15. Miguel
15
MIGUEL
O h, you want to run?
I darted forward, smashing my foot against the foot of the couch.
“Fuck!”
Isabel spun, yanking the door open, running out, and slamming it shut after her.
“ Fuck! ” Wincing at the stupidly potent point radiating through my foot, I made a fist and slammed it down on the top of the couch.
A fucking couch. That was what stopped me from reaching her in time to prevent her from running away.
Again.
Isabel had fled me yet again, all because I stubbed my goddamn toe on a piece of furniture. I was a professional, a killer for the Cartel, an independent hitman, and this was what got me? This was how I was slowed down from my target?
I wasn’t sure that calling Isabel my target was appropriate anymore. I wanted her too damn badly. Killing her seemed like an afterthought that I’d never bother with. Fuck that contract. Drago could shove it where it didn’t shine.
Killing Isabel wasn’t happening, not on my watch. That was why I’d killed that fucker in the alley. Beneath all the layers of confusion and frustration that I struggled with, I could not stomach the thought of losing her for good.
And I would go out of my way to prevent it. To protect her.
Even if that meant fucking running after her sassy, sexy ass again tonight.
Pausing long enough to double back and shove my feet in my shoes before grabbing my gun and wallet, I spotted her tiny clutch bag on the side table where she’d dropped it in her dazed state of shock.
Sweetheart, you’re going to regret this.
I ran out the door to chase her down.
She wasn’t even thinking. She couldn’t have been if she left her purse behind. She just operated on emotions, wanting to run and escape the hard stuff like helping me figure out why Drago, or anyone, would see her as a pawn to lure Flores out of hiding. She said several times that she’d cut ties with him. All the crap I’d looked up about her father showed nothing that would suggest he cared about his daughter.
Then why change the hit to focus on her? Why kidnap her, then say to kill her?
Nothing was making sense so far, and until I could see what was going on or have a better guess, she had to cut out this running nonsense. She couldn’t rush away at the first sign of trouble, impatience, or frustration.
I sped down the hall toward the elevator. Numbers lit up on the panel, indicating it had gone from the fifth floor to the fourth, where it sat.
“Dammit.” I shuffled to the side toward the stairwell and stampeded down the steps.
First, that fight with the man in the alley.
Now, this stupid stubbed toe that had no right to hurt even worse than the lucky punches that man had gotten in on me before I killed him.
Down and down I went, cringing and wanting to roar at Isabel for daring to take off again.
What if someone else was after her?
What if she ran further and gave me hell about facing me again?
What if?—
I shut those thoughts off as I slammed to a stop on the first floor. Punching open the door, I ran out and scanned the scene. The revolving door at the entrance was already locked for the night. Next to the sliding glass door, the valet man yawned.
Not that way.
I pivoted and sprinted out the rear doors that led to the beach.
Brilliant streaks of lightning crashed down in thick bolts of white over the ocean. Thunder boomed, rolling from one to the next as the storm passed over. The rain had slowed to a steady sheet, but now, it was back and forth, sprinkling then raining harder in bursts. Palm fronds blew to and fro with the increase of wind, but I wouldn’t let any of that stop me.
It didn’t stop Isabel, either.
With the next burst of light streaking down from the clouds, her red dress was lit up just enough for me to make out the shape of her sprinting over the beach. Her long, black hair streamed behind her as she pumped her arms. Barefoot and desperate, she ran and ran.
Found you. I gritted my teeth, charging after her.
I told her that I’d find her. I warned her. She had plenty of clues about what would happen.
But as I got closer, she looked over her shoulder, and the sight of her face tricked me.
She didn’t look panicked, but rather, determined. Her eyes narrowed not in fright of being chased, but in something that almost looked like excitement.
Damn if she wasn’t enjoying this… if she wasn’t riled up by the challenge of me chasing her down…
You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.
I dug in my feet, running harder to close in on her. The tips of her hair flew almost within my reach. Her elbows shot back with her stride. Sand kicked up from the pushes of her bare feet over the beach.
She… was… right… there.
Racing on adrenaline and keeping a tight rein on both my anger and desire for her, I picked up my feet just a little faster, and with one more lunge forward, I had her.
