More Mexican Heat snippets for Labor of Love

Okay, my little contribution to the Labor day labor of love marathon is a tiny snippet from Mexican Heat again. It’s still being edited and such but this is a touch of what you can expect from the story. I’m co-writing it with the amazing Josh Lanyon.

No one has to labor more at their confrontational relationship more than these two men. They can’t have each other and refuse to acknowledge they even want more than the one night of lustful lovemaking they shared anonymously before actually meeting during business. Italian crime family hitmen and rival Mexican drug cartel lieutenants do not make the best lovers. Or so they say. What do you think?

Laura

* * * *

They crossed the pristine living room, the walls covered in expensive art, and Gabriel was suddenly reminded of those amazing paintings in the Club Madrone — right before Ortega had made his presence known. Once again he knew a moment’s regret that the hottest sex he’d ever experienced had to be with a drug lord’s second-in-command.
Ortega led him down another hallway, pushed open a door leading onto a bedroom that looked out over the other side of the house: brick terrace, rose gardens and fountains.
Gabriel walked into the bedroom, glancing warily around as Ortega followed him into the room.
Catching the suspicious look, Ortega said, “If I were you, I wouldn’t wander around this house alone. Don Sanchez does not like you.”
“I wasn’t wandering. I was looking for my clothes.”
“Why didn’t you simply ask one of the servants?”
“I didn’t see one.”
Ortega’s smile was frankly disbelieving. “Not that I object to seeing you without clothes,” he remarked. “Your skin is just the color of honey, and I know you taste as sweet.”
Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat, his heart jumping hard against the walls of his ribcage.
“Yeah, well, forget about it,” he got out roughly. Turning, he found his trousers in the neat pile of men’s clothing, and shook them out.
He was used to dressing and undressing in a locker room, but the steady, silent way Ortega watched him made Gabriel self-conscious as he pulled his damp trunks off.
For something to say, he held the wet trunks out, saying, “What am I supposed to do with these?”
Ortega took the wet swim trunks, dropped them on the floor, and pulled Gabriel into his arms. His strong arms wrapped around Gabriel’s back, his naked warm body felt wonderful rubbing against Gabriel’s, his mouth came down on Gabriel’s astonished one, and he tasted like pure, golden, distilled heat. Like sunshine and tequila — only better.
And for one crazy moment, Gabriel grabbed him back, kissed him back. And then he remembered where he was and what Ortega was. He tore free, planting his hands in the bigger man’s furry chest, and shoving him back.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“It hasn’t been that long, surely?” Ortega murmured. His hands gripped Gabriel’s waist and he slammed him back into the nearest wall, pinning him there with his body, chest to chest, one leg shoved between Gabriel’s legs. His mouth found Gabriel’s, and closed it in the most effective way possible.
For a moment Gabriel didn’t even struggle. Then he tore his mouth free.
“Are you crazy?” he hissed. “You’re going to get us both killed.”
“You seem to like taking risks.”
“This isn’t a risk, it’s suicide.” But oh God, it was difficult to ignore that body pressing against his own: the moist mouth a few inches from his own, the soft, furry chest brushing his own sensitized skin, the erection jabbing into his belly — and his own answering poke. Half-heartedly, he attempted to free himself. As much as he enjoyed risky sex, this was madness.
One of Ortega’s big, square hands cupped his jaw, stilling him. He rubbed insinuatingly against Gabriel, and the scent and taste of the older man was intoxicating and infuriating. Espresso-dark eyes held Gabriel’s gaze for so long and so seriously that Gabriel began to forget why this was such a terrible idea.
But as Ortega’s lips sought his own again in a kiss as soft and light as the fall of a shadow, he remembered, and shoved the other man back hard.

Mexican Heat is due out in Late September-ish. We hope.

Written by Laura Baumbach

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