I laughed and shifted my weight. “We’ll see about that.”
Ellie straightened up and rolled her eyes. “Do you think no one will look for me?”
“No one knows about this place,” I assured her. She crossed her arms and shook her head. I could feel how much she hated me. The tip of my dick ached, wanting in her pussy. I bet she was tight. I let my eyes run down her body. I wondered how long she would hold onto the hatred. I could make her want me; I was sure of it.
Fuck. I wanted her already.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my house,” I said and motioned for her to step in front of me. I let out a breath and shifted my thoughts from what her cunt felt like to the mess I was in. My hard-on was gone by the time we got to the car. “Don’t think about running,” I said and opened the door for her.
Ellie got in and laughed. “I’m not stupid,” she said. “I can see how well guarded and armed you are.”
I closed her door and hurried around the car. “You’re a cop. You might—”
“Please,” she said and rolled her eyes again. “I’m a city police officer, not an international spy. I’m not taking my chances against the six men with AK47s on the ground and the two on the roof.”
I couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Even I hadn’t seen the two men on the roof, and I knew they were there.
“Bueno,” I said and tightened my grip on the wheel. “Now shut up and be quiet.” I fired up the engine and drove back to my house.
Chapter 8: Ellie
I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I was scared shitless, completely terrified, but I’d be damned if I acted like it. Now wasn’t the time to panic. Freaking the fuck out wasn’t going to help me in any way.
I messed up.
There. I admitted it to myself. I shouldn’t have approached a suspect alone. I should have called for backup then went outside. I sighed and looked out the window. I was sitting in a new Porsche driving fast through Mexico, next to a very handsome stranger.
Make that a very handsome, dangerous stranger.
I knew Alejandro Calaveras was young and attractive. I just didn’t know he was this attractive. He had tan skin with tattoos on his arms, mostly covered from the long sleeves of his shirt. His dark hair was tousled and messy around his face. His dark eyes were outlined in thick lashes, and his well-defined cheekbones gave him a sultry, almost pouty look.
He could easily play the rugged bad boy your mother never wanted you to meet. I turned, looking him over. Put a suit on him and he could be the billionaire CEO of a Fortune 500 company as well. He could be anything and look good doing it.
That made him all the more dangerous.
He was fit but not obnoxiously muscular. And he smelled good. Dammit. I turned away. Alejandro might not have been the one to physically tase me and throw me in the back of a trailer full of chickens, but he was responsible for my kidnapping.
I didn’t want to find him attractive. But I did, and my body reacted to him on its own accord. I felt a tingle when our eyes met, and I had the urge to lick my lips and fuck him with my eyes. He was a curious thing, apologizing for the way I was manhandled and offering me water. Was he buttering me up and planning on torturing me later?
I knew he was looking at my body. I caught him twice. His brown eyes widened as they trailed up and down my torso. I thought I saw a growing bulge in his pants when he stood. Did I turn him on? There was no way. I was dirty and smelled like chickens. Maybe holding me captive was his thing. Knowing he owned me, that I had to listen to him to live.
My head bobbed down. I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept since I’d been taken, and having that level of constant terror flow through me for hours was tiring. I wanted to believe Alejandro’s words, that if I listened, if I obeyed him, I would be safe.
*
The car lurched to a stop in front of cast iron gates. I wrapped my arms around myself as Alejandro drove through, headlights illuminating a winding brick drive.
The house at the top of the hill was huge. It was tan in color, with balconies along the second story and a red clay roof. It looked like a freaking luxury resort. The lawn was professionally landscaped, and underground sprinklers were misting the grass.
Alejandro opened the garage and pulled in. There were four cars and a motorcycle in here. Every thing was expensive and shining. He cut the engine and turned to me.
“You can get out,” he said. His voice was commanding, but he seemed unsure of himself. And I knew he’d been surprised to see me in that closet, like it was the last thing he’d expected. Maybe he really hadn’t wanted his men to take me. It was a mess for him. That I was sure of.