HIDING: Book 5, The Stranger Stand Alone Series, A Dark Romantic Suspense Page 8

  “What do you know about him?” I pick up a pen and start jotting down notes.

  “He made his name as an executioner. His specialty was with a machete. Apparently homeboy liked to leave an impression.” Sick motherfucker! “He made his way up doing jobs for the highest bidders, mostly with the Latin gangs. Apparently he got picked up by someone, I don’t know who yet, for his mad skills.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I don’t know that either, but whatever it is, he’s in charge. It’s got to be big, bro, for him to take himself off the market. Is he down there?”

  I lean back as I piece together everything Carlos has told me with what I already know.

  Which is jack shit.

  “He’s down here. The people you talked to are reliable? Can you trust them?”

  If this Ivan Rodriguez is what Carlos is saying, I could have just created a major problem for him.

  These kinds of people don’t like questions being asked about them, or anyone having an interest in them.

  “Yeah, yeah, the info’s good. And if he’s down there in your little town, those boys are lucky they’ve got you.”

  It’s me who’s not so lucky. They keep dragging me back in, one way or another.

  “Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, sure, no problem. Listen Rico, just put a fucking bullet in his head. You’d be doing everybody a favor.”

  That’s exactly what I’d like to do. Except it’s not part of the assignment, and would definitely break goddam procedure.

  “Call me if you need anything else,” Carlos says.

  I’m already on my feet and heading to the captain’s office. “I will, thanks again.”

  I pocket my phone as I close the captain’s office door behind me.

  “I’ve got a name.”

  Maria

  CHAPTER 8

  I’m not going.

  I’m almost panicking.

  Letting him take me home and kiss me was bad enough.

  I can’t afford to let anyone close.

  Especially a man like him.

  What was I thinking?

  He’s everything I’ve been running from, I’m sure of it. It doesn’t matter that Rico’s a cop, a detective! He’s from the streets, only people that come from the hood, born and bred by the laws of the concrete jungle, have that kind of inbred danger, that arrogance, that ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude, it’s a natural part of them.

  It hums in his veins, and surrounds him like the air he breathes.

  But I can’t deny that it is his danger, that element of darkness within him, that makes me feel safe.

  Fire with fire.

  If he’s not part of the gang that wants to kill me, then he is the only man who can protect me from them.

  I’m absorbed in my inner battle when the doorbell rings.

  Don’t answer it, pretend you’re not here.

  “Maria, I know you’re there. Open the door,” Rico’s voice is muffled through the wooden panel.

  He probably went by the restaurant first and I’m sure my aunt told him she sent me home to wait for him.

  As I trudge to the door, excitement makes my stomach flip regardless of how I’m attempting to convince myself I don’t want to see him.

  That I’m afraid of him.

  That I don’t trust him.

  I can’t go out with him, or anyone.

  Ever.

  My mind might want to believe that. My heart and soul knows it total bullshit.

  I throw the door open.

  And freeze.

  Oh my God, I. Am. So. Screwed.

  He looked too good to resist in a suit, but now he’s sinful.

  Dressed in a body hugging white t-shirt and jeans that hang low on his hips, every single ripple of his perfect body is deliciously outlined, right down to his hard nipples. His long midnight hair is combed back, except for a wild piece hanging in his face.

  A slow smile lifts one corner of his mouth. Instantly my body is on fire with the memories of how it seduced me, melted me, controlled me. With only one kiss.

  I think I forgot how to breathe.

  RICO

  “Hi kitten.”

  I might be calm on the outside, but inside, especially in my pants, I’m a raging hard-on.

  My dick has picked up right where we left off last night.

  When I tasted her.

  One taste, one kiss, and I want more. She slipped under my skin and wove herself into my every thought.

  I can’t think straight. I’m a goddam junkie, she’s the only fix I crave.

  It pisses me off.

  It makes me feel alive.

  It frustrates the hell out of me.

  I don’t do this, take a woman out.

