by Norris, Kris
For her.
Six nuzzled her neck, nipping gently at the muscle and damn it shouldn’t make her that hot. That distracted. “I might not be able to read you—read us—like I normally can. But I can feel your muscles tensing. Feel your heart rate kick up.”
He released her enough to spin her in his arms—reclaim his hold. “Don’t think about tomorrow. Or next week. How we’re going to stop McCormick and Slader. Stay here. In this moment, with me. Because that’s all we’re promised, Kam. This moment. And I don’t want anything else intruding on it. Not when I finally have you in my arms. No future. No past. Just us. Here. Now.”
Casey O’Reilly was going to be her undoing. And she was going to love every second of it. Love him.
Kam smiled, tracing the strong line of his jaw. “Were you always this charming?”
“Not in the least. But, several months of being teamed up with this kickass chick who’s got more compassion and honor than anyone else I’ve ever met—who also happens to have haunted my dreams for longer than I care to admit to—seems to have had an effect on me.”
“Is that so?” She rubbed her groin across his erection, grinning at his sharp inhalation. “Let’s see if I can have another effect on you.” She tip-toed up. Nipped at his lower lip. “Bet I can bring you to your knees, soldier. And yes, Casey. That was a challenge.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer. He didn’t need to. His desire was in his eyes. In the way his fingers flexed against her skin. How he clenched his jaw, inhaling roughly before slowly hissing it out. He was riding that edge he’d mentioned previously. And she wanted nothing more than to tip him over it.
Casey watched—eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as his chest heaved from his increased breath. Never altering his gaze as Kam grabbed the soap—spread the lather across his body. Christ, the man was built. Thick, rippling muscles, hard chiseled abs—he looked like a model from a fitness magazine. Except for the lethal gleam in his eyes. The deadly way he carried himself. No one would have mistaken him for a model.
Assassin. Definitely. Mercenary. Absolutely. Any profession that involved danger. That could get a person killed, Casey O’Reilly fit to a tee. Though, the way he was staring at her, now, only made her realize how hot it was in the glass enclosure. How much her damn body ached to have him back inside her. Once hadn’t been close to enough.
Kam finished washing them, grinning to herself when he grunted as she cleaned his groin. He was hard, again. Thick. The wide head already leaking more fluid. The perfect setting to begin her seduction.
His skin beaded as she lightly scraped her nails down his ribs, slowly sinking to her knees. Firm muscles flexed beneath her touch, outlining the strong lines in his thighs.
“God, Casey, there isn’t an inch of you that’s soft.” She glanced up at him. Winked. “Though, I plan on focusing on several specific inches.”
Another grunt followed by a hiss of breath. “Careful, sweetheart, or you’ll find our positions reversed.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat? Because I’d thoroughly enjoy grinding my cleft on your face. Definitely a sword I can fall on… You know. For the team.”
“Kameron…”
The way he said her name… All raspy. Guttural. As if he’d had to reach inside and claw it free with his hands. Force his mouth to form the syllables. It had arousal coating her skin. Need pulsing low in her core. She’d be more than ready for another round by the time she’d gotten him off. Made him lose that precious control of his. He’d claimed she’d already tested it. Now, she wanted to see the proof.
Preferably painted across her chest.
Six gathered her wet hair in one hand, holding it back as she smoothed her palms along his thighs, teasing the base of his shaft with her thumbs. The gentle contact made his length bob up toward his stomach, staying proudly attentive for several seconds before gradually lowering, again.
Now, he was hers.
She started slowly. Just touching him with her fingers. Running her hand up and down—reveling in the contrast of smooth and hard. The warmth of his skin. A tug of her hair had her leaning in—taking him inside her mouth.
That earned her a hiss. A scrape of his fingers along her scalp. As if he couldn’t quite stop himself from completely fisting her hair. Was already losing that control he worshipped.
Good, because she was already gone. And she wanted—no, needed to believe he was just as lost. Just as invested. And while she wanted to stay in the moment with him, she also wanted to believe she wasn’t the only one hoping this was the start of the next sixty years. That he wanted to spend every night with her, the way she did with him.
