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  "I'm just curious." And still he stroked himself, light and easy. It clearly wasn't about getting off, but more a reminder that touching was a good thing.

  I looked at him closely, forced my attention away from his cock and up to his face. His expression was inscrutable. Whatever he was thinking, he was working hard to hide it from me.

  "No, I don't have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. I have a vibrator that I use far too often, and an impressive stack of porn." At that I dropped my legs open and worked my hand over my body, trailing lightly over my skin. When I reached my pussy, I opened my legs even further. I matched him stroke for stroke, my pussy for his cock, as he stood there staring at me with that damned unreadable expression on his face. It was downright obscene. "What's your plan there, big G? You going to use that or just play with it?"

  "I'm enjoying the view. I might just stay right here for a while." His gaze moved pointedly from my cunt to my face, then back again. He stared and I grew wetter by the second. His blanket may have started out clean, but he would definitely need to wash it after this.

  "Would you miss me?" I asked. It was a stupid question, well beyond the bounds of whatever we were doing. But not any more so than the questions he'd been asking.

  "I already do." His voice was a mix of strangled pain and whisper, and the mask slipped for a second. I saw a flash of hurt and loss, then he was on top of me.

  He held his body over mine, propped up on one hand, as he pushed my hand out of the way. I expected him to fuck me then, to fill me with his cock. Instead he played in my folds, exploring with his fingers, rolling through my wetness with his knuckles. I arched into him and he pushed one finger into me, then pulled it out and brought it to my lips. He painted my essence over my lips, then eased his finger into my mouth. He rubbed over my tongue coating it with the flavor of my desire, then he kissed me.

  He was assertive, but oh so gentle. He owned me, owned my mouth, but did so with great care. When he'd licked and sucked away every last drop, I pulled my mouth away.

  "Mateo, please." I rolled my hips against him, urging him to take me.

  He stared into my eyes as he took his cock into his hand and positioned it at my opening. He pushed gently, then withdrew and held it there.

  "Are you ready?" He asked the question with such intensity that I was sure there was more to it than just the words he said, but I was so wet, so turned on, all I could think about was how very empty I felt and how easily he could fix that if he'd only push his cock into me where it belonged.

  "You have no idea." I rocked my hips and he allowed it, entering marginally from my movement. It wasn't enough. I gave up and wrapped one leg around his hips and tried to pull him into me that way.

  He laughed, "You're so impatient."

  "No, I'm fucking horny. Damn it, Mateo, fuck me already." I totally growled that last part and he looked at me all serious and dark, his expression unreadable again. His self control was driving me insane.

  "Okay." He thrust forward, filling me fully and deeply and so much better than he had with just his fingers. That was my last thought before my brain stuttered to a stop.

  He worked inside me at a steady pace, thrusting deep and hard, but not fast. He had too much control and I wanted to take every last bit of it from him. I squeezed my legs tight around him, opening myself wide and full to him, then pulled him down on top of me until our bodies were flush together. I kissed him with as much tongue as possible and poured every bit of lewd intention into the meeting of our lips. I licked and sucked and explored the rest of his body with my hands and willed him to give himself to me.

  He whimpered into my mouth and snapped his hips a little faster, but still not fast enough. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, inviting him to penetrate me like he loved to do. He curled his tongue around mine and massaged it, sweet and sensual, but without urgency. If he didn't let loose soon, I was going to flip him over and ride him until he fucking popped.

  "Stop holding back. I want all of you." I held his face between my hands, felt the sweat on his skin, as I pleaded with him to just give in and take the release I knew he needed.

  He turned his head to the side and kissed my palm gently, then nodded once. Thank fuck!

  "Hold on." Before I could ask what I was supposed to hold on to, Mateo reared back and grabbed both of my ankles. He rested my feet on his shoulders, folding me up like a damn accordion. Not my favorite position by far, but it did open me up to him like no other.

  He withdrew with a wicked smiled, then rammed his hips forward. Without pausing, he did it again. And again. So hard, so fast, and so good that I lost track of the details and focused solely on the growing tension in my cunt. With every drive forward, he touched me in that perfect place that made my body rise up and fall apart with every punishing thrust.

  "Roni," Mateo spoke through gritted teeth. His arms bracketed my legs and he gripped my ankles hard. Sweat beaded and rolled down his face and neck and mingled with the dark hair on his chest. "I can't last." He grunted and thrust even harder.

  I was too close to register his words. I knew he spoke, but what, exactly, was beyond my grasp. All I could focus on was the orgasm building inside, threatening to overtake me.

  "So good." I scratched at the blanket beneath me, searching futilely for something to hold onto, something to ground me in this perfect moment.

  "Roni. . ." He groaned and dropped his head low to where it almost touched mine. Almost close enough to kiss, but not quite. I strained to reach him, but dropped my head on the next thrust. He felt so good inside me. I wouldn't last much longer, either, and as I teetered on the brink, I wished it would last forever, that I hadn't demanded that he push harder. I wished I'd let him make the moment last.