She cried out as I gripped her upper arm, hauling her to the side and breaking her stride. As she toppled over, I did too, but it wasn’t clear who went where as we fell to the sand. I grabbed her fully, hugging her to me as I rolled, taking the brunt of the drop. She slammed her hands out, thrusting her arms to either shove me back or break the fall to the sand.
It didn’t matter.
I had her.
I had this feisty, stubborn woman in my arms and I wasn’t letting her go.
“Miguel!”
Oh, don’t start. Tossing my name out like that… She was only making me burn hotter for her. That sassy, Latina voice full of indignation. She’d push and I’d pull. We’d already made it clear that was how we worked together, clashing and colliding.
On the final rotation of our roll in the sand, I secured her beneath me, trapping her to the sand. Pushing her down hard, I glared at her as she wheezed and caught her breath.
“I told you.” I shook my head as she bucked up, trying futilely to get free again.
“I told you,” I repeated in a growl as I pinned her there.
Rain still fell. Lightning and thunder continued in the distance. It was just me and her out here, and finally, I lost it. The fraying thread of my temper and patience gave way. The next time she pushed and wiggled to get free, I grabbed her hands and thrust them up over her head. With the flatter position over the sand, her chest stretched and her back arching up at me, she narrowed her eyes.
Stubborn and defiant to the end.
I’d caught her, and still she looked at me with such a fight blazing in her brown gaze.
“I told you I’d catch you.”
She huffed. “So what? I’m done. I’m done with you.”
“Too fucking bad, sweetheart. Because I’m only starting with you.”
Her lips parted open as she stared at me. Memorizing this moment, I paused and studied her, wondering how in the hell she could be the one to make me not want to finish a job. How she could be the one who’d make me fail.
But how could I not? Lying over her, pressing her soft, delectable body to the sand, I lost all traces of common sense. I had to have her—in my life, arguing with me so hotly, and hopefully, wrapped around my dick. I was already hard, raging for her with her body beneath mine.
For a long moment that felt both too short and too long, we stared each other down. So many unspoken things passed between us, wordless conveyances of how much we needed each other. She could protest and fight all she wanted. She could lash out and rail at me, but I saw the truth on her face, I noticed the desire in her eyes, and I felt the neediness of her body acquiescing to me.
Her legs had parted open in our fall, leaving room for me between them. Her nipples were already hard points, showing through the thin layer of her soaked dress.
“I’m just starting with you,” I repeated, “and I’m going to show you what happens when you think about running from me ever again.”
Slanting down, I covered her mouth with mine. Each time I pressed against those pouty pink lips, she felt softer and warmer. More eager to open. So wet for me to slide in and taste more of her tangy, potent spice.
Jasmine. Her sweet scent wafted up to me as I plundered her mouth. I stroked my tongue and explored as she writhed and moaned for more. I sucked on her lip as she thrust up at my dick poking through the layers between us.
Just like that, she was the lighter fuel to my fire. Desire ruled me, but a deeper sense of sick and twisted glee captivated me that I’d gotten her. I hunted, and I caught my prey.
She was all mine to feast on. Mine to fuck and pleasure. Mine to run ragged after coming, only to make her beg for more and more.
“I told you that I’d catch you,” I said again as I ripped my mouth from hers. She panted, staring at me with wild, needy eyes as I hovered over her.
“I—”
I kissed her quiet again at the same time I lowered my hand between her legs. The soaking wet dress bunched up into a soggy handful, but the more I reached down toward her pussy, the faster she arched into my touch, seeking friction. The more I stroked over her wet panties, slippery with her arousal, the louder she moaned and kissed deeper.
“You want me to show you what happens? What you get for making me hunt you down?” I yanked her panties up, ripping the seams. Then I teased my finger along her slit, pushing in to finger her.
“Ah!” She cried out until I kissed her quiet again.
“You want me to punish this pussy? You dare to run and think you can get away? From me ?”
She moaned as I added another finger. With my thumb, I teased her clit, but I pulled my hand away and momentarily strained to focus on shedding my shorts and boxers.
