Author's Note: I'm actually proud of this chapter. It's close to being just as long as the last two chapters combined. grins And Sands has a bigger part. That makes me happy.
There is a warning with this one though. There's a bit of what may be 'R' rated physical contact at the end. As I was writing, I found that it was impossible to separate Tessa's train of thought from her actions, and if I cut parts out, I'd loose some of that. I did manage to keep things as vague as I could, which was rather vague indeed. I'll be sending a more complete chapter out later to those of you who have requested it.
For your information, anything enclosed in are people talking in Spanish, but I didn't want to have to write it out in Spanish, and then translate it.
Author's thanks at end.
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Three weeks later, Tess was wandering the streets of Culíacan, ostensibly shopping, but not for anything that a normal citizen could buy. During her months here before the coup, she'd made several "friends" who dealt in the black market. Her upbringing had made her wary of authority, but not at all afraid to bend – or break – the rules when she needed to. And since Carlos had informed her that he planned on leaving Culíacan for the mountains by the end of the week, she wanted to stock up on supplies while she could. Finding and obtaining medical supplies without notice was hard enough without doing it in a town that she had no contacts in.
Speaking of contacts . . . she thought, trying very hard to appear as if she weren't expecting anything to happen. It was hard, because she'd received an e-mail that had told her to expect 'company' on her next jaunt into the city. It'd unnerved her, simply because the wording of the short message hadn't sounded like something Sands would send out. She knew that there were other people working this operation – people working under Sands since he was the mastermind and didn't have time to attend to every detail – but she liked to think that she at least was one detail he wanted to handle himself. But then again, perhaps she'd been wrong. It'd been known to happen.
[How much longer is this going to take, Doc? Some of us don't have all day to be running around the city.]
And if they have to go back, then apparently none of us have all day to be running around.
Tessa snorted softly. She hadn't wanted to be accompanied by bodyguards in the first place. They'd only make her task more difficult in the end, but Carlos had been insistent. She needed protection, and Neva had seconded that decision. Tess suspected that Neva's concern had more to do with keeping an eye on her to make sure she behaved rather than out of any concern for her safety, but she'd known when to stop protesting. In a civil tone, she replied, [I have two more stops to make. Don't pressure me to hurry, or I'll make mistakes, and that will make Carlos very unhappy.] She purposely used her cousin's first name to reassert her authority over this little group, even though she felt like she didn't have any at all. They were hired, she was family, and she wanted them to be aware of that. She personally wanted to forget.
The guards behind her shifted uncomfortably, not liking her refusal to give way to their counsel. Tess knew what they were thinking – they were loyal, and she was on probation – but tried not to think about it.
Think about what? The fact that this is a test? That no matter how much Carlos protests that he trusts you without question, that if you don't come back without obtaining the needed supplies without breaking all needed secrecy, then you can kiss your life good-bye?
It was true. She knew it was. If she proved to be false, inept, or indiscrete, then she'd be kept outside Culíacan until her fate was decided. If she succeeded in this, then she'd be allowed to go with Carlos to his personal compound, and once there, she'd be brought into the inner circle. She'd learn what they were up to. And she'd be able to pass that information along.
If she failed, both family and government would forsake her, and she'd be left here to rot. Both in mind and body. It wasn't a pleasant thing to look forward to.
Why do you try, Teresa? You don't have the resources to pull off two tests at once. You don't know how to please Sands without alerting Carlos, and you can't truly please Carlos without betraying Sands. You walk a dangerous line, and you're already losing your balance. You will eventually fail. Just admit it now. Run now, while you can, before you are so tangled up in your own treachery that you'll be stuck, a fly waiting for the spider of fate to finish her off.
Shut up!
You're already losing yourself. Do you realize that you're beginning to think in Spanish? After so many years away at school, after all the training that forced you to loose your accent, you're reverting. Do you really need more proof?
No, she hadn't realized that she was beginning to use her first language more and more while her English went neglected. Thinking back, she realized that she hadn't spoken English since the night that Sands had visited her in her room. She supposed that Carlos must have noticed, because he addressed her in the same tongue now. Neva had never deigned to speak English in the first place – no matter that she was completely fluent in it – but she had been speaking more to Tess. Is it because I'm no longer putting on 'airs'? Did she realize that if Father had ever caught me speaking Spanish, I would have been punished? He wanted me to sound like an American. He wanted me to sound different than everyone else.
