“You were saying, Bonita?”
“Chula? Bonita? I’m not an insecure piece of ass!”
“Not in the slightest, you’re a businesswoman.”
“I am.” Her shoulders square.
I only made this assessment because her hands were soft, but not heiress soft. I follow her through the upstairs portion of my house. Her one heel clips on tile custom from Madrid. In her haste to find the other heel, the pretty woman misses the staircase to the left.
“Not that hallway,” I speak up, voice steel.
“Thanks for the assistance! The sooner I get out of here and away from you, the better. Guess what, asshole!”
I lean against the Spanish ceramic handrail as she saunters back toward me. “I’ll tell every Latina in a thousand-mile radius the sex . . . the sex . . . “
“The sex?” I coax her response, my palm at her face. Intuitively, she nudges into my caress, dark orbs swimming in pure lust.
The Cubana groans. “Best I ever had, grrrr, fuck!”
More Spanish divides her thought, as she reaches up to slap my chest. Without a tell, I’ve caught her wrist, stopping her attempt. Women. Nothing they can do will ever hurt me.
The furious woman wrestles her wrists away from me. Shiny white teeth snarl as she threatens, “Still, I’ll coach myself. Tell myself until I’m able to tell all my primas, every woman caught in your snare, that the sex was the worst!”
I press my mouth against hers, tongue dipping inside for a delicious taste. My hand clutches her throat. Her heartbeat drums against my palm. I kiss her until the beat amplifies, squeezing harder. “Didn’t your mami ever tell you, it’s not good to lie.”
“Oh, yesssss!” She moans into my mouth.
Women.
Malleable.
Putty.
Easily broken. As I dominate her throat, she descends to her knees. The dose of craving burning my veins dies out. This was no challenge at all . . .
Fear and sex will collide in this sexy romantic thriller. Grab Diablo Inside now!
