He loosened several knots, along with her shirt.
“You could wait on that until we actually get to the pool.”
“No time like the present.”
As his mouth took hers again, he unbuckled her belt. He felt her heartpounding against his, heard the hum in her throat, felt the give in her body. He changed the angle of the kiss. Deeper, just a little deeper.
His fingers slid down, over her breast, over her belly, over her center, then in.
She came in one quick burst. Before she could draw the next breath, he was inside her.
Pinned to the wall, she could do nothing more than feel. The rush, the heat, the shattering pleasure. Her body pulsed and pumped, greedy for more, on fire now for this fast, fierce mating.
He knew she was lost, felt her trembling surrender to him, to herself, to this dark, drowning need they could bring to each other time after time after time.
When her trousers, her shirt, slid to the elevator floor, his hunger spiked. In a sudden frenzy, he pulled the support tank over her head, tossed it, so she wore only the teardrop diamond on a chain, and her boots.
Eyes on hers, he cupped his hands under her thighs, lifted her. Now she chained around him, arms, legs. Now her lips fused to his as they whipped each other to the edge of madness, and over.
She might have slid bonelessly to the floor, but his body, pressed to hers, kept her upright. Breathless, skin slick with sweat, they held there until he turned his head to brush his lips under her ear.
“More relaxed now, I’ll wager.”
“Did you say something? It’s hard to hear with all these bells ringing. Jesus, we’re still in the elevator. I’m naked in the elevator.”
“Not altogether. You’re still wearing your boots. It’s a fascinating look.”
“Right. I’m going to take them off. And we have to pick up all this stuff.”
“As otherwise, Summerset might come across the scattered clothes and suspect we’ve had sex in the elevator.”
“Well. Yeah.”
She pulled off her boots, gathered them and the clothes in her arms.
“I still want a swim.”
“Then we’ll have one.”
He walked with her through the tropical paradise of plants and vines and flowers to the blue sparkle of the pool.
She dumped the clothes on a chair. “I need to reboot my brain after that.”
“I can help with that as well.”
He scooped her up, kissed her. Then he tossed her, high over that sparkling blue. The sound she made caught somewhere between a scream and a squeal before she hit the water.
She surfaced, shoved her wet hair out of her face. “What are you, twelve?”
“I’ll just have to prove, after we’ve had our swim, I’ve more skill and experience than that.”
Stripping off the rest of his clothes, he dived in after her.
After some laps, some lazy floating, a bout of underwater wrestling, he proved his skill and experience.
She slept, and deeply. Until she dreamed.
Dreaming, she stood at the crime scene that smelled of blood and death. The vault stood open and held its treasures.