Completely distracted by these thoughts, Tess was caught off guard when someone stepped into her path, knocking her from her feet. She fell, just barely managing to catch herself before she hit the ground. And while she'd saved herself from a major spill, her purse hadn't fared nearly so well. Its contents shot out across the sidewalk, scattering like a handful of thrown dice.
[Hey you! What do you think you're doing?] Tess looked up from the mess that'd been made into the shaded and beard-hidden face of a priest. A priest that was soon to be set on by her bodyguards. She waved them off, once again cursing Carlos' stubborn insistence that she be accompanied.
Cautiously, the man climbed to his feet, offering her a slightly begrimed hand. [Forgive me, my child. I did not see you.]
[That's alright, Padre. I'm afraid I was lost in daydreams.] She allowed him to help her up. [Are you hurt?]
[No, my child, merely rudely awakened. But it seems that I have caused you to drop your belongings.] Once he was assured that she was steady, he bent back down, collecting her nearby cell phone and a case that held several computer disks. Ones she'd been instructed to bring with her.
[It's okay.] Looking over her shoulder, she nodded to her followers, indicating that they should help the priest.
Everything was quickly gathered, and she accepted her belongings back from her ecclesial pedestrian. [You are truly a woman of great patience. I shall light a candle for you to Saint Amelia.] Tess might be a bit rusty on her knowledge of the Catholic church, but she remembered that Amelia was the patron saint of those who wished to prevent bruising and arm pain. This priest had a sense of humor, apparently.
[Thank you, Padre. I wish you a pleasant afternoon.]
[May the Lord's blessings go with you as well, my daughter.] The man quickly preformed the sign of the cross as if in benediction, then walked away.
Tess watched him for a moment before shaking her head and making her way to her next stop.
If she had watched for a bit longer, she might have noticed that the priest turned the first corner into the first alley that he came to. Sands was certainly grateful that she'd let him go so quickly. He hadn't looked forward to letting her bodyguards get their meaty hands on him. He suspected that fear of the church and divine retribution might have kept them from doing him harm, but that was only if they hadn't tried to confirm who he was.
Shaking his head, he reached into the pocket of his robe, smiling when he felt the disks there. The long, voluminous sleeves of his vestments, a bit of slight of hand, and he'd managed to switch cases on Tess, without her ever being the wiser. A pity really; he rarely got time on the field anymore. Someone always needed him to look at something, or make some sort of decision, or to confirm this, or refute that. Boring. He'd taken this assignment thinking it'd get him out of the office, not into a small, dingy, cramped field office.
But I must admit that this is a day's work well done. Even if I didn't get to rattle Tessa's nerves. There's always later for that, I suppose.
Going back into the street, Sands whistled as he walked back to the small apartment that housed the operation. There were people back there expecting more answers.
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Five Days Later in Durango:
[No, that will be all. Thank you.] Tess tried to close the door to her hotel room, but was foiled by the same two goons who'd been following her since her reinstatement into the cartel.
They wedged the door open with their meaty hands, fighting her to get in. [Sorry, doctor, but we've got our orders.] Gently but implacably they defeated her attempts to gain some privacy.
As they entered the room, intent on searching it, Tess caught sight of Carlos. He was lounging in the open door to his room, watching as she caused a fuss in the hallway. She lowered her head and bit her lip as she noticed the glare on his face; he was sending her a silent message to behave herself and play by the rules.
Such reprimands had become common in the past few days. They'd left Culíacan and had traveled south east to Durango. Tess didn't know what the importance of that was, other than it was almost exactly halfway between Culíacan and Guadalupe. But here they were, and here they would remain for three days before finishing the last leg of their trip. A trip that Tess hoped would prove more pleasant than this one. Stuck in a car for ten to twelve hours on end, tempers had grown short between Neva and Carlos, and Tess had simply started keeping her mouth shut since everything she said appeared to be the wrong thing to say. A fact that she was often and repetitively informed of.
Close quarter will prove a man's true character. By the by, how are we feeling about Carlos these days? He's not exactly the gallant he played to woo you to your side. Is he?
So much travel would stress anyone. He doesn't mean half the things he says.
