Chapter 27
Fallon
“You were right, Carlos,” I told the gruff-looking man with a heart of gold.
He’d been the consummate host, providing vivid imagery of Santiago de Cuba while Cuban music played in the background.
With the ocean rolling softly against the shore only yards away, the setting sun creating an incredible backdrop and the most delicious food I’d been allowed to enjoy in a long time, the moment felt far removed from the horrific danger we’d experienced only hours before.
And the night before.
And the afternoon before that.
Carlos had a wide grin that lit up his entire face as he leaned across the table. “What am I so right about?”
“Vissarian is a very strange man.”
He burst into laughter while Vissarian flicked his ‘trying to be commanding’ look over the candlelight. He even swirled his finger around the rim of his glass as he furrowed his brow. “I could say the same about you, dear Fallon, a crazy woman who risked her life to save a dog.”
“You were right there with me.”
“But I wasn’t the one shouting at the employees.”
“No, you would have shot them if they hadn’t helped.
” I blew him a kiss, the moment something I would remember.
At least we all felt relaxed. Although it hadn’t escaped me that several of Carlos’ men were pretending to be customers, hanging out at the small bar, two at a table looking stiff and formal.
Even in their rather tropical shirts.
The outline of their weapons was easy to see. It wasn’t as if they were hiding it from anyone. Not a single other guest seemed disturbed by their ominous presence. Maybe I should just take comfort in that.
“A match made in heaven,” Carlos piped in.
“If we were together, I’d likely kill him before a week was out.” I took a sip of wine, eager to hear what Vissarian would have to say.
“Over what? The fact I chastised you for cursing out men with guns or that you refuse to follow orders?”
“Ha! The fact you’re a demanding man with no sense of romance.”
Now Carlos choked on his drink. “Did I tell you the story about the woman he hit on inside a stakeout we were on?”
“Don’t you dare tell her that story. I will never hear the end of it,” Vissarian said gruffly, although I could tell he was doing his best not to laugh. When he turned toward me, he pressed his hand against his chest as if I’d hurt his feelings.
Again.
“And what do you mean I’m not romantic?”
I batted my eyelashes. “You’re not. You’re all business.”
“You see,” Carlos continued. “The woman was the wife of a very powerful man in this country and he didn’t take kindly to walking in and finding Vissarian’s hand on his wife’s knee.”
“I told you not to tell her.”
Laughing, the moment I pressed my hand against his arm, electric sensations trickled all the way down to my hand and further, igniting a fire in my core. The man had a way of doing that even when we were facing a crisis.
Or men with guns.
Carlos shrugged just as the small band began to play a slower song. “Why don’t you show the lady your fine moves, Vissarian?” He nodded toward the dance floor.
“I doubt he can dance.” I did love teasing Vissarian. He would not be a good poker player.
Vissarian tossed his napkin, immediately jerking to his feet. “Come with me, wicked woman, and I’ll show you who can and cannot dance.”
He refused to take no for an answer, whisking me onto my feet and toward the small and already crowded dance floor. When he defiantly snapped me into his arms, one strong arm around my back, butterflies suddenly appeared in my stomach.
He also had that level of control over my body.
The very bad man that I found impossible not to adore.
His eyes never left mine as he twirled me around the dance floor, his moves more sensual that I thought he was capable of. In his light trousers and stunning ice blue shirt, he was even more handsome than in his more formal attire.
I placed my hand on his shoulder, shifting my hips back and forth. He pulled me more tightly against his body until his throbbing cock was pressed between my legs.
As always, just being this close to him left me breathless.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Can I dance?”
“Eh.” I giggled seeing his expression and he decided to kick up his game a notch. Suddenly, we were doing the cha-cha, his moves either practiced or taught. Yes, I was impressed.
I was also breathless, my nipples aching. Being in his arms felt so right, even if everything I knew and believed in continued screaming our connection was wrong.
Yet, I doubted my sister would mind. In fact, I had a feeling she was looking down from heaven, smiling. And I could also hear her whisper in my ear, telling me to take care of him.
Was it possible that I could? Or should?
Maybe my mind needed a little more of a fantasy and less of a reality. Whatever the case, I was alive and our adventure continued.
