Traitor, The (18 page)
"Ruiz and the other deputy, but not
el hombre negro."
The black deputy.
"And Sheriff Slater?"
"Él está condiciones criticas, pero sobrivivrá."
"English!" Santos roared.
After Navarro left, he sat a long while at his desk,
refusing to speculate about why he felt a strange relief that the sheriff might
survive.
Several hours after Charles Barrington stalked out of her
office, Bella closed up her files, grabbed her briefcase, and drove home. Rafe was
waiting for her on the front porch, sitting on the cement landing, his fingers
linked and dangling between his legs.
A warm thrill of pleasure ran through her when she saw him.
She almost felt like she was coming home to ... to someone who cared.
Ridiculous, but the feeling made her irrationally happy. She smiled and waved
as she pulled her car into the garage and then met him at the front door.
But when they entered the small house the mood changed
without warning. The reality of their trying to forge a relationship in the
midst of a major investigation struck Bella as foolish. They both paused in the
tiled entry, a sudden awkwardness festering between them as they warily eyed
one another.
Rafe saw the hesitation he'd been feeling reflected in
Isabella's eyes. "What now?" he asked, his eyes caressing her smooth
face, his hands skimming down her sleeved arms.
He knew they were both too tired for any romantic
shenanigans, but he'd wanted to see her – for just a moment or two. The debacle
of losing his young witness gnawed at him. If Isabella rejected him now, he'd
feel the sting of remorse even more.
It was tempting to blame Slater since Ruiz was clearly the
one who'd betrayed them to Vargas, but Rafe had grown steadily more uneasy
since the death of his confidential informant in L.A., more worried that an
additional leak in DHS or DEA accounted for the multiple snags since he'd taken
over the Vargas case.
"Do you want to stay?" Isabella's large brown eyes
flashed in the dimly lighted foyer. A tiny frown marred the perfect skin between
her brows while she chewed on her bottom lip.
A wave of relief washed over him as he thought about
catching that lip with his teeth. "Of course I want to stay. I wouldn't
leave you alone after the hell of a day we've had."
"Is that it, then? You want to protect me?" She
sounded defensive and searched his face as if looking for the answer to some
unfathomable mystery. But he was just a man and today, of all days, he didn't
have solutions to much of anything.
He circled her neck with his fingers, noting how his dark
flesh contrasted against the lighter creamier skin of her throat. He smiled at
the intensity of her words and her confronting stare. "I do want to keep
you safe."
She turned away, pulled off her jacket, and hung it
carefully in the closet, then turned to reach for his. He followed her into the
kitchen where she turned on the coffee maker and began to prepare the brew.
"What's wrong, Isabella?" He enjoyed the feeling
of her name rolling off his tongue.
She gave a tiny shake of her head instead of answering him.
"No, I'm not going to let you get away with that."
He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned his body against the back of
her, marveling at her slender bones. "Something's bothering you besides
the attack. What's wrong?"
She reached for the mugs on a high shelf and his hands
dropped to her waist. "What are we doing, Rafe?" she asked on a sigh.
He allowed his hands to drop further so that they rested on
her hipbones. "God, I don't know. I just want to be with you. I can't seem
to control that."
Briefly she leaned back into him, her bottom soft and firm
at the same time in the way that women were. His arousal was immediate. A tiny
moan escaped her as she rested the back of her head against his chest, the mugs
clattering to the countertop with a jarring sound.
Rafe ran his hands up her sides from her hips to her
midriff, playing with the soft silkiness of her blouse. His cock thrust
demandingly at her bottom, an appendage with a rogue mind of its own.
Tracing the undersides of her bra, he trailed his fingers
back and forth beneath the lacy garment until he reached the spot where her
nipples swelled through the layers of fabric. He felt them harden beneath his
thumbs, tight round nubs that he had a mindless urge to kiss and lick. He
imagined his tongue swirling around their hardened peaks, and he ground his
hips into her rear, as if seeking entry.
