Free Faster (Stark Ink, #3) by Dahlia West Page A

Ava.”
    “Thank God,” she whispered back. 
    He laughed. “Maybe Shooter’s wrong. Maybe you have too much sass, muñeca.”
    “You keep saying that: muñeca—what does it mean?”
    “Wrist.”
    Ava wrinkled her nose. “Not very sexy.”
    “Really? Are you sure?” Despite his declaration just seconds ago, he took hold of her wrist and turned it over until the soft underside was exposed. He brought it to his lips and pressed them to her skin. “Seems sexy to me.” His hot breath caressed her and she shivered in spite of herself.
    She was used to taking charge. Her swagger and confidence usually overwhelmed her intended targets, but this guy was different. Emilio wasn’t intimidated, didn’t count himself blessed that she would bother with him. He looked at her as though he’d woken up this morning knowing she’d seek him out, like he’d been waiting for her all day.
    Ava had never met any guys like that, for sure. “How old are you ?” she prompted.
    Cocky. He was far too cocky.
    He kissed her wrist again and then, reluctantly, dragged his lips away as though it pained him to have to stop. “Twenty-two.”
    Ava wrinkled her nose and pulled her arm back. “Oh. Well, forget it then.” She turned and waved him away dismissively as she stepped toward the door. “Too old,” she called back.
    “Old? Who’re you calling old?” he demanded.
    She felt his hands on her hips and suddenly she was dragged backward, against him. She giggled. “Guess your little blue pills are working,” she declared.
    Emilio’s hands traveled up and tugged gently at the hem of her shirt. They slipped inside and his fingers splayed across her bare belly. It fluttered at his touch. His lips brushed her ear. “You got a mouth on you, muñeca.”
    She leaned against him and closed her eyes. “Really?”
    “Yes.”
    His thumbnail scraped the fabric of her bra. Just a tease.
    Ava bit her lip. “I’ve never used it before.” Her confession surprised herself and she held her breath, waiting.
    He groaned. “Dios,” he replied in a gravelly voice. “Please, God, tell me you’re not a virgin.” His mouth pressed harder against the side of her head. “I’m not strong enough to walk away, muñeca,” he whispered. “I’m a good guy, but I’m no saint.”
    Ava tensed. “I’m not a virgin,” she replied reluctantly. She didn’t really want to think about Clint just now.
    Emilio didn’t respond, though. His hands stopped moving.
    She turned her head to catch a glimpse of him. “Emilio?”
    He was quiet, too quiet. Ava was about to prod him when he said, “Not actually sure how I feel about that.”
    Fucking Clint, Ava thought. She wished he’d just fade away completely.
    She twisted out of Emilio’s grip and tugged her shirt back down angrily. Before she could leave, though, he caught her elbow and turned her back toward him. She stood for a moment, under the harsh florescent lights, looking up at him. He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, frowning as he did so. “Seems like maybe you’re not sure, either.”
    Ava pursed her lips. “Doesn’t matter. He’s done. There were plenty after him and there’ll be plenty more.”
    It wasn’t the whole truth. She’d made out with plenty of guys, mostly after races, standing around the bonfires. She’d screwed one of them, taken him to the back seat of his muscle car and straddled him until he came. She’d walked away frustrated and pissed off and not really knowing why.
    She tried to twist out of Emilio’s arms but he held her firmly. Her heart skipped a beat as he leaned down slowly. His lips touched hers, soft, not urgent this time. She opened her mouth, but he didn’t take the invitation. The kiss was slow, almost chaste, and nothing they’d said or done up until now had made her blush as deeply as she was right at this moment.
    Emilio pulled back. His hands slid away from her face. His cocky grin was gone. Embarrassed, she almost wished it was there.