15. Lana

15

LANA

I didn't bring Henry with me to seduce him. I really wanted him to understand that Lazaro was more than what the police reports said he was. That I could make him see Lazaro as a person or to care about his case because I cared about it.

Henry listened to my story about Lazaro, really listened. He didn't dismiss it or try to twist it into something sinister. I saw genuine care in his eyes as I spoke. Does he think Lazaro is a good person? Probably not. But Henry sees how much Lazaro means to me.

For so long, I've felt alone in my belief that Lazaro is still out there somewhere. Henry may believe like Elio, that the case is a lost cause. That Lazaro is dead, but he said he'd look. He's going to help find my brother.

I can't put into words how much it means to me to have someone else willing to look for Lazaro. To accept that I might be right and he's alive somewhere. I suppose that's why I'm kissing him back.

I melt into Henry's kiss, my body responding immediately and with an intensity that's almost overwhelming. His lips are soft yet demanding. I clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, and I'm lost in a whirlwind of sensation. My heart pounds as his hands tangle in my hair.

Suddenly, Henry pulls away, leaving me breathless and confused. "We should go."

Irritation flares within me. Is he seriously putting the brakes on now? He's the one who started the kiss! I open my mouth to protest, ready to tell him off for leading me on.

Henry leans in, his lips brushing against mine again. "Maybe you could drive me home before we get arrested for lewd acts." Then his mouth captures mine again in a searing kiss that leaves no doubt about his intentions. Relief and desire flood through me as I realize he's not rejecting me. He wants this as much as I do.

When he pulls away, his eyes watch mine, probably assessing whether I'm going to tell him off or agree to go back to his place.

I smirk. "Worried you'll ruin your Boy Scout reputation?"

He grins. "I haven't gotten to second base in a car since high school."

I laugh. "Just second base, eh?"

His gaze drifts to my mouth for a second and then back to my eyes. "I like to have room to fully appreciate a woman's body."

Every neuron inside me lights up as I imagine all the ways Henry can appreciate my body.

"Weren't cars bigger back when you were in high school?" I tease, thinking of my grandfather's old Cadillac Lazaro inherited and fixed up.

Henry's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Are you calling me old, Ms. D'Amato?"

"What if I am?"

His expression shifts, becoming more serious. "Does that bother you? The age difference between us?"

I pause, wondering if he doesn't realize I'm teasing. "No. I mean, what are you, thirty-four? Thirty-five?"

"Thirty-seven."

Oh. Wow. He looks good for nearing forty.

"I'm thirteen years older than you."

I shrug. "Our ages don't factor when we're together."

His head tilts to the side as if he's pleased to hear it. "Me, neither. Does that mean you'll drive me home?"

"Want to drive?"

His face lights up with surprise and excitement. "Are you kidding? I'd give my right nut to drive this car."

"Lucky for you, I want you to keep your nuts." I realize that being enthralled by cars isn't just a Lazaro thing. It appears Henry has the same boyish enthusiasm about them.

We exit the car, and I make my way around to the passenger side. Henry waits by the door, and I wonder if he's having second thoughts about driving or even being with me. My heart skips a beat, uncertainty creeping in.

As I approach, he pulls me close, his lips meeting mine in a tender kiss that washes away my doubts. When we part, he steps aside, helping me into the seat with a gentle hand. Once I'm in, he rounds the car and slides into the driver's seat. I have to admit, he looks good behind the wheel. He's like James Bond come to life, except without the misogyny.

The warning bells are sounding, but I ignore them because being here with him feels too good, too right. I'm falling for the man who is my enemy… no, I'm jumping in the deep end.

The warmth in my chest grows as Henry expertly navigates the streets of the city, skillfully maneuvering through the maze of traffic. Yep, he's sexy. And it seems wrong that he only got to second base in a car.

I unbuckle my seatbelt.

He glances at me. "You're not going to try and jump out, are you?"

I shake my head, running my fingers up this thigh. "Not at all." My hand brushes over his cock, which is hard, telling me he knows what I'm up to.

"You're playing a dangerous game." He shifts in the seat, and his fingers grip the steering wheel harder.

"I'm sure you'll protect me, Detective." I unhook his pants, freeing his erection and stroking it, slowly, but firmly.