Nuzzling her neck, he placed tiny, wet kisses on the line of
tender flesh from the juncture of her neck to her ear lobe and back again. Her
labored breathing increased steadily with every touch of his lips on her skin.
He inhaled the heady, mixed scent of her cologne and her damp body, and thought
he'd like nothing more than running his tongue along the flesh of her inner
thighs, of seeking out and then breathing in the scent of her arousal.
"What are you doing to me?" she moaned, turning in
his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to kiss
him hard and demandingly. He thrust his tongue to meet hers and tasted the
sweetness of her breath and the wet softness of the inside of her mouth. Her
fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, her hands trembling.
He laughed as his own breath came short and quick. "Here,
let me."
"Okay," she breathed on a shudder and busied
herself tugging at his shirt tails until they loosened from his trousers.
Then she ran her hands up and down his bare back and around
to the hair on his chest. "I love this part of your body," she
whispered as she dipped her fingers down to the funnel of hair below his navel.
She unbuttoned his pants, trailed the zipper down, and reached around him to
the flesh of his ass.
"Whoa, slow down," he panted, wanting to savor the
moment but prolong it at the same time.
Quickly, he wriggled his pants over his hips, toed off his
loafers, and stepped out, kicking trousers and shoes aside until he stood in
front of her in his shorts. Looking down, he saw the outline of his erection
against the white of his underwear. Bella pulled the shirt off his shoulders and
that piece of clothing dropped to the floor.
"Now you," he said, unsnapping her skirt and
letting it puddle around her ankles.
Underneath it, she wore only skimpy black panties. As he ran
his hands around her hips, he fingered the bikini cut and the lacy softness of
the material against her belly and thighs. He trailed his hand between her legs
and tested her dampness through the underwear.
"You're wet for me," he marveled, a surge of
possessiveness humming through his blood.
"Yes," she gasped as he slipped his thumb beneath
the panties. "I want you badly. Now. Inside me. I don't think I can wait."
He laughed again, although his own heart was racing like a
engine and his body threatened to start on its own journey. "I won't make
you wait," he promised.
He pulled her blouse off her shoulders, unfastened her bra
in haste, noting the shaking of his own hands as he caressed her flesh. The sleek
paleness of her skin shone like alabaster against his dark fingers. She stepped
out of her shoes as he scooped her up in his arms and hurried down the hall to
the bedroom.
They tumbled onto the sheets and somehow she landed on top
of him, her lush breasts pressing into his chest with a softness that drove him
mad. She attacked his mouth with fierceness and opened her legs around his
hips. "Rafe," she cried when she came up for breath.
Feeling her at the edge of her climax, he pulled back, both
hands holding her head, thumbs running across her high cheekbones. "Wait,
let me catch my breath. I want you to come first."
"Oh, I can't wait ... I'll explode," she groaned.
He flipped her over, ripped her panties off, and opened her
legs. He thumbed the thin line of hair on her pubis, dipping down until he felt
the moist peak. He bent his mouth to the core of her flesh and suckled, gently
at first and then with increasing intensity as she bucked against his mouth,
her fingers tangled in his hair, her hands urging him against her.
He entered her with his tongue, all the while rubbing the
swollen nub until he felt the first tightening surge of her muscles. He thrust
harder, using his finger in simulation and roiled his tongue around her. A wash
of her juices emptied onto his fingers, but he kept working her until the last
spasm of her orgasm subsided and she no longer clenched his head between her
thighs.
She sighed a long, releasing breath of pleasure and with a
final passionate kiss between her thighs, he inched up beside her. He lay, hard
and hot, against the moist coolness of her belly, and he gently kissed her
nipples, working his way up to her mouth.
"I can taste myself on you," she said.
"Good," he answered. "I like the taste of
you."
A flush of color crept up her neck to her cheeks. "I've
never ... no one's ever done that to me before."
"Good," he repeated, pleased for some foolish
reason to think he was the first to pleasure her like this.
"I liked it."
