Marked man, p.12
Marked Man, page 12
None of the women in the photos are actually me. They’re deep fakes time-stamped with dates going back at least five years, so Amador would have something to find when he inevitably went looking for intel on the identity of this upstart cartel princess we hope he’ll want to do business with. Whoever created these did an amazing job. I almost believe this woman exists.
Just for effect, halfway through the trip, I channel Ana María Blanco again and demand a stick of gum from Jake, who silently obeys, handing it over his shoulder to me, then muttering something in Spanish to the driver about spoiled girls.
That’s another thing I need to remember, though—Marco and Jake have new names too. Jake is now Owen Diedrich, and Marco is Desmond Ochoa. I silently repeat their names while I peruse Ana’s antics at some clothing-optional beach in Buenos Aires. This woman has no shame . . . which is helpful, since neither do I.
19
Sadie
I can finally breathe once we set sail with Jake at the helm. The yacht is something else. It’s twice as big as I imagined, but then I haven’t had the pleasure of riding on a lot of super-yachts before. The first thing I do once we cast off is head down to the cargo hold to inspect the goods.
“That’s a submarine, all right,” Marco says from beside me as we stare up at the enormous black, torpedo-shaped object. It’s also bigger than I expected. Typically the type of sub used in drug trafficking is far more low-tech than the one we’re delivering to Amador. This thing military-grade, just on a smaller scale. It looks more like a wingless plane than a typical sub, with windows in the front of the cockpit.
I kick off my heels and climb the ladder to reach the hatch at the top, then slip down to check out the interior. Marco climbs up after me and peeks through the windows to the inside.
“There’s room for two. Let’s see if your big ass can fit,” I call.
He slips out of his suit jacket and tie and squeezes his frame through the hatch, then settles into the seat beside me. It’s a tight fit, but still comfortable, with ample headroom, even for a man as big as he is.
“This is not what I was expecting,” he says, eyes bright as he stares at the control panel. “Ana María is pretty well-connected, if she scored something like this off the books.”
“No shit. This is what you’d get if Elon Musk decided to explore the Mariana Trench instead of the upper atmosphere.”
“Nah, this thing isn’t rated to go that deep,” he says. “I’d say 1,500 meters max, but that’s all he needs. This is not the kind of thing we want a man like Amador to get his hands on.”
“I’m going to go check out the cargo space.”
I leave him ogling the dash and head below. No wonder we needed a boat this big; it had to have a cargo hold large enough to carry this baby.
The cargo hold of the sub is down another ladder past the nav panel, in a much tighter space, with just enough room to crouch and load whatever supplies would be needed for a trip—not much, really, since vessels like this are designed to accompany a bigger boat, not travel that far on their own. But there’s definitely enough room for ample illicit goods that’d allow it to pay for itself ten times over after just a handful of trips. The space has a floor of metal grate and is outfitted with several waterproof trunks secured with big straps to the walls. Each one is lined with an oilcloth sack so if the sub capsized, whatever it was hauling would still remain dry, including the goods that are already packed inside half of those crates—something I haven’t told the guys about yet, but what I consider to be Plan B, if it comes to it.
I turn around in the cozy space and settle down cross-legged on top of one of the empty sacks at the very end, leaning against a crate. At this angle I can just see Marco in the cockpit on the level above.
Marco’s still inspecting every inch, even though he’ll have time when we arrive in the Caymans to take it out for a spin. He and Jake are on task to demo the sub for the potential buyers and train their pilots how to operate it when we hand it off to its new owner.
I tilt my head, enjoying the enthusiastic exclamations he makes under his breath when he discovers some new feature. It takes a good ten minutes before he catches on that I’m down here watching him. He pivots his seat and peeks down at me.
“I hope you’re entertained,” he says, smirking.
“Very much. You’re like a kid in a candy store in this thing.”
“It’s basically a big toy for someone like me. But I have to say you look damn good as cargo.”
His expression turns devious, which makes my nipples harden. The instant arousal is a surprise, and I’m a hair’s breadth away from going back up there and mounting him. But I hold myself back. What would Ana María Blanco do in this situation? She’d make the man come to her.
I lean back, jutting my breasts out just a little more, and smile at him. “Get down here,” I say.
He obeys, and once he descends the ladder and turns, it’s gratifying to see he’s already straining the front of his tailored trousers. The fact that he’s turned on looking at me is the biggest turn-on ever, and my breathing quickens by the time he drops to his knees to crawl the rest of the way into this small space. His big body fills every inch as he slots one knee between my legs and brackets my body with his arms. He nuzzles my cheek, grazing his lips across my ear.
“What do you say you help me christen this thing?”
“I’m game,” I tell him.
I reach between his legs and cup him, instantly hotter when I find how hard he already is. He lets out a moan when I stroke him through his pants, then yank his belt free of its buckle and unfasten his button and zipper. He’s just as efficient, shoving up my dress to yank down my panties. He gets them to my knees before pushing his hand up my thigh again and pushing two fingers between my folds. I gasp when he grazes my clit, then moan and cling to his shoulders when he pushes those fingers into me.
