The corners of her mouth droop to a sorrowful grimace as her eyes close to block out the sight of my raised eyebrows.
A mean toad? Mean perhaps, but a rough-assed amphibian? I see myself as a hawk, soaring above the earth, surveying the vermin below me, and swooping down to catch a few toads when I’m hungry.
“Toads? What the fuck are you talking about?” Sal sounds just as unsure about her description of me as I am.
Sadness creeps over her posture, right down to the soft sigh escaping her parted lips and the alcohol matted tips of sable hair draping well-sucked nipples. I grit my teeth when an unusual twinge takes hold of me. She’s the hottest woman I’ve ever bedded and I’ve been around the world too many times to count.
A sudden urge to choke the truth from her elegant throat rages through my veins as liquid fury. I want her to admit I’m not simply a one off man—I’m the one she’ll never forget.
Her plump bottom lip slips between her teeth and she finally peers over at me. My dick stands to attention. Fucking rigid, like a soldier waiting for an order to destroy. I stare into her wide amber eyes and watch my pitiful wish to keep her catch fire.
“Let me run a background check on him.” Her brother demands. “You don’t know who you’re getting involved with in Bogotá. He could be…”
“Sal!” Carina jumps up, the cushion diving to the rug under her dainty feet. “I’m not getting involved with anyone. He’s just a random guy I’m using for sex. That’s all.” Her cheeks blaze from the admission. “Surely you can understand that. It’s about time I grew up and faced the real world without hiding behind my big brother. And you need to let me figure out who I am, because I sure as hell don't know yet.”
There’s a moment of contemplative silence and then her brother finally speaks. “If he hurts you, Cari, I’ll shoot him in the fucking face and bury him in the jungle.”
I like this fucker. He’s ballsy and protective of my woman. My eyes snap shut. The warning flare of her never being mine whips the venom from my temper, rendering me silent. When her long lashes flick upward, she quietly hunts for my reaction to her brother's outburst. I glower at her, my mood unstable.
“I know you don’t mean that, Sal.” Our eyes stay locked in a prism of daylight and unspoken impulses.
“You know I fucking mean it,” he replies with so much conviction that I feel like recruiting him as a valuable soldier. “Cari…”
“What?”
“I know you’re lying to me.”
“Don’t be stupid, Sal. I’ve nothing to lie about.”
“He’s not some random guy, is he?” The hairs on my neck lift as she turns away from me. “You don’t trust people. You’ve never had a physical relationship with a guy. There is no way you’d hook up with a random man unless you...”
“You’re reading too much into it, Sal,” she interrupts abruptly. “We both know I’m damaged goods. I will never have a conventional relationship with anyone. I’m incapable of being normal. So let me find my own way.”
What the fuck?
I flinch against the audacity of her statement. At the preposterous misconception of a woman like her needing to be normal. There’s nothing normal about either of us. She doesn’t need to conform or change a single hair on her pretty little head.
“Sal, I’ll call you in a few days. Okay? I know you’re only looking out for me, but this is the reason I decided to stay in Bogotá. To figure out who I am and find where the hell I fit in.” Her hand skates over her heart. “Come to the city in a few weeks and we’ll hang out together. I’ll even buy you abrownie con heladoand a chocolate milkshake from that gourmet ice-cream shop we found near my apartment. I love you.”
My ribs jar. The pain quickly turning numb. That used to be my thing with Angelo. He’d buy me a milkshake and then we’d talk about cocaine production and distribution. I used to think it was the milkshakes I adored when it was simply his attention.
“Fine.” He sighs. “I love you too. Be careful. I’m always here for you, Cari.”
Once the call ends, she stares blankly at the phone. “I suppose you want this back now?”
“Damaged goods?” I’m standing in front of her in a flash. My pulse thrumming like she’s sliced my jugular, so the main artery bleeds out before her. She’s far from damaged. In fact, I’d go as far as saying she’s impossibly exquisite.
She shakes her head and takes a step sideways, as if trying to erase every word she’d said to her brother. “Take it.” The phone soars through the air and skids across the couch beside us. “Can I go upstairs? If we're done here, I’d like to take a shower.”
We stand in a hushed impasse. Me, unsure of why the hell I’m so torn up and her naturally dabbing her flawed lip.
“You’ll need a black dress for the funeral.” I scowl at her for making the floor beneath my feet so unsteady. “There’s plenty to choose from in the gift boxes upstairs. Pack a bag.”
“Am I dismissed,sir?” she quips with a mocking bow.
“Unless you want to be restrained, bent over my lap, and spanked until your attitude changes, then I suggest you turn around now. However, calling me sir, that I like.”
Her tongue slips between her pouty lips, almost unraveling my inflexible countenance. The vein in her neck pulsates with remarkable energy. She’s thinking about it.