Her voice was unimpressed by her efforts to defend her cousin. Wouldn't it be better if he did mean them? It'd kill this sympathy you're beginning to have for him. Do you think you can warn him of his eminent downfall without causing your own? Silence . . . You still haven't made up your mind, Teresa Adame.
[We're done, señora.]
[Thank you.] Still distressed over the tense situation and her sudden lack of favor, Tess entered her room and quietly shut her door behind the men.
Carlos watched his cousin disappear behind her door and sighed. Tessa said she wanted to help, to serve him and the cartel, but she'd been bucking his control. He understood that she was wary, but that was no reason for being headstrong. He was trustworthy. She just had to be persuaded of that. He'd win her over yet. Once she discovered that he only had her best interests at heart, that he only wanted her at his side as they trained the next generation of their family . . . He got ahead of himself.
Crossing the hall, he knocked on Neva's door. His sister came quickly enough, but she seemed no more pleased to see him than Tess had been to see her bodyguards. "Don't be surly," he addressed her as he entered her room.
"Perdón." The request was infused with a generous dose of sarcasm.
"Save your attitude, Neva. I need to discuss something with you."
Neva's defensiveness melted away a bit at that. Carlos had been ignoring her lately in favor of their cousin and it'd irked her. But this, this was nice. This was the way things were supposed to be – Tessa free. "What about?" As Carlos took one of the chairs, she lounged across the foot of the bed.
"Tess." Carlos noticed the ice that stiffened his sister's spine at their cousin's name. "Neva," he sighed, "please do not start. You have my trust and my faith as I am sure I have yours. What I am not so sure is that we have Tessa's, and if we're going to bring her in on this, then we have to be certain of her."
"What? You doubt her because she's obstinate? She's spoiled, Carlos. I've known her longer than you have. She's always been that way."
"No. There is more to it than that. You know there is."
Neva rolled her eyes at her brother's stubborn refusal to see the truth, but she made sure he didn't see it. "Give her a test then. Take her to that alleged businessmen's dinner that you're going to tomorrow night. If she conducts herself well, then you'll know. If she's a totally liability, then you'll know that as well."
The suggestion had merit. "You're only saying that to get out of going yourself," he accused lightly, mulling over the idea.
Neva shrugged, not denying his accusation. "Look at it this way – Tess is likely to be ever so more diplomatic than I."
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"You're going, and that's the last I will hear of this. Get yourself dressed. We leave in an hour."
Tess hated dressing up. Really, she did. She understood that there was a time and place when it was proper to, but she'd never seen the point of making herself gorgeous when no one actually placed any value on her as a person. The only reason she was doing this now, was she knew what she risked if she blatantly disobeyed Carlos in this matter. This event was supposed to be a businessman's dinner, but he was here as the head of a powerful cartel, and apparently part of that required some sort of woman playing attendance on him. And he'd chosen her.
Since her unusually overbearing cousin had left the room, Tess threw herself down on her bed, ripping her glasses off her face, yanking the chain around her neck off. She threw both pieces of spyware across the room, determined that should she actually break down in tears, that there would be no record of it.
But the tears didn't come. She waited for twenty minutes, and they never appeared. So instead of wallowing in self-pity, she got up and unzipped the garment bag on her bed, mechanically stripping and sliding into the fancy dress.
I really don't know what you were expecting, Teresa.
I was expecting to have more value than a peon. A silly hope, I know. She zipped herself up. It's just . . . Carlos seemed different. He seemed different than Father, but he's not acting that way now.
Masks come off sooner or later. Just look at you.Tess stuck out her tongue at the mirror as she applied enough concealer to cover her freckles. She wandered back into the main room, pulling her hair back with a clip. She hadn't been bothering to blow-dry it lately, so it was wavy, and liked to escape her grip before she could close the clasp. Go get your eyes and ears.
Yes ma'am. The thought was extremely sardonic, but Tess retrieved her glasses and necklace. "Well, this is just perfect," she muttered after slipping the glasses onto her nose; the chain was broken.
"I didn't want you to wear that anyway. Silver is much too understated." Tess whirled around to look at her door – Carlos was standing there, dressed in a hand-tailored tuxedo. For the first time Tessa took note of the fact that her cousin wasn't bad looking. Men's looks weren't something she was used to observing though, so she threw the thought aside as being a severe case of the nerves or some sort of joke being pulled on her by her mind.
"I like understated," she muttered to herself, setting the necklace down. She thought she had another chain she could put the locket on, so nothing was really lost.
