His head was heavy on my abdomen as he laid lifeless on top of me. He slept like the dead, not moving anything other than the positioning of his head.
His warm breath tickled my bare skin, making it hard for me not to move. The clock on his nightstand read nine. I had been up for two hours already, usually I started my day with a run. It was strange to lie in bed for hours. I felt unproductive and a waste of time.
I took in a large amount of air and felt saliva roll down my throat and coughed at the uncomfortable feeling. Aurelio lifted his head up with no obvious signs of being groggy. His brown eyes were on mine, and he looked at me with a hint of confusion.
He probably doesn't even remember bringing me home last night.
His head tilted to the side and the crease of his forehead showing that he was piecing together the night before.
"Milo, right?" Without slurring, his voice was clear. I could hear the hint of his accent; a Honduran accent.
"That's me," I said. I rarely spoke to anyone before brushing my teeth, but I didn't have much of a choice. His arms were around my waist, and his chin pressed into my stomach. Giving him a smile, I noted the faded scar on the left side of his head.
"Damn, I was out of it last night. Thanks for getting me here safely, I just wish I could've had some fun with you before I passed out." He smirked at me and tightened his hold on me.
"It's all right. I should probably get going. I'm here to review a hotel I didn't actually sleep in," I said. I tried to lean up, but he was too heavy to push off. If I was in my normal frame of mind, I would have punched him in the nose. Allowing him keep me down for the moment, I kept the thought of driving my fist into his face at the back of my mind.
"I thought you said you were just passing through," he asked. His tone was calm, but the look in his eyes were critical. He was looking to poke holes in my story.
"I'm working as a freelance hotel reviewer for a small paper in San Antonio. I'm part of a team moving through medium towns in Texas. I'm only here for the night, unless I find another worthy hotel to review." I closed the gaps in my story but left a few threads for him to pick at. There was a fine line between sparking curiosity and showing your lie.
"What paper? Maybe I've heard of it?" He loosened his grip around me. I sat up, using my elbows as support. I could still smell the soap on his skin, now mixed with his natural musk. If he wasn't who he was, I would have nuzzled myself into the scent. I looked down at him seeing his towel had come undone allowing me to see his muscle backside slightly darkened with black hair.
"The San Antonio Millennial," I said. He laughed at the name. "It is not funny, the owners workshopped that name for all of ten minutes." He picked up on my sarcasm and laughed harder than he had before.
"You want some breakfast? You drove me here so the least I can do is make you some food." He stood, his question more of a statement. Without shame, he showed off his hairy bottom half and walked into his bathroom. I stopped myself from staring long enough to put my shirt on that he had discarded to the floor
I could not wait to get out of the thick fabric. It was hot, and I felt ridiculous as I probably looked wearing flannel. One would think an Alaskan like myself would have an intimate relationship with the article of clothing, but I had never owned one. My mother hated patterns, so most of my clothing was plain and that taste had flown into my adulthood.
Aurelio, after a few minutes, walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of light gray sweatpants and had not put on a shirt to keep his well-defined chest on display. He held the cup of a mouthwash bottle out towards me which I took, swishing it around my mouth before walking into his bathroom.
It was large. Modern wood paneling covered his walls and. A large window sat behind a garden tub. It would have been nice to get a soak in, especially seeing all the trees on the ranch. I walked to the sink and spat out my mouthwash, avoiding looking into the mirror. I did not want to see how rough I looked. I quickly splashed lukewarm water on my face before walking out of the bathroom.
Aurelio had his phone in his hand, reminding me I had not checked mine. I reached inside my pocket then pulled my hand out, thinking better of it. Aurelio looked up at me and placed his phone on his nightstand.
"You look good, come on." He walked out of his room and I moved quickly to catch up with him. His stride was different in a sober state. He was confident on his legs, each step had swagger. If not for what he did, I could have seen myself being attracted to him. He moved like he was royalty, and every atom was his subject. He had earned the right to have the house, clothes, cars. He had the swagger of a man that could get in between the legs of anyone he wanted. He almost got between mine.
As he walked, he cut the lights off that remained on since the sun was providing more lighting than the bulbs could ever hope to produce. When we made it to the kitchen, he pulled out a barstool for me to sit at. I took my place and watched as he moved around the kitchen.Pots. clanged, and he pulled spices from the pantry. I realized that he was right at home in the kitchen as I stared at him in awe.
"Do you not have a hangover?" He looked at me as if speaking Farsi. The confusion turned into boisterous laughing, abs flexed with each exhale.
