I met him at a veteran's gala hosted by Sam Wilson and James Rhodes. The man is the epitome of male sexiness. I'm enjoying the spectacular view. "Who is he?" I ask Sam.
He looks in the direction I'm staring. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso," Sam replies. "Would you like an introduction?"
Barely suppressing a groan, I breathily reply, "Yes." Steve catches my eye and smiles. He can hear my answer from across the room and knows I cannot prevent my reactions to Ricardo. I thought Steve Rogers was gorgeous, but nothing could beat that of Ricardo Carlos Manoso. A modern day Adonis. He's a few inches taller than me. I bet he could play my body like a fiddle and have me singing whatever tune he wants. We do our dance of stolen glances from across the room. My body hums in anticipation as he struts across the room. I gasp as the energy increases with every step he moves closer.
Steve smiles as he approaches with Manoso on his heels. Energy pulsates through my flesh, matching the rapid beat of my heart and making the hairs on my arm stand to attention. I foolishly moderate my breath, attempting to slow my heart to a manageable rhythm. Steve smirks as he catches the minuscule change. I'm not fooling him.
"Carlos Manoso, this lovely lady is Stephanie Plum," Steve says. Manoso's lip twitches in amusement. No, I'm wrong. His eyes give his thoughts away. He's pleased to know my name.
"Hi, Mr. Manoso," I reply, extending my hand for him to shake as my Burg manners kick in. Mom would have a heart attack if I'm not polite during introductions.
"Please, call me Carlos, Stephanie," he replies. His voice is silky smooth and deep with a slight accent. I feel it vibrate in my stomach. Goodness, why am I so affected by him?
"Steph," I quickly correct as his hand engulfs mine. It's warm, and his fingers have calloused from working hard. I imagine Carlos touching me in more intimate places.
The electricity passes through my palm. Carlos seems a little taken aback by the connection. Why is he surprised? I was aware of Manoso before he entered the room. Perhaps he isn't as aware of me. The air suddenly feels dry, and I'm overheating. I politely excuse myself to get a drink. His eyes follow me as I return to the bar and my best friend. Ha! Manoso did notice me.
My friend teases me about staring at the man, but I tell her to shove it. Pfft. As if I have the guts to tell Natasha Romanoff to shove anything anywhere. I met Nat through a mutual friend, Clint Barton, while I assisted with distracting a man they believed to work for Hydra, a group set on ruling the world with super soldiers like James Buchanan Barnes.
Bucky has been Steve's best friend since childhood. It broke my heart when Steve told me about his friend getting used as Hydra's human weapon. Barnes is one of many military men Hydra turned into Winter Soldiers. It isn't safe for humankind until Barnes shakes the brainwashing.
Nat distracts me by placing a drink in my hands. She suggested I give Manoso my phone number. I'm not interested in making the first move. I've done that in the past, and it never turned out as I expected. Mom takes advantage of the situation and plans a wedding if the man fits her vision as the perfect husband. Though, I admit Mom wouldn't put Manoso in that category. He isn't Italian.
Thank goodness I left Dickie Orr at the altar. The thought of marrying a man I didn't love gives me goosebumps. "Bomba, he isn't Dickie," Nat whispers. Hearing Dickie's name warrants knocking back the drink in my hand. The ice tinkles in the glass as I place it on the bar top. I feel Steve and Carlos watching me.
"He's an active soldier," I mumble. Oh. Did I forget to mention I'm a sucker for a man in uniform? Manoso is a decorated soldier. He has ribbons for bravery, honour, distinguished service cross, and many others I'm not sure what they are for. His rank is insignificant. I raise my hand for another drink. The bartender, with dark hair and grey eyes, smiles and then pours the whisky over ice before adding a splash of lime and coke. He exchanges the new drink with the old. I smile in thanks.
"Manoso's a Ranger," Nat shares. I raise my brows as she taps on her phone. Shrugging, Natasha says, "He's the best in the field. His street name is Ranger."
I snort. "Nobody is better than Captain America. There is no competition."
"Barton and I ran across Manoso and his men," Nat replies as I take a large sip of my drink, "he's as adept with his hands as he is with a weapon." I spew my drink across the bar, narrowly missing the bartender. He smiles and washes the counter as he shakes his head in amusement. Natasha raises her hand for another drink.
"Are you trying to get me drunk? You know my tolerance is low," I remind her. Natasha shrugs, then pushes the drink to me. I roll my eyes and catch Steve watching me. He grins and winks before continuing his conversation with Manoso. I feel Manoso's eyes on me as I knock back the second… I mean, third drink. The alcohol burns as I swallow. Vodka. I should have known. Nat loves her vodka.