This time he pulled me so tightly against him I could barely breathe.
As he slowly lowered his head, our lips almost touching, the moment of sheer intoxication became exhilarating.
He twirled us around several times on the makeshift dance floor, keeping the close position, his hot breath caressing my skin.
My pussy ached, the deep and intense throb even more powerful than before.
As he brushed his lips across mine, a series of tiny tremors skated all the way to the floor.
“Tak ocharovatel’no.” His whisper was as soft as his lips.
“What did you say?”
“It was something my father has always said to my mother. So enchanting.”
As he captured my mouth, I felt as if I’d drifted into suspended animation.
The rough pads of his fingertips seared my skin and the way he held me against him was seductive, sinful in a way that left little to the imagination.
The taste of him was so sweet, the tang of lime mixing with the kiss of powerful domination.
The vibrant music seemed to fade, giving way to the thrumming of my heart. Everything about his touch kept me engaged, lost in the moment. He swept his tongue inside, dominating my mouth the way he’d done with my body.
I slipped both arms around his shoulders, running my fingers along the nape of his neck. While he was controlling the moment, I’d never felt so adored.
Or so safe.
When the last crescendo of the song began to ebb, he broke the moment of intimacy, lifting my chin and dragging his tongue from one side of his jaw to the other.
“I need you.” The three simple words were ones I’d heard before, yet they held much more of a meaning and heavy presence with what we’d gone through.
“I need you.” My whisper was barely audible.
“Ahem,” the deep voice said from only a few inches away.
We pulled away from each other given the interruption, yet Vissarian continued to hold me as possessively if not more than before.
“What is it, Carlos?” Vissarian wasn’t thrilled our dance had ended abruptly.
“Why don’t the two of you return to the house. You’ll have it all to yourselves for a few hours. I’ll spend my time checking with my contacts.”
While I hadn’t been privy to the brief conversation the two men had just before we’d left for dinner, I’d gathered a sense then as I did now that Vissarian trusted the man implicitly.
“Do you need anything from me?” my lover asked.
Carlos gave me a slight nod. “Nothing at this point. I have my ways of discovering information. You know that.”
Vissarian chuckled. “Yes, I do. You know where to find us.” He gripped my hand, pulling me from the dance floor.
As we left the restaurant, he squeezed my fingers.
“Carlos considers you a close friend and here I thought you were awful.”
He rubbed his thumb across my skin and I realized I was swooning. “I’ve been called worse.” After releasing my fingers, he pressed his hand against my back, stroking casually and I suddenly felt like putty in his hands, malleable in a way I’d never allowed before.
Except with him.
The moon lit up the sky, stars shimmering against the backdrop of the last dim rays of sun. In so many ways he remained a stranger, yet I’d finally realized what he was capable of. Complete destruction.
Only he hadn’t acted on anger, but the need to protect me.
The moment I’d met Vissarian, everything about him painted a vivid picture of dominance and control from his tattoos to the way he carried himself.
Yet he remained an enigma. As light as Carlos had insisted the dinner conversation remain, both men had been on edge, clearly capable of reacting at a moment’s notice.
In those moments, all sense of the woman I’d been had disappeared.
This was my new reality, a norm that I’d never believed possible.
Even though I’d sensed my parents had been running from something.
Just like I’d done.
Only I’d been lucky to run into the arms of a man who would die to keep me safe.
The moment we were on the front deck of Carlos’ house, he took a deep breath, tugging me close as he’d done before. As he cupped the side of my face, another few seconds of his hot breath tickling my senses, I felt the difference in the man.
What we were about to share was no longer just about the heat of passion, but something much deeper.
“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t breathe, sweet baby girl. I’m going to ensure you know how fucking beautiful you are.”
The terms of endearment should surprise me, but they didn’t. Maybe because the change I’d felt in both of us was so overwhelming.
Or so incredible.
His eyes were riveted on me. As if the rest of the world had faded into nothing but an annoyance. Dark and stormy, full of the same danger that no longer created fear, but something much more intense.
“Yes.” The single word I managed was either an admittance or a weak moment of begging. I wanted the man to consume every inch. To break and possess, to mold into what we both knew existed.
Something entirely electric.