For Her Eyes Only (McCormack Security Agency)

by Curtis, Shannon

  Ryan’s brow wrinkled, just slightly. “Er...okay.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she spun and stalked to the bathroom. Too subtle? She tried to put a swing in her hips. Deborah said that whenever you wanted a guy to look at you, you just had to swing your hips. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder as she reached the bathroom door.

  He was looking at his watch, damn it.

  She closed the door with a snap. Subtle wasn’t working. She’d have to crank up her seduction. She’d made up her mind, last year’s Christmas party notwithstanding. Tonight, she was going to seduce Ryan Brennan. Or totally humiliate herself trying.

  She inspected her knee briefly. The swelling had gone down, although it ached a little from her rally driving exercise. Overall, though, she thought it was improving. It didn’t look grotesque, so that was a positive, particularly for what she’d planned for the night.

  She quickly showered, lathering herself with rose-scented body wash. She tried to do it slowly, seductively, letting the soapy water trail down her body. She made a soft noise of frustration. Doing all these sexy moves only worked if he was there to see it, and he wasn’t. She rinsed off quickly, drying herself off with a big fluffy white towel. She blow-dried her hair and completed the rest of her toilet, brushing her teeth with a speed that would make her dentist cringe.

  She shrugged into one of the large white robes that hung from hooks on the back of the bathroom door, then looked at herself in the mirror. Her shoulders dropped at the sight. Her hair hung down in shiny waves. That was okay. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, and the robe added bulk to her figure. She frowned. Sexy? Not really. Well, maybe she should just forget about seducing Ryan, play it safe and not disgrace herself.

  And have that regret for the rest of her life? Constantly wondering “what if?”

  No.

  She was going to be the aggressor. No more hiding behind the buddy badge. She was going to make him see her as a woman. She shook her hair a little, parted the robe to make a deep vee at the front, blushing at the visible cleavage. If only she was wearing a push-up bra, to really get his attention.

  She straightened her shoulders. It was time to seduce Ryan.

  I am sexy, hear me roar.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  She opened the door and swept out of the bathroom with what she hoped was a regal effect. She paused just outside the doorway and leaned against the wall, thrusting her breasts up and out, and moving her leg so that the parting of the robe drifted either side of her Jolie-like pose.

  “It’s all yours,” she said, silkily. Invitingly.

  Ryan had removed his trousers, and they lay neatly folded at the end of the bed. He still wore dark boxer briefs that looked so good they were indecent, along with dark socks. He was in the middle of pulling his shirt up over his head as he walked past her. “Thanks.” His voice was muffled under the folds of material, and Vicky gaped at his powerful chest and tight boxer-clad butt as he kicked the door, closing it with a soft thud. Minutes later, the shower started.

  Vicky stomped her foot. He’d missed her, in all her seductive glory, damn it.

  She kicked her boots out of the way and stalked across to the dresser. Ryan had put her clothes away again. She yanked open the drawer, swearing under her breath. Of all the...how could he not...? Argh.

  She’d successfully moved from Kiss of Boredom to Shroud of Invisibility. She shoved the midnight blue silk nightie out of the way in order to reach her Betty Boop pajamas, and hesitated. She fingered the silk, enjoying the soft drape of the fabric. She grasped the material. She firmed her lips. Okay, this was her last attempt. If this didn’t work, she was going to go home, have too many drinks, and think about turning gay.

  She hurriedly shrugged out of the robe, letting it fall to her feet. She slid the material over her head and shivered. Oh, it felt wickedly glorious against her skin. She eyed the matching panties. They looked very pretty, but she didn’t want to run the risk of anything getting in the way of her seduction, or that might allow him time for second thoughts. She stuffed them back into the drawer. She looked down. The nightie only came down to midthigh, with a side split that revealed all the way up to her hip. Her brow puckered. Deborah would say that wasn’t subtle.

  But Deborah’s here at a counseling resort with her husband, so why am I taking advice from her?

  The shower stopped, and she scampered across the room with a light limp and leap motion, and jumped onto the bed. She lay on top of the covers in the middle of the bed, and leaned back against the pillows. She would be in direct view when he opened the door. She rested both hands behind her head. She frowned. Too relaxed? Too obvious? She looked down and realized with horror that the first thing Ryan would see upon exiting the bathroom was right up her short nightie. She wasn’t wearing panties. Too much, too soon. Way too obvious.

  She twisted, so that she lay across the bed, and rested her head on her hand, elbow bent. She settled into what she hoped was a somewhat sexy pose. No, wait, the nightie fell wide open in that position, the slit revealing everything from her navel down. Seduction replaced by the obvious. She rose and laid back on her other side, mirroring the pose. That was better. She put her hand on her hip. No, that just felt expectant, bossy. She lowered her hand to rest on the coverlet. Better. The nightie still covered what it should, yet still seemed femininely sexy.

  The lights. It was too bright. She couldn’t be seductive in all this light. Yeesh. She didn’t mind this seduction business, but only if he couldn’t really see her. She rose from the bed and ran to the switch by the door. She’d just flicked it when she heard the bathroom door open behind her.

