>Carlos pulls a giggling Vanessa over the threshold by the hand and slams it shut behind him. She jumps a little. Her big eyes pop open in surprise and her hand splays over her chest. “Oh, quierda. You scared me.”

Leaning back against the heavily carved front door to his bungalow, Carlos braces Vanessa’s small waist between his hands and tugs her between his thighs. Their hips bump, meet and settle into the fit. He’s already hard beneath his jeans and the friction shoots a sizzle of excitment to his brain, or brains–both big and little. “Sorry. You make me lose my head.”

He chuckles at his own joke, until her warm, soft chest cuddles up to his. Those dark, dark eyes of hers stare up through lashes as thick as bangs and Carlos’ chest squeezes hard. He skims the back of his knuckles over her high cheekbone, memorizing her face, the look of hero worship in her eyes.

Is this how Rio feels when Cassie looks at him?

Maybe The Basement is worth the sacrifices of a hero.

Vanessa stretches up Carlos’ body, and the pressure makes him suck in a breath. Then she takes his lower lip between her teeth, holds it there gently, while intense, seductive eyes lock on his.

The phone at Carlos’ waistband vibrates. Vanessa jumps, leans back and looks down at it.

“Christ,” Carlos mutters. “What now?” Without releasing her, he flips the phone open. “She’d better not have let him out of there already or I might start acting up.”

Where the hell are you? the text reads.

Tension escapes Carlos’ shoulders as he closes the phone and tosses it on a nearby chair, hands firm on Vanessa’s waist again.

“Trouble?” she asks.

“No, quierda.” Carlos dips his head to kiss her, long and slow. She tastes like tropical fruit and woman. Sweet and wild. “No trouble.”

>Carlos pulls a giggling Vanessa over the threshold by the hand and slams it shut behind him. She jumps a little. Her big eyes pop open in surprise and her hand splays over her chest. “Oh, quierda. You scared me.”

Leaning back against the heavily carved front door to his bungalow, Carlos braces Vanessa’s small waist between his hands and tugs her between his thighs. Their hips bump, meet and settle into the fit. He’s already hard beneath his jeans and the friction shoots a sizzle of excitment to his brain, or brains–both big and little. “Sorry. You make me lose my head.”

He chuckles at his own joke, until her warm, soft chest cuddles up to his. Those dark, dark eyes of hers stare up through lashes as thick as bangs and Carlos’ chest squeezes hard. He skims the back of his knuckles over her high cheekbone, memorizing her face, the look of hero worship in her eyes.

Is this how Rio feels when Cassie looks at him?

Maybe The Basement is worth the sacrifices of a hero.

Vanessa stretches up Carlos’ body, and the pressure makes him suck in a breath. Then she takes his lower lip between her teeth, holds it there gently, while intense, seductive eyes lock on his.

The phone at Carlos’ waistband vibrates. Vanessa jumps, leans back and looks down at it.

“Christ,” Carlos mutters. “What now?” Without releasing her, he flips the phone open. “She’d better not have let him out of there already or I might start acting up.”

Where the hell are you? the text reads.

Tension escapes Carlos’ shoulders as he closes the phone and tosses it on a nearby chair, hands firm on Vanessa’s waist again.

“Trouble?” she asks.

“No, quierda.” Carlos dips his head to kiss her, long and slow. She tastes like tropical fruit and woman. Sweet and wild. “No trouble.”

>While the here is away, the secondary characters will play.

***

Carlos drags up a stool at Hussongs’ bar and eyes that darling waitress he comes in here to see. One look at Vanessa and his day is made.

“Hola, quierda,” she says with a hand on his shoulder and that smile that could melt steel. “What can I get you?”

He wraps her fingers in his and lifts her hand to his mouth. “Are we talking personally or professionally here?”

Her black eyes spark. She laughs, soft and a little shy, then darts a look at the back door. “Your friend, he’s coming, no?”

Carlos’s shoulders sink. Yeah. Rio is on his way. Dammit, Carlos isn’t even the frigging hero in this story, yet he gives up just as much as Rio, but doesn’t get the billing of hero.

She better give him his own book, that’s all he could say.

“Si,” Carlos breathed against her hand. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her fingers slip from his and skim his jaw, caress the edge of his ear. Shivers tickle his neck, his head tips into her touch.

His cell vibrates. “Goddammit.”

He snaps it off his belt as Vanessa grins, lifts a shoulder in an oh-well gesture and sashays toward the other end of the bar.

Carlos looks at the screen. “This had better be good.”

Tick Calvert here. I’m texting on behalf of Rio. Seems he has no cell connection through cinder block walls. That’s what happens when you use substandard service like Altel. Save a few bucks, lose service. I’m sure that’s the best ICE could afford, Homeland Security being under public scrutiny and all. Y’all come over to the Feds and get Verizon and a Blackberry. Now thems digs. Anyway, he says to tell you to get your sorry ass over here and get him out. I second the motion. He’s a wet blanket.

Carlos frowns. Reads the message again. A tingle stirs in his chest, and with it a low chuckle. Within seconds, Carlos is slapping his knee, howling with laughter.

“That is one part of being a hero I’m not missing.” When he catches his breath, he finds Vanessa looking at him with wide eyes, confused. He stuffs his phone away and waves her over. “Come here, quierda. the way She works, we’ve got lots of time together.”

>While the here is away, the secondary characters will play.

***

Carlos drags up a stool at Hussongs’ bar and eyes that darling waitress he comes in here to see. One look at Vanessa and his day is made.

“Hola, quierda,” she says with a hand on his shoulder and that smile that could melt steel. “What can I get you?”

He wraps her fingers in his and lifts her hand to his mouth. “Are we talking personally or professionally here?”

Her black eyes spark. She laughs, soft and a little shy, then darts a look at the back door. “Your friend, he’s coming, no?”

Carlos’s shoulders sink. Yeah. Rio is on his way. Dammit, Carlos isn’t even the frigging hero in this story, yet he gives up just as much as Rio, but doesn’t get the billing of hero.

She better give him his own book, that’s all he could say.

“Si,” Carlos breathed against her hand. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her fingers slip from his and skim his jaw, caress the edge of his ear. Shivers tickle his neck, his head tips into her touch.

His cell vibrates. “Goddammit.”

He snaps it off his belt as Vanessa grins, lifts a shoulder in an oh-well gesture and sashays toward the other end of the bar.

Carlos looks at the screen. “This had better be good.”

Tick Calvert here. I’m texting on behalf of Rio. Seems he has no cell connection through cinder block walls. That’s what happens when you use substandard service like Altel. Save a few bucks, lose service. I’m sure that’s the best ICE could afford, Homeland Security being under public scrutiny and all. Y’all come over to the Feds and get Verizon and a Blackberry. Now thems digs. Anyway, he says to tell you to get your sorry ass over here and get him out. I second the motion. He’s a wet blanket.

Carlos frowns. Reads the message again. A tingle stirs in his chest, and with it a low chuckle. Within seconds, Carlos is slapping his knee, howling with laughter.

“That is one part of being a hero I’m not missing.” When he catches his breath, he finds Vanessa looking at him with wide eyes, confused. He stuffs his phone away and waves her over. “Come here, quierda. the way She works, we’ve got lots of time together.”