13. Miguel
13
MIGUEL
I sabel didn’t just kiss me. She whimpered the sexiest sounds of pure need. She clutched me with the most determined dedication to never releasing me. And she moved against me, rubbing those huge tits up my chest, as if she couldn’t settle for making out in the steamy shower, but she needed to feel me everywhere.
“Isabel…” I pulled back for a pull of air before I’d pass out.
She nodded. “Yeah.” Then she was back at it, brushing her lips over mine and encouraging me to hold her tighter.
Fuck.
She blew my mind. She kissed like no other woman I’d ever met, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to give this up. To give her up. Especially not in death.
I was supposed to kill her?
I couldn’t. Not right now. Not… ever.
But some semblance of logic remained strong in my mind. Despite the haze of lust Isabel inspired in me, I couldn’t let myself lose all common sense just because she could kiss me seven ways to heaven and hell. Just because she encouraged me to say fuck it —to killing her, to figuring out what happened in that alley.
The more I smashed my lips down on hers and caged her in against the shower stall, I couldn’t lose sight of why she’d even made such a move. Why she’d reached out to me.
She had been shocked. This sweet girl had been so stunned, so traumatized that she shook like a leaf, soaked and trembling like she’d never snap out of that blank reverie. Wherever she’d escaped to mentally, she was stuck there.
At her words that she’d never seen someone be killed, I knew that she was more na?ve and delicate than what I was used to. Compared to this gorgeous artist, I was a hard, sinister soul. Killing that fucker was a pleasure, all in the name of defending her. But he was only one among so many, many more whom I’d killed.
She’d kissed me for comfort. Not out of desire. She’d begged me not to leave her alone for the sake of security. Not for my company.
Even though she reacted more now, trying to climb me and latch on to me as we kissed, in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. It wasn’t natural, like how we’d come together against that column in the club.
This wasn’t only physical.
And when it came to her, I wanted it all. The real lust. The heady desire. The undeniable connection and need.
Kissing Isabel as she went through the motions of distracting herself wasn’t enough.
I wanted her to want me. I wanted her to acknowledge her need for me.
“Isabel.” I broke the kiss again, pulling her with me to step away from the wall.
She gazed at me hungrily. While that vacant look was gone from her eyes, I knew this was a sign of her snapping out of that shock, not that she was all in with this moment. I was still just a distraction, a stepping stone leading her out of that trauma.
Guiding her from the water, I leaned over to shut it off.
“But…” She furrowed her brow, peering at me as I brushed her wet hair back. “I—” Now she frowned fully, looking at me with clear disappointment that I’d retreated. But something else showed, too. “Who are you?” She licked her lips, teasing me, but almost scowled.
I handed her a towel, and she took it from me to wrap around her, clothes and all. That dress wasn’t much of a layer, anyway.
“I don’t even know your name and…” She shook her head, watching me warily.
Now that we weren’t kissing or hugging, she was more business.
“Miguel,” I replied, finding a secret, illicit pride that I wouldn’t use one of my many aliases with her. I wanted her to know me , including my real name.
“Miguel Cruz,” she confirmed, proving she’d heard the man in the lobby.
“We need to talk,” I said before she could tempt me to kiss her again. Before she could ask me any other questions, of which I was sure she had. This was my turn to get some answers, and she would face my questions now.
First of all, I had to figure out who the fuck that man was. I’d killed him for her, but the more I calmed down away from the site of danger, I couldn’t ignore that fleeting suspicion that I recognized him. That I’d heard him before.
If he was just a stranger preying on a single woman passing by, that was one thing.
But if he was someone from the Cartel I’d met or a representative from another crime family, his focus on Isabel would mean something much different.
“Like why you’re following me?” she asked bluntly as I tore off my wet shirt.
I grabbed a towel and began to dry myself off as I led the way out of the too-steamy bathroom. “Don’t pretend that you weren’t happy about my following you an hour ago.”
She followed me out, using a second towel she’d picked up to dry her long, black locks. “I was. I am. As twisted and fucked-up as it is for me to say this… Thank you.”
I glanced back at her as she strained to swallow, seeming to struggle with getting the words out.
“Thank you for…”
“Helping you,” I finished for her.
She shook her head, her brown eyes defiant. “No. For saving me.”
How ironic. I had been chasing her to kill her, and now I starred as the opposite. Her savior. Her hero. And fuck, if I didn’t love the sound of that. It suggested that she was mine , too. After convincing myself she would never be mine, would never be an option, it was damned exciting to think differently about her now.
“Why are you following me?” she asked.
