INTO DANGER (Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) Book 1)

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INTO DANGER (Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) Book 1) Page 35

by Gennita Low


  The thought of her being shot at curdled all the warm and fuzzy plans he had in mind. He captured her busy hands in his, his heart beating loudly in his head. “I don’t want to lose you,” he ground out. “I don’t want you to take everything so lightly, damn it! Do you know what I’ve been through the last couple of days, worrying about you, wondering about you?”

  Did she know how her blue eyes blazed when she was provoked? That she chewed the inside of her lower lip when she tried to hide her emotions? That the next thing she would do was erect that wall of hers and utter some mocking words?

  Sure enough, her smile was brilliant, filled with sexual promise. “I’ll make it up to you,” she crooned, loosening her hands from his hold. She pushed him gently backward, toward the shower. “You saved me, my big bad knight in a rubber suit. Now you’re worried about some silly little cut on me, when you should be enjoying the spoils of victory. Me, naked, wet. You, naked, wet, horny.” She had him in the bathroom before he knew it, her hands once again busy. She took his hand and slid it between her legs. “Let me show you where I’m hurting.”

  A man couldn’t stay mad when he had his hand between a woman’s legs and she was climbing all over him. At least that was what Steve discovered.

  Steam soon covered the glass of the little shower stall, as the hot water ran green, black, and a little red down the drain. Steve liked her soapy hands on him. A lot.

  “Close your eyes so you don’t get soap in them,” Marlena ordered.

  Always obey the woman with a soap bar in her hands. He hoped that luxury cabins also meant ample gallons of hot water because he wanted to stay in there for a while.

  Her hands glided over him, slick and heated. Her nails sent a rush of pleasure right down to his...toes. “Ummm...I thought you wanted my eyes closed to wash my face,” he said huskily. Not that he was complaining.

  Wicked. She had the wickedest, soapiest hands in the world. And she wasn’t washing his face at all. His closed eyes only enhanced what she was doing to him. He felt her holding him firmly, and one silky thumb drove him crazy as it rubbed the underside of his rapidly growing erection. It moved from the tip of his sensitive penis all the way down to the base, where she pressed in, as if he had some secret button he didn’t know about. Whoa!

  His eyes shot open. “Good God, woman,” he muttered as he braced both hands on the wet wall opposite him. His knees almost buckled from the fiery sensation that threatened to erupt too soon. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Getting soap in your eye,” she told him with the smuggest of smiles.

  Steve stared down at himself. Both her hands were wrapped around his erection, one tormenting thumb still stroking a certain spot. The swollen head strained upward as she massaged him harder. He shook the water out of his eyes. There was no way she had both hands spanning his length and he had that to spare. Unless he had grown several inches, he wasn’t that...big.

  Her thumb moved sensuously, seeming to control his very blood flow. His back arched toward her spontaneously when she pressed down again, and his whole world zeroed in on the liquid pleasure shooting up the length of him to the point of bursting. He tried to focus but only saw her smiling face fade in and out. Every nerve ending that mattered seemed to be zooming warp-speed. His heart beat thunderously.

  “What...what did you do?” he finally managed, once she moved that thumb away.

  “It’s called the Venus Butterflytrap technique,” she said, but her voice seemed to be coming to him in slow motion as he tried to ignore the long, slow, up and down strokes of her hand. “It’s the male G-spot. Makes him all weak in the knees.”

  Normally a real man didn’t like to be weak in the knees, but he would make an exception this one time. He admitted it. He was putty; that was, putty everywhere but in her hands. That part was granite hard, with a heated core that was building higher by the stroke. He closed his eyes again. He would ask about this Venus Flything later. Right now, right at this moment, he had a bigger and harder situation to deal with.

  “Grow big and hard for me, Sir Rubber Suit,” he heard Marlena croon with the splattering water in the background. “Just like that.”

  Releasing him, her hands roamed up his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, and he opened his eyes again in protest. He didn’t need any soap there. The heat in his groin grew as she soaped every part of him but where he wanted, but it also allowed him some measure of control, so that he, too, could do his own soapy torture.

