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Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2

Page 15

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.


  I hook my thumbs inside the elastic band of my running shorts and hastily tug them and my underwear to the floor, blindly stepping out of them before toeing off my tennis shoes.

  Trey’s lips vibrate against the soft skin of my neck with a laugh. “Eager?”

  “Very. It’s been too long.”

  “Agreed, baby. Now let’s finish what you started.” Gripping the hem of my tank top, he quickly lifts it over my head and tosses it over his shoulder. My snug sports bra proves to be more of a challenge, but with a frustrated grunt, he maneuvers it carefully over my breasts and drops it to the floor.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful,” he says as he scans my naked body. Instead of shying away from his close inspection, I brush my fingers down the slopes of my breasts, along the curve of my waist, and across my hips. “And a tease.”

  I bite my lower lip and nod. Reaching forward, I loop my fingers into the waistband of his athletic shorts and tug them down to the floor, freeing his already-hard cock. Forgetting about the rest of his clothes, I wrap a hand around his thick shaft and give it a squeeze.

  Trey hisses and grips my waist, tugging me to him. The slight scattering of chest hair tickles my sensitive pebbled nipples, sending a shiver down my spine. He bands an arm around my back, pressing me tighter and lifting, allowing only my toes to dance over the carpet. Quickly he toes off his own shoes and kicks out of the shorts pooled at his feet.

  The soft duvet conforms around my back like a soft cloud. The cool thin material chills the heated skin of my back, causing goose bumps to sprout along my arms. I roll slightly as the bed dips to the left, the mattress shifting under the weight of Trey’s supporting hand.

  He licks his lips, eyes only on my breasts. Using his free hand, he twists a pebbled nipple tight while pinching the tip to the point of pain. His brown eyes sparkle, locked with my own at my gasp. A smile pulls at his lips as he lowers. With another twist, he nips at the opposite breast. My back arches off the bed, though desperate for more or to run away I don’t know.

  Slickness builds between my thighs as the earlier slow throb turns demanding. Standing straight, Trey brushes the tip of an index finger down the middle of my stomach and dips lower. A sharp inhale tightens my chest as his finger slides between my folds. Up and down he traces, pausing just outside my entrance before sliding back up to tease my tiny bundle of nerves.

  I whimper in frustration as I shoot a pleading glance at the grinning man. “And you call me the tease.” The last word is more of a hiss as he pushes three fingers inside all the way to the last knuckle.

  “Shhh, baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.” Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he keeps his eyes locked with mine as he lowers his lips to my center. My eyes roll, the lids flickering closed at the flick of his tongue against the tip of my clit just as he curls his fingers.

  It doesn’t take long before I’m crying out his name, falling into the abyss of ecstasy my orgasm induces. My chest is still heaving when he tugs behind my knees, urging me off the bed. My legs wobble, barely supporting my weight. The room whirls as Trey spins me around to face the bed. With a light shove, I fall face-first to the mattress, my nose buried in the fluffy duvet.

  “Don’t move.”

  My heart ratchets against my chest. His soft footsteps signal his departure only to return seconds later. I shiver as he trails a finger down my spine. “All you have to say is stop, understand?”

  Oh hell.

  “Baby, say you understand.”

  “Yes” is all I can manage.

  “Give me your hands.”

  Awkwardly I maneuver along the bed to reach behind my back. His calloused palms scrape along the skin of my wrists. Something soft wraps around both wrists before tightening, holding them close together. I give my arms a tug, trying to free my hands, but whatever’s wrapped around them won’t budge. A bolt of panic shoots through me, making me fight the restraint again.

  A sharp smack stings across my bare ass, halting my movement. I pant into the covers around my face. Craning my neck, I try to see over my shoulder but can’t. Hot hands grip both hips, lifting them higher into the air.

  The position is awkward, straining my muscles, but the feel of his hot body behind mine makes the discomfort disappear. I tense at the feel of him at my entrance, not knowing what to expect. Inch by inch he slides deeper, the hands holding me up tightening their grip. His pelvis presses against my ass, the heat from his skin sizzling against my own.