"Be understated tomorrow," Carlos told her, running a critical eye over her appearance. "Tonight you will be representing what is left of your family, and I will not have you hiding in the shadows and behind potted plants the entire time, understood?" She nodded. "Good."
Sighing, Tess went to her jewelry box and dug out a pair of ostentatious gold earrings. Returning to the mirror, she put them on, muttering under her breath, "I hope you're enjoying the show." She was talking to Sands, but Carlos was the one who could answer her.
"Not much of a show," he said dryly. "Take off those glasses, put in some contacts if you have to, and lets go."
I wonder if porcelain dolls feel as empty inside as I do at the moment. She'd glanced in the mirror in her room as she was escorted out, and she had to admit that she looked good. The black velvet-like material of her dress clung to her body and the bodice was made of black lace from the mandarin-style neck to an inch or so below the point where her cleavage started. There was a slit running up the sides to a point about four inches above her knee, and she was wearing black stockings that had a seam running up the back. Not that she'd picked any of this out – no, that had been Carlos. He had rivals to impress at this little fundraiser, and he was going all out.
I don't see why I'm the one who has to suffer though. There was nothing more boring than sitting around with some of societies biggest influences and most powerful people, while your 'date' conducted covert cartel business. Maybe if I'm lucky, shooting will break out at some point and we can leave. She'd been hoping this was going to be easy. But it wasn't, just like nothing else had been easy about this cockamamie plan that the CIA had cooked up. If they wanted inside information, they should have sent one of their own in.
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Tess fumed all the way to the governor's residence in Durango. The limo wound through the streets and Carlos ignored her, talking on his cell phone the entire time. He didn't sound happy, and she apathetically pitied whoever was on the other end of the line. The body guards were oppressively silent, so Tess kept her mouth shut and waited for this interminable trip to end. She looked forward to reaching some sort of permanent residence. Someplace that was small enough for her to be able to not have to worry constantly about her environment changing. And Durango, while the capital of the province, it was unknown, and that unnerved her. Perhaps if Sands were here with her . . . That's useless thinking. So stop it. Tomorrow they'd finally finish the trip to Carlos' preferred home, and she could relax her guard a bit.
The car stopped. A bodyguard climbed out of the front seat and came around to open the door on Carlos' side. He hung up with his contact and climbed out, offering a hand to Tess as she climbed out as well. He seemed to take pity on her, noticing that the drive had done nothing to calm her nerves. "Relax, jóvenes. You're a match for anyone here. No one will mistreat or look down on you. Just stick close and you'll be fine."
Easy for him to say. Tess reluctantly let him help her. Then she forced herself to play her role, holding her tiny purse in one hand and hooking one arm through Carlos'. She waited for him to give some sign as to what was going to happen next.
"Confíeme en," he whispered, escorting her into the building.
Trust him, her voice scoffed an hour later.
Please. Just don't start. Tess smiled brittlely at another sour businessman's wife. It was bad enough that she had to fake interest in all this without having to keep her mind from wandering as well. And if she simply stood around, staring off into space, people would talk; Carlos was an important business man – one who'd done a much better job of hiding his true occupation as a drug lord than her father had. But still . . . she thought that people still suspected, so she couldn't cause any talk.
People complemented Tess on her dress, her hair, her jewelry, her shoes – she wanted nothing more than to sit down. Sure, the strappy black sandals she had on looked nice, but they had a three inch heal and were most definitely uncomfortable. Unfortunately, she didn't dare stray from Carlos' side until he said she could. His temper had been so short lately that she didn't know what would happen if she publicly disobeyed him.
Dinner wasn't any more enjoyable than anything else had been since the night had started. People didn't understand cooking for people on a special diet. She was supposed to be avoiding foods that would raise her dopamine level, and they were serving her the very things she wasn't supposed to eat. Pâté, lobster, foods cooked in wine and smothered in butter. Why couldn't they serve chicken or something? I can eat that.
Tess sat at the banquet table and picked at her food as the conversation moved in eddies around her. Her mind would petrify, she'd develop gout, and admit to liking Sands out of boredom before she learned anything here. Scowling at a serving of asparagus and artichoke hearts that had been completely ruing by some sort of white sauce that stunk of garlic, she muttered, "Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: Hell might afford my miseries a shelter; therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all bolted against me."
