How had she fallen so hard in such a short amount of time? She, polite, practical, levelheaded Kaye? Drake was so not her type. Rude. Demanding. Hotheaded. When she dated—which wasn’t often—she preferred men with an academic background. Civilized men. Men who didn’t raise their voices to her. Men whose idea of taking a chance was drinking merlot with chicken instead of chardonnay. Men who would never dream of handcuffing her to a shower bar and making her scream with raw pleasure.
No wonder she’d been bored out of her skull.
With Drake’s hot, hard, made-to-please-a-woman body plastered to hers, it was hard to form a coherent thought, let alone an intellectual one.
But brains weren’t necessarily superior to brawn—nor were they mutually exclusive, as she’d previously thought. Drake was as cunning as he was sexy. As dangerous as he was mysterious.
Just when she thought she had him figured out he threw her for a loop.
A shiver rippled down her spine. Drake did nothing by half-measures. He didn’t hold anything back from her—his opinions, his temper, his kindness, his passion. How would it feel to be on the receiving end of that kind of devotion every day?
How did he feel about her? Besides wanting her in the most basic way a man wants a woman?
She feared that due to the intensity of their forced circumstances and heightened emotions what she felt for him wasn’t real. She might’ve romanticized him and this situation. Embellished the idea his touches were highly possessive.
But when she’d remembered his guilt for the difficult decision he’d made tonight, the absolute mastery he’d shown of her body and the sweet tenderness he’d revealed in the aftermath, a hot thrill ran through her.
A pang of regret. No matter how much she’d like to explore the long-term possibilities with Drake, his entrance into her life was a fluke. He’d return to Florida, maybe as soon as tomorrow, if he’d gotten the information he’d needed on Diablo from Tito Cortez.
She’d better make tonight count.
“Kenna?” Bobby said. “We’re back at the motel.”
She stretched. “Man. Do I need a shower.”
The side door slid open. Drake held a hand inside to help her from the van.
Kenna ducked her head and jumped to the concrete, forgetting she’d worn heels. Burning pain shot up her shins. “Ow.”
“Steady,” Drake murmured, curving his hand against her lower back for support.
Bobby hopped out and closed the door behind him. “Hey boss, we’ll be waiting in our room for a debrief.”
“I’ll be right there.”
If the debrief took half as long as the planning, she wouldn’t see him until sunup. So much for her seduction plans.
Once Bobby and Geo were a safe distance away, Drake gathered her in his strong arms. “You did great tonight. I know it wasn’t easy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You tired?”
“No.”
He rubbed his cheek against her forehead. “Hungry?”
Not for vending machine snacks. “Maybe.”
He pulled back. When he glanced down into her face, his nostrils flared. “Jesus. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a midnight snack.”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t feed me.” Kenna nipped his chin. Laved the small sting with a saucy flick of her tongue. “And you are pretty tasty.”
“Keep it up,” he growled, “and I’ll throw you up against the van and fuck you right here.”
“Mmm. Promise?” She kissed his throat. “You have a thing for sex in public places.”
Drake groaned and gave her a small head butt. “What am I going to do with you, hot stuff?”
Keep me.
Oh don’t go there. You’ll just make it harder on yourself when he walks away. Still, she tightened her hold on him, doubting he noticed.
“I’ve got to do this debrief right now. I don’t know how long it’ll take.”
“I’ll wait up.”
Surprise lit his eyes. “Really?”
“Really. But try to put the ‘brief’ back in debrief, okay?”
He kissed her so sweetly tears stung her lids. No doubt this man was going to break her heart.
They crisscrossed through the cars, motorcycles and trailers. Groups of bikers loitered in the parking lot. Cigarette smoke and laughter hung in the air. No one paid attention to them. They were just another couple calling it a night. It felt nice. Normal.
At the door to their room, Drake kissed her again, longingly, like he couldn’t bear to leave her.
“See you in a bit.”
*
Kenna woke up when the door to the motel room opened, cutting a silvery swath of moonlight through the darkness. Her gaze flew to the digital clock. She’d crashed more than two hours ago.
Drake said softly, “Kenna?”
“I’m here. Sorry. I fell asleep.” Knocking the pillows aside, she scooted back until her shoulders hit the headboard.
“Sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be.”
“In that case…” He grabbed her ankles and jerked her down the mattress.
She shrieked.
He bounced on the bed beside her. The next thing she knew, he’d hauled her on top of him. His marauding tongue was in her mouth and his hands were everywhere else. Fingertips tracked her spine to her nape. He broke the lip-tingling kiss. “Thank God you got rid of that damn wig.”
“Don’t you like me as a blonde?”
“I don’t like you dressed up as anybody else, period. You’re perfect without all the makeup and other junk.” Clutching handfuls of her real hair, he brought her mouth back to his.
Happiness burst inside her. Hot, wet, hungry kisses kicked her desire for him until she wriggled and moaned, searching for a firmer contact. He rolled, kneeing her legs apart. The bulge in his jeans ground into her throbbing sex, right where she needed it.
The man knew exactly how to touch her.
“Take your clothes off. Take them off now.”
“I still need to take a shower.”
“Excellent idea.”
