Mexican Heat: Crimes & Cocktails, Book 1 by Josh Lanyon

Author:Josh Lanyon [Lanyon, Josh]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Morning was painful.

Gabriel’s bruised and battered body felt more sleep-deprived than usual—but then it was more bruised

and battered than usual. He pried one eye open, wincing against the yellow sunshine and birdsong

streaming in through the balcony. From the open doorway he could hear the sounds of the plaza

below—and from next to him, the soft sleep sounds of Ortega.

He turned his head. He was not used to waking up with his sex partners. In fact, he was not used to

falling asleep with them, and if he hadn’t been so drunk and exhausted the night before, and if someone

hadn’t tried to blow him to kingdom come last night, he’d have left after he and Ortega had fucked the

final time. There was something…dangerously intimate about falling asleep with someone you didn’t

know. Especially when what you did know made that other person your enemy.

Ortega’s face was relaxed in sleep. He seemed much younger, and for the first time Gabriel wondered

how old he actually was. Anywhere from thirty-five to forty, he guessed. No longer a young gun, but a

long way from being an old man.

Gabriel studied the unlined face. Ortega’s eyelashes were short and thick, like those of a bull; his

mouth was soft and sensual in sleep; his jaw was heavily shadowed with beard. He had a strong—very

strong—chin, and a nice straight nose. Yes, he was a very handsome man. He felt a sort of softness as he

stared at the lean, tanned, sleeping face—some emotion he couldn’t quite put a name to. Affection?

Tenderness?

No way.

No damn way.

He could not afford to feel anything other than admiration for Ortega’s ability to fuck like a champion.

Because anything else was…fatal. And pointless.

Gabriel could not afford to care. Ortega was going down with the rest of the scum. Sure he had nice

table manners, and he talked about fireflies, and he had sweetly mopped Gabriel’s spent body with a warm

wet cloth after their last fuck—and he had kissed Gabriel’s mouth in that melting, almost loving way—

It meant nothing. Nada. It couldn’t mean anything because they were on opposite sides of the law,

and Gabriel had read Ortega’s file. They didn’t come more evil than Ortega. Poetic shit about fireflies

notwithstanding.

Ortega’s eyelids lifted and his dark eyes were awake and alert. “What’s wrong?” he asked, and his

voice was sleep husky. His mouth curled into a half smile and he touched the frown between Gabriel’s

eyebrows. “What’s troubling you, gatito?”

That light touch on his face…Gabriel closed his eyes, savoring it. Then he opened them. “Nothing.

We have a plane to catch.”

“It’s a private plane. There is no hurry.” His hand stroked Gabriel’s cheek, brushing his rough jaw. His

thumb brushed Gabriel’s lower lip, tracing the line of his mouth. “There is time—”

Gabriel turned his head away and sat up. “I need to get home.”

He could feel Ortega’s silence.

“I do not think Botelli is in any hurry for your return,” Ortega said at last.

Gabriel glanced around. “What’s that mean?”

Ortega said slowly, “I believe Don Jesus will have suggested by now to Señor Botelli that he would

prefer him not to…retain your services.

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