A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ve never spoke truer words in my life.”
“Okay. Take them off and come here. No strip tease this time.”
Thank God.
Drake was naked with a condom in his hand before she blinked.
Plastic crinkled as he ripped the package open. His hand went to his engorged cock.
“Let me,” she said.
“No. I’m gonna last about one minute the way it is.” He rolled the condom down and crawled between her legs. The scent of her, flowery lotion mixed with the perfume of her arousal made his gut clench. It amazed him how delicate she was, the satiny smoothness of her slim hips under his rough-skinned hands.
Drake levered himself over her, bringing their mouths together. No sweet, slow entry; he plunged inside.
She was still wet, but tight. Her sheath hugged his cock like a dream. He pulled out, rammed back in. Harder.
When Kenna gasped in his mouth, he managed to stop moving. Sweat poured from him in an effort not to jackhammer into her. He was far beyond offering her tenderness, but she deserved better than him rutting on her like a crazed bull.
Dazed, she gazed up at him. “What?”
He nuzzled her temple with his cheek. “You are so fucking hot, Kenna.”
Confusion flitted through her eyes.
Drake kissed her again. Then he began to stroke. Slow and shallow. Whatever reluctance she’d had disappeared.
Kenna arched, grabbing his ass and trying to drive him deeper.
Holy mother that felt good. But he wasn’t ready for it to be over quite yet. He fought for control.
So did she, twining her arms around him, brushing those tempting breasts and beaded nipples against his chest. Biting his neck, trying her damndest to send him over the edge.
He forced her to meet his gaze. “You.” He pushed inside her halfway. “Drive.” Then slid out all the way. “Me.” Thrust in another inch. “Fucking.” Pulled out again and paused before he whispered, “Crazy,” and slammed into her to the hilt.
Her hips came off the bed. She ground into him, meeting him hard thrust for hard thrust. Her breasts bounced from his driving force. Her short nails clawed his back, digging for purchase on his sweat-slick skin.
It wasn’t enough. Drake needed to be deeper inside her. Breaking the pounding rhythm, he leaned back. “Put your feet on my shoulders.”
She moaned, twisting her head from side to side. “God. Don’t stop now.”
“Just for a minute.” He shoved two pillows under her hips, lifting her higher.
Her toes walked up his chest until her heels sank into his collarbones.
On his knees, he grabbed her around the legs and jerked her closer, the smoothly rounded globes of her butt pressed against the hair on his thighs. He didn’t take the time to marvel at her luscious ass. His cock had taken over his thought processes and was intensely focused on one thing: reconnecting with that sublimely snug pussy.
In the next second it did.
Not a wet dream. He groaned. She groaned. He couldn’t resist that tighter clasp. The suctioning pull of her internal muscles urging him toward bliss.
Kenna reached for his hands.
Drake held on as that familiar feeling started in his balls. Harder-faster-harder-faster; he focused on the physical sensations, only aware of the driving need to mate. The emotional stuff could come later.
Much later.
Each stroke brought him closer to that intangible pleasure point until he was finally there.
He threw back his head and roared as a swirling rainbow of light exploded behind his eyelids. His brain rattled around inside his head at the sheer power of it. Seemed his life force spurted out the end of his cock in great spasms into her moist heat.
Depleted, he stopped moving and tried to regain his balance.
But the contractions continued, rhythmic clenches squeezing his cock like wringing the juice from an orange.
He glanced down at Kenna, watching as she came in silence. White teeth digging into her well-kissed lower lip, beautiful face flushed in rapture. Small hands locked to his. One final thrust of her pelvis, she relaxed and expelled a satisfied sigh.
Drake gently settled her legs beside his on the mattress. Still fully seated inside her, he lowered his head, running his tongue across the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth to him.
Her kiss was devastating. Hot and sweet. Packed with more raw emotion than he’d expected she’d show him. Then again, so far she’d held nothing back from him, in bed or out. She seemed content to let him lay on top of her, so he did.
