I’m sure his facetious smile is plastered over an entertained chuckle he just pushed back.
“Funny, funny… Listen, listen…”
I’m like a crazy parrot.
“Did we have a fight?” he tosses at me, not caring in the slightest that the first man pulls to a stop next to our ride.
“No fight. No fight… We’re going down a rabbit’s hole with that thing. Chatting… Maybe a slight argument. I don’t know. Let’s hope you’re not getting there.”
My eyes drop to his groin.
“Can you at least pretend you aren’t hard?”
He can’t stop laughing.
“Sorry, babe. All this talk about us being a couple makes me hard as fuck. And now I want to fuck you.”
“Shh… No fucking.”
The knock on the window startles me, sending me back into my seat.
It does nothing for him.
“Don’t worry. By now, they know my name and why I’m in Miami,” he murmurs, making an effort.
Closing his legs.
“Why are you in Miami?” I ask, my voice muffled as if my mouth is filled with cotton balls.
“Business,” he says in a cold, even voice, and I finally sigh with relief.
“Officer?” he murmurs, shifting his eyes up.
The other man stops at my side and peers inside.
“Can you roll the other window down?”
“Sure,” Francisco says.
The window goes down.
I wave at the second officer, flashing a small smile, my mind going over every detail of my appearance. Anything that could give me away.
He spends little time on me, looking inside the car.
“License and registration,” the first man says.
Francisco reaches inside the glove compartment and inside his pocket.
Cold sweat forms on my neck. I left my wallet at the hotel, so I have no form of ID on me.
Why did I have to listen to him?
I can’t unclench my jaw, and I barely breathe.
Slowly, I draw in a wavering breath, trying to look relaxed while grappling with apprehension.
“Is there a problem?” the first man asks, handing him the documents. “You’ve been stationed here for some time.”