  She tilted her head back. Crap. This so wasn’t how she’d planned it. Vicky turned slowly on the ball of one foot. Ryan stood just outside the door, his shadow casting a long, lean shadow toward the bed from the light spilling from the bathroom. His hand paused in the act of toweling his hair dry when he caught sight of her. His gray eyes rounded. He wore another towel slung low around his hips, and droplets from his recent shower peppered his muscled chest. He stood, staring at her. In her short, midnight blue nightie.

  She watched one droplet roll down over a defined pectoral muscle, following the dip and rise over a glistening torso, to trail down and disappear below his towel. A towel that now moved a little as something behind it grew. Vicky gulped.

  What if he rejected her again, though, like at the Christmas party? Doubts and insecurities rose within her, and then memories of their scorching kiss on the mountain and Ryan’s near death blanked them out. He’d kissed her. Hopefully that meant he felt a little more than just friendship for her.

  Maybe there was some residual adrenalin still coursing through her system after the car incident earlier, or maybe it was a culmination of close proximity to this man over several days. Whatever. She wanted to make love with Ryan.

  Tonight.

  Now.

  She took one step forward, felt the nightie part with her movement, the silken fabric sliding to reveal her thigh. Ryan’s gaze dropped. She saw the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed. That was enough. That small sign that he wasn’t immune to her, was enough to give her the courage to take the next step.

  Ryan’s gaze lifted from her thigh, up over her hips, and pause at her lace-covered breasts. Her nipples peaked under the fabric, and she licked her lips. God, if her body reacted like this from one of his looks, how would she handle his touch?

  Ryan took a step forward, his towel parting to reveal a muscular thigh. He took another step, then another, his long stride easily eating up the distance between them, until he stood directly in front of her. His gray eyes drifted over her, never resting, as though trying to unveil all her secrets at once, and not knowing where to begin.

  She took a deep shuddering breath, and his gaze locked on her breasts. It was now or never. She grasp
ed both ends of the towel around his shoulders and tugged his head down to hers, at the same time rising up on her toes to meet his mouth with hers.

  He didn’t resist her. Not when she pulled his head down to hers, not when she pressed her mouth against his, and not when she slid her tongue past his lips. She closed her eyes, pouring every sensual, sexy vibe she could into her kiss, pressing her breasts against his chest. She slid her arms up his biceps and behind his neck, pulling him closer still. His breath hitched as her body moved against his, and he moaned into her mouth.

  He pulled his lips from hers, panting. “Wait, Vic,” he gasped.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Oh, God.

  “What?” She whispered. He wanted to stop. Like at the Christmas party. Her hands fluttered at his neck, and she rocked back on her feet. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks, and she looked at him with uncertainty.

  His eyes met hers, dark and smoky gray, his features tight with desire. His expression revealed passion tinged with tenderness, and a glimmer of caution that faded when his gaze toured her body, banked by a bold need that overrode everything else.

  “Screw it.”

  He lowered his head, and pulled her up against him, pressing his mouth against hers, taking control.

  * * *

  She gasped as Ryan backed her up against the door, kissing her over and over again, his hands running down the length of her body. His touch was hot, his kisses molten, and her head tilted back against the door. Hot damn, he was good.

  His hand played with the hem of her nightie, a finger trailing across the back of her thigh before sliding up to cup her bare buttocks. She squeaked when he touched her there, his hands molding her ass as he groaned into her mouth.

  “Oh, God, Vic, you’re killing me,” he rasped against her mouth, before taking her lips in another long, scorching kiss.

  Well, tit for tat, because she thought she was dying of pleasure in his arms. He raised her against the door, and her core flooded with desire as he ground himself against the juncture of her thighs. She raised her legs to wrap them around him, and he made a sound that was half tortured, half approval. Scooping her close to him, he pulled away from the door, carrying her with him.

  “How’s your knee?” he whispered against her lips.

  “Fine,” she rasped back, pressing her mouth against his, swallowing his relieved moan.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders, his arms, felt his muscles bunch under her touch. He turned, carrying her across the suite, continuing to kiss her, twisting his head one way, then another, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

  She shuddered. He was carrying her. Strong, hot, and totally male, he walked toward the bed. He stumbled, and she moaned as he jostled her in his arms, her breasts brushing against his chest. He went down on one knee, and Vicky lifted her head.

  “Are you okay?” She whispered in between his kisses.

  He laughed against her lips. “Tripped over my towel.” He started kissing her again, lowering her to the floor.

  He was naked against her.

  She didn’t know where his towel was, nor did she care, she only knew that suddenly he was there, rubbing against her as he crawled across the floor to the bed.

  She tried to help him, scooting back in the same direction, only he growled when she moved away, and his arm went around her and pulled her back. He fumbled behind her, not relenting in his kisses as he finally caught his trousers.

  “What...?”

  “Protection,” he muttered as he swallowed the rest of her question. He floundered with the clothing until he could pull his wallet out. He lifted his head, reluctantly letting go of her to remove a foil packet, but it took several moments because he kept coming back for a kiss, as though even that short time was too long to be apart from her.

  “Boy scout,” she murmured, smiling against his lips.