"Ah… fuck…" His hips rock upward. "You should be wearing your seatbelt."

"I can't do this with my seatbelt on." I lean over and take him into my mouth, savoring the taste of him.

Henry groans deep in his throat, his hand fisting in my hair as I begin to bob my head, taking more of him inside me. His hips start to move in time with my strokes, and I can feel him growing harder, longer.

"Lana… fuck…"

With my hand, I fondle the nuts he said he'd sacrifice to drive my car as I continue to suck and lick, taking as much of him as I can in my mouth. I'm aware this thing between us is veering into treacherous territory. I came into this with the intention of using Henry to find information about Lazaro. It was supposed to be a means to an end, nothing more. For reasons that make no sense to me, it's become so much more in such a short amount of time.

And what about Henry's goals? Is he truly interested in me, or is this all part of some elaborate plan to gather evidence against my family? He exudes authenticity. The compassion in his eyes feels real. There's something about Henry that makes me feel seen, understood in a way I haven't experienced since Lazaro disappeared. And because he does, I appear to overlook all the reasons this is complicated and dangerous. When I'm with Henry, I feel alive again. The world doesn't seem quite so dark and lonely.

The car slows to a stop. "Red light, Lana. Fucking hell, make me come…"

I grip his dick, squeezing as I stroke him and suck him at the same time.

"Yes…" He grunts, and his cum fills my mouth, thick and warm.

When I've sucked him dry, I sit up, feeling pretty smug. He puts his hand behind my neck and tugs me to him, kissing me hard, tasting himself on my lips.

"Buckle up, baby. We've got a long night ahead of us." He presses on the gas, and we zoom through the intersection.

I'm exhilarated, laughing as Henry rushes back to his apartment building. He parks and tugs me into the building. When the elevator doors close, he presses me against the wall, crushing his lips against mine. His tongue darts out, teasing my lips apart, and I give in, returning his kiss with equal vigor.

When the elevator arrives at his floor, the doors are barely open before we slip through and Henry is tugging me to his apartment. He presses me against the door, kissing me again as he fumbles with the key.

The door opens, and we stumble in, and he kicks the door shut. Henry's smile is slow and sinful as he takes my hand and leads me to his room.

I don't have time to take it in before he's claiming my mouth again, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth as his fingers pull down the zipper of my dress.

I dig my nails into his shoulders, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. I want him. Need him. It's like my life depends on it. A frenzied hunger courses through my veins.

He pulls away, his eyes filled with wild heat. "I'm going to show you how a bed is so much better than a car."

"Promises, promises."

His smile is wicked. "Buckle up." He pushes my dress off my shoulders, and it pools around my feet, leaving me standing there in nothing but my lacy black bra and panties.

"Your body is a man's wet dream come to life," he says as he brushes the back of his fingers over the swells of my breasts.

"Oh… Detective Boy Scout likes dirty talk."

"Do you like it?" His fingers unclasp the front of my bra.

"Is there more?"

He pushes my bra off and then lowers to his knees, tugging my panties down. "If you like it."

I step out of my panties, standing before him in nothing but high heels.

His hands run up the sides of my legs as he looks up at me. "Do you have a record of orgasms in one night?"

My pussy tingles at his words. "I've never counted."

He arches a brow like he doesn't believe me.

"I mean, I've never had so many that it was something I should count."

"Well, I believe it was three the other night, so how about we go for five?"

Holy hell. Can I have five? Will I survive five? "You're quite sure of yourself."

His smile is confident, smug. "Oh, I am."

I wonder how many women he's been with before. Jealousy flares even though it's silly. I mean, he's thirty-seven. Of course he's been with women before.

I stand, and he maneuvers me over to the bed and has me sit on the edge. He lowers to his knees again and pushes my thighs apart.

"First, I'm going to return the favor from our drive home." He leans in, licking then sucking the inside of my thigh. I'm so wet and needy, I'm probably going to come the instant he touches my clit.

"We'll go for two." He blows gently over my aching pussy. "Then I'll lie back and you'll ride my face. That should be good for two more."

"Oh, my God." I'm about to come just from his words.

"And then I'm going to fuck you, Lana. Hard. Do you like it hard?"

"I'd like you to start soon."

He gives me that wicked smile again. "Hold on tight."