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The Transporter

Page 14

by Maverick, Liz


  “Oh, Shane,” Cecily said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, look where it got me. Sittin’ here across from you. Would definitely not have guessed that would be my path, but I’ll take it.”

  She smiled. And then her smile turned into a grin.

  “What are you thinking?” Shane asked.

  “What you said earlier about Rothgar giving you a place, but it still didn’t feel like a ‘home.’”

  “Yeah?”

  “You should make it a home. Take the time to make it a place where you feel happy.”

  He stilled and then said almost too casually, “You should decorate my room.”

  “Oh, my god, how delicious,” she squealed. “I know exactly what to do. I’ll go shopping on the weekend. I was planning to take a class, anyway, so I’ll be out and about.”

  “Delicious is not for decorating rooms, Cecily.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Delicious is for the perfect chocolate cake and for how your pussy tastes when I put my mouth on you.”

  Shane took a gulp of bourbon, his eyes locked on Cecily licking her bottom lip, her eyes liquid heat. Well, what did he expect, saying a thing like that?

  He leaned across the table. “And after you finish off that dessert, we’re gonna find someplace I can finish off you.”

  Cecily leaned in to meet him in the middle and whispered, “I think I’ve had enough dessert.”

  Shane unmuted his comms. “Shane here. Pix in custody. We out?” he murmured.

  “You two are good to go,” Chase said. “Have a fan-fucking-tastic night.”

  Nice one, Chase.

  Cecily’s eyes were wide. “The guys can’t hear our regular conversation, can they?”

  “They can’t hear this. And they can’t see this.” Shane’s hand moved under the table, sliding his palm up Cecily’s thigh. The fabric of her skirt rippled away; he hooked a finger in the side string of her panties and tugged. Just a little, but his fingers fluttering lightly over her skin was almost too much.

  A huff escaped Cecily’s mouth, and she parted her legs slightly, already wishing they’d left half an hour ago.

  He must have read her mind. “The car should be out front,” Shane said, moving in for a soft kiss, his tongue lingering against her lips.

  When the kiss ended, the server made the most of the moment to return the check. He whispered a little too loudly in Cecily’s ear, “He’s hot. Lucky you.”

  Cecily bit her lip, her heart going warm. Shane didn’t say a word, just finished the transaction, said his good-byes, and hustled them to the front of the house, where the hostess swapped Shane the keys for a thick roll of cash.

  Which was probably why Shane’s car was still parked in the loading zone right outside the restaurant where he’d left it.

  Shane’s eyes locked on hers, a mischievous grin on his face. He came to her, but instead of opening the door, he pressed her against it. His hands moved quickly, shoving up the back of her dress and cupping her ass.

  “Shane!”

  “It’s New York. No one cares,” he murmured into her neck. “We’ll get going in just a sec.”

  Heat from Shane’s jeans seared through her silk panties. Cecily clung to his shoulders as he kissed her hard, both of them pressing against each other, their bodies desperate for more.

  And then he pulled away, the car keys jingling in his hand.

  “You keep taking it away. You’re the ultimate tease, Shane.” She pulled hard on his shoulders. “Stop taking it away.”

  He grinned down at her. “I love seeing you hot for me.”

  She grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him back. “I’ve been hot for you for a long time,” Cecily said into his ear and then licked his lobe. “If we’re going to get out of here, let’s get out of here.”

  “Jesus,” Shane said. “Man, there is so much I want to do with you. So many things . . . this dress is making me crazy.” He hooked his finger in the string at her waist that was supposed to be keeping the wrap dress wrapped. If he so much as breathed on the loop of tied bow, her entire dress would come undone.

  He did the opposite, pulling on the sides of the fabric to cover her more and opened the passenger side door. “Get in,” he said gruffly.

  Shane started the car and pulled them straight into the city’s bloodstream. Lights illuminated the way like a sky filled with hundreds of stars. The windows were down, and as they moved slowly through the streets and changed neighborhoods, the music coming from the bars and boom boxes, from the shouting and laughing, and from the swirl of Manhattan nightlife changed like a playlist too.

  Shane’s shifting hand moved from the stick to wrap around her fingers. Cecily had never felt so alive, never felt so much like the person she wanted to be in the life she wanted to have.

  “The president is in town,” Shane finally said into a silence that felt perfectly comfortable.

  “Yeah?”

  “They block off certain roads, depending on his itinerary.”

  Cecily looked over. Shane was up to something. “Really? Have you perchance seen this itinerary?”

  “I have,” he said, his lips parting as a chuckle escaped. “Perchance.”

  “The nice thing about your particular brand of bad, Shane, is that I really have every confidence you will get me out of any mess you get me into.”

  He turned his head, the teasing gone. “You serious or you messing with me?”

  “I’m serious,” Cecily said, processing the weight of her own words. It was true; she knew he’d keep her safe. That wasn’t exactly new. What was new was her willingness to walk toward fire with him at her side. Getting out of an unusual situation was one thing. Walking toward an unusual situation was another. But she had a new kind of backbone now. And unusual didn’t mean wrong. And unusual didn’t mean stupid. It was just the Hudson Kings. Whatever it was that kept Missy and Dex at the Armory. “I mean it.”