"Excuse me?"
Tess looked up to see that she'd managed to catch Carlos' attention at what was most definitely the wrong time. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."
Better than talking to the sprouts.
Better than talking to you. Tess returned to being a pretty plaything for people to look at.
After dinner (and its chocolate rich dessert menu which she also couldn't eat) she was led out into the ballroom for dancing. Dancing. Tess hated dancing with a passion, and doubted that she could do it in her heels. It wasn't that she was a bad dancer or was clumsy, but the fact that it often involved being held close by total strangers.
When there was a lull in the action, Tess excused herself from her current partner, and tried to escape for a moment. She knew that Carlos would be unhappy if he noticed that she was missing, but by this time she didn't give a damn. She couldn't stand being lost in this great mass of strangers any more.
"Where are you going?" A hand on her elbow stopped her, and Tess had to fight from struggling against it.
I should have known that he'd be watching. I've been too resistant to this entire ordeal for him to be anything other than diligent. I admit that I'm on the verge of running off, and he must know it. But even though she'd confessed this, Tess tried to bluff her way out. "The ladies room. I have to powder my nose."
Carlos looked her in the eye as if he suspected her of having an ulterior motive. "Fine. But wait until after the next song. My associate wants to meet you."
Tess felt her face pale, but she didn't say anything. She was not going to beg to be let out of this. Carlos would only say no, and she would humiliate herself. Forcing her spine to straighten, she followed her cousin across the floor to where his newest business partner was standing.
"Teresa, allow me to introduce you to Señor Giovanni Juarez." It took a Herculean effort to keep the surprise and laughter off her face, but Tess managed. "Señor, this is my cousin, Teresa Barillo." Tess allowed the man to take her hand in a lose grip as she studied him and tried to contain laughter. How had she managed to run into a man who had Sands' old alias for a name? He's not bad looking, but he's not as attractive as Sands either.
Nice basis of judging looks, going by the man you're screwing after hours, and any other hours you can.
No one asked you."It's a pleasure to meet you, Señor Juarez."
"Please, call me Giovanni." Tess inclined her head in acknowledgement, thinking she'd never be able to do so without laughing out loud. It wasn't a normal – or sane – reaction, but then again, she was beginning to feel dangerously reckless.
The music started up again, and she cursed the small string quintet as 'Giovanni' asked her to accompany her to the dance floor. She might be feeling reckless, but she still didn't want to dance. Especially not to this music, or with this man.
A waltz. They had to play a waltz. Even the flamenco would be better than this. Tess followed her partner through the moves of the dance, trying to keep her body from freezing as his hands started to wander in small increments. She suddenly had the paranoid certainty about why Carlos had had her wear this dress, and she felt anger and humiliation fill her. She'd been turned over to the custody of her family by a incompetent government, and now Carlos – all protests and assurances aside – was using her to get what he wanted. She was sick of the whole mess. Maybe the fucking CIA is going to have to find another operative, because I will kill myself before I have to go through that again. The 'Giovanni' coincidence no longer seemed amusing.
Finally the music stopped, and Juarez returned her to her cousin. "Thank you for loaning me you enchanting cousin, Velasquez. I will most definitely give some thought to your proposal." With a bow, he turned to Tess, running his eyes over her form. It was all she could do to keep from losing control there and then. "Señora. I hope to experience the pleasure of your company again soon."
"Of course, señor." On your deathbed, she thought pleasantly. She had to fight not to shiver.
You know I'll take care of you.
No, you'll take advantage of me. There's a difference.
Yes, but if you don't know what's going on, what difference is made? I would think you'd start to trust me after all the years we've known each other. Over half your life now.
The gingerbread man trusted the fox to get him across the river. The fox swore not to eat him. But in the end he was still a fox, and foxes can't be trusted.
Aww. That hurts.
"Carlos, Giovanni, if you'll excuse me for a moment?" The men nodded, and she tried to keep her exit from looking as if she were fleeing. But I suppose even foxes can be helpful. If worse came to worse, she could act the madwoman.
Tess headed towards the restrooms, then turned towards the service corridors at the last moment. She needed some time alone. Her eyes were dry from the stale air inside the ballroom, her feet hurt from the shoes, her ears hurt from the elaborate gold earrings with their microchip microphones, and her head hurt from the constant chatter around her. Not to mention her very soul was heavy with foreboding over what Carlos' business with Juarez exactly included.