  “Never,” he said as he kissed her yet again, sheathing himself before pulling her against him again.

  She laughed as they stumbled, and she pushed him back and down, levering herself over him. He was gorgeous. Smooth skin over muscle, with a light dusting of hair. She’d always thought he’d be beautiful naked, and she wasn’t wrong. She peppered his chest with kisses, working her way down his torso, teasing him with a slide of silk against his body, until he growled and flipped them over.

  She laughed at his show of strength, of impatience, and she lay back on the carpet. His lips pulled into a grin as he followed her down. His hands toured her body, starting at her waist and moving up to brush across her breasts.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” his whispered against her ear before trailing his lips down her throat.

  “You, too,” she whispered, then she sighed as his hands pulled the straps from her shoulders and down her arms, stretching the lacey fabric until finally her breasts sprang free.

  He stopped and looked down at her. His jaw worked, as though he was talking but no sound came out. His expression held desire, need, and just a little awe that removed any self-consciousness she might have felt. This was her friend, her man, and he was looking at her as though he couldn’t get enough.

  She smiled, feeling sexy under his hot gaze, and pulled his head down to her again. He kissed her hotly, then his lips trailed across her cheek to her ear, sending tingles down her spine to gather at her thighs. She shuddered, and his lips continued their exploration down her body until he could take a taught nipple into his mouth.

  Her eyes widened, and she moaned at the contact. While he drove her crazy with his kisses, licks and nibbles at her breast, he pulled the nightie down further. She moaned, arching her back as his hips rested against hers. She could feel him, hard and hot, against the moist apex at her thighs, and she tilted her head back, quivering at his touch.

  “Please, hurry,” she gasped.

  He lifted his head, releasing her breast with a soft pop, and gave her a wicked smile that had her toes curling. “Uh-uh.”

  “Please,” she begged, not caring about the desperation in her voice.

  “No,” he said, and kissed his way from her breasts, down across her navel. “I’ve dreamt of this for too long, fantasized about you for too long, to rush this.” His lips trailed down further, and she raised her hips at his unspoken command as he tugged the gown off her and discarded it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  She shivered, goose bumps rising on her flesh as he parted her thighs, and she moaned as he kissed her intimately. His lips and tongue drove her wild, and she wriggled against him.

  “Please,” she cried, her tone demanding. Something was coiling inside her, a tension that was winding so tight she thought she might explode any moment. Her nails scored against his shoulders in a desperate bid to get him to fill that aching, empty spot that longed for his touch. She pulled on his hair, and he rumbled in response.

  “So damn bossy,” he said, grinning as he finally relented, levering himself up above her.

  Her hands slid from his shoulders, over his nipples, where she paused briefly to tweak them, and his grin faltered as he moaned. His reaction encouraged her, and she skimmed her hands over his body, trailing down, then up, then down again over his washboard stomach before finally taking hold of him.

  He bucked against her touch, moaning as she explored him, feeling his strength, his heat. He threw his head back, thrusting against her hand. She loved the feel of him, the leashed power that quivered at her touch. After a few moments he put his hand over hers, halting her.

  “I can’t take this any longer,” he whispered, and he nudged her thighs apart, lowering himself until he rested against her entry.

  “Now, damn it,” she demanded, trembling with need. She was all twisty and nervy inside, sensations swamping her at each touch, each trail of his fingers, each kiss.

  He lowered his head to hers. “
So damn bossy,” he said on a breathless chuckle. He entered her, and they moaned in unison.

  She shuddered, feeling his slick glide inside her, deep inside. He took his time, hissing as he slowly slid out, then in again, his expression of absolute bliss a match to her own pleasure.

  He started to pick up speed, and she panted, moving her hips in a synchronized rhythm that had them both breathless and writhing. Heat gathered in her core, and her eyes widened, meeting his as sensation swelled, quivery and hot, exploding deep within. He growled with the pleasure as he plunged inside her, deep inside. For a moment, his eyes almost crossed with rapture as his own explosion took him, draining him.

  He collapsed against her, and she felt his hot breath against her neck, his heart pounding against hers. It was a few moments before he raised himself, and he smiled down at her, satisfaction evident in his stretch against her, inside her.

  “Thank you,” he said simply, and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

  She laughed breezily. “Oh, no, thank you.” She was giddy with pleasure.

  “Okay, thank me.” He smiled, brief and wide. He withdrew from her and rose to his feet, making his way to the bathroom. Vicky watched him, his long legs and narrow hips giving him a grace that only very fit males seemed to accomplish. The covers from the bed had been pulled askew, his trousers lay off to one side, and she wasn’t quite sure where her nightie was. She rolled over to look under the section of the coverlet that lay on the floor. Yes, it was Ryan, her best friend. Yes, they’d just explored each other’s bodies with detailed intimacy. Yes, she was still shy and had a case of the hasty cover-ups. She rose up on her knees, bending low to look under the bed. Where was the damn nightie?

  “Looking for this?” Ryan asked.

  She looked over her shoulder. She hadn’t heard him return. He dangled her nightie from one finger, looking decadent in his casual-yet-wicked pose. And she was presenting to him like a baboon in heat.