He stares down at me, watching my face while he finger-fucks me slowly, then eases his fingers out to rub my clit. I’m too turned on for words, only managing one command—“Naked”— before fumbling with his shirt buttons. With his one-handed help, we get his shirt open before he’s forced to remove his hand from between my legs to deal with his pants. Then he returns his attention to me.
My dress is easier. It’s not much more than a sheath of stretchy fabric that slides off like I’m a snake shedding its skin. The second I’m bare, he scoots down and buries his face between my legs.
“Oh fuck, how are you so goddamn good at that?”
All I hear is a muffled laugh as he takes me to the very brink of climax before rising and notching his cock at my entrance. He locks gazes with me for just long enough for me to nod my assent before he pushes into me. He goes slowly, which is torture, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I groan and grab his shoulders, pulling him down on top of me.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he murmurs against my throat as he begins to move. We’re wrapped around each other, hips driving against one another in perfect rhythm, and his pelvis manages to rub against my clit at just the perfect angle.
“Oh god, just like that,” I say, holding tight while he rocks my world.
He groans out his climax while my muscles spasm around him, then he all but collapses on top of me. Even though I just came, I almost wish we could keep going. Fucking Marco makes it easy to forget my other responsibilities, and I’d love to do nothing but stay cocooned inside this small space with him and avoid the world outside. The world out there wants too much from us, more than I really want to give. But in here, all that matters is what we’re willing to give each other. It’s a distraction, but I’m beginning to wonder whether I’d prefer it over the life I chose. The life I thought would be all I would ever have.
He carefully withdraws and shifts to lay beside me, but doesn’t release me entirely. I curl on my side and face him, our noses nearly touching.
“This keeps happening,” he says in a rough voice. “I’m starting to think you’re into me.”
“I could say the same about you.”
His expression darkens. “We need to be careful. If we blow your cover . . .”
I sigh and close my eyes. “It wouldn’t be that big a stretch to believe Ana María is secretly banging one of her hot bodyguards, would it?”
His jaw twitches and he rolls onto his back. “It’s an issue if you’re going to do the job you’re expected to do.”
“An issue for who? For you? Because the only way I see it being an issue that she’s into sex is if said bodyguard catches feelings for her. You need to call it what it is, Marc . . . er, Desmond. If I’m going to seduce Amador, the fact that I’m a sex kitten works to our advantage. It’s plausible that I’d want to fuck him if I’m already fucking you.”
A pained look crosses his face, and my heart clenches. I didn’t mention the flipside to the issue: What if I catch feelings for him?
I scramble up and reach for my dress and panties, but he grabs my arm. “Sadie, don’t,” he says in a soft voice. “Don’t keep running away. We can do this.”
“What is this, exactly?” I ask, ashamed at the bitterness in my tone.
“What you said. It makes sense. But I want us to be on the level about what’s real or not, okay? I care about you. This isn’t nothing to me. I told you the first time, we know each other too well for you to shut me out.”
I shoot a look over my shoulder and smirk. “That was the second time, but okay. What are you suggesting?”
“We stay honest with each other.” He slowly releases my arm and drifts a light caress down my back that makes me shiver. “I admit, after Tasha I’m gun shy about sharing. But I’m going to have to get used to the idea of sharing you at some point. I don’t like it, but it’s true. But if you get there and decide you can’t go through with it, promise you’ll say something. We’ll figure out another way.”
I swallow and stare down at the pile of clothes on my lap. “I’ve seen the photos of Amador. He’s not repulsive—far from it. If anything, what I worry about most is my lack of experience with men. What if I fuck things up by being clueless?”
He remains silent, so I dart a cautious look over my shoulder at him and find him smirking.
“What?” I turn and poke him in the side. He flinches and grabs for me, manages to catch hold of my arms, and pulls me down on top of him again.
“You’re the most relentless person I know when it comes to your training. Why should this be any different? If you don’t know how to do a thing, you study, you practice. I’m here for you, Rocket.”
“Oh yeah? And how’s that going to work when you cry uncle after I’ve sucked you dry learning how to give a proper blowjob? You said it yourself; I’m relentless.”
He grins. “I’m willing to test that determination.”
I pat his cheek. “That’s cute, but I’m serious. We have exactly three days for me to get up to speed. As fun as it’ll probably be, we need to take it seriously.”
He sobers and tucks a hand under his head, regarding me. I can tell he has an idea, but he’s holding back. Finally, he says, “Maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world if you’re a little inexperienced?”
I narrow my eyes. “You know that’s not how I roll. Also, I’m almost positive that’s not what you were about to say. Spit it out, Santos.”
He huffs out a breath. “It just feels wrong to suggest this . . .”
“But you’re going to do it anyway. Say it.”
“Jake probably wouldn’t object to, ah, helping with your training.”