Truth was, he didn’t know if he could move. He’d thought it would be good between them, but not like this. Not earth-shattering. Life-altering.
Drowsy, sated, surrounded by the reckless scents of passion, her warmth, her utter trust, a peaceful feeling settled over him, one he hadn’t felt in…well, ever.
Had he really only met her yesterday?
After a time Kenna grunted. “I like that you’re as solid as a rock, but I can’t breathe. And I’m thirsty.”
“Probably from moaning my name,” he whispered in her hair.
“Cocky man. You did your share of moaning too.”
“I know.” He kissed her nose and slipped from her body. “I’ll be right back.”
Drake disposed of the condom. After she’d downed two glasses of water, he shut off the light and crawled in beside her.
Unexpectedly, she twined her sleek limbs around him.
“Comfy?” he murmured, stroking her arm.
“Mmm.”
“Good.” He snapped one end of the handcuff around her wrist and the other around his.
Her eyes flew open. Then tapered to points sharp enough to slice through his skin. He merely smiled.
“Just in case you get any hare-brained ideas about taking off again.” He tenderly kissed her forehead and gathered her close. “Get some sleep.”
Chapter Eleven
Kenna snuggled closer to the furnace, luxuriating in the heat warming her body. When her nose itched and she lifted a hand to scratch it, metal bit into her wrist.
Her eyes flew open. Wasn’t a furnace keeping her roasty toasty, it was Drake.
Midnight blue eyes stared back at her. “Morning,” he said, his deep voice husky, scratchy with sleep.
Memories from last night flooded back in vivid, erotic detail. Oh God. She’d let him do whatever he’d wanted to her. Twice he’d woken her up in the middle of the night. Twice she’d come screaming his name. Embarrassment stained her cheeks and she dropped her chin to her—gasp!—bare chest.
“Don’t.” He threaded his free hand through her hair, tilting her head up to meet his uncertain gaze. “I couldn’t stand it if you had regrets.” When he tentatively smoothed stray tendrils from her damp cheek, she melted.
“I’ve never let myself go like that.”
“Then I’m glad to be the lucky recipient of that pent-up passion.” He bent forward to trail soft warm kisses from her jawbone down her throat. “You were amazing,” he murmured.
And right then, despite everything that had happened, or could happen, Kenna fell a little bit in love with him.
“You were pretty amazing yourself,” she whispered, reveling in his silky hair drifting across her skin as he bared it inch by inch to his hungry mouth.
“How about a repeat performance?”
Red-hot anticipation roared in her blood, followed by a bout of nerves. It was one thing to indulge in wild sex under the cover of darkness and an entirely different thing to expose all of her flaws in the daylight.
She blurted, “Let me brush my teeth first.”
“No.” Drake lifted his head from between her breasts. His blue eyes glittered with intent. “I like waking up with the taste of you on my tongue. I like knowing my taste is still on you.” He settled his lips over hers, gently coaxing her mouth open.
Kenna savored his long, slow kisses. His morning erection prodded insisten
tly against her belly, making her squirm closer. Immediately her body softened, readying for him.
He pulled back and said roughly, “Condom.”
“Not until you take off the handcuffs.”
After releasing their wrists, he scrambled for a condom.
Kenna snatched it from him. “Uh-huh. My turn.” She ripped open the purple package and pushed him to his side. As she rolled the condom down, her eyes drank in every impressive inch. He’d been so hot for her last night—three times!—the last go around he’d been spooned behind her—he hadn’t given her the chance to explore his remarkable physique.
She whistled. “I knew you were packin’, Agent March, but this big gun could intimidate a girl in the light of day.” She enclosed him tightly in her fist, sliding up and down his thick, pulsing shaft. A thrill shot through her when he trembled.
“Careful. That ‘gun’ is liable to go off.” When her fingers delved further, ruffling the crisp hair leading to his balls, he jerked her hand away with a growl and flipped her on her back.
Her legs parted as he mounted her. She smiled at the fierceness in his dark eyes. That smoldering look was for her. Feeling supremely confident, she wreathed her arms around his neck and whispered, “Slow this time.”