My dick ached. I panted, out of breath and feeling like I’d completed a marathon to get here with her. And it was all worth it. Every damn second of the chase led to this moment. This reward.
At last, I got my shorts down far enough that I could line myself up to her wet entrance. Parking just the head at her pussy, I watched her furrow her brow and lick her lips, breathing so hard that her chest rose and fell faster.
Still keeping her hands above her head, shoved to the sand, I brought my other hand to my mouth. “You think you can run and deprive me of this?” Slowly, and while not letting her look away, I sucked her cream off my digits.
“Miguel.” She swallowed after uttering my name. Pushing her hips up, she gave me mixed messages. Was she trying to push me off? Was she reminding me that my cock was just barely there, ready to slam in and stretch her inner walls?
That was what she’d get. I squeezed her wrists together as I dipped my hips and plunged into her sweet, tight heat.
She cried out again, loudly, but a crack of lightning blasted down and drowned the sexy sound out.
It wasn’t a problem. I tortured us with a slow drag out of her slick cunt, then slammed back in and got to hear another long, sexy-as-hell cry of pleasure.
“I’ve got you now,” I growled, picking up the pace as I fucked out all the frustration she’d made me feel. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
And there was no way I could kill her.
No chance I’d ever see her to harm.
Only the good kind, like pounding into her pussy until the first waves of an orgasm approached.
This was fast. This was gritty. It was a raw and carnal fuck on a midnight beach with a rainstorm crashing over us.
She tensed, tightening around me. Lifting one leg, she secured me closer to her, clearly not wanting any kind of a gap between us.
“Oh… I—Oh, my G—” She winced, furrowing her brow and straining to push up and meet me in the middle.
She was close. So fucking close. I gritted my teeth, warring between making this last or diving headfirst into the bliss and relief of coming.
It wasn’t long enough. It was way too soon for this to be over. Just like I’d delayed in killing her, how I’d needed more and more time to sate my curiosity and intrigue about her, I wanted the perfection of stuffing my dick into her pussy to last longer.
With another loud cry, she came. Trembling from the force of it, quivering and gasping, she came apart beneath me.
She squeezed me, sucking me in deep, and I couldn’t hold off any longer.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Fuck .” I dipped my face to hers, kissing her hard and growling through the force of my orgasm.
I couldn’t put it off. Between the rush of chasing after her, the glory of fulfilling my fantasy to trap her in place for me to rut into her hard, I couldn’t hold out any longer.
Flooding her womb with my hot cum, I jerked and twitched, nestled so deep inside.
It was… over. For now. The chase was done. I hunted her down, and now that I’d had her…
I exhaled a long, deep breath.
Now that I’d had her…
I leaned up to gaze at her dreamy, sleepy expression. She was sated and peaceful. Happily fucked and calmer.
Now that I’d had her once, I wanted her again.
She hugged me, encouraging me to lie over her, but I didn’t want to crush her. Snagging her in my arms, I embraced her as we both tried to catch our breath. I rolled, pulling her on top. The rain sheeted down faster, though, so as she winced at the drip of water streaming over her head and making her long locks hang like a sopping wet curtain around her face, I rolled us back again so I could brace myself over her.
No words were needed. An awkward silence didn’t stretch between us. As I slipped out of her from that second roll, I reached down to pull my shorts back on. All the while, staying close together and basking in the euphoria of coming together, I kissed her hard. She replied just as hungrily, threading her hands through my hair and holding my head close.
Kissing and cuddling on the sand in the lessening rain, we proved that it wasn’t over yet. Whatever the fuck we were doing, whatever I was doing with her besides my job, it wasn’t over yet.
Shifting to pull my shorts all the way back on, she eased toward the side to help me. It rolled us again, pushing me down as she sat up to straddle me.
As I tugged my clothes back in place, I looked up.
And the sight of her face sent me into instant alarm.
“Get down!”
A red dot shone in the center of her forehead.
Behind us, a sniper had lined up his sights on her.
I shoved her to the side, hard, forcing her down to the sand. Scrambling with her, I covered her with my body as a shot whistled down, too close for comfort.