Page 22 of El Malo

I nearly drop the bottle of tequila. “You scared the crap out of me.”

Javier emerges from the shadows on the side of the house with his hands in his pockets. His big, expensive watch catches the moonlight and flashes. He’s changed from earlier, his hair wet from a recent shower. My gaze roves over his white T-shirt that molds to his impressive chest. His black track pants hug his muscled thighs and my mouth waters.

I can do this.

It’s not like he’s a dog.

He’s a fine-looking man.

Seducing him will be second nature.

“Storm’s coming,” he murmurs as he walks past me. He rests his forearms on the railing and I get a nice view of his ass.

“Yep,” I agree as I swallow more tequila.

He turns and flashes me a dimpled grin that makes my thighs clinch. “Better slow down on that tequila, manzanita, or you’ll end up naked in my bed.”

I laugh at his arrogance. “You wish, baddie.”

He walks over to me and pries the tequila bottle from my grip, his fingers brushing against the back of my hand, sending hot currents of excitement coursing through me. “Baddie?”

With the liquor burning through my veins, I feel bolder. I poke his hard stomach. “Yep. El Malo,” I mock, making my voice deep like a man. “The bad. And you’re the king baddie.”

His dimple reappears as he brings the bottle to his lips. I lick my own because damn he’s making me thirsty. He tilts his head back and swallows, his Adam’s apple moving as he drinks.

“Well, if you work for the king baddie,” he says with a black eyebrow raised, “what does that make you, criada?”

I shrug as I grab the bottle and take another drink. “The bad maid?”

He chuckles as he reaches down and curls his strong hand around my wrist. I’m tugged to my feet easily. Dizzy on my feet, I sway slightly. His hands find my waist to steady me. “You’re a good maid, mami. So good.” His dark eyes flicker with hunger.

I want to get eaten.

A giggle bursts from me. “You want to eat me.”

His lips turn up in a wolfish grin. “I sure do. I bet you taste like sweet, succulent apples.”

“I—” A scream rips from me the moment I see one of the lawn chair cushions blowing away. The bottle falls from my grip and hits the deck, shattering.

A strong arm wraps around my waist and he lifts me while simultaneously pulling a gun from his waistband. He swings it around to shoot at whatever I screamed at. His quick movements to protect me have my heart swelling in my chest.

“It’s gone,” I complain, my bottom lip pouting out. My feet dangle as he holds me in his grip.

His nose nuzzles my hair and he inhales me, sending blasts of need rippling through me. “What’s gone, Rosa?”

“The cushion.”

He chuckles against my hair as he tucks his gun behind him back into his pants. “You scared the fuck out of me, mami.”

My flesh heats. “Don’t tell anyone a little ol’ maid can scare the big bad baddie of them all.”

He walks us away from the mess and drops me to my feet. His arm stays curled around me, just under my breasts. “You shouldn’t scream like that unless you’re getting hurt or when my mouth is latched onto your cunt.”

I tremble in his grip. Fear is the last thing I’m feeling right now. My plan to seduce him is almost too easy. A job perk if you will. I want him to slide his palm under my shirt and pinch my nipple. “Nobody cares about them.”

“Who?”

“The lawn chair cushions.”

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