  He smoothed the slippery bubbles over her breasts, cupping and weighing them, went lower, where she had a magic button of her own. She moaned as he glided the bar of soap slowly between her thighs, then inserted a finger into her. It was now her turn to lean onto him, as she parted her legs. He slid in another finger and moved his thumb in a circling motion.

  He blocked the water from the showerhead, the needles adding a simple pleasure, shuddering when she nibbled her way down his chest and sucked on his nipple. Her hand reached down again and he sucked in his breath in anticipation, not sure whether he could take another one of those...oh man. Oh man!

  His whole body jerked forward at her knowing touch, and he almost slammed her into the wall. He was on fire. His hard-on was tortuously filled to the brim, growing in spurts as she kept pressing him there. Thoughts burst like the forgotten soap bubbles as a tidal wave of sexual need threatened to engulf his senses.

  Mindlessly, he half lifted her as he slid his penis into the crevice between her legs, trying to get inside. It wasn’t easy, since they were both slick with soap. Unable to control himself, he moved his hips anyway. In. He wanted in.

  “We’re going to get killed in here, baby,” he muttered, “and I don’t want to die before I come in you. I need you. I have to have you.”

  “The water’s turning lukewarm anyway,” Marlena said, kissing the side of his neck.

  Steve reached back and turned the water off while she pushed the shower door open. They tumbled out of the stall, all tangled limbs and wet hair, panting lips and eager tongues. He wanted her so badly, he couldn’t even wait to reach the bed. There was the tiny sink, and whatever was left of his sanity registered the perfect height. He lifted her onto it, spread her legs wide, threw them over his arms, and plunged in, eyes closed. He felt so huge, he had to adjust her position, pulling her legs higher. He pushed in slowly, trying to curb his impatience. She gasped as he ruthlessly forced inward, all the way. He wanted to feel her around his entire length. She was slick and hot, and tight. So tight. When he pushed in the final inch, Marlena gave a deep-throated cry. And he reached heaven. A sound like a growl turned into a groan escaped from his lips.

  He had never felt lust like this. He took her in the bathroom. He took her on that thick carpet. He took her again in that big bed.

  “Babe, we need to get dressed. Do you realize they know exactly what we’re up to down here?” Marlena asked at some point. Her voice was soft and husky from sex.

  But he hadn’t had enough of her yet. Steve shook his head and didn’t bother to answer since his tongue was busy. When she moaned softly, he shook his head again, just to make sure she understood he didn’t care that there were people outside that cabin who could smash in at any moment. And he kept shaking his head to show her he didn’t really care if a dozen of them entered and stood around the bed at that instant.

  “Oh, Stash—you have to—oh, stop that—” Marlena gasped, her hands mussing his damp hair as she tried to slow him down.

  The rest of her sentence was unintelligible as her hips bucked and her thighs muffled his hearing. Steve held, forcing her body down on the bed as he kept telling her no in the sweetest way he knew how. He refused to stop loving her.

  She went limp, and he buried his head in her musky essence, enjoying the moment when he knew he had her oblivious to time or space. He savored her silent trembling that started slow and became ferocious as he pushed her higher. She gasped his name over and over. Finally relenting, he slid upward, fitting into her
easily now. Her wetness eagerly welcomed him, and she was so sensitized she was already gone again.

  “Hang on, baby,” he whispered, kissing her half-open lips and mingling all her tastes together. “They can come in just in time to see you moan for me.”

  And she did moan as he moved slowly, taking his time, rocking the already wet bed as his rhythm built to a crescendo. Like an overflowing river, heat rushed forth, uncontrollable, charged with the kind of energy that threatened to crush anything in its way. Steve followed along, his orgasm crashing down like a burst dam, and everything, everything that was him, he gave to Marlena. Her arms wrapped around him tightly.