“Very slow,” he agreed.
And proved just how slow he could go.
*
While Drake took a shower, Kenna called Marissa’s cell phone. She left a message on Marissa’s voice mail telling her that she was fine and promised to keep in touch. She felt guilty. After all, Marissa was her friend. She debated about revealing more about where she was staying, but decided she’d better check in with Shawnee while she had the chance.
Shawnee’s cell phone rang repeatedly but never kicked over to her voice mail. Strange. Because the cell reception in that part of the state was sporadic, Shawnee religiously made sure her voice mail worked so she could listen to her messages.
Every time Shawnee called, she ragged on Kenna about being the only person on the planet without a cell phone. Kenna couldn’t afford the extra expense, especially when the only people who’d call her lived in her apartment complex.
When Kenna thought about it, she realized she hadn’t heard from her roommate in over a week. Kenna was used to Shawnee checking in every few days. A strange feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. What if something had gone wrong at the dig? What if Shawnee had been trying to get a hold of her but couldn’t?
Crap. Kenna dialed her own number and punched in the code for the answering machine. Two messages. Both from Shawnee.
“Hey, winyan. I hope you’re not home because you’re out whooping it up during the Rally.” Pause for laughter. “But you’re probably at the library. Just wanted to let you know I accidentally hit my cell phone with a pickaxe so you won’t be able to reach me. The dig is going fine. Hotter up here than on the rez, if that’s possible. Anyway, I’ll call when I can. Take care. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” Click.
Kenna smiled and waited for the second message.
“If you’re there, Kaye, pick up.” Silence. A muffled curse. “Okay. Something has come up. Something I can’t explain right now. Hell I don’t understand what’s going on so I have to get to the bottom of it myself. If I find out that fucker Trent had anything to do with this…” Heavy sigh.
“Promise me one thing. Don’t jump to any conclusions about anything you hear until I can talk to you, okay? If anyone contacts you don’t believe anything they tell you. None of this is my fault. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, especially not now when we’re so close. And I am going to find the answers, even if it means talking to some friends of my father…shit. Hang on.” A crackling noise like she’d placed her hand over the receiver, then, “Look. Someone is coming. I’ve got to go. Don’t freak out. I’ll explain it all next time I see you, I swear.”
The line went dead.
Kenna stared at the receiver. What was going on? Shawnee never panicked. About anything. And what the hell did Trent have to do with anything? Is that why Shawnee was in Sturgis yesterday?
The water shut off. She’d worry about Shawnee later. She hung up before Drake caught her and grilled her on who she was calling. Sounded like Shawnee had enough problems without adding the DEA into the mix.
Drake emerged from the bathroom naked. “It’s all yours.”
Kenna feigned nonchalance, keeping her gaze on the stubble coating his lean cheeks and square jaw and not on the way his cock bobbed and seemed to be beckoning her closer. “Aren’t you going to shave?”
“Nah. The scruffy beard makes me look more like a badass biker.” He paused, fixing his eyes on the area between her thighs. “Did I give you whisker burns last night?”
“I haven’t looked.”
Grinning, he strode toward her. “Allow me to check.”
“No!” She scrambled off the bed, keeping the sheet as a cover. “Don’t we have spy stuff to do today?”
That got his attention. He changed from hot lover to coolly professional spy guy.
The transformation reminded Kenna why she was really here; how much was at stake. As much as she’d like to stick around and see what other erotic tricks Drake had perfected, after the meeting tonight, she’d have to walk away. Or sneak away, as the case may be.
No harm, no foul, right? One-night stands were old hat for most people. So why did she feel like she’d be leaving a piece of her heart behind in this ugly hotel room?
“What’s wrong?” Drake asked.
Kenna managed a smile. “Nothing. I’d better get dressed before we meet Geo and Bobby.”
“You going to shower?”
She yanked the strap on her heavy duffle bag and dragged it behind her. “No. Maybe later.”
“There might not be time later.”
