switching between the marijuana plants and my face, another venture I’ve taken on for personal reasons. “That’s a lot of weed, Alejandro.”
A bark of laughter bubbles out and I throw my arm across her shoulders, tucking her into my side while we turn to fully face the field. She’s a breath of fresh air, and I love how her mind works. “That’s your first observation?”
“It is a lot.”
“Have you smoked before, beautiful?”
Her grin is cheeky. “Maybe.”
“Bad girl.” I try to make my expression stern while looking down at her, but the thought of Sol high, happy, and hungry is amusing. It also makes me wonder who popped that cherry under her father’s tight grip. “With whom?”
“Laura bought it from some guy she knows out in—”
“Enough said.” This shouldn’t surprise me either.
The smile drops and her head tilts to the side. “Why did your tone just change? You don’t like her?”
“I’m not a fan of anyone who hurts my girl.”
“She doesn’t mean to. Not really.”
“And yet, Laura continues to put you in dangerous predicaments. I know all about her and Signio, as does most of the country.” Shame flits across her expression before she schools her features into that monotone look that she’s perfected over the years. It pisses me off to watch her shoulders square and the way she takes in a deep inhale and then lets it out slowly; she’s going to excuse their behavior. “Don’t,” I grit out while stepping back and holding a hand up. “If you care about my sanity and their safety, just don’t.”
“Alejandro, they’ve known each other a long time and—”
“She owes you more loyalty than this, Solimar. Laura is selfish and manipulative.”
“Don’t hurt her.” Her, not both and certainly not him.
The sudden sound of a motor catches my attention, and I peck her lips once in answer. It’s not a promise or denial; I refuse to lie when I’d kill anyone who makes her so much as shed a tear. Whoever is driving, though, is getting closer, and no one sees her like this but me so I step back. That, and my men know better than to interrupt unless it’s dire—life or death.
“Please head inside and wait for me there.”
“Is something wrong?” In the blink of an eye, she’s gone from blissful to worried to near frantic, her face growing pale while she begins to wring her hands. “Do you think Dad knows I’m here?”
“No one will harm you, Preciosa. Just give me a few minutes.”
“Okay.” I can see on her face the need for answers but I appreciate the trust to handle it, and before she turns to head back inside, I pull her back against me with a hand on her nape. My grip is tight, and I angle her head back to take those sweet lips in a harsh and quick kiss that leaves her dazed when I pull back.
“Thank you, pretty girl. I’ll be inside soon.” No sooner did she close the door than a familiar jeep pulls up and out jumps my brother and Daniel. A sinking feeling overtakes me, and I march across, grabbing Daniel by the neck before either utter a single syllable. “Why are you two here? The fuck is going on?”
Emiliano places a hand on my shoulder, but that only causes my grip to tighten and for my friend’s face to redden. “Let him go, Alejandro. We need to talk.”
“Then spit it out. Why are you here?”
“Because she’s gone. Lourdes disappeared last night.”
25
HIS SCENT IS deliciously male, and it surrounds me—consumes me—while his muscular frame overpowers mine. He’s strong. Attentive to my every sound while forcing me to face the night’s sky; I can feel the way the muscles of his abdomen flex against my back. Feel the vibrations of a low rumble as it builds in his chest and then vibrates against my neck.
He’s kissing the area just below the lobe, just a soft caress across my skin, but I feel it from the tip of my toes to the very last strand of hair on my head.
I shouldn’t let him control me so easily, but my body isn’t complying with rationality. It’s boycotting my every instinct to protect myself and instead, leans back. Moves us closer so I can let his touch burn me.
Consequences be damned.
His hands skim down my thighs, bunching up my dress until he reaches the waistband of my panties. One tug and they rip, the thin lace of my thong slipping down to my mid-thigh. I’m exposed