  "You're perfect inside. . ." I came with an unintelligible garble of letters and words that made no sense outside of that moment, but were the only thing I could grab onto to describe how I felt as I orgasmed with his cock still pumping furiously inside me. The pressure that had been building burst outward, cascading through my body with enough force to leave me limp and wasted.

  "Yes!" He thrust a handful of times, then climaxed inside me. He jerked and spasmed, his body going impossibly taut, then collapsed on top of me.

  My legs dropped into place around him, leaving the perfect opening for him, but I was no longer fully, lewdly exposed to him. He stayed inside, his breath panting out against my neck, with his body limp against mine. I sank into the mattress with his weight pressing against me, anchoring me. All that desperate grasping against the blanket earlier was pointless. All I needed was the weight of his body against mine to hold me securely in the moment.

  "You are so good at that." He was easily the best sex of my life. Every time. But I wasn't about to tell him that. He was already looking at me funny and had developed a possessiveness that would only get us in trouble in the real world. Maybe he could just be my undercover boyfriend. Every time I needed to go under from now on, he could be my dangerous boyfriend, add an air of legitimacy to my law-breaking cover. All I had to do was convince him. And my boss.

  "Want to do it again?" He wiggled his hips and I could feel him growing firm inside me. His recovery time rivaled that of an excited teenager. One more positive in my growing inventory of all things Mateo.

  "Let's see." I tried really hard to look disinterested. It didn't work, I'm certain. "I could take a nap. Or clean my gun like you offered earlier. Or have more orgasms. Hmmm, I'm not sure. Let me think about it."

  "Better think fast." He pulled out of me and climbed off the bed. He pulled the used condom off of his rapidly hardening cock and dropped it in the trash. He smiled as he picked up his jeans and dug through the front pockets. He pulled out a strip of condoms, then discarded the jeans. He tore one condom off and tossed the rest to me.

  I laid them beside me, near my head for easy access, and watched as Mateo stroked himself to full length again. He moved with that slow, rhythmic ease that drove me crazy.

 
"What are you going to do with that?" I licked my lips. God help me, I wanted him in my mouth so bad I could taste him sliding down my throat.

  He tore open the condom and rolled it onto his shaft. "Flip you over and fuck you from behind. I want to pull your hair until you scream."

  As much as I wanted to suck him off, his idea was a pretty good one, too.

  Mateo grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. He flipped me over like it was the easiest thing ever.

  And then he fucked me until I screamed.

  Chapter 6

  Mateo parked about a hundred miles away from the abandoned service station so we could walk there without being noticed. Okay, it wasn't really a hundred miles, but it sure as fuck felt like it as we were stumbling around in the dark. A flashlight would have helped, but it also would have given Crimson and his lackeys something to aim at. Since I'm not about getting dead, I opted for darkness.

  My night vision was good enough to keep me on the blacktop of Route 66, but beyond that I was lost. There could have been a full circus taking place ten feet in front of me and I wouldn't have realized it. That's the thing about the desert. There are no street lights. It's just dark, dark, dark. That's something I hadn’t realized until now, since all my nighttime outings were spent inside the city.

  "Watch out for rattlesnakes." Mateo held my hand loosely in his and I liked the feel of his palm against mine. It gave me something to squeeze when he dropped the rattlesnake bomb.

  "What the fuck?" I crowded closer to him. So much for not needing to be rescued.

  He laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "We're in the desert, Roni." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  I checked the holster at my back to make sure my gun was still there and briefly debated moving it to the front where I could grab it easier, but decided not to. Instead I hugged Mateo around his middle. "Well, you better fucking kill it if there is one."

  The faint moonlight, the millions of stars, and the scent of Mateo's skin put me in a romantic mood. Not in a "I want to hit that" kind of way, but rather the sweet, hand-holding, "let's go steady" kind of way. It would have been really nice if not for the fact that we were on our way to a known drug manufacturing facility and could very well die if discovered. That kind of killed the mood if I thought about it for too long.

  Finally, the building Mateo had showed me that morning loomed out of the night. There were more cars parked behind it this time than there were this morning, including Crimson's BRZ.

  "Looks like a full house." Mateo slowed and stepped carefully off the blacktop, pulling me with him. It was time for us to be a little less obvious as we approached. Not that there was much more than the occasional sagebrush to hide behind, but we worked with it.

  There were a few guys standing around outside, but no sign of Crimson. He must have been inside. I snapped a few pictures with my phone for my boss. They were no doubt crappy, but he'd have to deal. Mateo tapped my shoulder, then pointed toward the closest side of the building. It was also the darkest and farthest away from the men.

