Page 78 of Drawn Blue Lines

The thought barely formed in my head before I had my hand on it. “I hate this damn thing. Take it off.”

“Are you insane? I need it to—”

“Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.” I had no idea where the command came from, but I wasn’t backing down. When she hesitated, I gave it a sharp tug, and she yelped.

“Fine, Jesus. It’s pinned. Give me a damn minute.” Pins flew at my head like small torpedoes, but I got my way. The bright red atrocity landed at my feet, and I looked up to find her glaring at me, fists clenched and mad as hell.

With long dark hair falling over her shoulders.

The elevator stopped, and whatever force held us together snapped. Adriana shoved both hands against my chest, running a hand through her hair as she stomped into the darkened hallway leading toward the club.

In a complete reversal, now I chased her as the muffled beat from the club vibrated the walls around us. “Adriana! Would you slow down? Christ, how do you run so fast in those things?”

She was already halfway across the club when I caught her arm. Spinning around, she jerked out of my hold, eyes blazing. “Dios mío, are you always this suffocating? Because if so…” Her tirade trailed off as her eyes drifted over my left shoulder then widened in panic. “Oh shit.”

“What?” I turned to see she was looking at when she jerked my arm and tugged me back.

“Why don’t you send up some flares while you’re at it?” Glancing over my shoulder again, she groaned. “Fuck, they’re blocking the exit.”

“Who’s blocking the exit?”

She grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

I didn’t have a chance to argue before she dragged me toward the dance floor, refusing to stop until she had us sandwiched in the middle of what could only be described as a human petri dish as bodies writhed around us in a hedonistic orgy. Everybody grinded, touched, rubbed, and stroked to Latin-infused rap music set to a techno salsa beat.

I’d never seen anything like it.

Adriana turned around and pressed her ass so hard against me I groaned. “We’re being watched,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Act like you want me.”

“Tell me what the hell is—”

Lifting her chin, Adriana plastered a fake smile on her face, and that’s when I saw the fear hiding behind her eyes. The rare show of vulnerability struck a familiar chord inside me.

I stepped back, but Adriana held tight, sliding a hand to my cheek and running her fingers through the stubble. “Play along, counselor. Your life may depend on it.”

Whatever little control I had left splintered. Grasping her hips, I hauled her against me, pressing every inch of her body against mine. We fit together like a puzzle. Soft curves molded into hard muscle, and wrapping my hands around her waist, I rolled my hips to the sinful beat. I smiled at her sharp inhale and trailed a hand up her stomach, my fingers barely grazing the edge of her breast before sinking them deep into her hair.

“Brody?” The breathy way she said my name was so damn sexy I almost forgot why we were doing this. Good thing I was one hell of a multitasker.

Tightening my hand in her hair, I pulled just hard enough for her ear to land by my mouth. “We’re going to play a game, princesa. It’s called I ask a question, and you answer.” Just to drive my point home, I ground my erection against her ass.

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold in a lusty whimper. “Fine.”

“Who’s here?” Sweat rolled down my temple as we dipped and swayed to the evocative rhythm. When she didn’t answer, I ran my hand down her thigh and slipped my fingers under her dress.

“Men,” she groaned, digging her nails into the back of my neck. “Muñoz men. They…fuck…” Her knees buckled as I toyed with the edge of her panties. “They know me.”

“See? This isn’t so hard.” I chuckled and nipped at her ear. “Or maybe it is. You tell me.” Bending my knees, I gave a sharp upward thrust under her dress. Taking advantage of the position, I moved my hips, my jean-clad cock rubbing against the outside of her drenched panties.

“Ay, Dios mío.”

“Let’s try another one. Is this what your fiancé left to arrange?”

“Ex-fiancé.” Her breath hitched as I hooked my finger in the scrap of lace, pulling them to the side while continuing to roll and thrust my hips. “And no, he has nothing to do with this.”

I stilled all movement. “I don’t share, Adriana.”

She looked up, raw want in her eyes. “There’s nothing between us.”

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