  ***

  It was only much, much later, when they were waiting to make that report to Alex that it occurred to Steve Marlena had done it to him again. She’d evaded his attempt to talk about their future. And with some sneaky Venus whatever trick. Light sweat popped up at the memory of how she had affected him.

  He scowled as he studied her profile, sitting there so nonchalantly leafing through a report. He wanted time to talk to her, and yet he’d allowed her to literally lead him around by his dick. Okay, so that trick was awesome. M for Mind-blowing, he added. Mucho Mojo Mambo, as sailors were apt to say after a wild night. He sniffed impatiently. There he went again. He had to stop obsessing about her and start a plan to corner her. Venus Butterflytrap, indeed. His forehead smoothed as he considered her through narrowed eyes. He had a trap of his own to set.

  Harden came out of the office, interrupting his line of thought. Marlena crossed her arms across her chest, obviously still mad at his chief. Steve hid a smile. She had already opined about Rick Harden in the most uncomplimentary way earlier when she’d seen the small gash on Steve’s head and demanded details about his hospital stay. He told her what happened and how he’d gotten T to help him out.

  “That man walks around with a stick in the ass, you know that? I’m going to find a way to get back at him for treating you like you’re the traitor.”

  “No one likes the idea of being viewed incompetent, or worse, a traitor, Lena.”

  “Then you work to prove otherwise! And work harder to find out what the problem is! Not sit there pointing fingers, and then, after it’s all over, take the credit. If T hadn’t intervened, I wouldn’t have given him Gorman so he could get back his badge of honor.”

  “If not for T intervening, you wouldn’t have me to rescue your sweet ass.”

  “Hah, like I can’t handle a little bit of danger.”

  Little was not the way he would describe the danger Marlena had been in, but discussing descriptive words became very unimportant when she had distracted him again.

  Harden’s smile wasn’t its usual chilling grimace. A little warmth actually lurked in those eyes. “I’ve been told you’re working in some special position between agencies now,” he said. “It’s a good move. There needs to be more communication, and it’ll help that I can reach you to ask questions.”

  It was another concession. He was telling Steve he trusted him now to go to him if he needed to get or pass information. Even Marlena got the point. She noticeably relaxed and unfolded her arms.

  “If it works out,” Steve said. “I don’t know yet. I’m still feeling the ropes.”

  Harden nodded. “You’ll do well. The job needs someone who can take an active part in an operation and then disperse both military and intel matters to relevant contacts. These past months, you’ve shown you can handle intel work, and with your SEAL training you’ll be perfect for this, making good use of both your skills. Not every military man can handle intel, and not every intel operative can do fieldwork.”

  It was ironic to get a compliment from the man now. “Thanks, Harden,” Steve said.

  “We’ll talk later. I have to start gathering evidence on a number of people connected with Gorman, maybe find a couple who will supply more on him.”

  “Check out the operative I replaced when I first came,” Steve suggested. “Something tells me his death wasn’t an accident.”

  Harden frowned. “Sorvino? Maybe so. I’ll look into it. If you need to know what we find, just give me a call.” He jerked his chin toward where he’d just come from. “Good luck in there. Diamond asks some tough questions. Just a warning. Nice seeing you again, Miss Maxwell.”

  “Thanks,” Steve said, and Marlena murmured something polite. He gave her a warning glance as she stood up. From the little he had managed to get out of her, Alex and T were an item, just as he suspected, and she thought Alex needed a lesson because of something that had nothing to do with her. Blue eyes glinting, lips set in a stubborn line, she looked ready for battle.

  Steve opened the door and she brushed past, giving him a wink. He quirked his lips. Something told him he was going to be liaising his ass off.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Arrogant bastard. Cold-hearted SOB. Relentless devil.

  The man at whom she was silently hurling those insults looked at her with those piercing eyes, a glimmer of impatient humor in them as she dodged and evaded his questions. She knew what kind of operative he was and that his training would get through her act of resistance without any problems, but he appeared quite willing to wait it out. He didn’t demand what he wanted to know. He didn’t ask nicely, either. He just made it clear they weren’t leaving his sight until he got what he wanted. And what he wanted was T.

