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I don’t realize he’s walking me backward until I jolt against something hard. The car I destroyed is at my back and I’m being bent over a hood with a giant, bat-sized dent in it.
Dare’s kiss slows down and I feel his focus shifting from me to the vehicle, as if he’s concerned about all the glass shards and other possible hazards.
Ugh. He’s soresponsible.I don’t care if we’re making out in the middle of a knife-throwing contest. It’s been too long since I’ve touched him, too long since his mouth has been on me. I’m not giving him up until I have my fill of his hot, possessive kisses.
Mouth still connected to mine, Dare slips both hands under the small of my back, intending to pulse me upward. Stubbornly, I take his bottom lip into my mouth and suck on it while wrapping my leg around his waist.
The motion drags him forward. His left hand slams the hood next to my head as he loses his balance and falls on top of me. Eyes hooded, he looks at me for a second, not moving. And then he shifts his hips up and down in an intentionally brazen tease.
My heart crashes through my ribs and does a rolling flip to the concrete as lust floods low in my abdomen. I tremble, overheating with sensation, when he kisses me again. My hands glide down his glorious back, his sides, his stomach.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
In direct contrast to my throbbing lower half’s instructions, Dare stops. I loop my arms around his neck and press up, intending to galvanize him back into action.More rubbing and kissing please.His hand rises to my waist, and I feel him pulling me up, grounding me so my feet are flat on the pavement.
Annoyance burns my insides.
Why is he stopping me? Who told him he could?
I stubbornly bounce back on my toes and sip from his mouth. Slow and sensual at first. And then quick, determined. I devour my share because I have one mission and one mission only. Dare Sullivan will not be released until I’m satisfied.
His arms relax around me and I feel the fight leave his body.
My heart is about to crash out of my chest like those old commercials of the Kool-Aid man bursting through walls to get into birthday parties.
Until Dare eases back with an annoyed expression, which quickly shifts into a blank stare.
I look around and realize there are two Uruguayan cops glaring darkly at me. They speak at a breakneck speed with lots of pointing and motions. One of them is holding a baton and I flinch.
Uh-oh.
I’m guessingthisis why Dare tried to slow us down earlier.
My bad.
I’m usually better at picking up on cues, but I lose my mind when his lips are on me.
As I duck behind Dare, I imagine what the angry cops are yelling.
‘We got a call. Code 114. Property damage. But now we’re going to charge you for public indecency.’
I hope that Dare’s argument is convincing enough to keep me from being hauled off in handcuffs. I don’t want to go to Uruguayan prison. It was hard enough navigating the local airport alone.
Unfortunately, the cops aren’t giving Dare a chance to talk and they both seem pretty amped up.
I glance up to assess Dare’s comfort level. If he looks panicked, I’m going to run. I’d rather take my chances at the US embassy.
Thankfully, Dare is calm and seems content to let the cops huff and puff in front of him. When they quiet down, I wait for him to pop out a Spanish translation dictionary or at least try to explain our situation.
Instead, he goes for something in his pocket.
I immediately bristle. Is he taking out his wallet? Does he seriously think he canbribethese officers?
He flashes his phone instead and scrolls to his contacts. When he shows it to the police officers, they shift back uneasily. One of them points in Dare’s face.
He responds by tapping his phone and putting the device on speaker.
I crowd around Dare, spying on the phone screen.