  Pulling out an inch, he shoves back in. Again and again he keeps going with the shallow thrusts. My sensitive nipples scrape along the bed, adding to the soft torture. Suddenly he pulls out all the way, leaving my body empty and wanting.

  My groan of displeasure cuts into a gasp of surprise as he flips me on the bed, pinning my bound wrists behind my back. A shiver of anticipation quivers in my lower belly at the look of pure desire in his eyes. Without a word he pushes my thighs wider, making room for him to move between them.

  Unlike minutes ago, this time he doesn’t ease in. With one rough thrust, he slams into me. My hands knead awkwardly into my back, making it arch higher to ease the discomfort. Teeth digging into his lower lip, Trey continues to go as deep as he can before withdrawing to the tip and pushing back inside until we’re sealed together once again.

  My pleasure builds, growing low in my belly with each of his demanding thrusts. Hand beneath my knee, he hikes my leg higher, allowing him a different angle. I cry out as my orgasm crests, pleasure bursts sending tingling sparks through my body. Trey growls through his release at the same time, elongating the ripples of pleasure.

  Our heavy breaths mirror one another’s. A smirk pulls at my lips, causing one to form along his.

  “See?” I say through my panting. “Isn’t my version of cardio more fun?”

  I relish his deep laugh. His eyes flick to the bedside table. When they meet mine, a mischievous glint sparkles behind them

  “And look at that. We still have two minutes.”

  My snappy retort melts on my tongue as his fingers slide to my center and flick against my too-sensitive clit.

  Best. Workout. Ever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Randi

  Kyle's furious screech echoes inside the limo. Oh, he's pissed. Like so pissed he might just fly down here and take me out himself. I sigh and slouch deeper into the seat.

  “Yeah, I heard you the first time,” I say. “Listen, it is what it is. I need to be here for several reasons. I'm already in Chile and—”

  “Fly the fuck home, right now,” he grits out. I’m surprised I can't hear his teeth grinding through the phone.

  “Not going to happen, asshole. I'll see you back in DC in four days. Until then—”

  “You do not want to defy me like this, Walmart.”

  “Or what?” I snort. “You'll send the marines after me? I don't require your permission on my travel and daily schedule.”

  “You'll regret this.”

  “Pretty sure I won’t.” The line goes dead before the last word can leave my lips. “Fucker,” I yell, shaking the phone before chucking it onto the seat. “Fuck!” I slam my fist against the leather armrest.

  Okay, maybe going against the president’s direct order was a dumb idea. Based on that conversation, I have now added him to my list of formidable, dangerous enemies. Not that he wasn’t penciled in before this, but based on the murderous rage in his tone just now, my choice to ignore his order tipped Kyle over the edge from angry little politician to violent, rabid killer. But what was I supposed to do? Just let the oil issue slide? Sure Taeler said she thought it was due to EPA regulations, but what if it’s something else. Here I can get answers, uncover new information. Plus I had to come, I couldn’t miss my chance to meet with the Russians to figure out what the hell they want to tell me so badly they’ve reached out several times.

  I need to be here, even if the decision has put me in Kyle’s crosshairs more than ever before. My gu
ys will keep me safe, and Taeler's new secret service team lead will ensure her safety too. I'll miss Grem a lot, but when he offered to stay behind to kick those idiot agents into shape, I couldn't say no.

  The unease of those two together on a daily basis is still there in the back of my mind, but who am I to say it's wrong if they do get together? They’re both consenting adults just like me and Trey. All I asked of Grem was for him to keep her safe above everything and use protection.

  I'd never seen a man blush like that before. It was adorable.

  Shifting against the leather, I attempt to ease the soreness in my tight leg muscles. Stupid T and Trey and their workout routines are killing me slowly. There hasn’t been an ache-free day since they put me on the stupid plan. Running a hand down my slim black trousers, I massage along the tight muscles. Already there's a difference in the muscle tone, which is kind of nice—not that I'll admit that to them. That would only encourage more running and weights.

