Demanding? Her hips and hands were moving against him in the most urgent way. Aroused? There really was no mistaking the warm blush of passion that made her skin rosy.
“Wet.” This time she finished a sentence for him. And boy howdy, what a finish it was! The top of his skull felt like it exploded, and at the same time, the head of his dick released another drop of moisture.
“Christ, Olivia,” he groaned. “I need to look at you. I’ve fantasized so long about lookin’ at you. Seein’ you. Havin’ nothing between us.”
He didn’t wait for her approval, simply yanked one cup of her bra down and marveled at the berry-colored nipple that sprang into view. Her breast was heavier at the bottom than the top, making the peak point upward, as if challenging him to resist it.
He couldn’t.
He plucked at the tender bud with his thumb and forefinger, fascinated to see her areola tighten and crinkle until her entire nipple grew hard and engorged.
“Leo, please,” she gasped. Her body bowed, becoming a graceful arc of feminine surrender. And that went to his head like a double shot of top-shelf whiskey, dazzling him, making him burn. Brave, strong, tough Olivia Mortier, spy extraordinaire, was surrendering to him. He was so overcome by the need to beat his chest Tarzan-style and lift his face to let loose with that famous yell that he figured he needed to find a better use for his mouth lest he scare her the hell away.
And three guesses what “better use” he came up with.Ofcourse, the first two guesses don’t count.
Dropping his chin, he sucked that sweet peak into his mouth. Her nails bit into his scalp, her ankle hooking behind his knee to better align their bodies, and then—
“Ahem!” A loud throat-clearing came from the stairwell outside the galley.
Olivia squeaked—a very un-CIA-agent-y sound—and pulled back.Ow!Leo was pretty sure her fingers took a hunk of his hair along with them. But that wasn’t nearly as heartbreaking as having her delectable nipple pop free of his lips. In a flash, she yanked her bra cup up over her amazing breast and tugged her tank top back into place.
“Nowthat’sa goddamn cryin’ shame,” he grumped, adding, “and I’m goin’ tokillwhoever that is.”
“If there’s any ax waxing going on down there”—Bran. Leo should have known. The guy had theworsttiming—“I’m sorry to say, but it needs to be red-lighted right now!”
“Ax waxing?” Olivia lifted a brow, her voice low and breathless. Leo noticed with more than a little regret the passion-heightened color of the skin over her cheeks and chest, and the glossy shine of her kiss-swollen lips. Yep. Bran was a dead man. “What’s he talking about?”
Leo rolled his eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“Because Agent Mortier’s boss is on the satphone!” Bran added. “He says there’s a problem with the contractors’ boat.”
“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy,” Olivia harrumphed, pushing past Leo and heading for the stairs. “What else can go wrong?”
“Famous last words,” he muttered. And without her tender heat pressed against the length of him, he felt unaccountably cold. Grabbing his sunglasses off the table, he hooked the earpiece over the collar of his shirt before glancing over his shoulder to stare at her retreating back. His eyes were no doubt broody as he watched her disappear through the doorway. The last thing he saw was the gun shoved into a holster at the small of her waist above the round curve of her ass. Obviously, his expression became evenmoremalevolent when Bran took her place in the opening.
“Don’t gimme that look, you bigspostata,” Bran warned. “I tried telling Morales she was otherwise occupied, but he was having none of it. Besides”—Bran glanced around the room—“the galley, bro? The place where we clean fish?Thisis where you chose to bump uglies with Olivia? I mean, you remember last week Meat got seasick and upchucked his kibble along with about five gallons of undigested water weeds in here, right?”
“I didn’tchooseit,” Leo grumbled. “It just…sort of…happened.” Like the last time. It was as if they were a couple of tectonic plates, the tension that hummed between them growing and growing untilsnap!The pressure erupted and they were helpless to do anything about it, caught up in its fury and power and swept along in its path.
Bran’s face split into a wide grin, his lids flying at half-mast. “You’re having all the smutty, sexy feels for her, aren’t you?”
“I swear to Christ, man. Sometimes I think you’re just a potato with four limbs.”
“If you’re gonna insult me”—Bran’s grin remained in place—“at least get it right. I’m a reallywell-hungpotato with four limbs.”
“How about I go with something simpler and just call you an asshat?”
“That’s Lord Asshat of Bigdicksburg to you, my friend.”
Leo shook his head, sticking his tongue in his cheek because it was obvious Bran’s internal switch was flipped back to its usual devil-may-care position. In which case, it was impossible to get one over on the guy, so he might as well quit trying.
“I sort of like that,” Bran continued. “Maybethatshould be the name of our company. Asshat Salvage or maybe Bigdicksburg Salvage. Has a certain ring, doesn’t it?”
“You’re worse than Romeo.” Leo turned to follow Olivia up to the wheelhouse.
He’d gone no more than two steps when Bran squawked, “For crying out loud!” He held his hands up in front of his face. “I don’t wanna see that! Warn a guy next time, will you?”
Leo looked down to discover his erection had turned the front of his swim trunks into a Boy Scout pup tent.
