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“You… you stole the fucking diamonds?” he stammers.
I nod quickly. “You’re wetting the carpet, you know,” I murmur as I point to the floor as a distraction.
He puts his hands on his naked hips. “You are telling me that you stole millions of dollars worth of diamonds and got off the ship straight-faced, and now they are in a safety deposit box.” He points to the floor. “Here? In Bogota?”
“Uh-huh,” I whisper.
A trace of a smirk crosses his face and he shakes his head. “Just when I think you can’t possibly shock me any more than you already have.”
A smirk crosses my face, matching his.
“Then you go and get all sexier and even more shocking on me.” He rushes to me and I squeal in laughter. He throws me over his shoulder and slaps my behind hard.
“Put me down,” I yell. “Put me down.”
He turns the shower to freezing cold and I kick to try and get away.
“You…” He slides me down his thick body. “Have been a very bad girl and you need to be punished.”
The water is freezing and I laugh out loud as he pins me up against the wall with his body.
“Who’s going to punish me?” I breathe as I smile up at him.
“I am.”
* * *
“Can I have the bacon and eggs, please?” I ask the waitress.
“I will have the same thanks,” Stace adds.
“Oh, and two coffees, please.” I smile.
“Is that all?” she asks as she scribbles on her notepad.
“Yes, thanks.”
We are sitting in a café having breakfast. I had to come out alone this morning and buy Stace new clothes. His high visibility work wear was like a beacon and not something one would wear if trying to blend in. I got us both a few outfits and toiletries. I also picked up wig for me, and a pair of sunglasses for both of us.
I’m wearing a little pink dress with spaghetti straps that hangs just above my knees while the blonde wig sits below my shoulders. I have a pink cap on. I kind of look like a Spice Girl, to be honest. Stace is harder to disguise. How do you hide a giant made of pure, hard-ass muscle? His tattoos are easily distinguishable so I have him wearing a long-sleeved, cotton, white shirt, and a cap to cover his hair.
He picks up my sunglasses from the table and puts them on then looks around. “These are better than mine,” he mutters.
I frown, pick up his glasses, and put them on. “Why? What’s wrong with these?” Oh, everything does seem a little blue. I glance around at our surroundings. Mine are better than his, he’s right.
“I just like these better,” he tells me.
I hold my hand out to him. “Don’t, you are going to stretch them.”
He looks over the top of the glasses at me. “The only thing I’m going to stretch are your orifices.”
I smirk and stare at him as my brain misfires. Does he have any idea how hot he is with this sexual innuendo he just casually throws into our conversation? Stretching my orifices. How does he even think of this shit? But he is onto something… I have been stretched to the hilt, and then some. I turn to see the waitress standing next to our table with the coffees. She doesn’t know where to look, and it’s obvious she heard what he just said.
I laugh and my eyes flicker to Stace who has dropped his head in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, please excuse my friend. He’s an idiot.” I fake a smile.
Her eyes widen and with shaky hands she places the coffee’s down on the table then scurries out to the kitchen, no doubt to tell her work friends about the hot, dirty talker at table nine.
