Page 28 of Drawn Blue Lines

“Most women would be.”

“Sorry, counselor. You’re not the first man to pull his gun on me.” The tip of her tongue rested at the center of her top lip as her eyes lowered between us, then trailed back to mine with a wicked glint. “You won’t be the last.”

The hell I wouldn’t.

As if drawn by a magnetic force, my head lowered, my lips hovering so close to hers I felt her sweet breath against my skin. Adriana inhaled sharply, swallowing hard as I pressed my erection against her. Her inhales turned to pants, the battle raging inside her playing out across her face as she tipped her chin down, her eyes squeezing closed.

We stood there, immoral and reckless, toying with manipulative and dangerous. Two pinnacles of destruction that, if joined, would rip each other to shreds just to watch the other bleed.

As the implications of what I was about to do hit me, I came out of my haze of lust and turned my face, slamming my gun against the wall. “Fuck!”

Adriana flinched, but I didn’t stop. I slammed it over and over until the Sheetrock gave way under my repeated abuse. It wasn’t until I noticed blood running down my wrist that I spun around and stalked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” she called after me.

I swung the door open and stepped out onto the rickety balcony. “If you make good on your threat? To hell.” I stiffened as I heard her move behind me, refusing to look at her as I delivered my promise. “But don’t worry. No good deed goes unpunished. I’ll save you a seat.”

Chapter Nine

Brody

The scotch bottle was empty.

So were the other two.

Frustrated, I swept my arm across the desk and watched as all three clattered to the floor. Grimacing, I rubbed my eyes and ran my tongue across the roof of my mouth. Ugh. It was as dry as the Sahara and tasted like a camel shit in it.

This was what she’d reduced me to.

After leaving Adriana’s motel room last night, the last place I wanted to be was alone in an apartment filled with ghosts. So, I did the only thing I could think of—I drove to a bar filled with even more ghosts and spent the night having myself a one-man party. A deeper descent into an alcohol-induced stupor in an effort to maintain control. A Band-Aid for the inevitable.

A decision that didn’t seem as intelligent in the light of day.

Plus, it solved nothing. My problems were still there, only now they were compounded by a raging hangover. The upside was, as long as that jackhammer continued pounding in my head, I didn’t have to think about missing consulate generals or Colombian drug lords or pissed off Irish mob bosses or lost shipments or disgraced cartel princesses who fucked with my head more than I cared to admit.

Who said alcohol didn’t solve anything?

Pressing the heel of my palms against my eyes, I forced thoughts of her out of my mind and typed out a quick text to Carlos I put off last night. Yet another forbidden thing I flipped a middle finger at and did anyway. Val hated texts. He claimed anything written came back to haunt you.

Bullshit. Everything came back to haunt you sooner or later.

Cancel the manhunt. Adriana Carrera showed up at Caliente yesterday. She’s not the one in charge of reorganization. She has a name. Will update soon.

I barely put the phone down when it chimed with a reply.

Fuck you. Fuck this. And fuck your mother. Delete this shit and get a new phone.

What was with the sudden fascination with fucking my mother?

The phone chimed again.

Now deal with it.

I rolled my eyes. Carlos’s subtly was on par with an atomic bomb.

I let out a breath, trying to redirect my energy and failing miserably. This was ridiculous. I put an end to her bullshit last night. She was probably on a bus back to wherever the hell she came from. Swiping a folder from my desk, I attempted to do something productive, but the fight with Adriana kept replaying in my head. The crazy thing was I didn’t know if I was more pissed about her threats or the fact that I wanted to rip that dress off her and bury my cock between her legs.

She was trying to blackmail me with the one thing that could destroy me. I hated her, but I was also man enough to admit I’d never wanted a woman more than when I had her shoved against that wall. Just thinking about it crossed all kinds of wires in my head again, and I threw my pen across the office.

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