pale pink lips parted. When I lean in and dust my mouth over hers, she releases a serrated breath against my lips.

Confusion cloaks her barely audible whisper. “I don’t know what to think about you.”

Busyin’ myself by smoothin’ her dress back down to cover her, I search for what to say but come up empty. And I’m never at a loss for words.

Until now.

Our eyes hold for a moment before her features soften. Movements tentative, she reaches for my face and smooths her thumb along the stubble framin’ my mouth.

My voice is low and hoarse, my dick still hard as fuck and achin’ to be buried inside the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. “Better not be wipin’ away anythin’ good.”

A faint blush colors her cheeks, and damn if it isn’t the cutest fuckin’ thing I’ve seen yet. A woman who still blushes. Didn’t think they even existed these days.

“You can’t go back in there like that.” Concentration creases her brow as she slowly sweeps her thumb along my bottom lip.

“Like what?”

Hand droppin’ to her side, she gestures to my head. “I’ve messed up your little ponytail.”

I know she’s sayin’ that to try and put distance between us, but I don’t rise to the bait.

“And your mouth is…” She trails off, her blush deepenin’ before she straightens her shoulders. Then she returns to her brave, ballsy self. Liftin’ her chin a notch, she finally locks those gorgeous brown eyes with mine. “You know what I mean.”

I tug the small tie from my hair and finger-comb it before securin’ it again. Then I raise a brow in question. “All better?”

She nods.

I lean in, my voice muted. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked my little ponytail.” A grin tugs at the edges of my mouth. “Especially the way you were tuggin’ on it.”

When her mouth parts to no doubt spout off a fiery response, I get another taste of her lips. But it’s quickly interrupted when a hard knock sounds at the door.

“Boss?” Gordo’s tone is more urgent, and I know I’m pushin’ my luck like this. “Ready to go?”

Fuck. For the first time, I’m tempted to tell him to postpone it for another night. And I never screw with business, especially not over a woman.

My eyes fall closed, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Ready,” I call out.

But I’m not. I’m not the least bit ready to leave her. I open my eyes to find her peerin’ up at me with concern etched on her pretty face. “Gonna give you the choice of returnin’ with me or goin’ to your room. Either way, I’ll have my men guardin’ you and?—”

“It’s probably best if I call it a night.”

“You’ll be missin’ out on dessert.”

“Dessert’s a luxury I’m not accustomed to.” A wry, self-deprecatin’ smile tugs at her lips. “Dinners like tonight, let alone when Javier normally serves croissants and tocineta for breakfast, isn’t the norm for me. It’s more of a treat.”

She shrugs and adds, “All this fanciness isn’t exactly my style nor does it fit into my budget.”

Fuckin’ tocineta—bacon—is a treat for her? Christ. I silently vow to have Javier make her all the goddamn croissants and tocineta she wants for breakfast each mornin’.

Alma and I each experienced what it was like to be so fuckin’ hungry it felt like your stomach was tryin’ to eat itself.

With a wistful glance down at her dress, her voice turns softer. “I even feel like an imposter in this.”

Alma wasn’t used to nice things, either. Hell, she still isn’t—not really. My girl would cherish a rock as a gift just as much as any brand-new toy I could give her. I certainly don’t miss the similarities between them.

“Boss?” Gordo’s normally calm tone now carries an antsy edge.

“Comin’.”

I stamp a quick kiss on Lola’s lips before forcin’ myself to step back. “Gordo’s gonna make sure you get to your room, and Diego and Miguel are gonna stand watch.”

Her lips part, likely formin’ a protest, but I rush on. “I gotta know you’re safe tonight.”

Conflict is chased by wariness as it crosses her expression before quickly disappearin’. “Okay. I…appreciate that.”

Without thinkin’, I snag her hand in mine and lead her to the door. Gordo’s waitin’ when I tug it open.

“She’s gonna head to her room. Be sure Miguel and Diego oversee things.”

Gordo dips his chin. “You got it, boss.” He steps aside to let Lola out. Once her back’s turned, he slides me a sharp look that says, The fuck you doin’?

I stare back, holdin’ his gaze until he gives a subtle shake of his head and focuses on escortin’ Lola to her room.

Straightenin’ my collar, I run my tongue over my bottom lip, gatherin’ the lingerin’ taste of her. It fuels me to return to the dinin’ room while Gordo’s silent question replays in my mind.

The fuck am I doin’? I’m handlin’ shit—both personal and business—the way I always do.

’Cause I’m motherfuckin’ Santiago Hernández, and I rule this place.