  They’re a momentary distraction, an indulgence I allow myself every so often.

  There had been a time after I left New Jersey and ran from my past, along with all the ghosts that exist there, when I tried to drown myself in the soft flesh of women, hoping to find a place where my pain would subside.

  Just like any overdose, the crash was not worth the high. It only made the need overwhelming and almost too much to deny.

  So I shut everything off, closed myself down.

  I didn’t allow myself to feel anymore.

  I’ve been dead the past twenty years. That kiss resurrected my lifeless soul. It’s been buried in the dark vault of my secrets for so long, it’s back and it’s fucking starving.

  As much as I try to fight it, make excuses the only reason I keep coming back to her is because she’s a challenge, I don’t know if I could keep away if I’d wanted to.

  And I KNOW she wants me as well, despite her smart mouth and bad-ass attitude.

  “Can I come in?” I ask casually, waiting for her to say something instead of just staring at me.

  She likes what she sees. Good, she’s going to like it a whole lot more when I’m uncovered.

  “No,” she snaps her eyes from exploring my body to meet mine.

  I can’t stop it, I bust a full blown smirk at her knowing I’ve caught her off guard.

  I push off the doorframe. “Good, because dinner’s ready. Let’s go.”

  She folds her arms across her chest and digs her heels in. “Go where?”

  I slip an arm around her back and guide her out, closing the door behind her.

  “My place, I cooked for you. And I haven’t cooked like this in years, but I wanted to,” I turn her to face me. “For you.”

  Which surprised the hell out of me, because I did want to.

  Her expression relaxes and just for a moment she lets her guards down.

  Her lips part softly as she gazes at me.

  My attention is pulled to the soft plumpness of her lips, her mouth, like metal to a magnet. The memory of her taste explodes on my tongue as if it had just stroked hers.

  I pull her to me, and kiss her.

  Fireworks explode between us, and we react instantly and hungrily. Our bodies collide in an inferno of need.

  It’s raw and demanding. No reservations, nothing held back.

  We’re breathless when we part, shocked, and panting.

  “We should go,” I say quietly, trying to get my shit together.

  This woman’s got me so off-balance, I’m practically stammering.

  She’s quiet as I lead her to my car, probably as unnerved as I am. She’s fighting herself, fighting what’s happening between us.

  I am too, and, damn if I know what it is.

  It’s a short drive to my house. It’s a small, single story cottage on the outskirts of the city. Quiet, and separate at the end of a cul-de-sac, just like I like it. Am I trying to hide from the world? Maybe. When you’re up to your balls in criminals and scumbags every day, haunted by your past and running from the ghosts, you need a sanctuary of peace and quiet to heal for a little while.

  Maria’s nervous, I can tell. She’s been sitting at attention the whole drive.

  “Th
is is where you live?” she asks when we pull into my driveway.

  “Yes, are you surprised?”

  I open her door and we walk to the front door.

  “A little.” She chuckles. “I was expecting a hotshot bachelor condo downtown.”

  I throw my keys on the side table in the front foyer and hold the door open for her.

  I smile because I thought that’s what she was expecting of me. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not my style. Come on, let me get you a glass of wine while I check the food.”

  I thread my fingers through her small ones. The heat from her palm seeps into me and melts my reservations even further.

  Safe, detached. Nothing personal. Remember that.

  In the kitchen, I pull out a stool for her at the breakfast bar, then pour her a glass of Shiraz and grab a Heineken for myself. Turning to the stove, “Pasta A La Vodka. I thought since you get Spanish food all the time, a change might be nice.”

  “It smells delicious, thank you.” She still sounds nervous.

  I stir the sauce, then bring the spoon to my mouth for a taste. Just as it touches my lips, a long line drips down the front of my shirt.

  “Damn,” I grumble.

  “Italian food, it always makes a mess,” Maria chuckles.