The music starts playing. Electricity is flowing through the air. Its malleable nature encompasses me as I sense Manoso approaching. His chest grazes my back as he leans close enough to whisper over the loud music, "Babe, may I have this dance?"
I slowly turn, brushing my breasts across his arm before facing him, feeling my nipples form into painful peaks begging for attention from his hands and mouth. My heels put me at his height. Our noses and lips are in perfect alignment. I merely have to close the two-inch gap separating our lips and tilt my head.
My inhibitions are gone, swallowed with the last gulp of my drink. "Are you calling me Babe, Mr. Hot Stuff?" I ask, trailing a finger from his shoulder down his muscular chest and abs. I stop just shy of his belt buckle. Leaning into him, flattening my breasts against his chest, I whisper, "Ranger," using his street name, "I must warn you that things around me have a way of," I pause for effect, "exploding."
"Dios!" he replies when I brush my lips from his ear to the corner of his lips. "Call me Carlos," he growls, reminding me of his preferred name.
His eyes are dark as he tugs me onto the dance floor. My body is pressed against his, leaving no space between us. His erection presses against my hip. Goodness, it's been a long time since I had a social orgasm. Mr. Manoso is well endowed.
"Carlos," I breathily say as he pushes his thigh against my crotch, matching the beat of the sexy song blaring over the speakers. It takes every ounce of concentration not to ride his leg to ease the ache I'm feeling deep inside. The friction as we dance causes my body to react. I want whatever he can offer during our erotic motion. An orgasm unexpectedly ripples through my body. Thankfully, the music swallows my moans. Carlos groans. I feel him pulsate against my hip before the erection dissipates.
"Dios," Carlos breathes into my ear. "I haven't done that since I was a teen." He twirls us off the dance floor, maintaining the pressure of my body against his while hiding the evidence of his orgasm.
Steve and Natasha catch my eye and grin. I know Steve heard me. The traitor told Natasha. She raises her shot glass of vodka, sending me a silent "cheer" before she knocks back the drink in my honour.
Carlos and I end up in the hotel elevator, going to who knows where? He tugs my hand, dragging me from the cart once the doors open on the seventh floor. I find myself pressed against a door as Carlos swipes the card in the reader. It beeps, indicating it is unlocked. Carlos refuses to release me from his arms. His lips press to mine once the door closes behind us.
"You were right," Carlos says, breaking the kiss. I gasp to catch my breath. The kiss was steamy, a prelude to what he had to offer.
"It's known to happen," I joke. "About what?"
"That you make everything explode," he replies, pressing his crotch to my hip.
"Why did that happen?" I ask. Carlos finally releases his grip on me to run his hand through his hair, pulling the leather strip binding the ponytail. The thick, dark locks fall to his shoulder. I moan, fighting the urge to run my fingers through his hair, wondering if it feels as silky as it looks.
"It's been too long since I had sex," Carlos replies. "I need to feel you, Babe."
"My name is Stephanie. I don't do one-night stands or relationships," I say, moving away from the sexy man. His lip twitches in amusement. I instinctively know he used the relationship excuse with his one-night stands. I want to rub my naked body against his and ride him as I shout, "Giddy up," but that isn't how tonight is supposed to go. Nat and I are heading to upstate New York after the gala. We have a job to do. I can't afford to have Manoso derail my plans.
Carlos untucks his shirt. The bottom left contains semen from ejaculating in his pants. I giggle when he groans. "You did this to me, Stephanie," Carlos growls. I moan at the way my name rolls off his tongue. How is he disarming me? During a sparring match, I'm a tough woman who can hold my own against Captain America and the Black Widow. With Carlos, I'm a weak-kneed hormonal pile of goo.
I cave and spend one magical and fantastic night with the wizard, completely forgetting about the trip with Natasha. Carlos is everything I could ever need in a man, lover and partner. My body sings for him. I want Carlos Manoso in my life. We make love many times, and I can't get enough.
Carlos and my schedules never seem to align. Either he's away on a mission, or I'm working undercover operatives with Natasha, Clint or Steve. I keep myself out of the limelight, leaving that job for Natasha, Steve and Tony Stark.
Tony is a funny man. He's crazy intelligent but lacks patience for anyone besides Pepper Potts. At the end of a difficult day, Tony only looks for Pepper. She calms him. Pepper is Tony's home. That's what I want. I know Carlos is my home. We only need to find time for each other.
"Bomba," Black Widow calls. I'm wearing a dark blue outfit resembling hers in every way, except I have a bomb embossed on my shirt. Black Widow's uniform is pure black.
"Coming, Widow," I reply. We're in the field, necessitating our need to use our code names.
I guess I should start my tale from the beginning. How did I get here? Hang onto your hats or whatever is within grabbing distance. Have I got a story for you?