Drake levered himself off the bed.
Thud. His boots hit the floor. In the dark she couldn’t see him removing his clothes, but she heard it. That purpose-filled rustling was more erotic and intimate than an all out striptease.
His hands were on her shoulders and he lifted her to her feet. “Last chance. Take them off or I tear them off.”
“Drake—”
“Do it, Kenna. I want you so bad I can’t stand it.”
She undressed like her clothes were on fire.
Immediately he rubbed his naked body against hers. “Shower,” he said gruffly, “now.”
Butterflies danced in her stomach and she retreated a step.
He followed, crowding her. “What? You aren’t going all shy on me, are you?”
“Not exactly. It’s just…” She sighed. “Umm. Well. I’ve never showered with a man before.” Praise be to the darkness that hid the telltale flush on her cheeks.
“Sweet Jesus. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“This.” Drake grabbed her hand and wrapped her fingers around his cock. “I was hard before your little confession. I’m so turned on right now, thinking about being the only man who’s ever going to see you naked, wet and slippery.”
That’s what scared her. The magnification of her flaws. In such a small space they’d be impossible to hide. “Can we leave the lights off?”
His heavy breathing gusted across her cheek when he whispered, “Not a chance in hell. I want to soap every glorious inch of you. Trace the water droplets cascading down your body with my tongue. And when I pin you to the wall and drive into you, I want to watch your face when you come.”
Her stomach dipped and swooped like she’d hopped on a roller coaster.
Without another word, he
uncurled her fingers from his erection, snagged a condom and tugged her into the bathroom.
“Stand still. Close your eyes.”
As soon as she complied, he slipped something silky over her forehead and across her eyes, tying it at the back of her head.
“The blindfold will make sure you can concentrate only on how I make you feel, Kenna. Let me make you feel good.”
She heard the shower turn on and water splattering against the plastic shower curtain. Then his hands were guiding her, his body was coaxing her under the deluge.
“Right like this. Hands at your sides.”
“But—”
“If you can’t promise to keep your hands to yourself I’ll go get the cuffs.”
“Fine.”
“Good girl.” He situated her so the hot water hit her chin and flowed down the front of her body.
Kenna sighed. The sigh turned into a moan of delight when he began to massage her back, digging his thumbs into the tight muscles between her shoulders. How did he know exactly where she carried all of her tension?
“Relax.”
“I am.”
“Liar.” He chuckled against her nape and moved his nimble fingers along her spine. His mouth followed, trailing warm kisses over her damp flesh, relaxing her and putting her on edge.
The man was relentless. He rubbed and massaged every muscle, tendon and bone in her back. Plus her neck. Her arms. Her shoulders. She stood under the spray, drowning in his glorious attentions and the steam, finding it difficult to catch her breath.
Right. Drake’s wicked mouth and magical hands were causing her to gasp, not the humidity.
He cupped her buttocks. Ground his erection into the soft cleft and growled in her ear, “Touching your slippery body like this is making me think dirty, nasty thoughts, Kenna, about how much I want to slick up my cock and fuck you every possible way known to man and beast. And then make up some new ones no one has ever tried.”
She shivered. “Drake—”
“But I’ve got to get you clean before we can get down and dirty.” The abrupt loss of his warm, smooth flesh slipping against hers made her whimper.
Kenna heard him rustling around behind her and tensed up.
A nubby washcloth skated down her spine. “You’re supposed to be loose-limbed and mindless after the sensual massage.”
“Wrong, you’re purposely trying to drive me crazy.”
“Glad to see it’s working. But I’m far from done. Turn around, hot stuff.”
The instant the water hit her back, his mouth devoured hers. He tasted wet and hot and male. She swayed forward, aching to dig her hands, her heels, her teeth, everything into his luscious form. She wanted to wrap her arms and legs around him and ride him under the shower spray until they were both spent and the water ran cold.
He pulled back. “Ah-ah, you’re distracting me. Don’t rush this. Just feel.”
Was this his way of giving her something to remember him by before he disappeared from her life forever?
She didn’t dwell on it. All coherent thoughts vanished as Drake dragged the sudsy washcloth over her collarbone. He slowed down and her senses sharpened. The pine-scented soap seemed more pungent. The lather caressing her skin was more luxurious.
His breathing became labored and echoed in the small space with each new drawn-out touch he bestowed upon her.
Kenna caught the spicy scent of her own arousal, felt the cream thickening in her core, then sliding down the inside of her trembling thighs. Her body was ready and eager for the next step in this mating dance. What was he waiting for?
Drake took his own sweet time washing her breasts. Her nipples seemed to be especially dirty. As he inched his way down her torso, she quivered. Although the water flowing over her skin was hot, it seemed ice cold in comparison to the blood that’d reached the boiling point inside her.
“You’re tensing up again.”
“Please. I can’t take any more water games. I’m going to come without you in about two seconds. I’d rather come with you, Drake. Please.”
The washcloth hit the tub and Drake’s hungry mouth swooped down in a harsh kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck and she lost her mind to pure sexual greed when her hard nipples and soft breasts connected with the firm wall of his chest.
