Stolen By The Queen: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 5

For a moment, the entire party fell away as Ryan felt Camila's full, soft lips ram against his hard, closed mouth with something akin to eager desperation. It took every fiber of his fifteen-year training to resist the soft curves of her body, the sweet taste of her mouth, as she tried to pry his open.

"What are you doing?" Ryan growled the words against her lips, his hand flexing in warning at her back.

"Just trust me." And God help him, she moved those damn lips to his neck, the skin just under his jaw, and he didn't even try to hide the visceral groan the movement drew from him.

"Damn, you've got it bad, Camila." Camila's silky dark head whipped back aground to face Serena her lips forming into a sultry smile. "Where did you two meet?"

"Found him at a bar just yesterday," Camila tucked her back to his front, her soft hair grazing his chin. Ryan gripped her hips, restraining her from leaning back fully against him, trying to regain some control of the situation. "Lucky me, no?"

But he knew in his gut that this behavior was so unlike every other signal Camila had thrown his way over the past twenty-four hours. Her DEA background file described her as elusive, reserved, and likely cooperative. Certainly not as a carefree seductress. Clearly she'd spotted someone or something that had thrown her off.

"Well you two lovebirds have fun now, okay?" Selena angled her head and Ryan caught something keen in her eyes. A peek past the fun-seeking party girl she'd been just moments earlier. "If you two decide you want to share...come find me." She winked before twirling off, quickly draping herself over a tall, lanky man with slicked back hair and fully tattooed arms.

"What in the fuck, Camila, was that?"

"Not now." Camila wrapped his calloused hand in hers, every touch of her skin now torture after getting a tease of what she'd truly feel like up against him. "Follow me."

Ryan tried not to do his usual knee-jerk scan of every corner of the space, forcing himself to act like he was truly there to party. He let Camila lead him down into the main sunken living room, determined to keep his eyes on the back of her head and not let them slip any lower. Again, he'd has his fair share of fun with female informants in the past but none had gotten under his skin this quick. And Camila hardly seemed effected. More desperate than anything.

"Wait, hold up!" A man seated a plush white couch shaped like the letter 'S' put a beefy palm up in the air, one woman seated on his lap and two others on either side of him. He removed the cigar from his mouth, brusquely tossing the woman from his legs. She let out a desperate little yelp and scrambled over onto the couch, a front marring her made-up face. "Quien es este gringo?*" (*Who is this gringo?)

Ryan knew enough Spanish to pick up on that quick but he didn't allow himself to react. He didn't need anyone knowing he spoke decent Spanish. Instead he downed the rest of his drink and swiped another from a floating tray, snagging a flute of sparkling wine for Camila.

"Drink." He handed it to her, a forced smile on his face.

"Pace yourself. We shouldn't get drunk." She took the delicate champagne-style flute from his hand, eyeing his drink.

"If you think that two whiskeys is going to get me drunk, then you don't know much about the military."

"I don't know anything about the military, remember?" She fluttered her lashes at him before adding more seriously, "But I do know about men. American, Mexican, military, cartel—doesn't matter—they all over-estimate themselves."

Ryan scoffed, tossing back a health gulp. "Eager to prove you wrong."

"Gringo! Yeah, you. Come here."