“Rest,” he said and kissed the top of my head. “Now.”
I swallowed. “I think you and I have very different ideas about the best use for a bed.”
“No.” Donovan’s features grew taut, intense, as he pushed my hair away from my face. “Not one damned bit different at all.”
CHAPTER SIX
Where’s my Glock?
Donovan and I reached for each other at the same time and I groaned against his lips when they met mine. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and kissed me slow and gentle. I’d expected hard, fast, urgent.
The kiss was breathtaking, and he was in complete control. I couldn’t have changed his dominance at that moment if I’d tried.
God, he tasted good. A familiar rumble rose in his chest, his sound of need making mine stronger than ever. Heat bolted from my belly button to the wetness between my thighs. I ached so much, I wanted to strip, climb him, wrap my thighs around his hips, and have him take me right where we stood. Forget slow and easy sex. I wanted him inside me now.
His cock felt solid as he pressed it to my belly, his jeans rough through my thin blouse. I moaned again and wrapped my arms around his neck. His musky scent enveloped me, intoxicated me to the point my mind felt like it might really start spinning. Who needed champagne?
Donovan moved his lips from mine to the side of my mouth before laying more soft kisses along my jawline. I started to say something—I’m not sure what—when he bit my nipple through the cotton blouse. I gasped then clenched my fists in his hair as he moved his mouth to my other breast and gave that nipple a soft bite, too.
“Donovan.” I almost stuttered his name as he licked and sucked my nipples until my blouse was wet where his mouth teased me. “I—”
The strength he used when he pressed his fingers between my thighs caused me to cry out. I swear I could feel him already sliding his fingers through my slick folds even though I was wearing jeans.
I clenched Donovan’s shoulders as I tipped my head back while he rubbed his cock against my belly and stroked his fingers between my thighs. Did I smell my own musk even though my clothes were still on?
The buttons on my shirt felt slippery as I fumbled with them, trying to hurry and get it off. Donovan wasn’t any help as he nuzzled my neck and made me gasp and cry out at every one of his erotic touches, which caused my fingers to fumble even more.
Had to breathe. Had to get my shirt off. Had to get Donovan inside me.
It took too long as far as I was concerned, but I finally unbuttoned my blouse all the way. Now how was I going to get my bra off without him letting go of me? I really had to make sure I was always wearing one of my front-clasp bras.
Donovan made low growling noises while I shrugged off my blouse then tried to bring my breathing to a normal level as I squirmed in his arms. He moved his fingers to the back clasp of my bra and then I was flinging it across the room.
His palms were flat on my back as I met his gaze. Both amusement and dark desire was in his eyes.
“Payback, Donovan,” I said, my voice husky, as I reached between us and grasped the hard ridge of his cock, so big and long against his jeans.
“You’ve always liked to live dangerously.” He narrowed his gaze as he grabbed my ass again. I gripped his shoulders as he carried me to the bed.
Yeah, with Donovan the more dangerous, the better.
The mattress barely gave when he laid me on my back on the soft comforter, but it dipped from his weight when he got on. He moved between my thighs, which he pushed as far apart as he could.
“If you haven’t noticed, we still have our clothes on.” I reached for the fly of his jeans, but he pushed my hands away.
He lowered himself so that his palms were braced on the bed, his shirt almost brushing my nipples, while he captured my gaze. “You have the most beautiful green eyes.” He bent to brush his lips over my cheek. “I love seeing how they look when you’re aroused.”
Something hot exploded in my chest and I caught my breath because of the way he was looking at me.
Donovan kissed me again.
Exit rational thought.
When he took my mouth with such slow and deliberate dominance, I gave in to every sensation I was experiencing. Just feeling and going with what my body wanted.
He moved his mouth to my nipples again, licking and sucking, and biting. Each moan and cry I made came out with such unexpected force that my voice seemed to bounce off the bedroom’s walls as the sounds reverberated through my body.
Wonder if the neighbors could hear?
