Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (29 page)

“One of the cocktail waitresses is selling drugs on 331

the fl oor right out in the open. As a sideline? Or is that part of her job? I don’t even want to get into how fucked up that would be. So, with everything else that’s been going on in my life, I’d had enough. I overreacted. I do that sometimes.”

I lifted my chin and glared at where I suspected he lurked in the shadows. “I’m not the model of detach-ment that you are.”

Martinez’ immediate dangerous laugh sent chills up my spine. “Detached, huh? Th

at’s what you think of me?”

I held my ground even when I heard his muffl ed

footsteps edging closer. “Yes.”

Th

en there were no shadows between us, no darkness to hide in as he materialized and I could see his face.

My stomach clenched at the hard glint in his eyes.

“Wanna know a secret?” he whispered.

His lethal tone scared the crap out of me. I managed to make my head nod one time.

“Detached is the
last
thing I am when it comes to you.” His ragged breath drifted across my cheek.

Baiting a caged tiger, when I was also in the cage?

Not a good plan. Naturally, that’s the one I chose.

“Yeah? How do you fi gure?” I tossed his words back at him. “I don’t see you outside my house, or outside of Fat Bob’s. When I do see you away from a room without a bed, you act like you don’t know who the hell I am.

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Seems pretty goddamned detached to me, Martinez.”

Th

e air between us became so heavy I doubted an axe could’ve cut through it.

Every cell in my body went on high alert.

Instead of denying it, he grabbed me and crushed his mouth to mine. Hard.

Th

e kiss was angry. Hungry.

It was hot as hell.

My adrenaline spiked higher.

Martinez’ hands were everywhere; squeezing my ass, my hips, my breasts. One hand tugged the hair tie from my ponytail. When my hair was free, he gathered a fi st-ful, angled my head to his liking and ate at my mouth with zeal bordering on brutality. Fingertips roved my face; his thumb tested the pulse pounding in my throat, stopping at the collar of my shirt.

Buttons fl ew as he ripped my blouse open.

Th

is was absolute insanity. One minute we were tearing into one another; the next we were tearing off each other’s clothes.

Welcome to sexual obsession.

My back hit the door. I bit his bottom lip, but it didn’t faze him. Not even when we shared the taste of blood.

Neither of us had an ounce of restraint.

Someone had to show some sense.

Not me. I’d been low on common sense my whole 333

life and my ability to protest was buried in Martinez’ demanding mouth.

He kneed my thighs apart, sliding his muscular leg between mine until I was riding his thigh.

Ah, man, that felt so goddamn good. I squeezed my legs together and ground against him, aching for that perfect amount of hard friction that would send me off like a rocket.

My shoulders scraped the door as he wrenched my shirt off . When he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra, he groaned.

I arched into his greedy hands, letting him take what he wanted, giving me what I needed. I craved this side of him; completely out of control, completely focused on me. On us. Sex leveled the playing fi eld. Sex was the sphere where we were in perfect synchronicity.

His thumbs stroked my nipples. Chills raced through me. My belly swooped when that invisible cord connecting my breasts to my sex hummed, electrifi ed by his touch.

My hands traced the hard contours of his jaw, the rigid muscles in his neck until I reached his skin hidden beneath leather. I jerked the snaps on his vest.
Pop
pop pop
.

Th

e vest thunked to the fl oor.

A tight T-shirt kept me from all that warm, smooth 334

fl esh. I tugged the tail free from his jeans, rattling the tangle of chains dangling from his belt loops.

With one hand Martinez grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it over his head.

Hot skin. God. I nearly purred when his bare chest touched mine. I nearly cried when he removed his thigh and set me back on my feet.

Th

en his teeth nipped a path down my neck and his hands were on the waistband of my pants. While he tore at the zipper, his mouth latched onto my right nipple.

Primal heat like I’d never known burned through me; I swore blisters formed on my skin in the wake of his scorching mouth.

My pants slithered down my legs. He lifted that busy, skillful mouth long enough to say, “Shoes,” then dragged hot, wet suckling kisses to the other breast.

I kicked my shoes off , my pants away.

Martinez dropped to his knees.

