Then he got creative.
Chapter Nineteen
Ibuprofen and Midol
Sadie
“Preciosa, wake up.”
My eyes opened and I saw Hector sitting on the side of the bed. He had on jeans and a tight-fitting, navy t-shirt and he looked awake and alert.
I glanced at him through slitted eyes.
He had worked last night, late, then he’d vigorously shown his appreciation for my tattoo just like he said he would.
And, really, how bizarre was that? It was my tattoo but apparently Hector was more excited about it than I was, as in loads more in a macho-man, badass, f**k me until I screamed his name type of way, of course.
Though, I didn’t scream his name when he made me come but I gasped it and I did this loud.
Nevertheless, he hadn’t tied one on last night, mixing margaritas with Fat Tires and tequila shots. He was likely not hungover like I knew I was at that very moment. He was not having a life filled with daily multiple-traumas. And lastly, he didn’t have an opening at his gallery tomorrow night.
So he could be awake and alert on a Sunday morning.
I was hungover. I felt it in my stomach and my head, so I was going to sleep.
To communicate all of that, I mumbled, “Sleep.” Then turned and burrowed into the pillows.
Once I did this, the covers were pulled down and I made a peeved noise but he ignored this. His hands went to my waist, he twisted me, pulling me up and across his lap, settling me there and his arms came around me.
I decided to ignore his latest smooth move and shoved my face in his neck, burrowing into his heat and hoping he’d get the message.
“Sadie, look at me,” he murmured and the way he did made my heart squeeze painfully.
I took a deep breath wondering what was happening now, pulled my face from his neck and looked at him.
“Jimmy’s downstairs,” he told me.
I let out the breath.
That was it?
Another visitor?
Boy, Hector was a popular guy.
“Jimmy?” I asked.
“Detective Marker.”
My body went tight.
Hector’s hand went to my neck and slid up into my hair.
“Harvey Balducci was murdered last night.”
All of a sudden, I felt even sicker.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.