Forget that. Who could give a damn when having sex with Donovan?
A shudder ran through me as Donovan licked my nipple with a long stroke. “I’ve always loved your breasts,” he murmured between flicks of his tongue. “The salty taste of your skin.”
Donovan moved lower and unbuttoned my jeans. Every word he said sent pulsing sensations through my body, and all I could do was fall into what he was doing to me.
He pulled my socks off before he tugged down my jeans along with my panties. He dragged them past my hips to my knees, and then my jeans fell to my ankles as he pushed my thighs apart. I squirmed and kicked my jeans the rest of the way off as he took a deep, audible breath.
“God, but I love your scent and tasting you here.” He plunged two fingers into my core at the same time he buried his face in my folds.
I gasped then cried out as his long fingers found my G-spot and almost sent me off the edge with his first stroke. His stubble scraped my skin between my thighs, the feeling rough and erotic. He licked my clit and thrust his fingers in and out of my core. Then he pressed hard against my G-spot at the same time he sucked hard on my clit.
My body burned as if fire rushed over my skin the instant I climaxed. I fisted the comforter with my hands as my orgasm flamed hotter and hotter. So hot. God, so wild and hot. I arched my back, feeling like I was going to self-combust. Heat blazed from inside my body and it felt almost uncontainable.
Donovan kept licking and sucking, driving me crazy even as I thrashed against his face and became almost too sensitized to stand one more lick of his tongue or thrust of his fingers. I was crying out. I was whimpering. Then I was calling him names telling him the pleasure was too much. He didn’t let up until I kicked his shoulder with my heel hard enough to get his attention.
His dark hair was tousled as he raised his head from between my legs, amusement in his blue eyes. “Can’t handle it, Steele?”
“Screw you.” I wiped the back of my hand across my sweaty forehead as my core continued to spasm. I rubbed away more droplets of sweat rolling down the sides of my face from my now damp hair. “Better yet, screw me.”
Amusement remained in his gaze. “The way you were whimpering, I think anything else might be too much for you to handle.”
“Are you nuts?” I lightly kicked his shoulder again. “You are so dead if you don’t get up here and get inside me right this second.”
“Maybe.” He caught my ankle in his hand before I could plant it on his shoulder. “Maybe not.”
I stared at him. “Where’s my Glock?”
Donovan moved so that he was right over me, the hardness of his erection pressed against my folds, the feel of his shirt against my breasts rough and erotic, and the scrape of his jeans sensitizing me even more.
His scent alone was enough to make me want him, much less everything else that made up Nick Donovan. Goddamnit, I didn’t know if I’d ever stop wanting him. He reached between us, unbuttoned his jeans, and freed his erection.
Donovan drove his cock into my core in one hard, fast thrust. I gasped with pleasure that sent my head spinning. Our sex had always been incredible, but it had been utterly, unbelievably better to have him inside me without a condom after we’d had our blood tests together this summer. I could feel every hard inch of him inside me, his bare cock stroking the inside of my core.
“Christ.” I sucked in my breath as he held himself still, his cock stretchi
ng and filling me so perfectly. I arched my hips, pressing our bodies even closer together. “Get moving already, Donovan.”
His eyes met mine as he started fucking me in deep strokes, his jeans scraping the inside of my thighs with every motion. Sweat already beaded his forehead, and he set his jaws like he was trying to control himself and hold back his orgasm.
The increased sensations were almost too much as I let them sweep me away. My eyes practically rolled back in my head with every thrust as he stretched me and touched me so deep it caused me to gasp stroke by stroke.
“I don’t think I can hold back.” The strain in his voice made his words sound almost guttural.
“Then come.” I made indescribable sounds of pleasure. Nothing was better than having Donovan inside me. Every time we were together it seemed even more so. “I had mine and this feels so good it might be too much for me to handle another orgasm.” God, wasn’t that the truth.
