The Witness (Miami Private Security #4)

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Michael

“ I want to go through with Gunter’s plan.” Sabrina tossed the garment bag with the waitstaff uniform in it on the dark green velvet couch in our hotel suite’s sitting room. I closed the suite’s door and set down our bags. I’d known this was coming; there were clues: the determined set of her shoulders, the clenched jaw, and the stupid uniform.

“No,” I said calmly. This wasn’t up for negotiation. The plan was insane. Sabrina would never be bait as long as I had breath in my lungs.

I searched the suite for a distraction while I toed off my shoes. The room wasn’t large by fancy hotel standards, but it was clean and bright with tall windows. At first, I thought it was retro, but on second look, I knew the furniture was original art déco stuff. From the black lacquer desk to the gilt mirror with a single crack snaking across the corner. My eye caught on a small brass wall plaque that informed us this was Clark Gable’s preferred room at the hotel. Nice.

“I’m not asking,” she huffed, and I turned. Her fists were planted on her hips, shoulders pushed back—ready to fight.

“No,” I repeated.

“It’s my life that’s been hijacked. My mother that’s in hiding, and my restaurant that’s been vandalized.”

I winced and shook my head as a wave of guilt over not telling her about the incident at Viande hit. I should have known Smith had an ulterior motive for keeping the information from her. The master manipulator was hard at work.

“Do you see another option?” She stalked across the room to stand toe to toe with me. The determination rolled off her in waves.

“I’ll kill him.” My crossed arms formed a barricade between us. Distance would let me stay sane, keep me from carrying her away to some far-off corner of the world where she’d be safe. I’d always had overdeveloped protective instincts, but Sabrina had kicked them into overdrive. It wasn’t rational how much I cared about her.

“Sandoval?” She was incredulous.

He wouldn’t be the first man I killed who deserved to die.

“Yes.” I nodded once to punctuate my vow. She would not risk her life on my watch. I couldn’t even think about it without wanting to drag her back to Miami or off to Fiji.

“No!” She ground out the word from between clenched jaws.

I looked away from her and out the windows. I concentrated on the ocean and the old weatherbeaten lighthouse in the distance, racking my brain for an argument that would make her see reason.

Her small fist packed an impressive punch as she drove it into my upper arm, but I held my ground and grunted.

“If you kill him, then you inherit all my problems and whoever takes over his organization will come after you. Gunter is right. We need a bigger entity to contain his, his… evil.”

“I can handle the fallout and keep you safe.”

“Would you stop?” She stamped her foot on the thick carpet. “You’re not killing Sandoval. Unless you agree to help me and Gunter, I won’t identify Sandoval for you or anyone. I will not have another death on my conscience.” Her voice fell almost to a whisper on the last sentence.

“Sabrina.” Her name came out gentler than I’d intended. More plea than demand. She was ripping my guts out. I’d never survive watching her risk her life like this.

“God, men are stubborn.” She met my gaze, her defiant chin tipped up, her eyes swimming with a mix of emotions I couldn’t untangle. Frustration for sure, but there was something else. It was the same heat and longing that coursed through my veins—desire.

“I’m not being stubborn.” In two steps, I closed the small space between us. I slid my hands down her upper arms, enjoying her reaction. Goosebumps raced over her skin, and her breath hitched. “I’m protecting you.”

She shook her head but leaned into my body. I needed more than these fleeting touches. I needed to show her how much she had addled my brain the only way I could. Dipping my head, I brushed the softest of fleeting kisses over her lush lips. She was precious.

“Again.” Her arms around my neck, she dragged me back down so our lips met.

The kiss was achingly careful. We were unsure, sinking into an attraction that was unwise but tempting nonetheless. I gathered her close, holding her slight frame like spun sugar. She moaned; the sound raced through my veins, sending my blood surging. I reveled in the reality of her.

Gasping for breath, we finally broke apart.

“There has to be another way.” I held her pressed to my chest. Her hands clutched my shirtfront. Surely, she could hear my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer.

She stiffened and pushed back to look at my face. An ironic smile twisted her kiss-bruised lips. “I’m sure if there was, Smith would have figured it out by now. I’m willing to risk it, but only with you at my side. Protect me so I can be brave.” Her hand rested flat over my racing heart. It stuttered and nearly stopped at her words.