  I nodded and edged in that direction. The last thing we needed was a misplaced footstep, followed by me falling flat on my ass and making enough noise to draw them all out of the building. I moved carefully and slowly, matching Mateo in stride. Frankly, I should have left him at the hotel. As a general rule, it was never a good idea to actively endanger the life of a civilian, even a hot, badass criminal like Mateo. But I liked how it felt to have him with me. I tried not to dwell on what that might mean.

  Muffled voices reached me through the window. It was closed, but they were yelling.

  "What do you mean, it's not ready?" That sounded like Crimson, but I couldn't be sure.

  "We ran into some delays." The second guy sounded jittery, detached. If I had to guess, I'd say the delays he ran into involved sampling too much product.

  "You're fucking useless."

  I peeked over the edge of the window. The room I looked into was empty. The door to the next room was wide open and I could just see Crimson and another guy I didn't recognize. He wiped what looked like blood away from his lip. I snapped a couple of pictures.

  "Fuck, Crimson, I'm sorry. It's not my fault."

  Crimson paced back and forth, his hands gripping his hair. He turned on the other guy suddenly and pulled his gun from his belt and said, "Fuck this," and shot the guy point blank in the face. Blood and brain matter splattered onto the floor. The guy crumpled to the ground, surrounded by a growing pool of red. I took pictures as fast as my phone would let me. Hopefully they would turn out. Suddenly grainy, crappy pictures weren't fucking good enough.

  "We need to go," Mateo whispered urgently. He was right, of course, but I hadn't seen any sign of drug manufacturing. I wanted to check the next window. I gestured toward the only other window on our side and took a step in that direction. Mateo grabbed my arm and jerked me back. He shook his head furiously and pointed toward the road.

  I pulled my hand away and waved for him to go ahead. I had a job to do and Mateo didn't get to dictate the pace of it. I made it to the second window with Mateo close behind me. I could feel the anger pouring off of him.

  Jackpot. That room held all the telltale signs of meth production. I took a couple of pictures then let Mateo pull me toward the road. He gripped my hand punishingly tight, like I was a naughty kid who might run away at any moment. When we cleared the circle of light thrown off by the building, he broke into a full on run, dragging me behind him. I run as a regular part of my workout routine because I refuse to be one of those cliché donut-eating cops. But Mateo's legs are about a foot longer than mine and I struggled to keep up.

  He maintained that pace all the way back to his car. Once inside, he banged his fist against the steering wheel and said, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He kept muttering the same word, but never looked in my direction. I didn't understand his reaction since I'm sure it wasn't the first time he'd witnessed something like that. Odds were he'd been the one holding the gun in the past. That also went into the file of things about Mateo that I refused to think about.

  "Are you okay?" I placed my hand gingerly on his shoulder, then massaged around to cup his neck. I played with the skin there, just a gentle, easy movement of my fingers intended to comfort.

  "That wasn't supposed to happen." His voice was shaky.

  "No, probably not," I agreed for lack of something better to say.

  "What if he'd seen you? I brought you here and he would have killed you."

  I played with the short hair at the base of his skull. It prickled against my fingers. "But he didn't."

  "No, he didn't." He grabbed my face and kissed me soundly, then released me just as suddenly. It was jarring. He had a habit of doing that. He started the car. "I need to get you out of here."

  He flipped around in the road, headed back toward our hotel. "Where to?" We'd packed everything up and left the key on the table inside the room. We'd planned to go straight to the city after our surveillance gig.

  "I can't drive past there. Crimson is there and he'll recognize my car." Mateo activated his GPS and plotted a course back to LA that avoided the service station. It was long as fuck, but he was probably right.

  "Okay." While he drove, I forwarded the pictures I took to my email. Then I sent them to my boss. It took for fucking ever because our signal kept popping in and out.

  He settled into cruising speed, far faster than strictly legal, and took my hand in his. I dozed in and out, but he didn't release my hand once on the way back to the city.

  #

  Mateo pulled into the lot in front of my apartment just before two in the morning. I only had a few more hours until my boss would respond to the pictures I'd sent. Then the fantasy would officially be over. No more cover to justify spending time with Mateo. Continuing our relationship in the real world was career suicide. Or possibly just suicide if Luis found out what I did for a living.

  Mateo didn't pull i
nto a space, but rather stopped at the curb closest to my door. He let the car idle.

  Sleep? Or Mateo? It really wasn't much of a decision.

  "You want to come up?"

  He gripped his steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "Is that a good idea?"

  "Probably not." I pried one of his hands off the wheel and held it between mine. "But I still want you to."

  He sat there far too long, staring silently into the distance. Finally he sighed and squeezed my hand. "I really shouldn't."

  "I know."

  "I really want to."

  "I know." God, did I know. All the reasons that we shouldn't be together really didn't compare to how good it felt when we were. Somewhere in the middle of everything, he'd stopped being just a source of kick-ass orgasms. That's the part that sucked the most. This wasn't going to end well, and neither of us had been smart enough to head it off.