"Hangovers are for lightweights," he said. Calming down, he pulled out a carton of organic eggs and uncured thick-cut bacon.
"Home, play my Friday morning mix," he shouted. The sound of the device powering on followed the command, and then a second of silence before Spanish music played. I tapped my foot to the beat, silently watching him prepare too much food. Scrambled eggs, bacon, thick flour tortillas, cheese, refried beans, and plantains were all prepared.
"Coffee, water, or juice?" He looked up at me for the first time in thirty minutes. When I woke up, I had not expected the morning to go how it had. I was sure that he would try something when he got up, or at least feel incapacitated. He had alcohol and a sleeping agent. Breakfast was something you did for a boyfriend or lover, not for a stranger you met in a bar and only had a few words spoken between us.
"I'll take some juice," I answered. He nodded before pouring himself a cup of coffee than made my glass of cranberry juice. He sat next to me and we ate what he had prepared. It smelled good, and the taste was orgasmic. Each spice layered with the ingredients natural flavor led to an orgasmic eating experience. He was eating a lot more than I was needing to fuel his bulky frame.
"That was delicious" I said with a full stomach. My normal breakfast comprised corn flakes or toast.
"Thanks, I usually have a cook meal prep for me but I was in the mood to cook." He took another bite of bacon.
"So when will I get to redeem myself? I like to finish what I start. What hotel were you reviewing?" He wiped his mouth and gave me his undivided attention. I had a tendency to look people in the eye, but Aurelio took that to a ten. His eyes followed my every move. It was normal for a fighter to read body language, so I focused on keeping calm. I focused on keeping my eyes off the potted plant.
"The Marriott on Southwest Boulevard. I don't know when I'll be back this way," I said.
"You're coming back." It was a demand, not a request. His hand went to my thigh and squeezed.
"Okay," the words fell out of my mouth in a moan. It was unlike me to respond to dominance. I wanted to revolt but had to keep those feelings bottled.
"I need to see your face within two weeks. Don't make me have to come looking for you. Understand?"
I nodded, which was enough for him to remove his hand. He leaned over and kissed my forehead before stuffing the last plantain in his mouth. He chewed while pulling his phone out.
"Put your number in my phone," he said. This time it was more of a request. It almost felt like he was toying with me. It felt like a test. One second he was sweet, the next he was domineering. I took his phone and put my number inside. When I finished and handed it back to him and he smiled.
"You ready for me to take you back to your car. I bet you have a lot to write and I have some work to do." I nodded in agreement and we got up, not bothering to put the dishes away. He led me outside to his car that was sitting in front of the stairs. Soon we were driving down the road towards the bar. He kept stealing glances at me, and I smiled back at him.
He did not turn on music or speak, so we sat in silence. My tongue ran over my teeth, a nervous habit I kept from a young age. We made it into town as he sped down the road in ten minutes, and then we parked in front of the bar. It looked worse in the daylight. The whole area needed a power wash.
He parked in front of the bar, then looked over at me. I couldn't help but to look at his muscled chest. "My eyes are up here," he said there was a smug look on his face. I rolled my eyes.
"Do you make it a habit to leave the house without a shirt on?" He laughed at me his hand coming up and rubbed his beard that still could use a trim. "I like how you look at me when I don't have a shirt on."
I genuinely smiled at him before opening the door. He grabbed me as I stepped out, my head snapped to his direction and saw him smiling warmly at me. I tried not to yank my arm away from his. Allowing him to pull me forward, I calmed myself and felt him kiss me on the forehead before letting me go.
"Don't make me have to hunt you down. Remember, I said two weeks." He had flipped into being serious once again.
"I'll try my best. Call me," I said. Getting out of the car, the heat hit me. It was late morning, and the sun was high in the sky. I waited for Aurelio to drive away before I walked to my car. It was a simple silver sedan that was not remarkable.
As I got closer, I noticed a movement in the back seat and paused for a full five seconds. That was all the time that I needed to get out of character. My posture became rigid and my stride quickened. Crouching, I made my way to the front tire wheel, and I pulled out a gun. I had loaded it and switched off the safety before I even drove to the bar the night before.
I held it in front of me prepared to use the skills that were drilled into me. I unlocked the doors with one hand, never removing my primary focus from the movement. I stalked to the back right side of the car and yanked the door open.
"FBI get out the fucking car," I barked the words at the burglar.
