Page 62 of Drawn Blue Lines

“Boring.” She stared out the windshield in deep thought. After five minutes of silence, she twisted in her seat, her eyes flashing. “Have you ever had sex with a sicario?”

“That’s not fair. All my sicarios are men.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you discriminate.” The smug grin on her face was almost enough to make me slam on the brakes just to watch the seat belt slingshot her back into the seat.

“Truth or dare?” I growled.

“Truth.”

“Well, look who jumped on the boring express.” I rolled my eyes as I racked my brain trying to think of something to knock her down a couple notches. Then I remembered when she barged into my office, and I smirked. “Have you ever gotten yourself off to the thought of someone in this car.”

I was staring out the windshield, so I couldn’t see her reaction, but I felt her body shift, and from the sudden silence, I knew I had her.

“Funny, you never stop talking, but you’re suddenly really quiet, Adriana.”

“Shut up.”

“You have, haven’t you?” I couldn’t resist anymore. Turning my head, I saw that her cheeks were the color of fire, and the moment we made eye contact, she turned away. Shit, this was better than any radio station, and I wasn’t about to let it go. Keeping one hand on the wheel, I grabbed her chin with the other and forced her eyes on me. “Oh, no, princesa, this game was your idea, remember? Tell the truth. Have you touched yourself while thinking about me?”

She jerked her chin out of my hold. “Maybe. It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, I think it is. When did this happen?”

It took her a few moments to find her voice. “After you left my motel room, all right?”

“You mean after I had you pinned against the wall, completely at my mercy?”

Her lips thinned but she didn’t respond.

Stubborn-ass woman.

“I walked away because two more seconds and I would’ve kissed you while ripping that little lace dress off,” I admitted, pushing her defenses a little harder.

That earned me a sharp glare. “I don’t kiss.”

My tongue burned with a dozen questions but asked none of them. Instead, I kept myself in check and forced her hand.

She sighed. “You kiss someone you love. I fuck, Brody. I don’t kiss.”

I was stunned but focused on proving my point. “Fair enough, no kiss. Want to know what I would’ve done after that?”

“I’m on pins and needles.”

“I would’ve run my hands down those curves you keep throwing in my face. You wouldn’t have had to get yourself off, Adriana, because right up against that wall, I would’ve made you shake so hard, you would’ve collapsed.”

She curled her lips and stared at the roof of the car. “Uh-huh, right.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I’m sure the socialites you’ve been with have no complaints, but we’re talking apples and oranges here.” She tossed out one open palm and then the other to demonstrate as if I were a complete moron. “I’m not saying your vanilla way is bad, but we’d never be sexually compatible.”

I was fucking with her before, but now I was pissed.

“How would you know?”

“Let’s just say my sexual appetite is like a car’s engine, and yours is more like a bicycle.” Again, she demonstrated holding on to invisible handlebars as if I were a chimpanzee who’d just learned to eat with utensils. “You strike me as more of a candlelight and roses by a four-poster bed type of guy. That’s not me, counselor. I’m more of a dirty fucking on the hood of a car type of girl.”

I should’ve let it die. My brain knew nothing good could come of taking this any further. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my brain that was in control.

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