  “I know, but it’s so good,” I laugh as I reach behind my head and grip the back of my shirt to pull it over my head, then throw it to the side on the counter. I turn to face her and ask, “Want a taste?”

  She’s frozen, staring at my chest.

  A flash of warning shoots through me.

  Something’s scaring her.

  “What is it?”

  All traces of how relaxed we were together are gone. I take a cautious step toward her. She pulls back on the seat as her eyes widen.

  “Don’t come near me,” she snarls.

  “Maria,” I keep my voice calm in order not to frighten her more than I unknowingly already have, “I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax.”

  She bolts from the stool. “Don’t fucking tell me to relax!” she yells. “Your gang, I know that tattoo!”

  My goddam tattoo! Gangs are what she’s afraid of. Something happened to her.

  On my right pec is the tattoo I’ve worn since I started to grow pubic hair, the emblem of the brotherhood I belonged to, The Latin Disciples. A dagger over angel wings with blood dripping from it, across the banner in the center is the gang’s name. I never got it removed. I hate it. That part of my life destroyed me, but it links me to my brothers, the brothers I will always give my allegiance to.

  I take another step toward her, holding my hands out, palms facing her. “I was. At one time, yes. It was another lifetime ago. I’m a cop, you know that,” I try to explain and get her to relax and listen to me.

  “Don’t lie to me, Rico!” she’s screaming at me, terror and rage pouring from her. “I’m not stupid, once a member, always a member!”

  “Maria, I’m not lying. I got out,” I keep my voice calm. I’m one step away from her.

  That’s when she lunges at me. Her palm hits me across the face before I can grab her wrists and restrain her.

  “Goddammit, would you calm down and listen to me!” I get a hold of one of her wrists and yank her back to me as she’s running for the door.

  She comes at me again, her nails digging into my bare chest.

  “Let me go!”

  We barrel through the kitchen chairs and into the table, slamming it against the far wall, throwing everything on top of it to the floor. Chairs slide over the broken glasses that crashed and shattered on the ceramic tile.

  I’ve got my arms wrapped around her with her wrists gripped tightly in my hands, her arms crisscrossed in front of her body. I push her hard enough to immobilize with her chest against the wall, her cheek pressed against it, and those beautiful tits squished out both sides.

  I’m breathing heavy, “Now that I’ve got your attention,” she thrashes in my grip, I press the weight of my body against her length. “You’re going to listen to me, and I’m not letting you go until you fucking believe me.”

  She squirms underneath me, our bodies fitting perfectly into each other. Her luscious ass grinds against my cock, and the damn thing swells to bursting. My teeth clench as my entire body responds to hers. Electric shocks explode where our bodies connect, and before I can stop, I thrust my hardness into her ass cheeks flush against my groin.

  She gasps and stills. “Fuck you,” she whispers roughly.

  I smile and bring my face close to hers and lick along the seam of her lips. “Patience, kitten, first you’re going to listen.”

  Maria sucks in a breath.

  She might be scared and leery, but she can’t fight what’s raging between us anymore than I can.

  “That tattoo tells me everything I need to know,” she grits out between clenched teeth.

  She’s going to fight me.

  And, damn if I don’t want her to.

  “It doesn’t tell you anything about me,” my voice low, my lips at her neck, her heart pounding violently against me. She smells so good, I want to tear her clothes off and fuck her hard and rough right here against the wall. I take in a deep steadying breath. “I’m going to tell you what you need to know…,” she thrashes again. “We can do this the easy way, kitten, or we can do it your way. Your choice,” I whisper roughly against her ear before gliding my tongue along the shell.

  Her body trembles and involuntarily presses against mine, her lusciousness makes my dick pulse again.

  “Say what you’ve got to say, Rico,” her eyes bore into mine and all I want to do is kiss her, remove her fear, make her trust me.

  The gang part of my life is an open cancerous wound that has never healed. Knowing that hurts her, that I hurt her because of it, guts me. I hate it, even now the gang’s still haunting me.

