He slapped open a drawer and grabbed a foil packet from inside, rolling it onto himself, and then he was leaning into her, pressing inside her as her hips shifted to the edge of the countertop.
He took her that way, stroking slowly, then faster as the exquisitely sensitive node down there blossomed, opened with each stroke, and then waves of ecstasy obliterated her sight and destroyed her voice and she heard nothing but the rushing of their blood and the pounding of him inside her until she was gone.
Blaze’s fingers gripped her shoulders and her hip, squeezing her flesh and pressing her down as his body jerked inside her, grunting against her shoulder.
“What were you trying to tell me?” he whispered, panting.
Oh, yeah. The airplane.“My aunt and the Koch mercenaries are trying to overthrow our government in early January. Vladimir Lvov is in charge and is funding them to do it, and then they’re going to kill her and install Logan as head of the White Russian bratva.”
“Okay,” Blaze said, dropping a kiss on her shoulder between gasps. “Okay, we’ll deal with that, too.”
28
A ROGUE APP
BLAZE
After Blaze had used his pretty little sub until she was worn out and sleepy, he washed her like the toy she was and tucked her into bed for an afternoon nap.
When she was asleep, he stole back to the bathroom and turned on the shower again to disguise his voice while he made a short call through the Rogue Security communications app on his phone.
The line opened with a click, but no one said anything.
Blaze assumed there was some sort of caller ID in the app, and he had to make this short. “Evacuation plan?”
“In progress,” a man’s voice said in a French-Swiss accent growl that swallowed theR.
“Has contact with the second organization been arranged?”
“Yes. Where can we send the delivery?”
“I will text the address. We need them soon.”
“Arrangements are being made. Delivery within two hours.”
Relief flowed through Blaze, and he slouched against the bathroom wall. “Good. Meeting will be tomorrow afternoon.”
“We’ll be ready.”
And the phone went dead in his hand.
29
NOT A CORSET, BUT REGENCY-ERA STAYS
SARAH
The next morning, Sarah was lying on the bed on her stomach, poking at the dead apps on her phone in a desperate attempt to consume any content, when a hard knock rattled the door.
As Blaze had instructed, she rolled off the side of the mattress onto the floor and dropped her phone into the shag carpet underneath the bed, swapping it for the smaller gun hidden under there.
Blaze was sitting on the white chair in the corner of the blizzard white-out bedroom, supposedly texting about weapons procurement and grimacing at the results.
Instead of Logan’s gruff Russian accent demanding an update on Blaze’s progress on securing the weapons, Micah said with his “New Yawk” accent that he tried to hide, “I’ve got your bag here. What’d you have delivered to my place?”
“Clothes,” Blaze said. “If we’re going to see Mary Varvara Bell this afternoon, I didn’t want to wear these blood-soaked pants again that I’ve been wearing for two days.”
Sarah wanted to ask him if he’d gotten clothes for her, too, but she figured that was something they could talk about after Micah left.
