Home > Dirty Deeds (Dirty Angels #2)(19)

Dirty Deeds (Dirty Angels #2)(19)
Author: Karina Halle

What the hell have you done, Alana? I asked in my head as I stared at her across the table, the light illuminating her in an almost angelic way. Why would anyone pay me two hundred thousand dollars to have you killed?

And how the hell would I ever know the answers to those questions without incriminating myself?

To help her relax a little more, I turned our conversation onto TV shows since David Caruso proved to be such a good segue. There was nothing that got the passion flaring in this country like Telemundo and poorly translated American shows.

By the time we were finished two bottles of wine, it was getting late and I had no idea where the evening was going to take us. I had gotten her drunk – a little too drunk – and she was looking wistfully at the area by the pool where couples had started slow-dancing to sad mariachi music.

“Care to dance?” I asked her.

She shot me a sloppy smile. “Yeah right. The way that I am?”

I got out of my chair and held out my hand. “We can make it work, I promise.”

She didn’t look convinced but let me get her out of the seat anyway. She was extra wobbly on her feet now, particularly since she really only had one foot to stand on, but somehow I managed to help her hobble over near the dance floor.

We weren’t quite in there with the crowd of couples – I had visions of us falling into the pool – but we were close enough to feel a part of it.

“Here,” I told her, peering down into her eyes. “Put your arms around my neck and hold on.”

She did as she asked, an impish smile on her lips. Her arms around me felt impossibly good.

“What do I do with my feet?”

“Step on my foot with your good one and keep it there. Wrap your other calf around mine.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Trust me,” I implored and her hold around my neck tightened as she placed her sandaled foot on top of my boot and then hooked her casted leg around my other calf.

“I’m not breaking you?”

“Are you kidding? You weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

“My thighs and ass weigh more than that,” she pointed out.

Taking the opportunity, I slide one of my hands down to the small of her back, my fingers just brushing against the top of her curves. “I can’t be the judge of that yet.”

She grinned up at me, her cheeks flushing. “Yet, you say.”

I returned the smile. “The night is young.”

She pressed herself into me. The night is also hard, I thought to myself. There was no point hiding it though. I couldn’t imagine any man who wouldn’t get an erection with this woman pressed against them.

Focus, Derek, I told myself.

But maybe it was the thick night air, or the way we moved together to the slow waltz of a broken-hearted band, or the way she looked at me, the way she felt, so soft and so close, that made me lose focus. Just this once, I wanted to be able to feel something without thinking it through. Just this once, I wanted to feel something more than ice inside me.

Alana was heating me up, one beautiful smile at a time.

We danced for three songs until she rested her forehead against my chest and seemed to doze off for a minute.

“Okay,” I whispered into her ear. “Time for bed. Let’s go.”

I thought that would get a reaction out of her but she pulled away and nodded, her eyes still shut. I couldn’t help but grin at her, glad I could do so without her noticing.

I paid for dinner and got us in a cab. It didn’t feel right sending her off to her own place. She was drunk and vulnerable and I wanted her in my sight for the night.

The cab dropped us off at the hotel and I helped her up to my room.

“You don’t mind staying the night?” I asked her as we paused outside my door.

She giggled to herself but didn’t say anything.

Once inside, I left her on the couch and went into the bedroom of the suite. I had cleaned it up earlier, knowing there was a strong chance I’d bring her back here after dinner. All my guns and weaponry were tucked away and it looked like the hotel room of your average tourist, albeit one on an extended vacation. In fact, if anything I should have had more stuff than just a duffel bag. I was so used to traveling light.

Once I pulled back the covers for her, I brought out one of my T-shirts from the drawer, one I worked out in but was freshly washed and laid it on the bed. Then I went back into the room where she was dozing and scooped her up in my arms, carrying her to the bed. I gently placed her down on it and then held her up while I placed the shirt in her hand.

“Get dressed into this,” I told her softly. “I promise not to look.”

She looked at me through glassy eyes. “You do it. I’m too tired.”

“All right,” I said, swallowing hard, and reached behind her neck to untie the straps of her halter.

She watched me closely as I did so, her gaze daring me to meet it. So I did. The straps came loose and the front of her top floated down like tissue paper, exposing her breasts.

Fuck. They were so fucking perfect. Beautifully round with dark rose nipples that tightened in the air. Suddenly all I wanted to do was run my tongue under their soft curve then take the nipple in my mouth and suck until she moaned.

My erection strained against my jeans and my breathing deepened. All the while, Alana kept staring at me, almost asking for it. Her eyes were heavy-lided, her mouth open and wet. I was so close to kissing her hard, to letting my tongue run down that vulnerable throat and to her breasts.

I took in a deep breath and looked away from her for a moment, composing myself. I may be a lot of horrible things but I wasn’t about to take advantage of her when she was this drunk, even if she seemed to want it. She couldn’t know what she wanted right now.

Before I could think better of it, I took the shirt and motioned for her to raise her arms.

She blinked at me, shocked I guess, but did as I asked. I slipped my t-shirt on over her head and then gestured to the bottom of her dress. “I guess you can keep the rest on,” I said.

“Don’t you find me attractive?” she asked, slurring her words a bit but still sounding hurt.

I took her good hand and placed it on the bulge in my jeans “I think I do.” Then I took her hand away and put my arm around her waist, scooting her back into the bed where I quickly undid the straps on her shoe. “But you’re drunk and I’m tired and it’s not going to happen like this.”

   
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