Page 30 of Colombian Chemistry

There wasn’t much I wanted in this life. A place to sleep. No one to bother me and to just be left alone. But never in my existence had I experienced a desire so deep as the one to reach up and pull her mouth down to mine. To feel her lips press against mine. Taste her tongue. Kiss her so hard that she’d be unable to breathe.

Don’t kiss her. Don’t open that door. Your life is too dangerous for her.

I fought the urge to kiss her as hard as I’d fought countless enemies. Hell, all the crazy missions I’d been on were easy compared to the battle waging inside of me. Her eyes drifted to my lips before they lifted back up to mine. We stared at each other for a few seconds too long before that soft blush swept across her face again. She quickly rolled over and laid stiff as a board at my side.

“Uh, sorry. You’re, uh, not a hugger. I forgot.”

I stared up at the thatched ceiling, trying to find my words—my breath.

“It’s fine,” I mumbled.

It was more than fine. It had been an exquisite delight. And now that I’d felt the warmth of her embrace, the need to keep her safe exploded into an unquenchable desire. I wouldn’t let anyone harm her.

No one. Not ever.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Irene

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I’d barely slept a wink last night. Not because I was scared—it was impossible to feel scared with Marcus at my side—but because I’d almost slipped and kissed him.

Like an idiot, I’d gone and tossed myself on top of him, probably making him so damn uncomfortable. Then when I let go and found my lips just inches from his face, I’d almost gone and laid a big kiss on him. Me. I’d almost kissed a near stranger. Normally I was a kiss-on-the-third-date kinda girl. Shoving my tongue down the throat of a man I barely knew wasn’t something I’d ever do. And yet visions of passionate kisses with Marcus had nearly forced my lips straight onto his last night. Luckily, I’d come to my senses before I’d gone and planted one on him... getting all handsy like he’d warned me not to.

But could I blame myself? I mean, lying in bed next to the most spectacular male specimen I’d ever met wasn’t exactly an easy feat. Especially since I hadn’t had sex in almost two years. Yikes. I hadn’t even realized it’d been that long until last night. I’d gone so long without it, being focused on my studies, I’d stopped thinking about it entirely. Like being so hungry you stop being hungry anymore. Not to mention, the sex I’d had before wasn’t exactly the kind of sex I’d been envisioning having with Marcus. What I envisioned with Marcus was a gourmet five-course meal I couldn’t wait to devour, and what I’d experienced before was like a McDonald’s cheeseburger I’d sooner starve than eat.

After meeting Marcus, my appetite for sex came roaring back with a vengeance. And lying next to him last night? I was ready to rip off my clothes and toss myself at him for just one night of wild, passionate sex. The kind I saw in the movies but never got lucky enough to have myself. I’d dated missionary-style guys. Respectful. Caring. Gentle.

I bet Marcus was anything but, and it only got my hunger churning even more.

“Good news, bad news,” he said as he came back into the room where I waited for him.

I forced all the dirty thoughts of being pinned beneath his sweaty body out of my mind and said, “And that means?”

“Bad news... no vehicle.”

Great. More walking. Just what my throbbing feet need.

“So, we have to keep hiking? I don’t know how much more I can go in these shoes.”

His eyes lit up with a flicker of excitement. “Good news. I found us a ride.”

“You did? That’s amazing!” I bounced on the bed then stopped. “But I thought you said they didn’t have a car. I’m confused.”

He picked up his bag from the foot of the bed and tossed it over his shoulder. “No, they don’t have a car here, but about fifteen miles east of us, they say there is a guy there with a car we can hire.”

“So, then we have to walk fifteen miles today? Ugh!”

“That’s the good news! I got us a lift. No walking.”

I furrowed my brow. “But there isn’t a car.”

A smile stretched across his face. “Follow me.”

Unsure what had Marcus so uncharacteristically excited, I followed him out of the hut we’d stayed in last night. The little village looked so beautiful today in the morning sunlight, and for a moment, I decided Marcus was right. I could live here. No traffic. No news. No nothing. Just honest, hardworking people living their lives in this tiny little piece of pure heaven.

A woman greeted us as we passed by, and I mimicked Marcus’s greeting he offered back. I spoke just a tiny bit of Spanish, having focused on French instead, and now being stranded in Colombia, I highly regretted it. Despite the fact Marcus told the cartel guys yesterday he didn’t speak the language, it turned out he was completely fluent in it. As well as French, I’d found out yesterday when I’d cursed at him in the language I thought he wouldn’t understand. Turns out highly trained secret operatives knew a lot of languages. Marcus had informed me he spoke eight.