“Lex—”
I reached between our bodies and fondled his balls and what I could grasp of his erection.
“Christ!” His cock throbbed as I tightened my grip at the base while he came.
I squeezed his cock and rubbed my hand on the inch or two that wasn’t inside me. I didn’t let up during his last several strokes and the big man shuddered when he stopped thrusting. I moved my hand away as he pressed his groin to mine, his cock still pulsing inside me.
Donovan let some of his weight pin me to the bed as he braced his forearms on the mattress and met my eyes. “Goddamnit, Steele. What am I going to do with you?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled. “Make me one of your gourmet dinners. I’m starved.”
He gave me his quirky little grin and kissed me. “Demanding, but you’re easy to please.”
“Ha.” I grinned back. “Just wait till it’s time for dessert.”
Donovan brushed his lips against mine. “Can’t wait.”
For a long time we lay together and I enjoyed the feel of being in his strong arms. It was a comfort that blocked out the real world.
But my past wasn’t like the real world. At least I didn’t want it to be. It had been mine, though. Every bloody inch by inch.
Christ. I moved away from Donovan, suddenly feeling unclean inside. I was unclean inside, no matter how hard I worked to accept what I’d done in the past, who I’d been.
“What’s wrong, Steele?” Donovan caressed my shoulder as I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
“It ruins everything.” I shook my head back and forth on my pillow. “Why can’t I make it stop?”
Donovan raised himself on his elbow and I met his concerned eyes. “Hey.” He stroked his fingers up and down my belly. “We’ve talked about this. You weren’t given any choice.” Trust him to know exactly what was bothering me. “You’ve got to accept the fact that you did what you had to.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, blocking out his handsome image. “I can see the faces of every man or woman I assassinated.” I opened my eyes and met his. “Sometimes I want them to blur, to fade away. But then I realize I deserve to remember, to see them in my dreams. It’s only right since I took their lives.”
Donovan stroked the side of my face. “Try, Lexi. You don’t deserve to feel like this all of the time. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”
I pictured the bastards at FAS. After what they’d done to me and forced me to do to others—theirs were dead faces I could live with. With satisfaction, even.
My thoughts turned to the fact that Donovan would never talk about his own past, yet he knew just about every dark secret I had.
I frowned. “When are you going to tell me what happened to make you so hard inside? Whatever it is holds you back from all of us. Not just me, but your sister, too.”
Donovan settled onto his back and I rolled onto my side to look at him. He clasped his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. The way his muscles moved and flexed beneath his shirt, and the hard look on his features, showed his power and strength. The tenseness of his jaw told me he didn’t want to discuss his past. Like always.
“I told you about what eats at my insides every single day of my life, Donovan.” I grabbed his chin in my hand and forced him to look at me. “There’s no reason why you can’t tell me what’s wrapped up so tight inside you.” His blue eyes darkened as I spoke. “It can’t be any worse than what I’ve done.”
Donovan pulled away from me as he pushed himself up in bed. “It’s different, Steele.” He didn’t look at me as he swung his legs off the bed, stood, then tucked himself in and fastened his Levi’s. “It’s a lot worse.”
“This is total bullshit.” Heat caused my skin to burn as I climbed out of bed, but this time the heat was from anger. “You need to let me inside that little black box you keep locked away so tight that I’d need at least a dozen keys to open it.”
He said nothing, which pissed me off even more.
“I’m sure it has something to do with Manning, Lloyd, Harrison, and Freeman.” I stood beside Donovan. I was naked, he wasn’t, but I didn’t feel vulnerable in the least. “Black ops? Was that it? Some mission gone bad?”
Donovan made a low growling sound in his throat as his eyes met mine. “Forget it, Steele.”
“No.” I kept my tone firm and even. “I won’t.”
“I’m going to fix dinner,” he said before he turned away.
