Undercover In High Heels

you’re going to keep me in the loop from now on. No more half-cocked, harebrained schemes, okay?”

I nodded. “I promise.” Honestly, his concern was touching. Even if the whole harebrained thing was a little uncalled-for.

“Thank you, ” he said, his voice softer. And lower. His eyes roved my face, the pleading look fading into something darker and a whole lot more inviting.

He leaned in, his breath hovering over my lips, his body pressing tightly against mine.

Yowza.

I felt my breath catch in my throat as evidence of Ramirez’s Mr. Haven’t-gotten-any-in-a-while pressed against me.

He reached one hand out and slid it around my middle, the scents of aftershave and leather warring together as he nibbled at my lower lip. He smelled good. Really good. Almost good enough to overpower the lingering smell of icing on my dress.

And then he really kissed me. Covering my mouth with his in a slow, sensual movement. Trailing his hand up my waist and inside my sundress.

I think I had an on-the-spot orgasm.

“But I’m covered in cake, ” I protested (feebly, I might add).

He got that Big Bad Wolf look in his eyes.

“I like cake.”

He leaned in and nipped at my ear. I shivered as his lips glided over my skin, licking a stray smudge of frosting from my cheek.

I sighed. Yes, actually out loud. He was that good.

He slipped one strap off my shoulder…then the other. And suddenly he was nibbling a whole lot lower. I groaned and refrained from pointing out that there wasn’t any cake there.

“So, does this mean all is forgiven?” I asked, going slightly light-headed as his hands slid up my thigh, taking my hemline with them.

He chuckled, his hot breath tickling the hollow of my throat. “Maybe.”

His mouth dipped lower, leaving a shuddering trail down the vee of my top. “Maybe? Anything I can do to convince you?”

He paused, then gave a big, wicked grin that was all teeth.

“Oh, yeah.”

In one fluid movement he wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me off the ground, carrying me down the little hallway, where I got the close, personal tour of his bedroom.

All night long.

I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping outside the window and small children laughing.

Okay, so in reality, the children were more swearing at one another than laughing. And the chirping-bird thing was actually the sound of a garbage truck backing up down the block. But they all sounded pretty perfect to me. In fact, life was pretty perfect. I couldn’t honestly imagine it getting any perfecter. I was in Ramirez’s bed, sleeping on Ramirez’s sheets, basking in the afterglow of Ramirez’s seriously talented body. Life did not get any better than this.

And then, amazingly, it did.

“Morning, beautiful.”

I opened my eyes and looked up to find Ramirez hovering over me, a cup of coffee in one hand. His hair was wet and curling around his temples a little, like he’d just showered. He smelled of Ivory and aftershave, and was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to his chest tighter than Saran Wrap. I licked my lips, going warm beneath his sheets again.

“Coffee?” he asked, handing me the steaming cup.

Was this guy good or what?

I took a sip. French roast. Just a little milk. Heaven.

“Get much sleep?” he asked, a glint of humor in his voice.

I couldn’t help the middle-schooler giggle that escaped me. “Enough.”

He reached one hand out and tucked a strand of what I feared was serious bed-head behind my ear. “You know, you snore a little.”

I gasped. “I do not!”

Ramirez’s mouth quirked up, hinting at that deceptively boyish dimple in his left cheek. “Relax. I thought it was kind of cute.”

I took another sip of coffee to cover my blush.

“Listen, the crime-scene guys called this morning. They analyzed the stuff from your apartment and kicked out a name.”

I sat up, propping myself on my elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Isabel.”

I paused, trying for a moment to place that name. Isabel…Isabel…I knew it sounded familiar…

“The Cabana Club?” Ramirez prompted.

Oh!

“You mean that crazy chick with the gun?”

Ramirez nodded. “That’s the one.”

I shook my head. “But why? What does she want with me?”

Ramirez sighed. “What I’ve gathered from the guys in vice is that apparently after her boyfriend, Snake, saw the club shooting on the news and found out she was talking to the authorities, he dumped her. She blames you.”

“Me? But I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

Ramirez gave me a look.

“Okay, maybe I had a teeny-tiny bit to do with it. But I’m sure she’s better off without him anyway. I mean, what kind of guy has a name like Snake?”

He cocked one corner of his mouth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good point.”

“Thank you.”

“Anyway, Isabel isn’t the most stable, rational person I’ve ever met-”

“Understatement alert.”

His eyes crinkled again. “So, I think it might be safer if you stayed here for a while.”

I froze, coffee cup halfway to my mouth. “Stayed here?”

Okay, so, yes, waking up in Ramirez’s bed was heaven. And spending the night in it had been…well, heaven didn’t even begin to describe it. Let’s just say the words multiple and orgasm came into play. But that had been one night. Staying one night with someone and staying a while were two different things. A little snoring might be cute after one night. After a while it made you want to smother the other person with a pillow.

I blinked and realized Ramirez was still talking.

“…and we’ll stop by your place later so you can pick up a few things.”

“You don’t have to do this. I mean, I don’t want to intrude.”

Ramirez’s gaze lingered on the hem of the sheet, flirting with my barely Bs. “No intrusion at all.”

“But what about Tot Trots? I need my drawing table to design. I can’t do that here.”

“I thought you said you finished your last assignment?”

Oh yeah. Right.

“But what about my mother?” I said, grasping. “What will she say if I tell her I’m staying here? You know”-I gestured to the wrinkled sheets-“with you.”

Ramirez’s lips parted in a slow grin. “Honey, your mom offers me condoms every time I see her. I don’t think she’s exactly under the impression that you’re a virgin.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I took another sip of coffee to cover my rising panic. Hearing the G-word last night had been great. Wonderful. Terrific, in fact. But going from girlfriend to cohabiting was a big leap. We’re talking diving-off-the-110-overpass-