Walker stared down at the darn woman. She’d shown him her ring’s sudden glow and then...put her hands in his pants. Their captors were obviously tuning into their conversation and she was putting on her act again, but she really had the naughtiest hands.
He looked on as she pulled out his garrote wire a couple of inches.
“Oooh, baubles,” she cooed.
Then she worked on his belt, her clever fingers pressing on buttons to release the blades and keys. She had been checking his weapons all along.
He depressed the mechanism. “Kibble Kisses,” he murmured, then using his hand to tilt her chin up, he kissed her.
It seemed the only natural way to continue. In the course of hours, she’d managed to frustrate, intrigue, amuse and fascinate him. She was obviously not who she claimed to be because the training she displayed was too apparent.
He’d lost control of the situation from the get-go, and this seemed one good way to finally get to do the things he wanted. That voice. The way she’d teased and touched him. The flirtatious mouth. God, she had the sexiest mouth. She opened and let him slide his tongue in.
He didn’t have to act, if they really had eavesdroppers. She was all woman in his arms and the dangerous aspect of their situation only added to his desire. Not to mention those hands boldly cupping his erection through his underwear. Then they slipped inside.
Damn.
Fuck.
The cool air teased his released cock, and before he could say another word, he felt his pants being pushed off his hips.
A tight grip surrounded his already semi-aroused state. A few quick jerks was all it needed to take have all the blood eagerly rushing there. After all, his cock had waited all day to play. The grip under the head of his dick tightened unbearably before releasing him. As she’d done all day, she did that to drive him crazy.
Fuck.
Well, two could play at this game. He ran his hands up the supple leather pants that had caught his fascination since the very beginning. They molded to her, like tights, and felt buttery soft to the touch. There were two buttons at the waist. Easy snap-offs. He loved easy snap-offs. He slipped his hands down the cheeks of her ass, the silk lining inside giving way to his search. He pushed and her pants slid down like oil over glass. In the back of his lust-clouded mind, he noted the lady’s clothes probably cost more than a few months of his current salary. These form-fitting huggers were created with maximum comfort in mind, no expenses spared. He could go no further with his appreciation of such fine leather because, except for a skimpy piece of string, she was totally bare. He stared down, feasting on the exposed skin. Lightly tanned thighs. And above it, shaven and gleaming, the V of hotness.
Sweet holy V of hotness.
He lifted her onto the counter and peeled the rest of the pants off. Her legs open wide for him as he unzipped the tapered pant legs. His gaze did not leave the coveted V of hotness. That wispy stringy material didn’t conceal anything at all. Wet. Glistening. Beckoning him. He reached out and cupped her, opening the slick folds.
Did he say he was trying to find some semblance of control?
“Are you sure?” he asked, maybe growled, his tongue feeling thick and uncooperative.
“What do you think they’re thinking we’re doing in here?” She wrapped her long, luscious legs around him. “Honey B—oh!”
Not needing further encouragement, he thrust deep into her pussy, sliding in without preliminaries. His hands smoothed over the crease of her thighs and he teased the sensitive area with his thumbs. She moaned again. He’d be damned to have her call him that during sex. Her tight pussy milked him as he pushed into her, the urgency of their situation second only to his raging need to have an orgasm. She leaned back some more, allowing him deeper access. Her heat gloved him, insistent and demanding. He rubbed his thumbs over her clit. She opened her mouth and he caught her lips with his, swallowing her words and moan. Rule #4 or 5 or 6. No ‘honey bun bunning’ when he was about to come.
She arched up against him as he touched her again. She was extremely sensitive down there. All he needed was to press down lightly—like this— She arched up even more, breaking free from his lips, and he explored her neck.
“More!” she demanded. “Harder!”
Her hands were underneath his mostly undone shirt, her nails lightly scratching down his back. She gave his ass a sharp slap.
He laughed.
It didn’t matter if she was acting or not or even if there were people listening to them. He didn’t care. He pulled her head back, his fingers threading through her silky hair, and nibbled down her neck, her collar bone, all the way down until he sucked her nipples through her shirt and bra. He bit harder through the light material. Her throaty moans aroused him even more.
He pulled the shirt up and her arms went up to help him get it off. The lacy bra opened in the front and he was rewarded with the sight of her breasts, her nipples like sweet strawberries. He suckled on them as his lower body pumped in slow measured strokes.
For months, he hadn’t felt the need to care or feel much about anything. He’d accepted that he was having a tough time trying to adjust to his new life, that it would take time to find himself feeling anything more than the passing emotion.
This felt incredibly real.
The whole day had kept him on the edge, just like old times, and yet, it wasn’t like the old times, when he’d felt betrayed because he couldn’t lift a finger to help in certain situations. Because this woman was there, in control. Because she was unafraid and quite deliberately nonchalant about being in danger. It had challenged him and brought that dead part of him back to life. It’d also not made him feel helpless when he wasn’t in control. She was perfectly capable—whoever she was—.
He resumed kissing up the other side of her neck. “Name, give me a name,” he murmured in her ear. He would not come without knowing her name.
