Rook Security Complete Series

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Rook Security Complete Series Page 98

by Camilla Blake


  The bunker was lonely with no one in it. Not creepy though. There were seven hundred security systems keeping her safe. She didn’t anticipate missing Moreau quite so acutely each night, however. They spoke on the phone a few times, though the time difference made it a bit difficult.

  By the second night, Geo took up Bex on the offer to sleep over, and she and Bex and Naomi made it a girl’s night of sorts. A very tame girl’s night that concluded with Bex driving Geo to the doctor’s office for a check-up the next morning.

  Geo was thrilled to have received the all-clear from her doctor. She was good for physical activity within reason. Including sex.

  Now she was even more antsy for Moreau’s movie to wrap up.

  It was two days until the movie wrapped that Geo was sleeping in her room in the bunker when the security system woke her up.

  There was a disturbance in the atrium. That was very unusual. She sat up, dead alert, and used her computer to click into the security feeds.

  She caught the taillights of an unrecognized car flicker out as the car turned off. And then there was a person sliding out of the driver’s seat.

  Her breath caught in her chest. Even through the grainy camera feed, she could recognize that strut, that scowl, that perfect face and ridiculous haircut.

  Davy was here.

  The security system alerted her of every hallway he walked through. And then she was seeing him with her bare eyes as he swung her door open and stood there, chest heaving, tossing a bag to her floor.

  She said the very first words that came to her head. In fact, she just let them tumble free. She couldn’t have stopped them if she’d wanted to.

  “You can drive?”

  He laughed, hard, and stalked over to her, kicking the door closed. “I can do a great many things, Savannah Georgia.”

  She was sitting up in bed, her legs thrown over the side of her bed, she leaned down and closed her laptop, setting it on the floor. “You’re about two days early, Moreau.”

  “I ditched the last two days of filming. They don’t need me.” He crouched in front of her, his hands resting on her knees.

  “How did you shake Rook?”

  “I told the team I’d meet them at home. But instead I drove to the airport and hopped on a plane.” He looked at his watch. “By my calculation, we have at least six hours until the cavalry arrives.”

  She put a thoughtful look on her face. “But whatever shall we do with six hours?”

  ***

  Moreau had been a child star from about the age of twelve. People had thought he was very cute. It wasn’t until he’d been about sixteen years old that people had started referring to his attractiveness. His magnetism.

  In his twenties, he’d attempted to hone it, tame it. He’d had the idea that he could use it as a tool, to get the roles he wanted. But when he’d started getting stalkers and enemies and losing track of the women he’d slept with, he did something new with his good looks. He attempted to downplay them. In his thirties, he’d wanted to be known for his acting skills, not just his face and body. Though, it was obviously not something he’d ever been able to fully leave behind. In so many ways, it just was who he was.

  Until the moment he rose up from crouching in front of Geo, his eyes flaring and his breath tearing through his lungs, he hadn’t realized that he’d been waiting for the right woman to unleash himself on.

  He hadn’t realized how constricting it had been to cage his sexuality, to leave it on the bench.

  At the end of the day, he was a powerful, sensual, sexual creature. And behind closed doors, with the woman he loved, he didn’t need to cage it for a moment longer.

  So.

  He didn’t.

  Her words hung in the air between them as he took a step back and then another. Whatever shall we do with six hours?

  “What are we going to do?” he asked her, starting with the buttons at his wrists and then slowly working the buttons down his chest. “I’ll tell you exactly what I’m going to do, Savannah.”

  He was very much obliged to watch her eyes go fuzzy, her throat gulp.

  “I’m going to get very naked for you. And then I’m going to do a few things that I’ve been wanting to do for four years.”

  “What’s that?”

  He tossed his shirt to one side and kicked off his shoes. He shucked off his undershirt with one hand over his head and went to work on his belt. “I’m going to put my tongue inside you. I’m going to suck your flavor into my soul.”

  She sucked her teeth. “And I’m just supposed to lay there while you ravish me?”

  He laughed. Because she was so hard to please and so beautiful and peeling her own clothes off as he shucked his pants to the ground and yanked off his socks and his underwear all at once.

  She was pulling her pajama pants off so for a moment she was preoccupied. She didn’t notice him standing there completely stark naked for her. Nothing in the world between her eyes and his DNA.

  She tossed her pajama pants aside and looked up, her eyes doing an epic double take that he would take with him across the pearly gates some day. The way her eyes ballooned, her mouth dropping open—it was the greatest gift he’d ever gotten.

  “Davy,” she groaned, her eyes glued between his legs.

  She shoved off the bed, wearing only a pair of white panties and a black tank top. Some day, he would recognize the predatory glint in her eyes for exactly what it was. He would see that expression and know exactly how much trouble he was in. But tonight? The very first time he was naked in front of her? He was simply unprepared for the moment she dropped to her knees in front of him.

  He didn’t have time to step back, he didn’t even have time to jerk away from her before she’d taken him by his thick base and swallowed him halfway down her throat.

  His body jerked, hard, and his hands found their way to her hair. He was aware that he was cursing, but he could barely make sense of it.

