Finding Amber (Book 5) Jacobs Broken Mercenaries

chapter 14

Amber

I guess this counts as my third rescue or fourth? I think I’m losing count. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like the cabin falling off a cliff or a pack of Rabid super-sized dogs to pop out of the closet. So far, every time we enter a world, something bad happens, and it’s eerie when things go right.
Slowly, I walk down the hallway in search of Estevan. It’s funny how enclosed walls feel after so much time in open space. I spread my arms, brushing my fingertips against either wall beside me as I make my way to the last room. 
“Oh, my god. Is that what I think it is?” I ask optimistically. 
Estevan’s back is facing me. His thick arms are folded across his chest with his brows drawn, looking like some kind of villain. It’s beyond sexy. 
“A map giving us a direct root out of here? Yeah, it’s what you think it is.”
A feeling of dread pokes at my subconscious. That’s something I’m not going to analyze right now. A straight shot home should fill me with relief, but I’m feel nothing close to that.
“What’s wrong?”
I look up at Estevan, who’s studying me like a book. He checks me over for what? Injuries? When he sees nothing, he approaches me slowly with a look I can’t begin to decipher. For whatever reason, it gives me pause. When I back up a step, he stops all together, looking me over again.
Estevan turns his head sideways and squints at me.
“At sundown we’re getting out of here Amber… Why would that disappoint you?”
It doesn’t… does it? The way he’s looking at me is messing with my mind.
“Stop that!”
He laughs, and its foreign noise giving me gooseflesh. It doesn’t sound right on him.
“Stop what?”
Yes, Amber, what is he doing exactly? He saves me from trying to figure it out by turning away to rifle through the desk drawers.
“This is Mica’s cabin…” he states while throwing papers on top of the desk toward me. 
There’s the other shoe. I knew it couldn’t be that simple. I look over the papers. They’re files on random people. Within them is a file on me. I make use of his stupidly expensive looking shredder. 
“Do you think it’s safe to stay here?” I ask Estevan.  He’s still rifling through the drawers.
“Nowhere here is safe, and not one place is better than the other when it comes to safety... Every place has its risks.”
That’s the longest explanation I’ve ever gotten from him. Is he feeling alright?
“Ah, there we go.” He declares as he pulls a half full bottle of scotch from the desk and pours a glass. 
“I thought anything other than blood makes us sick?” I say, feeling a little ticked at the lie. 
“Alcohol is the exception.” He tells me while offering me the glass. I turn my nose up. I’ve never had a taste for alcohol, let alone something that smells that strongly. 
“It’s all yours.” I tell him, pushing it away with my hand. He empties the glass, looking at me over the rim. The room feels small with him in it. I curb the urge to fan myself from a sudden wave of heat. There’s some hidden secret in his eyes that makes me weary. 
“Have you ever done anything just to try it, Amber? Maybe done something forbidden because it felt good?”
I stand there like an idiot, catching flies with my mouth. I can’t even think. My libido is singing a tune in my head, drowning out any chance of an audible response. I’m feeling a myriad of emotions, starting with fear and ending with excitement. Somewhere in between is a rational behavior. 
Estevan throws back another shot, filling the glass to come around the desk in front of me. I swallow nervously as he swigs a mouth full but doesn’t swallow. Instead, he dips his finger in, wetting it with the scotch and leans into me, sliding his wet, scotch laced finger across my bottom lip.
My tongue reflectively sweeps across, soaking up the potent liquid.
“Good girl,” he mutters with his eyes focused on my mouth. I blush at the suggestive statement. Maybe I’m embarrassed he’s turned me on or ashamed that I like it. In my mind, I know it’s slightly degrading.
“How does it taste Amber?”
Inwardly grating at the way, he says my name; so seductively. I think about the flavor. 
“Strong, like whiskey.”
He scrutinizes my answer.
“Are you sure?”
Estevan takes another swig and inches closer, dipping his head. My lips part invitingly, and his curl up in the corners. I close my eyes, thinking he’s going to kiss me when I feel a rush of warm liquid trickle past my lips. I swallow, looking up at him.
“How about now?” He says low enough I can feel his voice rumble. My knees wobble, and I clench my thighs while shaking my head to try and form a thought. It’s hard to focus on just the taste with Estevan taking over all my senses.
“Buttery with a touch of spice.”
I’m more confident in my answer but less in my control. I can’t remember why this is a bad idea. His actions have me lost. He sets the short glass down and cups my face, tipping my head back to look into my eyes.