  It took him a while before he answered. “Helluva compliment coming from you.” His hand moved from her palm to the split of her dress, exposing her leg. He ran his fingers featherlight across her thigh again, caressing her skin until the light turned green and his hand vanished.

  Cecily sighed on a smile, looking forward to the moment when his hands were all hers.

  Shane focused on driving for a while, cutting a series of corners and coming out to a side street lined with sets of orange-and-white roadblocks as far as the eye could see.

  “Guess the president’s not here yet.” He stopped the car and then hopped out and moved the barricade. Moments later, they were on the deserted West Side Highway.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She looked at Shane and smiled. He smiled back.

  And then he hit the accelerator.

  No music, no talking. Just the speed of the car, lights streaking around them, the moon reflecting off the Hudson River.

  And at the peak of speed, the feel of Shane’s hand closing around hers.

  Cecily’s heart was pounding. Absolutely pounding by the time Shane brought the car to a crawl below the Manhattan entrance of the Brooklyn Bridge. They turned into a grassy space isolated from view. He didn’t say anything. Just parked, threw off his seat belt, popped hers as well, and was around in a flash, pulling her out of the car and throwing her down on the hood.

  His mouth came down on hers, claiming her. She took his weight, her body restless under his.

  He slipped one finger through the loop of her string belt, pulling the tie apart with a jerk of his wrist. “Hell, yes,” he said as the fabric pooled on either side of her nakedness. Just panties and a bra now, the light breeze caressing her skin almost as good as the sensation of Shane’s hands on her body.

  “Shane,” Cecily moaned.

  He bent down, his hands parting the sides of her dress, his mouth trailing against her skin to the V between her legs where he licked her through her panties.

  God. God.

  “Wh
at . . . ,” she breathed. It was all she could get out because he’d suddenly flipped her around so that her palms were flat on the hood and she was bent over. He used his knee to spread her legs and then pressed forward against her ass, his erection huge through his jeans. Cecily groaned just thinking about it, wetness slicking between her legs across the silk.

  He pulled her panties down. Two of his fingers slid into her while his cock pressed against her. Shane began moving his hips like he was fucking her from behind, and Cecily nearly lost her mind.

  “’S good,” she managed to say as he worked his fingers, flicking her clit, then pressing his erection slow against her.

  They’d found a rhythm, the two of them; Cecily’s orgasm began to build. Shane’s breathing went rocky, and she knew he was on his way to losing his mind along with her.

  Suddenly, his fingers slipped away.

  “I want—” she blurted in alarm.

  “You’ll get,” he growled. And the fingers came back, bringing her to a high again . . . and then once again taking it away.

  “Don’t stop!” Cecily gasped, even as his work made her hotter, drew out the tension, teased her body to new heights.

  “Just beginning,” Shane said. His free hand curled around her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. His body was all around hers, in charge, taking her everywhere, his delicious weight keeping her close, running the show.

  He fingered her more deliberately now, still building the pleasure higher. Cecily lost track of everything except Shane’s urgent voice whispering in her ear, the feel of his hard cock moving against her ass, the fingers working her clit.

  “Give me—” blurted from her mouth.

  She broke hard, her cry of ecstasy long and drawn out, but she didn’t care. She just rode the wave and let the orgasm move through her body.

  Shane held her still as the pleasure washed over her, as she came down from it, as she came back to reality and looked at him over her shoulder. And then he released her and turned her around.

  He circled his arms around her and held her and then said, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  “Whatever?”

  “Name it.”

  “Your turn, then,” she said, gesturing with a nod to his belt buckle.

  “Uh-uh,” Shane said. “Not done taking care of you.”

  “You know I get kind of embarrassed talking about sex,” Cecily said.

  Shane cocked his head and looked down at her. “Cute and hot as hell.”

  Cecily laughed, steeled herself, and then practiced her new policy of saying what she wanted . . . and taking it.

  “I want . . . I want to watch your face while I suck your cock. I want to see you lose control over me,” she whispered and then buried her face in her hands. “Oh, my god, did I just say that?”

  “Holy shit,” Shane said.

  Cecily dropped her hands in a panic. “Too much? Too blunt? Too—”

  “Shut up, beautiful. Too perfect. You say what you want, what you like. That’s the kind of normal I want for you.”

  Oh. Holy shit, in a good way. Wow.

  “Now, my turn to be honest. You’ve told me you wanna suck my cock, you’ve got about one second to get down to that, or I’m gonna make my own decision about what comes next. Between those sexy little sounds you make and the way you move your body for me when I so much as move my finger near your pussy, I’m so fucking hard I can’t see straight.”

  Cecily got down to business, and Shane’s eyes pooled like liquid night looking down at her as she made quick work of belt, button, and fly.

  “Holy shit, in a really good way,” she said, as his cock sprang free from his jeans. Gorgeous. God, he was huge. Her body ached to be filled, but, more than that, Cecily wanted to watch him come with his cock in her mouth.