  He had been both blessed and cursed with a very impressive package. Most days, he was very proud of what he slung between his legs. But some days, when some generous woman practically choked herself to death on him, he wished he could be just a bit smaller.

  Geo was three quarters of the way down on him now and her eyes had begun to water. He gently pulled on her hair, trying to ease her a bit off of him.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “Don’t choke yourself.”

  Later, he’d realized that those were fighting words. Those dark blue eyes of hers flicked up and met his. She had a stubborn look on her face, even with her mouth stuffed full of him. His legs shook at the knee when he felt her tongue stroke the bottom of him.

  Then, stubbornly, defiantly, gorgeously, her eyes still on his, Geo let her hands drop and she sunk the rest of the way down on him, swallowing him to the base and making him believe in magic for the first time in his life.

  He saw stars as she pulled off of him, gasping for breath before she swallowed him again.

  “Savannah. God. Don’t… Just like—Gah. Baby,” He couldn’t finish a single sentence that he attempted to start.

  One of his hands stayed loosely, lovingly, on the back of her head but his other hand tangled in his own hair and nearly yanked it out at the root. He was forcing himself to be still, to endure, to not lose his mind on this woman he’d been waiting years to love. But he couldn’t stop the slow undulation of his body as she found her rhythm, started working him with one hand and her mouth. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

  She laughed and he looked down at her. “What is it?”

  “You’re speaking in tongues, Moreau,” she said as she came up off him, a cat-like smile on her lips.

  “What?”

  “You’re saying stuff in like five different languages.”

  Had he? He’d barely been aware that he’d been speaking. But then she swallowed him down again and yup, his French melted into Italian melted into Greek and straight into Spanish. He was talking to God in every langu
age he knew. She gave a hard suck and had him coming up to his toes, rocking forward. His breath was harsh in his ears. He was losing it. He was close.

  “Savannah,” he choked out. He tugged on her hair, trying to warn her. “Savannah, I’m close.”

  She kept right on going.

  “Geo,” he gasped, trying to pull her off. “Geo, I’m going to—”

  She bore down on him, took everything and gave him no choice at all. He exploded into the wet heaven of her mouth, giving her absolutely everything. He felt as if the vibration of his cells had hit some celestial frequency he’d never before achieved. Every molecule within him rang like a bell, pulling tight and erupting outward in the most exquisite pleasure he’d ever known.

  He gasped and jolted when she affectionately nuzzled and kissed at him. They were both breathing hard when he took her by the shoulders and stood her up, stumbling both of them to the bed.

  He flopped backwards, covering his eyes with his bicep. “Savannah,” he groaned.

  His body still hummed with pleasure and release.

  She chuckled as she stretched hard and peered over at him.

  He looked at her through one narrowed eye. “I’m guessing you highly enjoyed mastering me.”

  She grinned at him. “It’s always a good feeling to bring a powerful man to his knees.”

  He rolled over her, careful to keep his weight off of her. “You brought me to my knees quite a bit faster than usual. You’ve made me pop like a teen-aged boy.” He frowned at her in a pleased sort of way.

  Something surprisingly sweet and understanding crossed her face. “It’s okay, Moreau. I wanted to. That’s what I wanted. It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight.”

  He laughed, nuzzling her neck, and dropping some of his weight between her legs. “Oh, we’re definitely having sex tonight.”

  Her silence had him lifting his head to read her expression.

  He found her eyeing him skeptically.

  “But… you already came.”

  She thought that he would let her wreck him and then just pull the covers up to his chin and hit the hay? What kind of lover did she think he was? There was something about her minimal expectations for him that just made him want to shoot for a gold medal. She made him want to kick the door in. She made him want to give her fireworks across a formerly dim sky. He wanted to amaze her in every sense of the word.

  Also, he wanted to prove himself. He took her by the chin, his natural pride kicking in in a real way. “I’m good for more.”

  She pursed her lips. “You’re forty years old.”

  Moreau laughed, because that was better than going insane. He rolled his hips into her, one of his hands sliding under her underwear to cup her ass. He dropped his mouth to the skin above her tank top and spoke directly into her heart. “Savannah, I’m good for more. Call it good genes, call it good motivation, but I’m not stopping until I come inside you tonight.”

  “Mo—,” she said, her words lost inside his mouth as he leaned up and licked the inside of her bottom lip, sucked at her tongue, clacked their teeth.

  In an unexpected unison, they rolled so that she was on top again. She stretched out against him, burying him in a delicious weight. In soft curves.

  “How’re you feeling, baby?” he asked, his lips pressing against hers.

  “Hmm?” She pulled back, her eyes hazy, her tongue chasing his flavor against her lips. “Horny.”

  He laughed. “Yes. I’m clear on that. I’m asking about your injury.”

  “Oh.” She blinked like she had to orient herself to earth again in order to go on. “I’m totally fine. The doctor said there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Can I see it?” he asked gently.

  She nodded and rolled off of him, pulling her tank top up on one side. There really was barely anything to see. A pink line where she was already mostly healed. To him, it was as lovely as the rest of her. He kissed her there, gently, and nuzzled against her belly. He peeled her shirt higher and growled when as he rested her tank top high on her chest, pushing her breasts down toward him.

