Deadly Fear (Deadly 1) - Page 40/83

He soaped his hands, then reached for her br**sts. “Thought I’d help clean you.” Not so smooth. His voice came out like a bear growl but her soft flesh was beneath his hands and her ni**les were pebble hard and he wanted.

Her hands skated down his chest. “Come on, don’t think you’re having all the fun.” She took the soap from the cracked tray and lathered her own hands.

Then she started with his ni**les. Started there, but made a swift trip down his abs and lower to the c**k that stretched eagerly toward her.

One tight pump of her hands. Another. The soap had made her hold slick and his length slid easily in her grasp as she stroked again and again. Base to tip, base to tip.

Two could play. The water beat over him, washing away the soap from his hands. The spray fell, not stinging his flesh, but warming him. Heating flesh already hot. Slowly, his fingers caressed down her body, and searched out her core.

She widened her stance. Let him in with a quick gasp. Her folds were slick from the shower and her own arousal. It would be so easy to lift her up. To take her against the shower wall with the water pounding down around them. As easy as taking her last night, but they were going slow now. The touches were soft. Tender. Their mouths touched. No voracious hunger this time. The lust was still there, but easy. Gentle.

He should have been gentle with her before but the fury of need had always swept through him, and his control was shot to hell. Now—this was different.

He’d f**king keep his control. This time, for her.

For her.

He kissed her, and swept his tongue against hers, enjoying her moans and most definitely loving the firm grip of her hands. The need built. The pleasure grew, and he touched her. Everywhere.

His fingers swept over her. Luke found the button of her need. He stroked the way she liked. Pushed inside of her. Not too fast. Not too deep. Just enough to make the hunger sharpen.

The base of his spine tightened. His climax was coming, but he wanted to be in her. Needed her flesh surrounding him, clenching and holding so tight.

He lifted her hands away. Careful. Luke positioned his c**k against her. Pushed through those wet curls so he could feel her slick heat. There. Right there. What he needed. So close. Bare, sweet—

Bare.

His back teeth clenched. “Condom.”

Monica laughed. Laughed. Then slipped from his hands and eased from the shower. He saw her ass. That perfect, heart-shaped ass that liked to torment his dreams and give him hard-ons. Fuck. His gaze followed the smooth line of her spine, leading up to her wet mane of—

What was that?

The mark below her left shoulder blade. Her scar. This was the first time he’d ever seen it in the light, and it looked wrong. Raised flesh, in perfect circles. Hard to see completely in the steam but—

In a flash, Monica spun around to face him, and the laughter was gone from her eyes. Fear flashed in her blue gaze. Stark and sudden.

What? Why was she—

She reached for him, grabbing his arm and hauling him from the shower. She kissed him. No more tenderness. No more sweet licks.

Hard. Deep. Craving. Lusting.

If this is what she wants…

He’d always give her what she wanted.

His c**k pushed against her. His arms locked around her, and he lifted her up, carrying her back to the bedroom.

To the condom.

They made it to the bed, barely. She was biting, sucking his lower lip and driving him insane.

She tore open the condom. Slid it over his c**k with gripping hands and make-me-come touches.

Then she straddled him. “Now.”

Took him.

A swift downward thrust of her hips. Her eyes locked on his. Blind with need. Just as he knew his must be.

No more fear. Fear—why—

Her sex squeezed him. She rose, going up on her knees, and the head of his c**k thrust against the opening of her sex.

Then down. Fast. Balls-deep in a move that had her muscles rippling around him. So tight. Perfect.

Luke stopped thinking and just felt.

Her. Flesh on flesh. Sweet cream. Warm woman.

Moving fast, the rhythm wild and driving as they fought for release. The mattress squeaked, louder than her moans, and her br**sts rose, bouncing lightly, and he had to have a nipple in his mouth.

His lips closed over her breast just as her climax ripped through her. Her sex contracted, milking his length as she came—

And he came, erupting, within her. “Monica!” A roar that burst from him.

So long. The pleasure wrung through him. Every muscle, every cell. So. Fucking. Good.

Their breaths panted out. His heart pounded like a freaking drum. And he could taste her.

Her sex trembled around him. So good.

But when the waves of release began to slowly ebb, he was left with a memory. Not of wild heat, or of a lust that couldn’t be sated.

One of fear in desperate blue eyes.

“You know, some folks like to sleep at night,” Kenton said, his voice gruff as he held a steaming cup of coffee real close to his face. “I mean, damn, you know—sleep, sometime, right?”

Monica blinked and vaguely remembered a sleepy voice shouting, “Keep that crap down.”

Oh, she was screwed. “Just where’s your motel room located, Kenton?”

One brow rose and he stared back at her. “I’m Room 103.”

And she was 102. Perfect.

He took a quick sip of the coffee. “Freaking rabbits.”

“Don’t.” Luke’s voice. Vibrating with fury. He’d come up silently behind Kenton, and yeah, he’d heard everything. Just like Kenton had last night. “You don’t even want to go there,” Luke warned.

“I did.” Kenton’s gaze cut to her. Monica held perfectly still. She kept her eyes open, and her expression clear. “Lucky bastard.” His lips thinned. “How’s that arm, Davenport? You didn’t… ah, do any more damage to it last night?”

She’d all but forgotten her arm. “It’s fine.” She needed to breathe. How could I have forgotten about him? Those walls were paper-thin. Of course, Kenton had heard them. He’d go back to Hyde and tell him about her and Luke.

She sucked in a deep breath. Didn’t matter. She’d planned to tell Hyde as soon as she got back to D.C. Luke was right; she had a lot of rules in her life. Rule number one—the only one that she always followed—she didn’t keep secrets from Hyde. Never had. Never would. Luke was on his team. Hyde would know.

“Get a different room tonight,” Luke advised him, as a muscle flexed along his jaw.

“Aw, come on, that is just—”