We Lady Smutters are off this week to recharge our batteries and prepare for an amazing 2015. But leaving my lovely readers high and dry is hardly in the spirit of the season, so below’s a free read I posted way back in 2013. It’s here for your pleasure now in case you missed it the first time around. Enjoy … 🙂
I looked around the small, dingy room. Drab curtains, peeling paint, TV in the corner that looked like it had been new circa 1987. Not exactly the kind of place a girl wants to call home, but when you’re on the lam I suppose it’s the best you can hope for.
I slumped back on the mound of pillows as my irritated gaze shifted to the clock radio on the nightstand. Nearly eight. Damn. Where was Carlos? He was supposed to score us some food and be back half an hour ago. And then . . . My skin prickled as memories flitted through my mind of what he said he’d do to me after we ate. And then . . .
Idly I ran my fingers along one bare arm, imaging it was Carlos’ silken caress causing shivers of excitement to race down my spine. Oh, what he could do to me. My nipples pebbled as I thought of his lips dotting soft kisses across my breast, his tongue sweeping over the skin, swirling and teasing. A soft groan escaped my lips. I arched my back as if to lift my aching breasts toward his mouth, begging for him to suck harder.
The click of the door dissolved the daydream and brought me back to reality. Carlos strode into the room, carrying food-laden bags. He lingered in the doorway, his already dark eyes growing inky black as he took in the sight of my naked body. Setting the bags on a nearby table, he slowly stepped over to the bed.
His hand dipped into the pocket of his jeans and emerged holding a small pouch. He tossed it to me, an amused grin curving one side of his full, lush lips.
“Cariño.” He murmured the pet name for me as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. “My heart stops at the sight of your beautiful naked body.” His gazed raked over me as he sucked in a breath. “Mi tesoro.”
The heat from his romantic whisperings burned my cheeks. I loved it when he called me his treasure. But I expressed an indifferent air. I couldn’t let myself get too carried away with this bad boy. What kind of partner in crime goes all gooey from whispered terms of endearment? I knew I had to play it strong.
“If I’m your treasure then prove it,” I said, struggling to filter out the excited tremors in my voice as my eyes flicked down to the rising tent in his jeans. He laughed when he noticed.
“See something you like?” His tossed his shirt away, revealing bronze, sculpted biceps and a ladder of muscles rippling across his stomach. With machismo flair, he slid his palm slowly down his abdomen, then lower still, until he reached the mound between his legs. He grabbed his crotch and jerked his hips forward.
“You see what you do to me, cariño? You torture me.”
“Yes. And you’re a very bad girl for doing it.” He wagged a scolding finger at me. “So as punishment, I’m going to climb onto this bed, and you’re going to wrap those beautiful lips around me and suck.”
My heart hammered wildly in my chest, like a manic caged animal trying to break free. But I didn’t want him to know that.
“I’m not doing anything until I get my share,” I said, donning what I hoped was a stern expression. “I risked my life this morning in that jewelry store. Can’t believe we didn’t spot the owner’s pistol behind the counter when we cased the joint beforehand.”
He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Sometimes that happens.”
“Fine. Whatever. But where’s my take?”
“Ah.” He smiled, although he’d unbuttoned his jeans by now and was sliding them down his divinely sculpted legs. He nodded toward the pouch he’d tossed on the bed. “Look in there.”
I pulled apart the drawstrings and turned over the bag. Out spilled dozens of colored gemstones, various sizes and shapes, sparkling even beneath the room’s dingy lightbulb like snow in the sun.
“Ooooh!” I squeaked with delight.
“Me happy,” I purred, pushing myself up to a sitting position. “Now let me make you happy.”
He rid himself of his jeans and shorts and climbed onto the bed, now as naked as I. He pulled me into his arms and tipped my head back, his lips crashing onto mine. His tongue plunged the depths of my mouth, hot and wet. I kissed him back just as fiercely, moaning when I felt one of his hands slip between us and caress my aching breasts, just like I’d imagined earlier. He broke the kiss so he could feast on my neck, nipping the tender skin, knowing just how far I could take the pain and transform it to pleasure before it became too much.
I used the space between our bodies to slip my hand down and do some busy work of its own, fisting him just the way I knew he liked it, slow and hard.
“Oh, f**k, cariño,” Carlos murmured. I felt a thin sheen of sweat slicken his skin. He pushed me back down on my back and straddled either side of my legs. “I think I’m going to have to — ”
Static from his portable two-way radio stopped him cold.
“Units in the area, respond to a potential 415 at 207 Amherst Road. Repeat, potential 415 on Amherst Road. Units in the area respond.”
Carlos’ head hung down. “Damn. That’s me, babe. I’m sorry.”
I blew air out from between my lips. “It’s OK,” I assured him, trying to get my racing pulse to calm down. “Not like it’s never happened before.” I scooted up to prop myself against the headboard, watching him pull his clothes back on. “Molesting my fantasy jewelry store robber will have to wait another day.” I smiled as he slipped his ID with the detective’s badge around his neck. “Go on and save the world from the bad guys.”
“Be back as soon as I can,” he assured me.
“Take some of the food,” I called out as he walked toward the door. “I’ll settle the hotel bill.”
He grinned as he snagged a burger and fries. “By the way, loved the storyline about robbing the jewelry store.”
“You didn’t do so badly yourself with the fake gems and this motel room,” I said. “Definitely a place where I envision two-bit criminals hiding out.”
“Next time we’ll elevate ourselves to bank robbers,” Carlos said, chomping down a fry. “Cariño needs a better place to stay.”
“Perfect,” I smiled as my detective husband walked out the door. “We can use Monopoly money.”