Another tug. Harder than before. She glanced up. Nearly came because what she saw… His eyes squeezed shut. Nostrils flared. Red slashes across his cheeks as he pressed his lips together. Whether to prevent him from shouting out or an attempt to stave off his release, she wasn’t sure. But it spurred her on. Had her moving faster. Long, quick strokes. Added pressure from her tongue. Her fingers pumping the area she couldn’t reach.
Six’s thighs clenched. The muscles in his abdomen tensing. Creating shadows along the bands. He tightened his hold, hips starting up a counter rhythm. He was metering his thrusts. Trying not to choke her with his size. But she didn’t need him to hold back. She wanted reckless abandon. Wanted him flying apart. Shattered like she’d been as she’d crested earlier.
Kam worked him harder. Using every trick she knew to push him over. His motions lost any sense of rhythm. Grew frantic. Rushed. Until he was claiming her mouth like he’d claimed her body. Full force. She used her free hand to massage his sac—take him that last bit over the edge.
He grunted. Loud. Then stopped. Dragging his cock free of her hold before grabbing her elbows and lifting her off her knees. He planted her ass on the small ledge on the wall of the shower, using his massive size to pin her against it as he wedged himself between her thighs.
Another hissed out breath, then his forehead connecting with hers. His fingers digging into the sides of her hips as he flattened her against him. “God, Kam…”
Took him several rough breaths before he groaned out another sound. “I know you wanted. It’s just…”
More breathing. More flexing of his fingers. “I need more.” He lifted his head. Looked directly into her eyes. “Need you.”
No doubt about it. Kam was lost. And she never wanted anyone to find her.
She palmed his face. Stroked her thumbs along the corners of his mouth. “Then, take me because I’m yours. Have been since you pulled out half your stitches to try and save me. I just didn’t know it, yet.”
He froze. That’s the only way Kam could describe his reaction. He just stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Gaze still pinned on her. Mouth slightly open. His hands half-fisted against her sides.
Then, his mouth crushing down on hers. Fingers curling around her thighs, holding her open as he slid home. No tentative strokes. A small push in, then out. Just one strong thrust and he was fully inside her, skin against skin. His breath washing over her shoulder. His chest heaving against hers. Then, another pause. As if he was waiting to judge her reaction. See if she was on board. If he’d been too enthusiastic. If, maybe, she really did want romance, despite what she’d claimed.
Kam locked her ankles around his back—tilted into him then hung on. Hands hugging his sides. Forehead resting against his shoulder.
That’s all the encouragement he needed.
Six’s fingers dug into her muscles as he started moving. Fast then faster. Each pass harder than the last until he was pounding into her. Skin slapping together. Hearts racing. If she’d thought he’d been eager against the door, this made that encounter seem casual. Just a slow, easy coupling.
Now, he was raw. Unfettered. Almost brutal in his urgency. And she reveled in it. In his loss of control. The way his need took precedence. A few minutes into it, and she was soaring. That coil in her core whirling tight. Threatening to unleash with every stroke.
&nbs
p; Kam held on. Mouthing his flesh to keep from screaming. From begging him to give her just a bit more—though, she wasn’t sure she’d survive any more. To keep from shouting out her love. A part of her wanted to, consequences be damned.
Six released one thigh and slid his hand between them—found her clit. One flick had her inhaling—legs squeezing harder around his hips. Another, and that breath was held. Every muscle clenched tight as heat gathered low in her belly. Started swirling around that ball of sensation. A few more, and she was actively trying not to come. Fighting the rush of fire. The overwhelming sensation of falling. She had a few seconds of staving it off—hanging on that ledge she’d wanted to push him over.
Then, she was falling. Breaking apart. Shattering into a thousand pieces. Hell, she might be dying because it was all blinding white light and speckled dots. Rolling waves of heat as his name tore from her chest. Bouncing off the glass door—drowning beneath the sound of the water splashing against the walls. Six grunting through the contractions rippling through her sex.