My heart beat faster. Sweat tracked my spine. I threaded my fi ngers through his soft hair as he kissed my belly.

His tongue slipped inside the waistband of my thong and my head fell back as I lost myself in mindless urgency.

Strong hands gripped my hips so tightly I knew he’d leave fi nger-shaped bruises.

I didn’t care.

“Tell me no. Tell me this isn’t what you want.”

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I couldn’t. He knew it.

His hot breath fanned over the center of me. He brushed his mouth back and forth where I was hot. Wet.

Aching.

He tugged and the seams on my little scrap of pant-ies tore like rice paper.

Martinez bent his head and tasted me. Teased me, proving the mastery he had over my body. Pleased himself as he made me thrash and whimper and shake as he purposely kept me hanging on the ragged edge.

It’d been too damn long. God. Why had it been so long? My body trembled like a junkie desperate for a fi x.

I was at his mercy.

He lifted his face and looked up at me. I almost came right then.

Warm, rough-skinned palms skimmed the outside of my legs from ankles to hipbones. Back on his feet, he kissed me, an unhurried, deep, thorough swamping of my senses. I heard him unhook his belt. Heard the zipper slide down. His damp lips grazed my ear and he said, “Turn around.”

I expected he’d throw me up against the wall and fuck me senseless. Countless times we hadn’t made it to a bedroom and had improvised on any nearby fl at surface. Vertical. Horizontal. Didn’t matter.

Evidently he had something else in mind.

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“Do it,” he hissed.

I did it without question.

Anger had spiked his primal instincts to dangerous levels. Yet, Martinez wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t go beyond the parameters we’d established. Th ere was

a marked diff erence between forced violence during sex and mutual intentional roughness.

I liked him rough, raw, and as needy as I was.

Erotic sensations bombarded me, the cold door pressing my cheek, the warmth of his chest fi rm against my back, the labored sounds of our breathing. Th e cruel

possessiveness of his hands.

And his scent. Oh, God, the way he smelled seeped into my lungs. An elixir that made me dizzy, crazy, and stupid. Made me forget everything besides gorging myself on everything that
was
him.

Denim scratched the back of my thighs and his jeans fell to his knees.

“Tell me no,” he whispered in my hair.

I still couldn’t.
Wouldn’t
. I wanted this and he knew it.

He widened his stance. “Put your feet on my boots.”

His hands tracked my hips, the sensitive bend in my waist, detouring over my breasts, across my collarbones and shoulders, to caress the underside of my arms.

I shivered with elemental need.

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He fl attened my palms on the door and reversed the sequence down my back, digging his thumbs into my spine while his maddeningly slow caresses intensifi ed the tremors racking me inside and out.

Martinez bent his knees and leaned back until I felt the hard tip of his sex nudging between my thighs. He pushed aside my hair and placed his soft lips in the curve of my shoulder.

His rough fi ngertips pressed on my lower back, a lover’s signal for me to raise my hips. Soon as I did, he slid inside me to the hilt.

My eyes rolled back in my head and I whimpered.

In his position when he began to thrust every inch of him hit that sweet spot. Every. Damn. Time. Over and over until I gasped for breath. For control. For
something
.

His lips, teeth, and tongue created a hot, wet, sensual onslaught on my fl esh as he slammed into me. His thickly whispered Spanish phrases burned my skin like a brand. Th

en he sank his mouth into that magic spot on my neck and it was over.

I came so hard I forgot to breathe. I came so hard I saw stars. I came so hard Martinez didn’t stand a chance at holding off and followed right behind me into oblivion.

When the roaring in my head stopped, I realized the room had cooled and was strangely silent.

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My tangled hair hung in my face. My legs and arms shook. He seemed to be in the same stunned shape.

“Jesus Christ,” I panted. “What the hell was that?”

Martinez kissed the spot below my ear and whispered, “Detachment.”

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The sex high wore off immediately. I crashed.

Something inside me broke. I started to cry. Not delicate, controlled little sniffl

es. Huge, ugly sobs rip-

pled through my body.

Martinez slowly pulled out of me. He set me back on my feet and stepped away from the train wreck.