"Calm down Eaton," her voice was authoritative and rather deep for a woman. The brunet from earlier held her hand up at me. I turned the safety on and lowered my weapon. Her hand fell to her lap when she was no longer staring at the barrel of my gun.
"Agent Parker, how did you get in here," I questioned. She pulled a key fob from her pocket and I remembered handing it to her hours before she had entered the bar. Something I had done to make sure that if Aurelio made me we would both have a way to drive off.
She placed the fob back in her pocket, looking me in the eye at the same time. She pulled to the back of her head in a neat bun, there were no strays which was a skill I assumed she had gained from her previous life as a Marine. She wore natural looking makeup that accentuated her pretty face and downplayed her age.
"Are you going to stare at me or are you going to drive us out of this desert?" I stared for only a second more before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.
I began driving and felt like I was 16 trying to get my license. Parker's presence was critical. She didn't have to speak to make me feel nervous. I was lucky as a rookie to get such an experienced agent watching over me but it was still intimidating to have the woman with the most time spent undercover judging watching my every move.
"How did the night go?" I had only been with her for the planning stages of the mission, so I did not understand how she wanted information. For an agent, the way we presented information was more important than the actual weight of the intelligence we had gathered. If I said something the wrong way or left ambiguity, she would throw away what I knew.
"He's an alcoholic, high functioning but still an alcoholic. His injuries go with the previously made assumption he is a hitman. His home is bigger than what they had reported it to be. This is probably due to it being far away from the road and the trees. I placed the device in soil of a houseplant. We did not have sex because of the drugs you administered to his drink. He wants to see me within two weeks so I consider this mission a success." I looked into the rearview mirror and saw that she was engaged in her phone.
I was unnerved, waiting for her response. I tried to keep my eyes on the road as three minutes passed in silence. "The device you placed should last for up to two weeks. You will have to replace it soon and the area you choose. A potted plant is not the best spot. What if he or his gardener turns over the soil? Also, how did you slip up and give him your name?" Looking into the mirror, I saw that she was scowling.
"It was a slip of the tongue, I said it before, I thought. It won't happen again. There are so many Milo's in the world so he won't be able to find me with just a first name." Her scowl did not drop at my explanation, or more correctly, my excuse.
"I get it. This is your second undercover mission so there will be some slips, but these people are dangerous. We cannot afford for you to make mistakes like that. Understood?" I gulped in air and nodded my head. "I understand."
The drive to the hotel was awkward. I felt like a scolded child and knew that she was categorizing me as an idiot.
"We are only as good as our actions," My father used to say to me. It was a true statement, we could only be seen by our actions. Nobody cared about your intentions because those were hard to conceptualize without bias. You had to show that you were worthy of their time and energy.
We arrived at Parker's hotel only twenty minutes before we had to check out. Parker had taken a cab last night and to the bar. Her vehicle sat in the parking lot to the side of the hotel. When she got out, she circled her car and checked around the exterior before getting in and driving off. We both did not bother bringing our things to the room, in fact all of my things were in my trunk.
We ran off coffee and adrenaline. There was no need for sleep other than the organization stating that we should get as much as possible while working an undercover mission. I drive over to my hotel and checked out before making the three-hour drive back to San Antonio.
My hand reached to turn on music, but I decided to just ride in silence. I thought about Aurelio, in a way that was inappropriate and unethical. He was a deadly man who had treated me sweetly. There was a warmth that he had not hid from me but I could also see the viper that he truly was. He could have killed me if he picked up what I was. It was his arrogance that kept me alive. Why would he assume that I would try to spy on him?
He reminded me of my father. Growing up, I remembered him treating me like a prince. He spoke to me with kindness, and there were always conversations about what and why he made decisions that impacted my life. But he was also a soldier, so there was structure and routine in the home. He never hit me or yelled, but I had seen him go after his men and that was enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.
Before I knew it, I had spent three and a half hours driving in silence. My thoughts were the only thing I could focus on. When I parked at the grocery store, I never had more than a week's worth of food. I parked farther back and touched my face, feeling the tickling sensation of a tear rolling down my face. I wiped it away and focused on the people getting in and out of their cars.
"Bury it," my voice was shaky, so I kept saying the words over and over until my voice was strong. I had not cried in a while and doing what I was doing I couldn't afford to. The life I had chosen was dangerous. I had chosen it for that reason. It kept me from having to deal with the pain. I couldn't deal with the pain.
Like I did everyday I got out of my car and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. If I focused on just making a step and the surrounding people, maybe I could forget reality. It never worked for long, but bandaged did not serve that purpose.