“Of course. And you are responsible men. But I am simply a lost woman, who is all alone and now very curious. Certainly there would be no harm in letting me peek? And it will…what is the word? Arouse me to see it.”
The two men exchanged a glance. Then they grinned at one another.
“All right, baby. Just a peek. You’ll reward us for it?”
She smiled their way. “Of course.”
The dark man punched numbers into the keypad, releasing the lock on the temperature-controlled unit. The other guy helped him push the door up. The lights flashed on. And there sat Geraldo Montilla’s prized possession, shiny, pristine, and candy-apple red.
Laila gasped and touched her chest again. “Que carro más lindo.”
“Huh?” The blond guy frowned.
“What a beautiful car,” she supplied as she sauntered closer. “The more I look at it, the more I become”—she licked her lips, then bit the bottom one as if she held in a secret she could keep no more—“wet. Who will help me with that?”
“I will,” the bearded man volunteered a split second later.
The bigger man elbowed him. “Don’t you have a girlfriend? Besides, she’s too much woman for you. I got her.”
She laid her fingers on his brown chest with a sultry smile. When he started preening, she did the same to the blond man. “I am feeling…adventurous. There is enough of me to go around.”
The blue-eyed man swallowed hard. “You think you can take us both?”
“I want to try.” She ran her hand along the side of the sleek red car, silently marveling at how truly stunning the vehicle was. Then she bent over the hood and stuck her ass in the air. “I think I would like it.”
If they crowded around her, they’d both be distracted. They would also have their backs to Victor, who now had an open path to sneak in and knock them out. That would do nicely.
“Hmm, baby.” The big one gripped her hips and notched his erection against her backside.
Laila held in a tremor of distaste. She did not want anyone’s hands on her except Trees’s.
“Not here, dude.” The other guy bobbed his pale head toward the corner of the garage.
She followed the gesture and tried not to wince. Cameras. Carajo! Hopefully, when Montilla saw this footage, he would not recognize her. After all, the last time they met she had barely been more than a child, and he’d treated her as if she was beneath his notice, thank God.
The bigger man stepped back and grabbed her arm. “He’s right. Damn it.”
Laila turned and buried her face in the man’s neck and pretended to breathe him in. He smelled like sweat and testosterone. Then she repeated the gesture with the bearded man, who also smelled of cigarettes.
She tried not to choke. “Let us go to the guard shack, then. I am impatient.”
“Good call. Follow me.” The big one dragged her out of the garage, around the corner, then down a narrow alley before the darkened guard shack came into view.
“Wait!” the blond guy protested, lagging behind. “We’re not supposed to leave the garage open. Anyone could come in and steal the car.”
Mr. Wifebeater rolled his eyes. “Who do you think is around to do that? It’s not even five o’clock in the morning. The partiers left a few hours ago, and the business heads won’t be here until after sunup. It’ll be fine for a few minutes.”
“But—”
“She’s wet,” he reminded through gritted teeth. “I’m not giving up good pussy for this shitty-paying temp job. But you feel free to stay.”
“I need you both,” she whined. “Please.”
With a long sigh, the blond guy shook his head and grumbled. “I’m probably going to hell, but fuck it.”
Then he stomped after them.
Victor better move quickly, because Laila doubted she could put these two off for long, and she refused to get naked and spread her legs.
When they reached the guard shack, she held back, pursing her lips and batting her lashes. “Turn on the lights first. I am afraid of the dark.”
At least that much was true.
The big man hustled in and felt around for the switch.
The blond guy looked shocked. “You want the lights on while we fuck you?”
She dragged a finger over the curve of her breast. “Do you not wish to see all of me? I want to see you.”
Despite the fact she nearly choked on the lie, he gave her a bug-eyed head bob and raced into the guard shack, right behind his partner.
She gave them a come-hither smile—then slammed the door, grabbing the flag that proclaimed this the sector twelve security station from its nearby holder. With shaking hands, she shoved the fat pole between the long pull and the door itself, jamming it tight. This wouldn’t hold for more than a minute or two.
Laila hoped that would be enough.
At once, they began beating on the door while glaring out the windows at her.
“What the fuck?”
“Let us out, bitch!”