She stopped in front of him, close enough to touch him, although she didn’t. “Remember how you said you liked the taste of me on you? Well, same goes. I like the smell of you all over me. I don’t want to wash it off.”
Kenna swept past him into the bathroom and locked the door.
Great. His dick was hard again. Drake shoved his hands through his hair, and paced, feeling agitated, edgy, antsy. And for once it had nothing to do with his job.
He had it bad. He was absolutely nuts about his informant.
Hell. He was so screwed. Frustrated, he picked up the wet towel he’d dropped and whipped it hard at the cock-eyed headboard. Didn’t help.
Dwelling on it or her wouldn’t change the situation. Determined to keep a professional distance, he dressed quickly and by the time Kenna surfaced from the bathroom, he’d gotten himself under control.
Drake gave her what appeared to be a cursory glance—when in his mind he devoured every detail. She’d dressed more to the personality of Kaye than Kenna today. Ankle-length loose khaki pants, a modest olive green tank top and ratty tan Birkenstocks. She hadn’t bothered with make-up. It didn’t matter. She still looked good enough to eat.
“Bobby and Geo are bringing back lunch,” he said. “Hamburgers okay?”
She nodded.
Drake rifled through his notes, deliberately avoiding her gaze. “Are you wearing that tonight?”
He didn’t see her wince.
“No. I brought another outfit.” She paused, shuffled her feet. “Do you want me to change into it now?”
“Later is fine.” He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.”
*
Later, as Drake conferred with Geo and Bobby, Kenna alternately read and dozed. She’d been unnaturally quiet all afternoon. He’d almost convinced himself her nervousness about the meeting had caused her wariness. Yet he had a sneaking suspicion he’d made a tactical error on the relationship front.
Drake snorted. What relationship? Guard and prisoner? When he had the information he needed on Diablo he’d be on a plane for Florida. Kenna knew the score and wouldn’t expect anything more…would she?
He glanced at her sleeping in the chair.
“The reports you asked for came back,” Geo said.
“Anything?”
“Surprisingly, yes. Got a hit on two of them. Whose do you want to hear first?”
“Read me Trent’s.”
Geo slid on his reading glasses. “Our buddy Trent was arrested in Ohio for unlawful discharge of a firearm within city limits a few years back.”
So despite Kenna’s denial, Trent could’ve been the one who’d shot at them. “He do any time?”
“Slap on the wrist.”
“Anything else?”
“Brought in a couple of times for suspected gang activity. Released without being charged. Nothing since he moved here, except a couple of speeding tickets. His credit report is a nightmare. Guy doesn’t have a pot to piss in.”
Definitely a motive there. “Marissa?”
“Clean as a whistle except for a few parking violations.” Geo frowned and scrolled down.
“And the girl?”
“Shawnee? Beautiful woman, at least in this picture.” He passed the photo to Drake. “Doesn’t she look like an Indian princess? Tiny little thing. She can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds—”
“I don’t want her measurements, Geo.”
Geo scowled and tucked the picture back in the manila folder. “Ah sure. Anyway, that’s not the interesting part. Seems the Indian princess has a criminal record. She’d been in and out of juvenile on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Since those records are sealed I don’t have a clue why she spent time in there. Then at age eighteen, she did a year in the county jail on an accessory with intent to distribute charge. She skated by without being charged a felony because she cut a deal with the Feds and testified against her co-defendant.”
“You shitting me?” Kenna’s roommate was a convicted drug dealer? God, did she even know about that?
“No. And it gets better. Know who Shawnee’s co-defendant was?”
“Who?”
“Her father, Royal Good Shield. After she rolled on him he got twenty-five years in the state pen.”
Drake whistled. “Anything since?”
“Nope. Kept her nose clean, according to the report. Finished college. Works freelance for the BIA and the South Dakota Department of Transportation in mapping Sioux burial sites.” Geo tossed his glasses on the table and sighed. “But we both know how hard it is to resist going back to a normal life once they get a taste of a bigger payoff.”
Running With the Devil Page 10