Tease Me (7 page)

I was so tired it was hard to form a rational
thought. It took effort to think back. Even though I was exhausted
and scared out of my fucking mind, I was ashamed I had messed up. I
dreaded seeing my father again and being subjected to the lecture
he would give me. I was fairly certain he would yell at me instead
of hug me on my return.

Fuck. I didn’t want to go back.

The thought forced itself
into my mind, startling me. It was true, though…which made me feel
guilty. I didn’t want to go back to being the good girl. Back to
doing what I was told, following the rules, doing what I
should
do and completely
ignoring what I
wanted
to do.

I looked around the room. I didn’t want to
stay here. But I knew, without a doubt, I didn’t want to go back to
Indianapolis. I had no idea where I’d go … if I ever got out of
here. Here, where I was a prisoner. A Calaveras prisoner at
that.

Alejandro fucking Calaveras.

Why did the thought of him
send chills down my spine? I wanted to find out if the rest of his
body was covered in tattoos, like his arms. Damn, why did he have
to be so good looking? I wrapped my arms around myself, and my hard
nipples pressed against my arms. Dammit. Damn
him.

I let out a breath as the reality of the
situation came crashing down on me. Alejandro Calaveras was a bad
person. He did bad things. He didn’t care about anything but his
business. I knew he killed his own men. I was most definitely
fucked…and not fucked in a good way.

Someone knocked on the door, making me jump.
My eyes widened, and I didn’t breathe.

“
Hola?
” the person on the other side of the door called. She said
something in Spanish then opened the door. It was the maid from the
kitchen, and she was carrying a white shopping bag with black
handles. She smiled at me, but her eyes didn’t convey any
happiness.

She set the bag down, smiled again, and left
the room. I got up, trembling as I walked to the bag. I picked it
up and hurried back to the bed. There was a blue dress inside. It
still had the tags on it, and I recognized the designer name. This
dress cost more than my rent.

The fabric was silky smooth. It would feel so
good against my skin. I held it up. It was my size, but short and
would be tight. I didn’t want to wear that and objectify
myself.

I put it back in the bag and
leaned back on the pillows. My mind fought off sleep with fear. I
knew I couldn’t stay awake forever. How long would it be until
someone realized I was missing? I had two weeks of vacation. That’s
fourteen days of not going to work, of being able to stay holed up
in my apartment without interacting with the world. Shit. It
wouldn’t be
that
unusual for me to be a hermit. Nerves bubbled in my
stomach.

Misty wasn’t around to check in on me, and my
dad would be busy with work and taking care of Scott. No one would
miss me until I didn’t show up for work once my vacation ended. It
hurt, just a little, knowing it was so easy for me to go off the
grid for a few weeks. I had no one that depended on me, no one that
missed me if I wasn’t clocking in.

There was a knock on the door. I jumped.
Without giving me time to answer, Alejandro opened the door.

“
Is the dress the wrong
size?” he asked, looking at the blue fabric that was sticking out
of the bag.

I shook my head. “It’s right.”

He smiled. “I know a woman’s body well,” he
said, his brown eyes meeting mine. Ugh, that accent. I didn’t want
to find it so fucking sexy. Warm tingles made their way through me.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He bit his
lip and tipped his head. My pussy quivered. “Put it on then.”

Hypnotized by his Latin charm, I started to
nod and reach for the dress. Then I blinked and shook my head. “I
might be your hostage, but I’m not your sex slave. I want something
comfortable and not revealing.” The words spilled from me at a
startling rate. My cheeks flushed, embarrassed by my own honestly.
But damn, that felt good. Why the fuck had I waited so long to
speak up?

Alejandro looked surprised. His broad
shoulders tightened, and his lips parted. He had full lips. I
wanted to put mine to his. “Comfortable?”

I arched my eyebrows. “Yeah. Like a t-shirt
and pajamas.”

Alejandro ran a hand through his dark hair
and laughed. Lord help me, he was hot. “Wear the dress or wear the
robe. I don’t care.” He smiled. “Or nothing at all.”