Using the door for support, I lowered myself to my knees and crumpled to the fl oor. I curled into a ball and wept.

He didn’t touch me for the longest time. Finally, I felt his gentle hands on my head as he tried to brush the hair from my face.

I fl inched.

His hands snapped back like he’d been burned.

I cried harder.

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His reaction didn’t register until the worst of my sob fest had abated. I pushed up from the fl oor, wrapped my arms around my skinned knees and peered at him through my veil of hair.

He’d plunked down next to me, jeans refastened, purposely not touching me, his muscled forearms resting on his knees, his face pointed at the carpet.

And then I knew. He thought he’d hurt me. He thought my tears were because the sex had been so rough and raw.

My eyes fi lled again. My low, scratchy voice didn’t sound like my voice at all. “You didn’t hurt me, Tony.”

He raised his head. “Th

en why the tears?”

“I don’t know! I just feel so . . . so lost. I haven’t seen you. And when I do see you alone it’s a big explosion of sex that’s hot and sweet and so goddamn perfect, and then it’s awful because we fi ght and I know it won’t last. Nothing ever lasts for me. You act so cool and don’t seem to care that things are falling apart. Goddammit,
I’m
falling apart.”

More tears fell.

Martinez swore. Next thing I knew, he’d scooped me into his arms. He carried me to a couch, cradled me on his lap and covered my bare skin with a soft blanket.

I continued to cry. He squeezed me so tightly his belt buckle dug into my hip and I could hardly breathe. I 341

didn’t care. I clung to him even when the tough girl inside me sneered and urged me to fl ee.

I burrowed my face in his warm neck and slipped my lips across his hot skin, tasting salt from his sweat mixed with my tears. I inhaled his familiar scent and let it calm me.

He swept the hair from my tear-dampened face and tilted my head back. Our eyes met and we measured each other.

I broke fi rst. I always did. “What?”

“You are amazingly beautiful.”

A funny tickle started low in my belly. Martinez never said things like that. Was he gearing up for the

“It’s been fun but it’s not really working out” speech?

“I don’t ever tell you, do I?”

I shook my head.

“It’s not because I’m not thinking it.” He twisted a section of my hair around his fi nger. “Every time I look at you, blondie, I wonder what the hell you’re doing with me.”

Th

is couldn’t be good. Th

e damn tears came back.

Martinez cupped my face between his hands. “Jesus.

Don’t cry.”

“If you’re dumping me, you bastard, I think I’m entitled to cry.”

A brilliant smile lit his face. “See? Th

at smart ass

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answer is why I’m so crazy about you.” His thumb skat-ed across my cheekbone, wiping away the tears. “I’m not dumping you, Julie.”

“You’re not?”

“No. You should dump me. Why you’ve put up with my shit in the last month . . .” His grip on my head tightened. “You should be pissed off about the way I’ve treated you.”

“I am.” I didn’t look away even when his sudden ferocity scared me. “Do I embarrass you? Am I just your dirty little secret?”

“No.”

“Th

en why don’t you want anyone to see us together?”

“Don’t you think I want to take you out? Show you off ? You’re beautiful and bright and the toughest goddamn woman I’ve ever known. I want every man to know you’re
mine
.”

Silence.

Normally such macho posturing would make my ears bleed, but it was a strange confession coming from Martinez. And as I watched that fi erce, yet unsure glint return to his eyes, I knew it’d been hard as hell for him to admit.

“Well, good, but don’t expect me to tattoo your name on my ass or anything.”

He laughed. “I love this smart mouth.” Th en he set-343

tled his lips on mine and if I’d had any doubt his words were complete and total bullshit, they vanished in the way he kissed me.

I relaxed my forehead to his. “So, what do we do now?”

“I explain what’s been going on.”

A little too ominous for my liking.

His hands slid down my neck. He slapped my ass and jerked away the blanket. “Put some clothes on. I can’t concentrate when you’re naked.”

“What am I supposed to wear? You ruined my shirt and my underwear, remember?”

“Vividly. And I’m not apologizing.” He strode to where our clothes were strewn on the carpet like a yard sale.