I picked up my running shoe and almost nailed him in the ass as he walked out the bedroom door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Belgian waffle interrogation
“The madame’s fixin’ to be late,” Weiss said in our earpieces in a perfect southern drawl. He could nail any accent. Five of nine languages I speak perfectly, but I never could get down a southern drawl. Weiss was stationed at the observation apartment watching the entrance to the Elite Gentleman’s Club. “I could use forty winks. She’d better waddle that lardass out of the cathouse soon, y’all.”
Lardass. Smithe laughed over the comm and I almost snorted. In the recon vids I’d been shown before we put our plan into action, Madame Cherie was so skinny she could compete with any emaciated Hollywood actress. Her huge boobs were large enough to make her look like she should topple forward with just a step. Hollywood plastic all the way.
Donovan sat in the utility van’s driver’s seat while I was in the passenger seat. The silence between us had been thick, dark from his secrets, ever since he’d left the bedroom earlier.
“Four thirty-six.” I glanced from the darkened sky—as dark as Manhattan could get at night—to the van’s dim dashboard clock. Donovan had taken a spot next to the corner curb on this side of the stoplight. Perry and Takamoto’s rented Olds snugged up against the curb behind us on the corner on the other side of the stoplight.
“Takamoto.” The irritation in my voice wasn’t really due to the fact the madame hadn’t shown up yet. Or my disagreement with Donovan. It was more due to the fact that I was trapped, unable to get home when I felt I was needed more than ever. “Your surveillance notes show she’s never been later than three forty-five AM. Fifty minutes is a hell of a discrepancy.”
Takamoto had seen me lose my cool plenty of times before, so he didn’t miss a beat as he replied from the Olds. “This is a first since we started observing the Elite this weekend.”
“Strange,” Jensen said into her earpiece from where she and Kerrison had parked their Buick illegally three cars up.
“I damned sure hope that Giger dick hasn’t decided she knows too much and is taking care of her himself,” Kerrison said.
“Dick?” Obvious amusement was in Smithe’s voice. “Since when did the lovely new Agent Kerrison stop speaking like a lady?”
Kerrison sounded like she needed her sleep as she snapped back at him. “Fuck you, Smithe.”
Immediately Jensen jumped in with, “Don’t even give the jerk an opening.”
“We’re all getting a little edgy.” I shifted in my seat and ro
lled my shoulders. “Cut the crap.”
Donovan studied me, and I turned away. Thoughts of Mama kept burning in my brain. We had to make this op a fast one, because I needed to be there for her. I needed to be there for her.
“Yes, ma’am.” Weiss’s drawl was thicker and exaggerated this time. Almost at once he added, “Hang on. The hag’s on her broomstick. She just flew right out of the shithole.”
Hag was another word that didn’t go with Madame Cherie, who was anything but. Sexy clothing showed off her big boobs and skinny ass. She had long, sleek black hair and an oval face piled with enough makeup to hide any flaw that came with age. The woman had to be close to forty, but she did a great job of looking closer to thirty.
My blood started stirring as I mentally prepared myself for the job. Finally, some action. “Anyone following her?”
“Nope.” The connection crackled as Weiss spoke. “She’s headed straight down Sixtieth Street toward Second Avenue like usual. Three minutes and she’ll be yours.”
I huffed out a breath. A one, two, three easy op. Still, we worked the job with backup to make sure there weren’t any snags. I peered out the black utility van’s passenger-side window and at the streetlight-illuminated sidewalk. No one spoke over the comm as we waited.
Perry broke the silence as he spoke from the car on the other side of the stoplight behind us. “Madame is just about in your lap.”
I jerked down my black wool balaclava over my head so that only my eyes and nose were exposed. I glanced at Donovan whose face mask was already in place, exposing only his blue eyes and the lightly lined skin around them. His gaze had a sharpness to it that made me wonder what he was thinking about. But I wasn’t the kind of chick to ask what was on a guy’s mind every time his attention was focused on anything but me. That was for insecure women, and I’m anything but.
Cheyenne McCray - [Lexi Steele 02] Page 6