I pulled the robe tightly over my chest. The
smooth fabric rubbed against my nipples. I shivered. Alejandro
looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

He blinked, long lashes coming together. “If
you want to eat, come downstairs. I want to know more about you,
Ellie Morgan.”

Then he turned and walked out of the room,
closing the door behind him. I waited for him to come back with
different clothes. When he didn’t, I stood and begrudgingly put the
dress on. It fit me perfectly, and I wouldn’t have worn a bra with
it even if I had one. It was a little short to go commando in; I’d
have to be careful when I sat down that I didn’t flash my
goodies…unless I wanted to.

Wait, what? I shook my head. No, no, no…that
shouldn’t have crossed my mind. I picked up the robe and slipped it
on, tightly tying it around myself. Barefoot, I padded to the
door.

Was this really happening? Was I really
inside Alejandro Calaveras’s house, wearing clothes he bought for
me, about to have dinner with him?

I took a breath, reaching inside for the
bravery I fought so hard to find when Alejandro confronted me in
the warehouse. I put my hand on the doorknob. Holy fuck. It was
real. It really was.

The dining room was huge. It was dark and
cold as I passed by the large, oak table. Everything was beautiful
and must have cost a fortune. I could hear Alejandro speaking to
someone, words spilling from his mouth so fast I didn’t think I
could keep up even if it was in English.

I paused when a painting in the dining room
caught my eye. It was of a dark forest lit by blue moonlight. There
was something soporific about the still trees. I studied the
painting for a few seconds. The brush strokes were similar to the
painting in the guest room. There was no signature at the bottom of
the picture.

I followed the sound of Alejandro’s voice
into the kitchen. He was leaning on a gray granite counter holding
a bottle of water in one hand and his phone in the other. His eyes
flashed when he saw me, and he slowly let them trail over my
body.

An older man stood at the stove, browning
ground beef. The wonderful smell of Mexican food made my stomach
grumble. Alejandro turned his back to me, finishing the
conversation. I stood in the middle of the spacious kitchen,
feeling self conscious and scared.

The man at the stove—who had to be the
cook—turned and did a double take. He had to be used to Alejandro
bringing women home with him, but he probably was expecting some
scantily clad bimbo and not me, with wet, messy hair and a robe
over my designer dress.

“
Ellie,” Alejandro said,
setting his phone done. “Sit.” He motioned to a table off in a nook
off the kitchen. Through the dark windows, I caught a glimpse of
the ocean. The breath caught in my chest.

I blinked, recovering fast, and moved to the
table. I sat opposite Alejandro.

“
So,” he started, folding
his hands on the table. “Tell me about yourself.”

I put my hands on my elbows and pressed my
arms into my stomach. “Uhh…I’m a cop.”

“
I already know that,” he
said. His tone was authoritative and commanding. I was scared of
him and even more attracted to him. In proper light, I could see
that a five o’clock shadow looked absolutely fucking perfect on
him. “Tell me something else.”

“
There isn’t much else,” I
said honestly. “I work, a lot.” I didn’t see any point in lying to
him. “My best—and only—friend moved thousands of miles away, so I
spend my free time watching too much TV and looking at funny cats
on the Internet. I can barely pay my rent, and no one appreciates
me at work.” I put my hands on the table. “Now tell me something
about yourself.”

Alejandro leaned back. He tipped his head
toward me. “No,” he said simply. “Tell me more.”

I sighed. If he wanted info on my family or
friends to use as blackmail, he could get it with just a few clicks
on the Internet. I was so glad that Misty and her unborn baby moved
far away. “My father and brother are cops too. But you know that.”
I pressed a smile.

“
I’m sorry about your
brother,” Alejandro said and leaned back in his chair. The cook
came over, serving us each a glass of water.

“
No, you’re not,” I said and
reached out, catching a bead of condensation that rolled down the
glass with my finger.

Alejandro chuckled. “You’re right. I am not
sorry.”