20
Marco
Saying it out loud leaves a strange taste in my mouth. Not bad, just . . . weird, particularly when I consider the lengths Zane went to to avoid sharing Tasha with me. It makes me itch to suggest we bring Jake in on Sadie’s so-called training, but it also gives me an odd thrill. Maybe it’s just curiosity from being exposed to poly relationships that actually work recently. I can’t say I haven’t mulled over the logistics where my brother’s and sister’s romantic entanglements are concerned, but I have steered well clear of actually picturing either of them doing the deed.
Sadie’s eyes widen and she lets out a laugh. “No fucking way. Besides, the way you just said it, you clearly hate the idea. You really don’t want to share me, do you?”
“What I want is beside the point,” I say. “I’m more than happy to be your only training tool, but you and I both know I won’t be enough. Not in the timeframe we have. Just think about it.”
She frowns down at me. “You’re serious, aren’t you? I’m not sure whether I should be hurt or not.”
“You shouldn’t be. And I shouldn’t have to lay out the logic for you, either . . .” The devious spark in her eyes makes me trail off, and I narrow mine. “You just reverse psyched me, didn’t you?”
“Sorry, you’re an easy mark. But seriously, if we’re going to bring Jake in, I want to make sure we’re clear on what this is.” She waves a hand, encompassing the small cargo area, which has grown warmer as we talk. I slide my hands down her back, cup her ass, and squeeze. At the same time, I lift my head to capture her mouth in a kiss. She moans into me, tilting her hips so her pelvis presses against the head of my flaccid cock, which twitches in renewed awareness of the horny, naked woman on top of me.
“What this is,” I say when I release her, “is something I’m going to want more of after this op is over. I want you to myself when it’s all said and done.”
“I knew it,” she says. “You really don’t like sharing, do you?”
“No, but I will. Consider Jake practice for me as much as you.”
She hums into my mouth when she resumes our kiss, this time reaching between us to grip my shaft. She strokes me to full hardness, then presses my tip to her opening and pushes down until I’m sunk deep before she begins fucking me with slow undulations of her hips.
She really doesn’t need as much practice as she thinks—men aren’t that complicated. But one thing we know about Amador is that he’s bisexual, which means there’s a chance he won’t just want her, no matter how closely she resembles his old lover. If we’re going to gain his trust in order to get him to lower his defenses, we need to be prepared.
I don’t think Jake will be a hard sell on helping with Sadie, but I also don’t want to blindside him with it. The three of us have always made a good team, so this should be easy.
Just tell that to the dark dread creeping into my gut over the idea of letting a vicious killer touch either of them.
As expected, the staff on the yacht maintain a polite distance from us, but somehow always seem to be available when needed. I wasn’t involved in the transaction to secure this boat for the mission, but having met the man who loaned it to us, I’m not surprised the people he hired know what they’re doing. It helps that mealtimes are structured, so all we have to do is show up when a bell rings. I don’t know if this is normal luxury yacht protocol, or if Drake Stavros just knew what would work for a team of sailors.
After lunch, Sadie excuses herself to go change, leaving me with Jake at the dining table. He sits back with a sated sigh and stares at me as I watch her disappear toward the foredeck and the hatch leading below.
“This is getting serious, isn’t it? Do I need to worry?”
“Only if you’re afraid of doing what needs to be done for the mission.” I redirect my gaze to him, holding steady until his eyebrows draw together and he sits forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“I’m listening.”
“She isn’t the only one who needs to be prepared to seduce the target, if it comes down to it. She’s just the safest bet.”
I have to give him credit for not flinching. Sinner’s always had one of the best poker faces. But knowing him, he’s got to be feeling something. He finally betrays whatever must be going through his head with the slightest clearing of his throat.
“If I’m understanding you correctly,” he begins in a careful, even tone, “you’re suggesting you and I need to, um, get used to the idea of same-sex contact. Sexual contact. Am I warm?”
“Pretty much on the nose,” I say. “Right now, Sadie thinks she needs practice with men, so she needs you to step up because the way she trains, she’s going to go through me in a trice. I didn’t clue her in on the fact that you and I need it too. It can stay between us, if you want . . .”
I trail off at the wide grin that spreads across his face, and can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “What the fuck? Are you into the idea?”
“Dude, you know I’m a deviant fucker. You didn’t think I’d be into nailing you if I had a good excuse?”
I blink at him, speechless. The asshole just laughs.
“You’re wondering how you never knew this about me. Well, we all keep secrets to preserve relationships. I figured I’d let you in on it when the time came. And evidently that time is now.”
“You and all those women . . .”
He shrugs. “Who I remember by name, in case you forgot. I remember all the men too. And all the others who don’t fit into neat little boxes. I’m an equal opportunity lover, though it’s been a while. I admit I nearly hooked up with Chris Longo last night when you two kicked me out, but we were both too tired, so we just talked for a bit and fell asleep. He did give me some good insight into what makes Amador tick, though—details he left out during the interrogation. They were lovers.”
I shove aside my shock and latch onto this like it’s a lifeline. “And?”
“And this is a strategy I’d have employed without telling you, if it came down to it. I’m just glad to have it out in the open so we can work together instead.”
“Seducing him yourself, you mean.”
“Anything to make sure the op succeeds.”