  He pressed his face between her breasts, their plush weight threatening to suffocate him. But what a way to go. “You protected me with your life, Savannah,” he said to her.

  “Let’s not talk about that now,” she gasped as he took one of her nipples into her mouth, gave her a tenderly rough suck.

  “I can’t ignore it,” he told her, kissing his way to her other breast. “No one has ever done such a thing for me.”

  One of his hands traveled down her stomach and flirted with the edge of her panties.

  “Yeah. Well.” Apparently she couldn’t think of any way to finish that sentence, she was too busy arching against him, tracing her hands through his hair.

  “I think I’ll thank you by making love to you,” he informed her. He looked up to gauge her reaction. “It will take a very long time.” He danced his fingers away from her underwear and back up her stomach. “By the end, you will think you are laying in a bed of roses.”

  “No!” She scowled. “Jesus, Davy. I don’t want any freaking roses. I just want you to screw me.”

  He hid his smile between her breasts, enjoying teasing her. “Ah, so sorry, Kitty. But, in my world, only women who love me get screwed dirty. For you, since you are still making up your mind about me, I will simply make love to you. Very slowly. Very sweetly.” He gave her an evil grin. “It will take hours.”

  “You are such a bastard,” she groaned, but there was a sly smile on her face. She knew his game. That he was teasing her about the fact that she hadn’t said she loved him yet. He wasn’t worried. He knew how she felt. There was no way that Geo was laying in bed and rubbing noses with someone she didn’t love. She wasn’t built that way. She’d taken a knife for him. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to hear it from her. Didn’t need confirmation.

  “If you’re not gonna screw me, then I’m gonna screw you,” she crisply informed him, before she kicked his weight out from his knee and deftly rolled them.

  She straddled him and pinned his wrists. She allowed him to wriggle free enough to strip her tank top off of her and toss it aside.

  “Americans,” he griped. “They all want the sex to be over with so quickly.”

  “Yeah, well, see, there’s this really great thing that happens at the end of sex? It’s called an orgasm? And Americans really like them.”

  He laughed again and sat up to kiss along her neck, to slide his hands under her underwear and grip her ass again. “Savannah, if you’ve only been orgasming at the end of sex, then you have been doing it wrong.”

  “Big talk.” But she gasped and laughed when he flipped them again, lowering her onto her back and sweeping her underwear down her legs.

  He loved this so much. The conversation, the friendly battle for dominance. The surrender.

  She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him in an open, almost curious way as he kissed his way up the inside of her leg. She was obviously expecting him to go down on her and he didn’t disappoint. In contrast to the wide, open-mouthed kisses he was giving her thigh, when he spread her legs and dove into her, he used a very intense, very focused suction on the place she needed it the most.

  He didn’t let up. Not when her fingers fisted in his hair or her legs closed around his ears. Her heels dug hard into his back as he suckled relentlessly. There wasn’t anything poetic or romantic about this sex act. He was simply driving her to orgasm as quickly and ruthlessly as possible. Her muscles started contracting around him and she screamed his name as she trembled against him. Her legs falling limp to either side. The whole thing had taken maybe forty seconds.

  “Holy shit.” She did exactly what he had done and covered her eyes with her bicep.

  Moreau sat back on his heels between her spread legs and gently opened her with his fingers. He sank two fingers inside her tight heat and stroked that mysterious place i
nside of her in a fast, insistent pet.

  “That was an external orgasm, my love. Now let’s see if we can’t give you an internal.”

  He stroked her insistently and as she strained, he pinned her knees open with his own. Again, she was trembling and gasping against him in moments, brought to orgasm ruthlessly fast.

  He smiled and fell onto his side next to her. “This is what you want, my love?” He petted her from the part of her hair all the way down to her knee, as far as he could reach without moving, without tearing away their eye contact. “You want orgasms as quickly as possible?”

  “I want…” she rolled onto her back and then onto her side again. Her hair was fanned out in every direction, her eyes hazy and her breaths trembling in her chest. “I—Jesus—I think I want you to make love to me.”

  He grinned. He wasn’t even sure what point he was attempting to make any more. He wanted her love. He wanted her pleasure. He wanted to torture them both and reward them both. He wanted to do everything he’d dreamed about.

  He pressed them together, stem to stern and dragged one of her legs over his hip, opening her to him, but not pressing inside.

  He pulled back from her. “Do we need a condom?”

  Her eyes cleared a bit and she rolled onto her back. “Condom. Definitely. I’m not on anything.”

  They both looked down as he hardened so fast he slapped against his own stomach.

  Geo’s eyes got big as she looked back and forth between his eyes. She laughed. “That turns you on?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Was it the condoms part or the me being fertile thing?”

  “I think it was the idea of getting you pregnant.” He had the grace to look turned on, confused, and sheepish all at once.

  Geo laughed. “Fair enough. But yeah, one thing at a time, big guy.”

  She hopped off the bed and over to the backpack she’d brought to California and never unpacked. To his delight, she brought out a pack of condoms. She’d bought those for her time in Hollywood, he just knew it. She’d been planning to love him there.

 

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