I wouldn't be the first woman to be used to close a deal. Her stomach rolled as she continued the thought. It wouldn't even be the first time I've been used. But hey . . . all's fair in love and war, right?
She didn't get an answer.
After some minutes, she managed to find her way outside into a deserted ally way. It probably wasn't the safest place to be, but Tess didn't care. She needed time alone, in the quiet, with fresh air. She gently eased the door closed, making sure it didn't shut all the way. If she got locked out, it'd take her awhile to get back inside without drawing attention to herself.
She walked further down the alley, looking around her to ensure she wasn't being followed. Once she was sure she was alone, Tess started talking under her breath. "I don't know if you caught all that, but that was Giovanni Juarez, Carlos' new business 'associate'." She mimed the air quotes. "I'm not quite sure for what, but something tells me I'll get the chance to find out real soon." She didn't know if Sands or anyone else was listening as she talked, but she knew she was being recorded in any case, so she was determined to sound as unaffected as possible. "I think Carlos has gotten it into his head that I might make a good comforter. Of course, men often like to . . . to talk during or . . . or after se . . . sex, so I might be able to learn a lot from Juarez that way." Despite her best efforts, Tess was having a hard time keeping her voice from trembling at the thought of what might be expected of her. "Of course, I have nothing to prove that's what might happen other than some significant looks, so I might be jumping the gun a little." Oh god, she hoped she was jumping the gun. She hoped she was just being extremely paranoid. She felt paranoid. "That's not important at the moment however. I've only managed to slip out for a little bit, and I know I should be inside trying to overhear information, but –"
"The CIA usually isn't interested in excuses, niña."
Tess spun around, then fell as she forgot her unreliable footwear. However, before she could hit the ground, a strong pair of arms caught her and pulled her upright. She looked into the face of her rescuer, and wondered if she was hallucinating. It certainly looked like Sands. She raised her hands and touched his face. He felt real. But he wasn't supposed to be here. She'd thought that he'd be busy overseeing the move to Guadalupe.
Sands brushed Tessa's hands away impatiently. "What was that you were saying, niña?"
"Why are you here?" She didn't understand.
He saw her confusion an sighed. Why the Agency had still decided to send her here with her handicap, he still didn't know. IN a normal situation, she'd never be considered for employment. Too risky. Hut here she was, and he needed to calm her. "Here outside, or here Durango?"
"Umm . . . both? You're not supposed to be here." Tess grabbed onto that conviction as the one thing she was sure of.
Sands shrugged. "I thought you might need some backup, since you're an incompetent newbie, and I also thought the chance for some mayhem might come up."
She didn't need backup, she needed a therapist and a restraining order, but she supposed Sands would do. Her body started trembling with relief and sustained stress. She knew it was a really bad thing to be feeling right now, but she wanted nothing more than to feel Sands against her body, and more. Shielding it with his. It'd be a lie, but it was one she was willing to listen to at the moment. "What kind of mayhem did you have in mind?"
Sands felt his eyes widen a bit as he heard the rough edge of desperation and desire enter Tessa's voice. This wasn't what he'd had in mind, and if he were a good little CIA agent, he'd send her back inside this instant. Good thing I've never been a good little agent. Besides, there was something in her eyes that he'd never seen before and he wondered how that would affect her actions.
Her hands returned to his face, softly caressing his skin as her body edged towards his. Tremors were wracking her body, and he brought his own hands up to rest on her shoulders. Her skin was cold, colder than the night air called for. It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it was possible that she was pale as well. Something was wrong, but no warning sirens were ringing in his head and no bodiless advice was offering itself, so he dismissed his concern. Whatever was wrong with her was her concern, not his. If she wanted to jump him here in the alley, that was fine by him.
Tess turned her head to the side as if she'd heard something, but she shook her head and looked at him, going completely still. She slowly shook her head, but Sands didn't think it had anything to do with him. Then she did something had everything to do with him. She reached down between their bodies and started touching him. He gasped as she grew bold and pulled his head down for a ruthless kiss. He was taken aback by her forwardness, but moved with her anyway. She led him across the alley to a wall, then pressed her spine against it as she pulled him against her.