Drake groaned in the back of his throat before picking her up, spinning her around and pressing her against the cold back wall.
He spread her knees wide, tipped her hips forward and ripped off the blindfold the same time he drove into her.
Kenna came immediately, a wet, throbbing supercharged explosion: a rainbow of light in her head, the taste of Drake on her tongue and the thrilling sound of his release in her ear.
After she’d caught her breath, Drake nuzzled the side of her neck. “Just think. I still have to wash your hair.”
*
An hour later, her skin wrinkled and water dripping down her face, Kenna clutched Drake’s muscular ass as he coaxed a third screaming orgasm from her. Oh what a marvelous way to lose her shower virginity.
*
Drake suspected Kenna was up to something.
After the vigorous session in the shower, he thought he’d be sated, for a while at least. But they’d barely made it to the bed and he was hard again. He’d made love to her unhurriedly, lost in her tiny whimpers of delight and the way she’d given herself to him without reservation. Frankly, it amazed him she hadn’t complained about his voracious appetite for her. Once he’d realized she hadn’t had much experience in making love—were all the men in South Dakota total idiots?—her complete surrender to him was even sweeter.
Entwined comfortably like longtime lovers, they’d spent the last few hours talking, touching, laughing. Strange, that he knew more about her after spending only two days together than he did with most people whom he’d known for years.
Why had their connection been so instantaneous? From the moment he’d seen her, he’d become…obsessed. He couldn’t touch her enough. Goad her enough. Drake wanted to crawl inside her brain and learn her secrets. This wasn’t normal behavior. He’d prided himself on a certain aloofness where his job was concerned.
She wasn’t just a job. Hadn’t been from day one.
Deep down he knew he couldn’t blame their immediate bond on the intensity of the situation. He’d been thrust into scenarios exactly like this one more times than he could count. Sometimes, even with a beautiful woman. But he’d never felt or acted this crazed and out of control.
Dammit. What was this elusive feeling of possessiveness and satisfaction mixed with an overwhelming sense of need every time he looked at Kenna?
It hit him like a freight train. Love.
Shit. He’d never been in love, no wonder he hadn’t recognized the signs.
But he was in love with her. He repeated the phrase to himself, I love her. Relief loosened the knots in his stomach and a strange calm settled over him. Drake always suspected that when he fell for a woman, he’d fall hard. And fast. With Kenna, he knew he’d be wiping the dust off his ass for the next fifty or sixty years from the sheer force of the fall.
He grinned. No question she belonged with him, even if she hadn’t realized it yet. He’d make her see things his way. One thing he knew how to do was execute a successful plan. She didn’t stand a chance.
“Drake?” Kenna murmured. “You asleep?”
“No.”
Her soft cool fingers lazily zigzagged down his belly. Lingered on the line of hair between his hipbones.
His cock began to stir.
A throaty laugh tickled his ear. “You are insatiable, secret agent man.”
“Only with you.”
“Does that mean you trust me?”
Kenna seemed overly anxious for his answer and he wondered again what she was up to. He said mildly, “Yeah, I suppose I do.”
She moved faster than he’d anticipated. Straddling his waist, she smoothed her palms up his torso, down his arms until she reached his wri
sts. The pillows tumbled to the floor as she pulled his arms above his head and pinned them to the mattress.
“We both know I can’t make you stay like this. And you’d never let me use your precious cuffs, so handcuffing you to the bed isn’t an option either.” She nibbled the shell of his ear fully aware it drove him insane. “So I’m asking you nicely, Drake. Keep your hands right here.”
A small kernel of unease unfurled. “Why?”
“You didn’t think you’d get away unscathed for letting those guys cop a feel at the meeting tonight, did you? You need to learn I also have consequences for bad decisions.”
Every muscle in his body went rigid; one muscle in particular.
“Let me touch you,” she whispered. “I promise it won’t hurt.”
Like he could refuse.
Kenna gently kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids and finally his mouth. Teeth nipped his jawbone, her tongue traced the cords straining in his neck. She peppered kisses over his chest, murmuring admiration for his rock-hard pecs. When she suckled his nipple, pleasure speared through him like a burning lance and his hands automatically came up to clutch her silky hair.
“Uh-uh. I’ll stop if you don’t put those interfering mitts back where they belong, Agent March.”
Needless to say, he complied.
Her wet tongue outlined every ripple in his abs with painstaking precision. A playful nip on each hipbone and she only had one other place to go.
Down.
Drake held his breath.
A delicate lick circled the crown of his cock. He managed to keep his decorum until she slid that swollen part of him all the way into her warm mouth.
“Holy mother of God.” His hips arched off the bed.
Kenna released him, an inch at a time, paused and sucked him back inside that moist heated cavern until the tip hit the back of her throat. With her mouth and hands, she created a rhythm that made him thrash on the bed like an animal caught in a trap. His balls drew tight, he braced himself for the detonation.
Then she stopped entirely. “Hold still.”
He’d never let a woman have such control. Not that he particularly liked being powerless, but the sensations coursing through him were too potent to complain. So he waited. Sweat trickling down his temple. Heart beating wildly. His hands clenched in fists above his head. His dick as hard as granite.
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