  Shane groaned as she took him in her hand, velvet skin against her palm. She kneeled and touched her tongue to the tip, going wet between her legs again as her tongue tasted salt. Her heart raced when he bucked.

  “Fuck, sweetling,” he said, more a prayer than anything else.

  Down on her knees, sucking and licking, she cupped his balls, watching his face the whole time. Now she had all the power. All the power to make him feel like he was flying.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Nailing it . . .” His hands gripped the car beneath him. She looked up and could see the muscles in his arms bulging and shifting as he held himself in place, just the slightest rhythm in his hips.

  He was holding himself back from fucking her face. He was standing on the edge and holding himself back from taking over, letting her work, trying so hard not to take over.

  The slight rocking of his hips pressed his cock farther back in her mouth; the tension in his body was so fierce it fired Cecily up even more.

  “Gonna . . . god . . .” He looked down into her eyes as she took him deep. “God” was all he could say. His eyes went hazy. His hands reached out; his fingers raked through her hair. He groaned. Tension rippled through his body. His head went back, and on a powerful yell, he shot down Cecily’s throat and fell back against the car.

  Shane’s chest heaved as he stared up at the stars.

  Cecily wiped her mouth, and Shane righted himself. Suddenly, her feet weren’t touching the ground, and Shane was hauling her to him, and he’d tucked her in the crook of his arm. They lay curled on the hood of the car.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she said, trying not to feel shy.

  “That was fucking insane,” he said, his arm around her, his gaze still up in the sky. “Can’t believe I waited that long for that.”

  “Me neither,” Cecily said, feeling a hell of a lot better. Suddenly, his hold loosened. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Not gonna leave you hanging. Look on your face with my cock in your mouth . . .” Shane slid off the hood.

  “You don’t . . . hey . . . where are you going?”

  “To find that sweet spot between your world and mine,” Shane said, flashing a cocky grin as he pressed her knees apart and lowered his head between her legs.

  CHAPTER 20

  Cecily didn’t buy Shane a plant. She bought him three. Two of them involved flowers.

  Flowers and plants. In his room.

  Shane obviously didn’t give a shit about interior design, but he liked the idea of Cecily leaving her mark on his living quarters.

  So, yeah, she’d been busy since Friday night, and thanks to living in Manhattan, the deliveries were already arriving.

  So far, the take included a new set of sheets and a new comforter and a slew of pillows, most of which had immediately ended up on the floor on Saturday night when Shane was done with his team planning session, and Cecily stopped by to set things up. And then, because he always made it a point to test new equipment in the field, he tried it all out—with Cecily on the bed, of course.

  Girl done good. She’d designed a room for a man where a woman could be totally comfortable. She’d designed a room for the two of them.

  The two of them.

  Us.

  A familiar rap on the door was followed by the immediate entrance of Missy, wheeling another cart full of boxes.

  “Where’s Cecily?” Missy asked. “I’m guessing that a box from a place called Gracious Home is not something you ordered.”

  “Hanging out with Dex.”

  “How’s it going with him? You guys make up?”

  Since he hadn’t talked to Dex recently and wasn’t planning to talk to him soon, he didn’t answer. Missy pulled a scissors from a holster hanging off the front of the cart and started opening boxes.

  “You serious?” Shane asked.

  “What, am I being inappropriate?” Missy asked, continuing to run the scissor blade down the tape seams and opening lids.

  “Sometimes I worry about you.”

  “I wouldn’t worry. I’ve got, like, a baker’s dozen of big, strong men who will take care of little ol’ me in a pinch.” She said this as she wield
ed the scissors in a final flourish, swung the handle loop around her finger like a gunslinger, and tossed them expertly back in the holster. And then: “Huh.”

  “What?” Shane asked.

  “It’s a blankie. Awww.”

  Shane looked. “That’s not a blankie. It’s a blanket. It’s clearly a very nice, adult blanket.”

  “You’re getting testy,” Missy noted, with a grin. “I like how you defend her. Is this the real deal?”

  “Missy, don’t start. We’re not a thing,” he said. At least not a public thing. They were a private thing. And it made sense to keep it that way for now.

  “I wouldn’t shout it out either, if I had Dex and Rothgar breathing down my neck, but you gotta admit to me, anyway, that you are finally having feelings for a sister instead of a sedan.”

  Shane winced at that one. “Got nothing to say.” He pulled the entire blanket out of the box. It was a big two-person-friendly blanket in gunmetal gray, like his car. He tossed it on the bed. “Have no idea what she had in mind with this stuff.”

  “Oh, I think we know what she had in mind, pal. It’s a blanket.”

  Shane crossed his arms across his chest. “If you think you’re welcome to stay here and open any more boxes, you got it wrong.”

  “I’m going, I’m going.”

  Nick stuck his face through the crack in the door. “Everybody decent? Oh, it’s just you and Missy.”

  Missy made a face on her way out.

  Nick walked in.

  “What is this, Grand Central?” Shane asked, stacking the rest of the boxes on the bed.

  “Went to see if Romeo was up to getting back to work, but he’s busy puking, and these are new shoes.”

  Shane laughed.

  “So, you continue to be the primary in the field,” Nick said. “Chase is backup.”

 

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