Sands growled as she started nipping his bottom lip hard enough to hurt. He pulled away to scold her, but she merely moved her attention to his neck. Her unoccupied hand busied itself with unbuttoning his shirt far enough for it to slip inside and tease his chest with raspy touches from her short nails. Returning the favor, Sands slipped his hands under her skirt. She moaned, but didn't move her attention from her other activities. If anything, she became more focused.
Without any warning whatsoever, Tess reversed their positions so that he was the one leaning against the wall and she was the one pressing him back. There was a sense of desperation to her movements as she started kissing him again. Sands wondered if he should be concerned after all, but then her hand slipped down to the fly of his slacks, and he couldn't think that precisely anymore.
Some part of Tessa's mind wondered what she was doing. It screamed at her to stop and think about the reactions her motions were causing, but the part of her mind goading her on drowned it out. With a single-mindedness that she'd once reserved for her lessons, Tess let her hands search for any flesh she could reach. She could feel that he was ready to take things further, but she wasn't prepared to do that yet.
That's because you have no intention of going that far tonight.
I don't? Her hands continued to tease him to mindless arousal as she paused her mind to argue with her other half. She could hear Sands groaning in the distance, but it didn't seem as real as the conversation taking place at the moment.
No, why should you? Do you trust this man?
Not totally, but that's never stopped you from urging me to do this before. Why are you doing so now?
Do you want to sleep with this man?
Yes? The answer was uncertain. She didn't know what point her voice was trying to make.
And if you ever decided that you didn't want to? What if halfway through the process you changed your mind. Would you need to fear him? You fear the other men.
But this is my choice.
For how long?
Tess could feel her captive's hips starting to move with the rhythm she'd unconsciously set up, and more than that, she could feel a hand on her breasts and could hear her own sounds of pleasure ringing dimly in her ears. When had that happened? I don't know.
Maybe you need to find out.
How do you propose I do that?
Let him go. Tess did, and moved away as Sands took a moment to recover enough to figure out why he didn't feel as good as he had.
He cursed and Tess moved further away as fear took up residence in the back of her head. What had she been thinking? What had It been thinking? Even good men would be hard pressed not to force the issue after someone had taken things this far, and she wasn't convinced that Sands was entirely a good man. Or even partially a good man.
"What the fuck?" What the hell was going on?
"I need to ask you something." Sands could hear the confusion and fear in Tessa's voice, and he became cautious. She'd sounded just like this before the CIA's drugs had taken control of her that day they'd convinced her to come back to Mexico. "I'm sorry, I should have asked earlier. But I wasn't thinking clearly."
Obviously. "What did you want to ask, niña?" He tried to keep things as normal as possible, or was possibly normal for a half-undressed man. Perhaps she could still pull back from this.
"If I ever asked you to stop, would you?"
What had brought this about? Tessa's mind may function differently than everyone else's, but she usually was on the same track as what was happening around her, if on a different train. What had he heard her muttering about as he'd come up behind her earlier?
"I suppose that would depend on when you ask, chiquita. You're a doctor, you know there's a point of no return." He took a step towards her, but she retreated before him, scared, jumpy. He couldn't remember what he'd been saying before she mentioned that she might be jumping the gun.
"If I told you I wanted to stop now, would you?" She took another step back as he came towards her again. This had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. She really had to stop listening to her voice's ideas. "If I told you you were scaring me, would you stop?"
"That all depends, niña. Are you scared of me, or something else?"
He wasn't answering her questions. What did that mean? Was she supposed to know the answers already, or did he just not want to tell her? "I don't know." He came closer by another step and Tess backed into the wall.
Sands saw she was cornered and took his opportunity. He leapt forward and grabbed hold of her by her upper arms. She didn't scream or cry out, although she did stiffen in either fear or dislike. Her eyes were level with his, and he looked into them. Fear was lurking in them, and confusion, and a small amount of panic, but no madness. Perhaps she was fighting it, or perhaps it had been there and deserted her in a situation of its making. But something had set it off. Something inside the residence behind them. "Why are you asking this, Teresa? What knocked you off balance?"
She glanced around distractedly, avoiding his gaze. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want him to know that she thought her family wanted to reduce her to the position of a common whore.
Why should he care? You're already whoring for him.
Be quiet! "Nothing happened."
"You're a miserable liar, niña. I'd like an answer, if you please."
And if she didn't please? Would he shake the answers out of her? "Please, you're hurting me."