“Fuck, I hate this idea.” My hands practically shook as I cupped her jaw and angled her face to taste her once more. No part of me wanted to let her anywhere near Rafa Sandoval.

Our lips met in a fusion of shared desire. The kiss ranged from desperate to carnal. We devoured each other with tangled tongues and open mouths. Our hastily stolen breaths were ragged and rushed. Only my hold of her body remained gentle. I would protect her from every danger, even my desire.

“You are sure I can’t change your mind?” I feathered a kiss against her temple.

“I hate this plan too, but I love the idea of Sandoval rotting in a Cuban jail awaiting his execution while I go home to live my life.” Her eyes glittered with purpose.

I understood revenge and longing for freedom. Both were powerful motivation.

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. I started this. Now I will see it through, but not alone. Michael, I need your support.” She held my gaze, imploring me to bend to her will.

I sighed and with herculean effort silenced the voice in my head screaming for me to protect her, even from herself. The conflicting feelings her bravery stirred threw me off balance. Yet, I knew she wasn’t doing this alone. I’d be next to her. A hundred-foot-long crowbar couldn’t pry me away.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But if anything happens to you, I will kill him.” I clenched my jaw to keep back all the arguments I wanted to make for her staying as far from Sandoval as possible.

She threw her arms around my neck and dove into another deep kiss. Her mouth was everywhere, my lips, my throat. Playful nips that unlocked my jaw, followed by deep probing kisses. She threw her whole self into the embrace. And I gave in, meeting her thrust for thrust and touch for touch. Her body writhed against mine, and my cock strained against the zipper of my suit pants.

Fuck. Her kiss was like a siren song.

When our lips broke apart, she stepped away. The foot of space she put between us could have been a mile. Her eyes widened in shock. She placed a hand over her tantalizing mouth as she spun, giving me her back.

“Sabrina?” I rubbed a hand down my face and tried to rein in my desire. It was useless.

“Oh. My. God. I cannot believe I did that. We did that. I’m so—”

I knew the next word out of her would be sorry, and I didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing to be sorry about. No, this was old school, hot and heavy lust. And I’d never apologize for wanting her.

“You can’t kiss me like that and walk away.” I pulled her back to me, spinning her like we were on the dance floor. She crashed into my chest and tipped her head back to look up at me.

“This is a bad idea.” Her fingers trailed up my shirtfront, and she popped open the buttons one by one. My pecs and abs flexed in response to her delicate touch.

“Probably.” And I didn’t care. Since the night I scooped her up from the seawall behind the Smith Agency, the attraction had been growing between us. Fighting it wouldn’t work. We both wanted this. Hell, I’d almost kissed her in the break room yesterday. We were a ticking time bomb, ready to go off. And it wasn’t like either of us was a na?ve kid. The beauty of being in your forties, you gave way fewer fucks about what other people thought—even your boss.

I slid my hand down her back, cradling her gorgeous ass. She nipped one of my nipples, and heat raced down my spine. Her hot mouth pressed kisses along the lines of my tattoos. My cock was fully hard and throbbing.

“Damn, I want you.” Forget want. I fucking needed her.

I guided her back a few steps until the back of her knees bumped the large wingback chair across from the couch. She gasped when I pressed her down to sit. I tipped her chin up to see her face. Her lips were puffy from our kisses and her pupils so wide the black centers nearly swallowed the green of her iris.

“Michael? What are you doing?” She licked her lips, and I groaned.

“I’m going to worship you.” I shrugged out of my jacket and shirt. On my knees before her, I slid my hand up her legs, pushing her hem higher and higher. Her creamy thighs parted slightly. I wanted to shove them apart but took a breath and held back for a precious moment to ask before I took. “If you’ll allow me to?”

“Oh God. Why do I think you’re going to be good at this?” She gripped the arms of the oversized chair, braced for anything I might do. And I was going to do it all.

“Bad boys have a well-earned reputation.” I settled my hands on her hips and pulled her forward to the edge of the seat. Her skirt slid up to expose her white satin panties. I curled a finger under the fabric. The heat of her seared my knuckles.

“Yeah, they do.” She was breathless. It was music to my ears.

“Is that yes, please eat my pussy, Michael?” I rubbed my five o’clock shadow over the delicate skin on the inside of her bent knee.