“
And you say you’re not a
bad person,” I mumbled.

He leaned forward. The width
of the table was between us, but he felt close. My skin prickled.
“I never said that. I
am
a bad person. I do very bad things. You should be
scared of me, Eleanor Morgan.”

I swallowed hard and managed to nod. “I
know,” I whispered, my voice weak. “Trust me, I know.” I tried hard
to fight back the tears. Really, I did. I didn’t want to cry in
front of Alejandro. I looked up, blinking away the tears. It was
more than the fear and being somewhere unknown. It was the whole
fucking thing: the standstill my life was in, feeling
underappreciated at work, having no friends, barely having enough
money to get by…my life was a disappointment, to say the least.

“
I won’t hurt you,” he
stated softly. My gaze dropped to his handsome face, and suddenly I
felt safe. He licked his lips and picked up his glass of water. He
took a drink and set the glass back on the table. His dark eyes met
mine. “Not if I don’t have to.”

His words were cold, and the feeling of a
safe haven was suddenly gone. I took in a deep breath, steadying
myself. Alejandro was impregnable. I was stuck here as his
prisoner.

“
So what do I have to do?” I
asked, voice shaking.

Alejandro had a practiced calm. He had to. He
was the big boss, the kingpen. He dealt with things way worse than
one measly cop finding out about his operation. But as soon as the
question escaped my lips, that practiced calm faltered.

It faltered for just a second, but I saw it.
He had no fucking clue what he was going to do with me.

“
You have to listen to me.
Stay in the house, stay quiet.”

I nodded. “For how long? Forever?”

Alejandro pursed his lips. “We will have to
see about that.”

I picked up my glass and took a drink. The
water was cold and had a hint of lemon. I set it back on the table,
running my finger through the wet ring it had left on the surface.
“I can do that,” I finally said. I tried to convince myself it
wasn’t going to be that bad as long as I listened to Alejandro.

The cook brought us food: enchiladas, rice,
and beans. I devoured mine and ate another serving. Though I was
still scared shitless, sitting here in an expensive dress across
the table from Alejandro made me feel more like a guest than a
prisoner.

“
I assume you are tired,”
Alejandro said when he finished his meal. He wiped his mouth and
stood. His black shirt clung to his muscular body. I looked him
over, unable to help the way my stomach fluttered.

Good Lord, the man was attractive.

“
Exhausted,” I said and
stood as well.

“
Then goodnight,” he said
simply and turned. “You will be locked in your room. Don’t think
about escaping. That, I can promise you chica, will force me to
hurt you.”

*

I dreamed about Alejandro. In the dream, he
burst into the trailer I had been thrown into, yelling at his men
in Spanish. I couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but
I knew he was there to rescue me. With a gun slung over his
shoulder and a little blood on his face, he was irresistible. He
scooped me up and carried me to a bed where he threw me down,
ripped off my clothes, and fucked the shit out of me.

I woke up with a wet and throbbing pussy.

I sat up, running my hands over my face. My
heart was beating fast, and I was a little out of breath. The image
of Alejandro, naked and standing over me, lingered in my mind.
Dream-Alejandro had a big dick, of course, and he knew exactly how
to make me come in seconds.

I flopped back down against the pillows. The
sun was low in the sky, leaving me to believe it was early in the
morning. What time did the sun rise in Mexico? It couldn’t be that
different from when it rose in Indiana.

I hooked my arm around a fluffy pillow and
closed my eyes. I was wet and warm. I wanted to be filled, to be
stroked and touched and fucked. I hadn’t felt this turned on in
days, weeks even.

I turned and looked at the door. There was
most likely someone standing out there. Had I moaned out loud in my
sleep? I’d come so hard I was screaming in the dream. I pushed my
thighs together. There was no way I’d be able to fall back
asleep.

Unless…

No. There was someone in the hall. And
Alejandro was just a few doors down from me. I didn’t know what
room was his, actually. He could be in the room next to mine for
all I knew. Maybe he had heard me.