Free Drug Lord: A Bad Boy Baby Romance by Alyse Zaftig Page B

didn’t seem to be very experienced at it. He was only washing part of me.
    “Be careful,” I warned. “You might get wet.”
    He put the loofah down at the side. He took off his clothes as if they were rags and not ultra-expensive custom-made Savile Row couture.
    “Not a problem,” he said smugly.
    He climbed into the tub and reached for me. I slid into his arms in the soapy water and kissed him lightly.
    He didn’t seem to be satisfied by the light brush of our lips. His hand was in my wet hair holding me in place as he ravished my mouth.
    With a groan, he ripped our mouths apart.
    “We don’t have time for this. I promise, we’ll have more time in the jet.”
    He bit the side of my neck savagely, and my body jerked against his as I moaned in pleasure.
    He put soap on his hand and headed straight between my thighs, delving inside of me.
    I screamed as he quickly stimulated me into an orgasm that I didn’t expect. My back arched backward and my head tilted back as I panted hard.
    While I regained sanity, he briskly rubbed the rest of my body with the loofah.
    “Clean. I scheduled take-off for an hour from now.”
    “You realize that my hair is an absolute mess right now? Do you have any idea how long it takes to dry?”
    “We’ll just wrap it up. No problem.”
    He had all the answers. He turned on the shower attachment and rinsed both of us off.
    I climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself up in one of the fluffy towels. He dried off and then tied his towel around his waist, snagging his clothes before going back into the bedroom. I dug around for the hairdryer and stared at it hopelessly. If we were taking off so soon, I didn’t really have time to properly blow-dry my hair.
    I did the best I could in a few minutes, then I tied it up in a simple bun. I was embarrassed to do such a sloppy job, but he was rushing me, and I still had to pack up.
    I went back into the bedroom, where there was a red dress waiting on the bed with a scarf sitting next to it.
    “I already packed for you. Get dressed.”
    I looked at the suitcases waiting next to the door.
    I didn’t know if I liked how bossy he was, but I supposed that he was used to being in charge. He worked very fast. I’d told him that I wanted to go home right before we…well…eventually ended up going to sleep. And here he was, with my things already packed and a jet ready to go.
    I put on my dress and tied the scarf around my hair.
    “Did you pack my makeup bag?”
    “The silver one? Yes.”
    “But I need to put on makeup! I can’t go out in public like this.” My mother would faint if I went outside with my face bare. When I turned 12, she had given me a full makeup kit from MAC and told me never to come downstairs without makeup on again.
    He quickly crossed the room and bent me backwards as he kissed me so hard that I nearly fell over.
    “You look luscious,” he told me. “Totally perfect. We need to get on the plane.”
    Then his hand was in mine and he was opening the door. Someone else must be getting our suitcases to the plane.
    We walked out to his car, where his driver was idling.
    “Ready, sir?” he asked in Spanish.
    “Ready.”
    He kept his hand in mine as we drove through the empty streets of Quito. It was hushed and quiet at this hour, not the noisy mass of humanity that it normally was.
    I was still half asleep when the car stopped at the private hangar of the new Quito airport.
    He pulled me gently into the plane. Breakfast was waiting, and I looked out the window, unable to see any Ecuadorian officials trying to prevent us from taking off this time. I was grateful that I wouldn’t be arrested and handcuffed again.
    I wasn’t very hungry. I reached gratefully for the steaming mug of good Ecuadorian coffee and drained it.
    “Strap yourself in,” he said.
    I might not like taking orders normally, but it was definitely helpful when my brain was this foggy. It was too early in the morning for me to function normally. At this