He raised an eyebrow as he traced lazy circles around her
nipples and under her breasts. "Liked it?"
A broad smile lightened her face, her teeth flashing white in
the dim light. "I loved it," she corrected. "I loved what you
did with your tongue." She kissed him hard. "And with your fingers."
She pushed her tongue into his mouth, scraping over his teeth and probing the
inside. "And your mouth."
"You little tease," he growled as he covered her
body with his own.
"Now it's your turn," she smiled and spread
herself wide to accommodate him. He growled, a throaty sound that came from
deep in his chest, and pulled her close. "Come here, you." He buried
his face in her hair and inhaled deeply as if he were breathing in her very
soul. "You smell good."
Hours later, sated and relaxed, Bella prepared a light
supper and afterward they lounged on the couch, the television tuned to a
sitcom rerun, the volume turned low. Rafe took her legs and stretched them
across his lap, gently rubbing her feet. She felt languid and drowsy.
"You still look beat," he said, brushing his hands
over her calves.
"Emotional tiredness," she said. "All that
carnage ... I can't stop thinking about it. I alternate between feeling
helpless and being furious."
Rafe nodded and ran his hands over her thighs, the gentle
kneading relaxing and arousing at the same time.
"I promised that girl ... promised Esperanza that she'd
be okay. I feel like I failed her."
"No one could've anticipated what happened. We did all
we could," he soothed.
"What do we do now?"
"We use your plan," he answered, squeezing her
calf. "We get Santos to turn."
"But you said – "
"I know," Rafe interrupted, "but now
everything's different. If we have to get in bed with a beast to catch a
psychopath, then that's what we'll do."
"Who do you think it is?"
"The inside man? Besides Ruiz?"
She nodded.
"I don't know yet. But I'll find out and when I do ...
"
She sat up and reached for his face, tracing her fingers
down the stubble on his cheeks, running them across his lips. He sighed heavily
and splayed his fingers through the hair at her nape and lowered his lips to
hers. A delighted thrill ran through her, tired as she was, and she opened her
mouth to him.
The steady pounding of his heart rumbled through her hand on
his chest, and suddenly she wanted him again, close to her, no clothes between
them, his large, warm hands sliding down her body. She tugged at the tee shirt
he'd slipped back on. His bare flesh beneath her fingers was warm and smooth
and he smelled of the mingled scents of their sex.
He groaned as she reached his chest and played with his
flat, hard nipples. "God, what you do to me." He shoved her lightly
backwards onto the wide sofa and covered her body with his, pulled her robe off
her shoulders and bared her breasts. He lowered his mouth and –
The portable phone jangled alarmingly on the end table right
by their heads.
"Let it go," Rafe murmured, busy with her breasts
and his clever tongue.
Her breath shaky, she whispered, "I can't. It might be
important ... about the case." She reached over her head to grab the
receiver off the set and answered quietly. "Torres." No sound came
out and she cleared her throat. "Torres," she repeated.
"What are you doing with the case?" Only
Barrington was rude enough to call her at home at this hour of the night.
Bella pushed the speaker phone button and placed the
receiver back on the handset.
"Have you worked something out with Hashemi?"
Barrington demanded.
"Uh," Bella said, staring at Rafe's narrowed, dark
eyes, heavy with desire. "I'm working on something with him right now."
"Good. I don't need to remind you that he's got
powerful friends in high places."
"Well, maybe I should sleep with the guy then,"
Bella quipped, her mouth inches from Rafe's, his breath hotly sucking the air
out of her. "Maybe then he'll let me in on the action."
"Do whatever you have to do," Charles said coldly.
"Just don't screw this up again." He paused before he disconnected.
"And don't let them take all the credit, either."
"Well, you heard him," she moaned as Rafe tongued
her nipple and moved lower to her navel, tracing lazy circles down her body. "I
... have to do ... whatever ... you want."
"Hmmm," Rafe said, sliding downward and pushing
aside her panties to reach the wet, hot core of her. "It's never wise to ignore
your superior's orders."
