Page 22 of Depths of Destruction
"Then why do they want her?"
"Stop asking questions and do your job, Lòpez. I'll send the coordinates over in ten minutes." He hangs up.
Great. I still have no clear answers.
I turn. Naomi has her clothes in her hand and shoes on. She stomps on the mushy ground away from me.
I reach for her arm. "Where are you going?"
She spins and jabs me in the chest. Her sexy accent gets thicker. "You think I'm a terrorist?"
"I didn't say anything about you being a terrorist.”
She makes quotes with her fingers, glaring. "Is she on the list?"
"I'm trying to understand the intentions of the U.S. You wanted me to find out."
"And now you believe I'm a terrorist?"
She's even sexier when she's pissed.
And wet. And half naked.
Ugh. I need to get my head in the game.
"Of course I don't. But it's the only reason I could think the U.S. would want you."
She scowls at me.
I gaze at her body. "Are you going back to camp half-dressed?"
"My undergarments are wet."
"Mine, too, but I'm not going back to camp in just my underwear."
"What do you normally do?"
"I don't usually wear them when I clean up."
Her gaze drifts to my cock and she flushes. "Oh."
I point to a large tree trunk on the ground. It must have fallen during a storm.
"Let's go sit a few minutes and dry off."
"Fine," she answers, trying to walk in her heels, but she only gets stuck again.
I swoop her up in my arms and carry her to the trunk. I get my backpack and take out the towel for her to sit on.
"Thank you," she quietly says.
I take the seat next to her, moving my hand to her back. I stroke her spine with my thumb. She's a piece of art. I shouldn't touch her, but I can't resist. "I'm on your side, you know."
"Are you?"
"You don't think I am?"
"I'm not sure."
