Chapter 38
"The feds want me to spy on you,” I said.
Catalina lifted a curious eyebrow. "Is that so?” She didn't seem upset. Not yet, anyway. "Is that what this whole evening was about?”
"I wouldn’t be a good spy if I divulged that, now would I?"
"Maybe that's all part of the plan. Confess to me that you're undercover, so I'll lower my defenses and become vulnerable."
I laughed. "If that were the case, I think it would have been more effective to keep my mouth shut.”
"Maybe you're wearing a wire. Maybe you're trying to seduce me in hopes I'll make incriminating statements.”
"I'm not wearing a wire.”
A devious smirk curled her plump lips. "Prove it. Strip for me. Now!”
Catalina was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And she was going to get it. I was more than happy to give it to her. I peeled out of my clothes, down to my skivvies.
Her eyes drank in my form. "Everything!”
Who was I to argue?
I stood there in my birthday suit.
She looked impressed, if I do say so myself.
"Just so we’re on the same page, I'm not wearing a wire either,” she said.
“I'm not wearing underwear, for that matter.
" And with that, she slipped the straps of her slinky dress from her shoulders.
She let the fabric fall down her arms, and her buoyant endowments bounced free.
She slipped the dress over her curvaceous hips and let it fall to the deck, pooling around her ankles.
My heart pumped, and blood flowed south.
She looked divine in the pale moonlight.
Catalina stepped close, and I pulled her into me. Our lips collided again, and my hands traced the curves of her glorious figure.
She was more incendiary than the surface of the sun.
It didn't take long before we found a lounge chair and put it to good use under the stars.
The neighbors had gotten a symphony of classical music. Now they were getting a symphony of passion. Her breathy moans echoed across the marina, filling the night air.
We went at it hot and heavy.
Our passion crescendoed in a tempestuous surge. We collapsed beside each other, gasping for breath, slick and sweaty, hearts pounding, heads full of wine and dopamine.
“I couldn’t be happier than I am right now,” she cooed, snuggling up, our bodies intertwined. “It was the perfect evening. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You can tell that to the feds.”
“I think I’ll keep this night to myself.”
The unspoken subject hung in the air like fog. It needed to be discussed, and we both knew it. After a long, thick silence, she said, “As you already know, Diego Navarro is my father.”
A twinge of disappointment knotted my stomach. I’d been living in a fantasy prior. “Are you part of the family business?”
“I design and manufacture high-end jewelry for exclusive clients.”
“The feds say that’s a front.”
“Can the feds prove that?”
I said nothing.
“If they could, I’d be in jail. But I’m not because they can’t.”
It wasn’t really an answer. Or maybe it was.
I took a deep breath. “I’m going to operate under the assumption you’re a legitimate businesswoman until proven otherwise.”
“And what will you tell the feds? That I don’t wear underwear?”
I chuckled. “No. I don’t think I’ll tell them that. But if I find out you’re not a legitimate businesswoman, don’t expect a pass.”
She kissed my cheek with her full lips. “I admire your principles.”
Then she kissed my chest and slid her tongue down my abs. Soon, she made a compelling oral argument for me to shut the hell up and enjoy the moment.
Which I did.
But this was a train wreck in slow motion.