  Outside the window, the passing of buildings slows as we approach the convention center. Arriving late to the summit isn't exactly the impression I want to make, but better late than never. As we approach, a massive crowd comes into view. Hundreds of people congregate along the sidewalk behind a row of SWAT-like officers. Their shouted words are muffled through the thick glass of the limo's windows, but the fury etched on their yelling faces, the anger rolling off the crowd, speaks for itself.

  The leather groans as I shift forward, snagging a bottle of water before twisting off the cap to take a quick sip. The cool water slides down my dry throat, relieving a portion of the rising nerves.

  What if Kyle was right about the protests and potential attacks and I shouldn’t be here?

  The limo rocks slightly at the slamming of the front doors. I slide trembling fingers down the front of my silk blouse before checking the back to make sure it remained tucked in place. Too soon the door swings open, a burst of warm humid air brushing across my face.

  The moment the heel of my black Louboutins hits the pavement, an arm locks with my own, urging me forward. The crowd continues to roar their displeasure as I'm rushed down the narrowly cleared path. The pointed toe of my right shoe catches on a deep crack in the concrete. I suck in a breath at the sense of falling, but T's strong arm tightens, gripping the crook of my elbow between his and keeping me upright as he continues moving us toward the front doors.

  Inside, the blasting air conditioning sends a chill down my spine as it brushes against my clammy skin.

  “What is that all about?” I ask, turning to face the rest of the team as they file inside.

  “Environmentalists,” Trey explains. “With all the fracking and deep sea drilling, they're here every year. Don't worry, Mess, it's not just you they're pissed at.”

  Okay, that does make me feel a little better.

  A man in a tailored gray suit approaches, a grim smile on his leathered face. Sunspots dot his forehead, extending back onto the top of his bald head. Clearing his throat first, like he wanted to make the agents aware of his approach, the mystery man steps closer.

  “Welcome, Madam VP.” Internally, I roll my eyes. “Come, the summit began this morning. I'll show you to your assigned seat.”

  When the man turns, starting back in the direction he came, I look to Trey, then T.

  “We're here, Mess,” Trey whispers as we march step for step following the man. “You focus on your job and we'll do ours. You're safe, promise.”

  I should tell them about the conversation with Kyle, make them aware of the new foe I've stirred up in case it turns into a real threat. But before I can get a word out, the man turns, lips pursed and waving a hand, urging us to hurry.

  Right.

  Swallowing back the words, I shake out my hands just before he tugs a wide metal door open, rushing us inside.

  Later. I'll tell them later. It's not like anything will happen before I have a chance.

  I hope.

  * * *

  What does one wear when attending a secret meeting potentially with the dictator of a human rights-violating country? Dress or pants? Tough decision.

  “I suggest wearing something that you can run in easily.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I stick my tongue out at Trey before turning back to my two choices.

  “So that's a no on the dress, then, because the only shoes that match are four-inch heels. But,” I say, picking up the stilettos and inspecting the spiked heel, “these could be used as a weapon in a pinch.”

  “Let's hope it doesn’t come to us needing to use your shoes as a weapon tonight. If we're at that point, I'd venture to say we're fucked.”

  That leaves the black leather leggings, black booties, and black off-the-shoulder sweater. Still facing the clothes, I smirk and let the long soft robe slide off my shoulders to puddle around my feet.

  “You're cruel,” Trey practically growls behind me.

  “What?” I respond innocently as I slide the sweater over my head. The hem falls just below the crease where my ass and thighs meet, the perfect length for leggings and to tease.

  Turning on my heels, I face Trey. Both his hands grip the doorframe as he leans into the walk-in closet, blocking the only exit. My skin heats beneath his stare. Starting at my toes, he scans up my legs, pausing at the junction between my thighs and licking his lips. The air heats in the closet, making the light sweater suddenly too warm, too itchy against my sensitive skin.