He kept moving. Drew her orgasm out until she wasn’t sure she’d remain conscious. That she could keep her eyes open. Another guttural moan, then, he was coming. Jerky thrusts of his hips as he growled her name, finally stopping, lodged deep. The sheer weight of him keeping her pinned to the wall—her ass on that stupidly small ledge.
Six stayed that way—keeping the two of them together. Warm water washing over their skin. Steam making the air thick. Heavy. Or maybe it was her limbs that were heavy. Her eyelids, too, because she was finding it hard to do anything other than lean against Casey. Rely on him to keep them from sliding to the floor.
A rough breath then a sigh. “Kam? Sweetheart are you okay?”
She hummed, managed to look up at him through fluttering eyelashes because, damn, she was tired. Thoroughly spent. “Perfect.”
A small frown. “Are you sure? That…” He shook his head. “I’ve never been that far gone before. Christ, what you do to me.”
“Positive. But sleepy. I hope you still have some strength left or we’ll be spending the night in here.”
That luscious mouth kicked up, and she swore he beamed. Actually glowed as if she’d set off some inner beacon. Like a lighthouse, only it didn’t rotate. Just stayed fixed on her. “I’ve got you. Let’s just rinse off, then it’s into bed.”
“Mmm. I like the sound of that.”
“Oh no. No more playing until you’ve gotten some sleep and don’t look like you’re dead on your feet.”
“Technically, you’re still holding me up. And if this is what the afterlife is like, I’m all for it.”
He snorted, eased free—looking as if simply pulling out of her hurt—then grabbed the soap. He mimicked her previous washing, his touch light. Soothing. Kam closed her eyes, sinking against him only to blink as he placed her gently on the bed.
She inhaled, scanning the room. “Oh, god. Did I seriously fall asleep on my feet? In the shower?”
He smiled. “Afraid so. Guess I really wiped you out.”
“Great. Not embarrassing at all.”
“Hey.” He cupped her chin. “It’s me. Nothing between us is embarrassing. In fact, knowing I pushed you that far is quite the ego boost. You need anything before I join you?”
“Just you. But you have to promise to stay. No sneaking out to do some midnight recon with Crow.”
“Do I look like the kind of man who’d do that?”
She merely stared at him. Brow arched.
He chuckled. “You’re not wrong. But Gibson already said he’d put us into the rotation tomorrow.” He grabbed something off the side table, fiddled with the mattress, then lifted the covers—gathered her in his arms as he snuggled against her. Held her tight. As if she’d fly apart without him, which was too damn close to the truth. “So, I’m all yours.”
Hell, yeah, he was. And she’d do everything she could to see it stayed that way. Make this arrangement a permanent fixture in her life because tonight had brought everything into focus. And Casey O’Reilly was at the center of it.
Chapter Seventeen
I’m yours…
And she’d meant it. Had been completely sincere. Six wasn’t proud to say he’d been judging her reaction. To see if her eyes darted one way or another. If her breath hitched even a fraction. If the pulse thrumming against his chest altered in the least. Something to suggest she was merely telling him what he wanted to hear.
But all he’d registered was the gleam in her eyes. The total lack of barriers. She’d been an open book. Completely exposed. And she’d been telling the truth.
Six gathered her a bit closer, inhaling the fresh scent of the soap on her skin. The underlying hint of arousal. Christ, he hadn’t even tasted her, yet. An oversight he’d correct. Soon. And if she hadn’t passed out in his arms from sheer exhaustion, he would have ducked beneath the covers and licked her dry right then.
But there had been no missing the bruised look beneath her eyes. How she’d fallen asleep in the space of a heartbeat. In fact, she’d only roused enough between the bathroom and the bedroom to warn him not to sneak out on her before drifting off in his arms, again. Even now, she barely moved, just the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his palm.
