She came quick and hard, her legs gripping around my head and holding on tight while she pulsed beneath my lips and tongue.
“Dios mio,” she swore as she continued to writhe, breathless and panting. Eventually her legs loosened and I pulled away. She lifted her head up, her eyes dazed, and looked at me. “Wow. Just wow. If that was the main course, what’s for desert?”
I grinned at her and opened my robe, my dick like a thick piece of steel. I stroked it once. “This. Served any way you want.”
She bit her lip and leaned forward to grab my robe, pulling me down on top of her.
It was a long time before room service could take the tray away.
***
Finally we decided to get a move on things. I got her in a cab and she was off to her apartment to pack up some of her stuff. I would have gone with her to watch over her but while she was gone I wanted to go get a new rental car.
I dropped off the old one and picked up a black mustang convertible at a new rental agency. It was the sexiest thing they had and I knew how to drive them well, even if they weren’t all that practical for the area. But in terms of a getaway car, it worked. After she had told me everything about her family, I had a clearer picture of what I was up against.
While I drove the mustang back to the hotel, I had time to think. Her father had been involved in one of the cartels long ago. He was killed. Her mother was after. Then her sisters. Her, her twin and her brother were all that remained. I needed to find out more about her sisters, when they had died and how. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it but it was crucial to understanding this. They ways they died could tell you a lot about who was doing the killing. From what it sounded like, the deaths of her parents were a pretty rushed, amateur job. Anyone can storm a house in the night and shoot a woman in bed. That doesn’t take any skill at all.
It just didn’t make any sense to keep going at someone’s family. Unless, of course, there was more to it. I was sure there was. Either Alana or one of her siblings was still involved in something and hanging with the wrong crowd.
Her brother was the obvious choice, being he was involved with drugs in some way. But so was everyone. Was her brother part of the same network that her father had been? If so, why would they still bother going after the children?
Unless Alana did something, even if she didn’t realize it, or knew something she wasn’t supposed to. Though she’d been open last night, she was still playing her cards pretty close to her chest. I had more questions for her but now that it was out in the open that people could be after her, now that she had admitted that her accident might have not been an accident at all, I was confident we would get to the bottom of things, especially now that she would be staying with me.
As soon as I gave the car to the valet, I went up to the room and started rearranging things for her arrival. It was a weird feeling knowing I’d be sharing my space with a woman. Not only on the intimacy level, but because I wasn’t sure how much of “Derek” I could show her. She only knew Derrin and parts of me were hard to hide.
For one, I knew she was a bit suspicious at the way I woke up the other day. I couldn’t help it. My sleep was usually so shallow, except when I was dreaming about Carmen, that instincts always took over. I could be up and ready to shoot or run within seconds.
Obviously I was going to pass it off as military training if it ever came up. But she would want to know how else I was going to protect her and that’s where the guns came in. Time to confess to her that I had a bit of a gun fetish. I didn’t need to hide that anymore.
I opened the door to the closet and lifted the bottom slab of it. I had pried it off when I first checked in and hid all my guns and weaponry in the hollow base. With the bottom back in place, it looked like an empty closet.
I decided to still hide them there – you never knew what the maids were going to think if they stumbled across them – but would give Alana a little show of them both. It sounded like she could handle it. If I were her, I would have invested in a gun a long time ago.
As for the silencers, the Ace bandages that kept the guns tucked to my waist, the knives, the rope, the CF explosives, the tracking devices, the GHB capsules, the duct tape, blindfolds, and handcuffs – well I wasn’t sure if she would buy it if I told her I was into some pretty kinky stuff.
I took out everything but the guns, a four-inch silencer for my .22, and the Ace bandage, and carefully placed them in a small zip bag, and brought them into the washroom. With a small motorized saw I always had with me, I cut away the bottom of the cabinet underneath the sink and stuck them in there. I placed the bottom over top of it and then rearranged towels and extra rolls of toilet paper onto so it wouldn’t attract any attention. I cut clean and any leftover sawdust was cleaned up and flushed away but even so I had to be meticulous. Guns I could explain. Everything else took me to a psychopathic level.