  I want to her trust me even more than before, make her feel safe. She’s afraid, terrified, and I’m giving her another reason to be.

  She’s also just given me the biggest question of them all.

  What happened?

  I thought I’d be able to walk away after this once.

  Things have just changed. Dramatically.

  I’m not letting her go until that changes. I’ll do whatever I have to.

  “Get off me!” she yells.

  “Not until you listen,” I grunt as I quickly move her hands over her head and pin them against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Much better.”

  “Talk. Then I’m leaving,” she tries to squirm away.

  Another rush of blood shoots straight to my cock. I push into her harder, grinding my erection into her. Her eyes widen. “You keep on moving like that, kitten,” I grin wickedly at her.

  She stiffens beneath me as arousal flashes in her eyes. “Talk.” She might be angry, she might be afraid, but I can see in her eyes she wants me as badly as I want her.

  My gaze drifts to her parted lips, I can feel every heavy breath she takes throughout my body. Even through our clothes, her heat is searing into me, pulling me closer, melting us together.

  “Yes,” my voice is low, “I was in a gang.” Fear flashes in her eyes again. I lower my mouth and brush my lips over hers. “There was an accident,” I whisper. I stroke my tongue along the ridge of her lips.

  Her breath catches.

  “I was young and stupid,” I pull her lower lip gently between my teeth.

  She gasps.

  “Things happened,” I can barely choke the words out as the memories of what happened that day in the alley flash through my mind.

  She holds her breath, waiting.

  I slide my tongue over her lips.

  I need to taste her.

  She is a balm to my agony. There’s forgiveness in her touch. I need it more than I need air.

  I lift off her just enough there’s space for me to turn her so she faces me.

  “They let me go, Maria. I did what I had to do, for me and for them, the
n they let me go.”

  I stare into her eyes demanding she believe me. I need her to believe me, more than I’ve needed anything in my life in a very, very long time.

  Her eyes dart back and forth across mine. Searching, penetrating, reaching deep down inside me, tearing through my walls, and my present and past, not stopping until she finds what she’s looking for.

  I can feel her body begin to relax beneath mine as our eyes lock.

  “Tell me what happened Rico.” her voice is soft but demanding.

  A challenge.

  I freeze.

  Can I tell her? I’ve never spoken about that day with anyone. It’s my hell, my prison, my very existence even. The reason I am who I am. If she knows, she’ll run. And I won’t be able to stop her.

  She waits. Patiently. As I struggle inside.

  I want her secrets.

  She’s asking for mine.

  Can I give them?

  Can I trust her?

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes. The images are all there, crisp and perfect, just like always.

  “We were kids really,” the words come out strained, fighting against the demand. “Another gang cornered us. There were three of us,” God, this hurts. “Five of them. They shot one of us,” the gunshot echoes again in my brain, “then they ran.” I look into her eyes, readying myself for the reaction I’m sure is coming. “We took care of them. All of them. My gang called it retribution. Then they let me go. That’s when I left, and never went back.”

  I wait for her revulsion. Prepare for her disgust. I’m a murder. I didn’t have to explain it; it was all there.

  Her eyes haven’t left mine. The weight of her scrutiny is almost more than I can take. I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed in my life.

  The agonized seconds feel like an eternity.

  What she does next surprises the fuck out of me.

  Raising her head, her mouth crashes into mine with such ferocity, our teeth bang together, as she plunges her tongue into my mouth and kisses me. Everything is in that kiss, all of her anger, her fear, her trust and her mistrust.

  She’s giving it all to me.

  I take it all. Gladly.

  I let go of her wrists and grab a fistful of her hair. She drags her nails down my back, leaving a stinging trail in my bare flesh. I growl into her mouth as I yank her shirt up and off her body and pull her bra down to expose her breasts, breaking the kiss only to fill my mouth with one of her dark nipples. Gripping her bra in the center between her perfect tits, I shred it apart to give me what I want. What I crave.