Sands instantly let go of her, but he didn't back off, keeping her boxed in with his presence. "Teresa."
"Carlos. Carlos and Juarez, his new partner. They're inside, and Carlos made me dance with Juarez. His first name is Giovanni, you know. I thought you might want to know that. I thought it was funny –" She stopped her own rambling, by placing a hand over her mouth. Now was not the time to fall apart.
Sands watched as she took several deep breaths, obviously pulling the shreds of her tattered control together. "I can't prove anything, but I got the feeling that . . . that I . . . I . . . he looked at me, and he was touching me, and there were lots of people around, and I had to get out. Then you surprised me . . . ." Her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry." She shuffled her feet and lost her balance again, swaying in her place.
Sands hissed as she brushed against his desire sensitized body. She froze and looked up into his face – desire was still there behind the analytical mask he was wearing. She knew he wouldn't be adverse to finishing what they'd been doing. But was she?
"Sands? You never answered my question." Her hands came up to rest on his arms, stroking distractedly over the fabric. "Would you ever . . . ?"
"I've never had to resort to rape yet, conejo."
"But if I asked you to stop?"
"Have I forced you to do anything yet tonight? Besides answer my questions?" She shook her head. "I can't promise you anything more than you can promise me. Is that enough for you to work with?"
She thought about it. He was being honest with her – she could see that. And while his words weren't particularly comforting, they were a bit reassuring. For tonight at least. And tomorrow night she'd be back inside the 'loving arms' of her family. "Yes."
She let Sands take the lead this time, kissing him back when he demanded a reaction, relaxing when he didn't. She could feel her sense of awareness slipping away again, but she let it go without a fight. This was natural, something that happened to everyone during intercourse. This wasn't part of mind stealing away her control. No, this time Sands was the thief, and she welcomed him.
Release rushed through her faster than she had thought it would, and soon her skirt was up around her waist and Sands was. . . . Oh díos. He raised one of her legs to wrap around his hips after making sure she wouldn't accidentally set off any of his guns. Tess was soon moaning again; one of Sands' hands came up to anchor her hips and steady her on her feet. His hips were helping to hold her up as they moved together.
"Do you trust me? Do you trust me right now?" Sands' voice was breathless in her ear, and it took her a moment to decipher what he'd said. When she did, she nodded, humming in delight and agreement. "Let go." His words lit a fuse within her that caused numerous explosions inside her body. Her ears were just stopping their ringing, when his release flooded her with almost the same force as her own. She whimpered as he pulled her up on her toes as he found completion. She'd have bruises in the morning most likely, but it was worth it.
For several long minutes they stood standing in the same position, Tess clinging to Sands with a leg draped over his hips, Sands with his head buried in the crook of her neck. But time did eventually intrude, and they parted, righting their clothes, and Tess trying to make some order of her hair.
That's when all hell broke lose.
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Quotes: William Cowper
Author's Thanks: thanks go to . . . . Merrie (stubborn is good. Without stubborn, I'm not sure I'd have a plot.); C.J. Davis (I feel like I'm juggling characters sometimes, and not really spending enough time with any of them, but I'm glad you like how I'm managing to touch on everyone.); Isola (Never seen 'Gladiator', but I hear it's good. Yes, I love writing stuff between Tess and Sands – it's fun and frustrating at the same time. Thanks for the reassurance that I'm sticking to my own standards. It's hard to tell sometimes after you've struggled with a chapter for weeks on end.); normal human being (week from hell. hums 'From' and 'hell' are dangerous words to use around me at the moment because I'm on the edge of starting a 'From Hell' fic. ; ) And not a cliffie? How can I hold my head up? I hope this is soon in your book, because it certainly is in mine.); Cayenne Pepper Powder (Tessa's life is messed up . . . but I wouldn't have nearly as much fun if it weren't.); Dreamgirl22147 (Jealousy . . . at least in its first stages. Can't have Sands getting full-blown jealousy yet. He's not ready to admit that much, and Tess isn't ready to accept it. The relationship will definitely change, I'm just not sure how yet.); Shannon (I'm always glad to hear from first time reviewers. It encourages me that I've got more than the same 'X' amount of people reading. I promise I will not stop writing until I've finished this story. And perhaps my other one. And the idea that won't leave my head. How's that?); theScarlettWeasel (I'm glad to be back : P)