It still seemed surreal. Having her here. Nestled in his arms the way he’d imagined a thousand times over the past few months. The soft whisper of breath. The way her body fit perfectly against his. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting other than one hell of a ride. What he’d gotten had been so much more. He’d wanted to blow away her expectations but hadn’t expected her to decimate his. He’d known from just that one kiss in the bathroom that she’d be better than any fantasy he’d conjured in his dreams. But actually making love to Kam…
He’d never given so much of himself. Felt so connected, especially when he was still stumbling blindly ahead. Questioning every move because he hadn’t had another flash about their future, yet.
During their escape? Sure. And he’d used them to keep her ass in one piece. Keep her safe. But she’d been in his arms for over an hour, and he hadn’t glimpsed a single hint of where their relationship was heading.
He’d never gone ten minutes with a lover and not experienced some type of foreshadowing. A peek at the end. Having none with Kam had to mean something. Had to be a sign. Didn’t it?
Sign or not, he was already in too deep to worry about escaping. He didn’t want to escape. And if being with her gave him a respite from his sixth sense—a chance at living out this one aspect of his life without any sort of advanced knowledge—he’d risk it. Hell, he’d crave it because that element of surprise—of wondering what she was thinking then discovering he’d underestimated her—was intoxicating. It was like being blinded but freed at the same time.
Kam twitched in her sleep, mumbling his name before burrowing slightly into him, then drifting off, again. Six smiled, did one last run-through of his mental checklist—no odd sounds, no time leaks indicating that anyone was about to bust into their safehouse, no Crow or Gibson charging toward the door—then closed his eyes. His buddies would ensure they were safe, at least for one night. And Gibson had been right, earlier. It had been a long few days, and Six wouldn’t be much help if he started falling asleep on his feet.
He let himself fade, subconsciously primed if Kam made any kind of sound. A cough. A gasp. Hell, an unusual inhalation, and he’d be alert. Up and palming the Sig he’d shoved under the mattress before climbing in beside her. Nothing was getting past him.
Having warm, soft lips brush over his was unexpected. Jolted him awake. Had him levering up—grabbing the body next to him.
Kam inhaled, then chuckled, smiling at him as he hovered over her, her lithe body trapped beneath his. “Guess what they say about not waking a warrior is true.”
Six released a slow breath, shaking his head. “There are armed men gunning for you. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t wake up ready for a fight.”
She arc
hed a brow. “Is that what last night was? You doing your job?”
And this was a perfect example of when his damn sixth sense should be kicking in because he couldn’t tell if she was kidding or serious. Maybe a bit of both. If she really did have doubts about his feelings, or if she was just yanking on his chain as a bit of payback for all of his alpha moments, yesterday. When he had shoved her behind his back.
Which meant, he had to resort to the only trick left in his arsenal—the truth. Or at least, a portion of it. He wasn’t sure he was ready to say those three little words out loud to her. If they’d soothe her or scare the crap out of her, the way they did him. Because admitting he loved her was the point of no return. Of obliterating any chance at resurrecting their previous life—as friends. Colleagues. Teammates.
Good. He didn’t want to go back. Resurrect anything because she was his future. He just prayed she felt the same. Because trying to imagine his life without her in it hurt. Right in the center of his chest. Made it hard to breathe. And he knew if he screwed this up, she’d bolt. Jump ship and he’d never see her, again.
Six leaned closer, staying only a breath away. “Last night was me falling even harder than I already have. If that scares you…”
She kissed him. Slid her fingers into his hair, tugged, then her mouth was on his. Tongue slipping inside. No hesitation. Just heat and need. Her body arching into his. Lips molding together, repositioning, then pressing, again. Over and over until dots flicked at his vision and his lungs burned.
Six eased back, smiling down at her. Fuck, she was beautiful. A light blush staining her cheeks. Lips wet, and kiss-swollen.
Kam thumbed his cheek. “Do I look scared?”
“You look like a soldier with a new mission.”
“Yeah. You.” She laughed. “Trust me, if you could see what I’ve been thinking lately, you’d be the one running from the room… Wait. Don’t you already know what I’ve been thinking? Haven’t you mind-freaked it out or something? Used that sixth sense of yours?”