I shot her a stern look as she slipped out of her heels. “No. It’s my time to ask the questions.”
She crossed her arms, keeping the towel around her.
“You tell me,” I said instead of peppering her with a question. “Why would I be following you?”
Maybe knowing what Louis was up to, what shit he’d caused to hit the proverbial fan, would give me a hint of why that other fucker had targeted her.
Her mouth hung open as she stared at me. “What?”
“Yeah. You tell me, Isabel. Why would I be chasing you down?”
She blinked, scowling as she lowered her gaze. “I have no fucking clue.”
There we go. That’s more like it. Every trace of trauma and fear was gone from her eyes. Her sass was a welcome return to the fiery, spirited woman I’d met and wanted too much for my own good.
“No clue?” I wasn’t buying that.
“Yeah, no clue,” she shot back.
“You didn’t seem surprised that I was following you when you first noticed it. You didn’t do the sensible thing like go to the cops and say that a stranger was stalking you.”
“Because they wouldn’t know how to help. They wouldn’t know what to do. Besides, I knew you’d keep looking and looking. I…” She faltered, lowering her gaze again. “I didn’t realize you’d be there when that man jumped out at me, but…”
“No.” I stepped closer, surprising her enough that she looked up, frowned, and retreated a couple of feet.
“No, you’re not slipping back into that shock again. Don’t go there. Don’t think about it. Why would you be so casual about someone following you?”
“Because my father is Louis Flores.” She tipped her chin up.
Now we’re getting somewhere, sweetheart. She didn’t deny it, but as she stated the fact, she didn’t seem happy or proud about that association.
“He’s a corrupt, sneaky, deceiving liar and asshole who’s fucked over countless people all over the world all so he can be as rich, as powerful, and as superior as he thinks he can be.” She grunted a weak laugh. “He’s who you want. Not me.”
“Not so.”
My original contract was to take him out. Louis Flores was my target until someone had tipped him off that there was a real and active hit out on him. He’d gone into hiding and Drago told me to kidnap, then kill, her instead.
“You think you’re going to get anything from me ?” She pointed at herself and scowled as she backed up again. The towel sagged, then dropped from her as she seemed to angle for the door.
Fifteen minutes ago, yeah, I would’ve been really confident in thinking I’d get something from her. An orgasm or three. More kissing and the chance to lead up to what I assumed would be, hands down, the hottest and best sex of my life.
I saw no desire sparking in her eyes now. Only anger. I stalked after her, backing her up across the room. Still, this game of chase was too addicting to stop.
“You’re looking in the wrong place for answers about Louis. I cut ties with him years ago. I know nothing about him. Nothing of value. I haven’t heard from him since I walked away with nothing. I haven’t seen him, and I never want to again.”
“You cut ties with him but you’ll still be quick to assume he’s the reason someone would be after you ?”
She nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have nothing to do with it. The only reason anyone would care to follow me is to use me as leverage. As a pawn for something to do with him.”
“What are you suggesting?—”
She growled. “I’m not ‘suggesting’ anything, Miguel. I am innocent. I’m clueless. I have zero answers or clues or tips to offer anyone looking for Louis Flores.”
“That’s bullshit.” I shook my head and ran my hand over my wet hair, slicking it back. “You have to know something. You have to have something or?—”
“I don’t!” She insisted it with fire sparking in her eyes. Maybe she believed that, but I wouldn’t be so quick to take her word for it.
“Then why was that other man looking for you too?”
Her brow lined as she stared at me for a long moment. I’d knocked that attitude and sass down a little bit. Now she looked at me like I’d spoken another language.
“What other man?”
“The man in the alley.”
She gaped at me. “He–He was just trying to rape me. And kill me!”
Maybe. Maybe not. I couldn’t reject the slight possibility that I’d met that man before.
“He was just a fucking scumbag of a rapist, waiting around for some woman to attack. That…” She swallowed hard and winced, no doubt uneasy to talk about him at all this soon. “That could happen to any woman. Any woman walking down any dark alley could face something like that.”
I wasn’t so sure.
“He wasn’t following me and stalking me.”
I had to agree with her on that point. I had been following her. If someone else had been trying to chase after her too, I would’ve noticed them lurking and lingering nearby.
“He had no clue who I was. I was just… a woman to turn into a victim.”
Watching her scowl at the floor and wrap her arms around herself in a tight hug, I fought the need to comfort her and not let her sink back into that depression.
“He was only after me for… that.”
I’m not so sure, sweetheart.
The only thing I could be sure about was the fact that this “one last job” before my time off was getting far more complicated and layered than I ever thought it would.