  The overhead light glinted off his sun-kissed hair, but that was the only thing about him that was fair. “She came to D.C. at your request,” he said in that silky voice that emanated danger, “so I know you can communicate with her easily. According to your own words, she showed up and rescued you twice, once at the function and this last time, when you were kidnapped. Don’t you think that as chief of operations of her last mission, I should track her down and debrief her on this follow-up operation? And if so, are you willing to follow me back to Center and report to Jed yourself about your conclusions of what I need or don’t need to do?”

  Marlena tried not to glare at Alex. As she had just been thinking, he didn’t fight fair at all. She knew without asking he was very aware that she hated team stuff, that going back to Center would mean playing by the rules there. And knowing Jed and his reputation, he would leave her playing footsie at Center for months before he let her meet with him. Because that was what Center was. They subjected their operatives to tests there.

  Alex was Number One to Jed’s Number Nine in that special team of commandos. One couldn’t go higher than Jed. She was being subtly told she could fight the whole group of men that T had been with for two years, or she could give up the information now. Or later. It didn’t matter.

  What bothered her was why Jed wouldn’t just tell Alex where T was. So she made one final attempt to escape. “Protocol says you should refer to the personnel files and see who signed and approved T’s request for transfer. That kind of approval comes from way up, and I can’t just override them,” she pointed out, somewhat smugly. “It must be Jed who gave the final say-so.”

  Marlena noticed a muscle ticking along Alex’s jaw line, but his light blue eyes were hard and fathomless. His lips barely moved as he replied, “I gave the final approval.”

  She raised a brow in surprise. “What’s the matter? Changed your mind?”

  He’d been sitting there so still that when he leaned back in his chair, she actually caught her breath because her first impulse was to step back from a possible attack. That was how much animal magnetism the man had. And she wasn’t the one he was after, either; she couldn’t help wondering how T ever escaped him.

  He subjected her to the kind of scrutiny that would make most people talk just to break the tension, but she wasn’t T’s student for nothing. She kept her expression blank.

  Throughout their exchange, Stash had been quietly taking it all in. That didn’t surprise Marlena at all. That was how he approached any new situation—watch first, attack later. He was probably enjoying watching her squirm.

  �
�Let’s talk about the laptop. Who has it?”

  “T,” she replied truthfully.

  “And the initial merger of Steve McMillan’s assignment under the admiral with ours. Who was the mediating operative?”

  Marlena paused. She had a bad feeling about this new tactic. “T,” she acknowledged reluctantly.

  “I see. How about your backup, if there was any chance of danger? Who would take over the sale to Maximilian Shoggi?”

  She paused. Glared. “T.”

  “Lastly, with your record of not making reports to Center, who in GEM debriefs you first before making the reports to Jed personally?”

  She gritted her teeth. “T.” She heard Stash shifting in his seat and didn’t turn his way to see what he was up to. She just knew he was trying not to smile. She could feel his amusement.

  Alex continued gazing at her in that calm, expectant manner. “Since T is deep underground, and you know so much about T’s activities and you are GEM, I think it’d be useful to have you assist me in the coming months. I need a report of the big picture of all the operations from the last two years that focused on Maximilian Shoggi. Your expertise in arms dealing, especially in the diplomatic and social circles, is what T was really good at, and we can use you to gain insight on how to get at them from GEM’s angle. When can you be ready?”

  No way. She wouldn’t go near that group of commandos if they all looked like walking advertisements for outdoor life. Their reputation was legendary. She would never escape their team analysis stuff. She wasn’t like T, couldn’t function in a team. She was having problems trying to think of Stash and her together, let alone nine of these guys hovering over her shoulder, watching every little thing she did. Ugh.

  “On the other hand,” Alex continued when she didn’t reply, “you can’t speak Russian, which is a bit difficult, since part of T’s job was to go on assignment with me when I travel as Sasha Barinsky. Perhaps we can enroll you in a course at Center, but I don’t know whether you’re a quick study or not.”

 

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