  “Tease,” he says with no bite behind it. “Now stop trying to distract me.” The heat behind his eyes simmers, leaving behind cold determination. “We leave in fifteen.” The wooden doorframe cracks at the force of his arms shoving off. “Oh, and Mess? Do me a favor tonight.”

  A single dark brow arches up my forehead in question.

  “Don't do anything stupid.”

  I huff a scoff. “Who, me?”

  With a shake of his head, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the closet once again. Without his distractions, I make quick work of tugging on the leggings, then the boots. After a hasty once-over in the mirror, I head out to meet the guys in the living room.

  I pull up short at the entry, brows furrowed as I scan the quiet room where each of the agents stands strategically at the exits and windows.

  “Something wrong?” I ask. Worry gnaws in my gut at their severe behavior. “You guys seem so serious.”

  “This is.”

  “I didn't mean it like that, T. It's just—”

  “Let’s move,” he orders, cutting me off midsentence. Three agents file out into the hall with me, Trey and T hot on their heels while another four agents follow behind.

  Five of us step into the waiting elevator before the door closes, leaving the other five on the presidential suite's floor. Tension pulses in the small space. Heat from so many bodies builds, making me light-headed. The tips of my fingers graze down Trey's suit jacket before gripping the cuff for stability. His concerned eyes flick down to me.

  I shake my head in response. Damn, when was the last time I ate? Just as the thought crosses my mind, Trey's eyes narrow and his lips purse like he heard.

  “I'll be fine,” I murmur, attempting to keep my weakness between us two. “You don't happen to have a Snickers on you, do you?”

  Something dark flashes behind his eyes as he shakes his head.

  “We need to reschedule,” Trey states loudly, his gaze never leaving mine.

  “No,” I retort, letting go of the soft material of his jacket to cross both arms over my chest. “I'm fine. This needs to happen tonight. The suspense is killing me.” My joke falls flat as every set of eyes turns to me. Swallowing, I look down to the decorative tile beneath our feat. “Poor choice of words?”

  “Yes,” the four men say in unison.

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  A sharp ding echoes in the elevator just before the doors slide open. The loud sounds of the busy lobby filter in, shattering the building awkwardness. Three agents wait for us, one holding the
door open as we file out. Again they surround me, offering protection from every angle as we march through the lobby and out the front doors. The moment I step outside, an agent tugs the limo's door open, waiting for me to climb in.

  The limo door shuts behind, Trey sealing us inside. My knees bob up and down as I chew on a pinkie nail. I'm not so crazy to have thought this wouldn't be scary, but hell if I knew it would be this intense. The seriousness of what we’re doing, where we're going, and who we're meeting with settles like a weight in my empty stomach. I press the heel of my palm against my lower abs, hoping to quell the gnawing of my insides.

  Too soon the limo slows before pulling to a complete stop. Angling my head, I look out the window, trying to see into the darkness. Three quick pounds on the roof startle me, causing me to jump out of the seat. T purses his lips but doesn’t say a word. The door handle clicks. Not a single streetlight brightens my path as I'm led through the darkened alley toward a nondescript door. My palms turn clammy as we near the point of no return.

  What's crazy—okay, maybe not for me—is I'm really not scared. I have faith that these men will keep me safe. It's the unknown, the anticipation of why this important man wants to meet with me in private, that's causing my frayed nerves and spiking anxiety. I need a plan, always, and I hate being underprepared, so this meeting is everything I hate. But what was I supposed to do, call up the Russian president and ask him for a meeting agenda? Pretty sure he'd nuke me just for calling.

  Shit, do they have nukes?

  As the door swings open, I flip through everything I studied on the plane about Russia, our tense relations, and the various countries they’re allied with—which, crazy enough, is a lot. Ever since their new president took office two years ago, various countries have pledged their support of the underdeveloped Russia, which makes me assume I'm not the first secret meeting that’s been conducted. That could be good or bad. Good that he probably just wants to win me over to mend our strained relationship, but bad that he's done this before, putting his protection detail at an advantage, whereas my agents are going in blind.

 

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