by Lucy Farago
“Do you always take this much time deciding how to get a man’s pants off?” he said, not trying very hard to restrain his laughter.
“I don’t want to hurt your knee.”
“I see. Taylor, you know when you fell in the creek? Was it fun going back to the cabin?”
Soaked, her jeans had made it an uncomfortable walk. “You’re not going anywhere,” she pointed out.
“I’m also not wearing any underwear.”
Her eyes drifted back to his bulge. Yes, she could see how a zipper on wet skin might… Quickly, and using both hands so as not to cause him pain, she unzipped his pants. His sigh of relief would have been comical if not for what bopped in the water. She bit her lower lip. Where had he been hiding that? Was it rude to stare? The question had barely left her head before she realized what she was doing. She reached out and touched him. Monty’s flinch brought her back to her senses. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he snickered. And either the acoustics in the cavern did funny things to her hearing or she’d have sworn she caught a twang in his words. Which was super sexy.
Monty cleared his throat. “Are you going to finish the job?”
Right. She maneuvered her hands into his front pockets and tugged far enough down to allow water to create an air bubble. From there, she was able to slip the wet cargoes off with little effort. And before she knew it, he was naked. Gloriously…beautifully…naked.
She remembered his knee. “Does it hurt?” she asked, her arousal dimmed by genuine concern.
“Not anymore.” He tugged her into his arms.
“You know I meant your knee.”
With a very agile hand, he unclipped her bra and tossed it onto the pile. “Much better.” His approving smile made her toes curl.
Taking her by the waist, he hoisted her out of the water enough so that her breasts were level with his mouth. She wasn’t sure if it was his appreciative hiss or the cool air, but her nipples went rock hard. He pushed her back against the wall. “Your turn,” he said, with a nod toward the ledge.
She obliged him and gripped the same crevice he had, then watched his nostrils flare as the position presented her to his stare. The way he looked at her… It went beyond his liking what he saw. It was…she couldn’t find the words, but the ache between her legs throbbed. Unlike hers, his touch wasn’t gentle. He cupped her in both hands and sucked hard on one nipple while his thumb tormented the other. He slipped his leg between hers and that magnificent erection slapped her belly. Maybe it was the warm water against her skin or the man’s mouth and hands paying the most exquisite attention to her breasts, but her nipples had never been this sensitive. She arched into him and clamped her legs around his thigh. A little shaken by how out of control he’d made her feel, she tried to squirm away from his mouth, but he held her tight and the torture continued. It had been far too long, and she was unable to stop herself. The cavern echoed his name from her lips and several long seconds later, when it was over, she was certain her grip had cracked the stone.
She lay her head on the ledge, trying to catch her breath, but Monty had other things on his mind. He removed her pants and had a finger inside her before her pulse had a chance to slow. She should have known the man would be relentless, and before she had time to joke about his control issues, another orgasm silenced her teasing. Trembling, her arms turned to Jell-O. She slipped off the ledge and sank beneath the water. Monty met her, and with his lips lowered to hers, swam them to the surface.
“Are you trying to kill me?” she said, half joking.
“I wanted you to remember me.”
“Are you going somewhere?” They’d eventually part ways, but what a strange thing to say now of all times.
“No, but I realized I wasn’t going to be able to…I mean, with the team traveling the world, Ryan demands physicals every six months. But I wouldn’t presume that you would be okay with it…or that you were on birth control?” he said, looking hopeful.
“Spit it out.” She knew what he wanted but figured she’d have some fun with him.
“We don’t have condoms.”
“When did you realize—?”
“When you were ogling my junk.”
And yet he hadn’t stopped. “Junk? Ha. More like junkyard. Have you see that thing? It’s ginormous. Do they even make condoms that big?” He’d tried and failed to embarrass her, but, my oh my, how she’d turned the tables on him. He was speechless.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again. Nada. Didn’t most men like to brag about what they had in their pants?
“Okay, well, I’m good for at least another month. Thanks.” She shrugged unapologetically.
“Glad to be of service.” His wide grin surprised her.
He’d clearly been disappointed about the condoms, and yet now, he seemed okay with it. She almost felt bad for teasing him. Almost. “In the emergency pack. You get them. I still can’t move.”
“You…found…condoms?”
“Yes.”
“And you thought you should pack them?”
She almost hadn’t, but with the way things had been going between them… Growing up with everything at her disposal, when she’d left that world behind, she’d quickly become the girl with safety pins in her bag. Why not condoms? “Yes.”
His kiss, fast and brutal, was mind-zapping. Now her brain was as nonfunctional as the rest of her. And if she thought his front was hot, when he propped his hips onto the ledge to snag the pack, the ass left her speechless. Women everywhere needed to find their own computer nerds. Alas, the man’s agility was disappointing. He had that condom out of the wrapper and covering him way too fast. Back went that magnificent derrière into the water. He was on her before she could mourn the loss.
She secured her legs around his waist as he maneuvered them to the far side of the pool. Perched on an underwater ledge, she tried to reverse them, thinking it’d be easier on his leg if she did most of the work. But of course, he’d have none of it. He’d blown her mind not once but twice, and it was only fair to let him have his way on this. She braced one hand on the ledge while the other reached between to curl around him.
“Not a good idea.” His words were raspy, sexy.
With a cocky grin, she repositioned him at her core. “Just lending you…a hand.”
He leaned in. “Did you think I couldn’t find it?” Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he forced her back and snagged her nipple between his teeth, where he reciprocated her teasing.
“No,” she all but purred. “Simply wondering what was taking you so long.”
That was the wrong…or maybe the right thing…to say. He drove himself into her.
The rest was a haze of emotion and sensation. Water lapped at her chin, and twice she got a mouthful. The cavern filled with the sounds of their lovemaking until she didn’t know what came out their mouths and what echoed. Her hip hit the wall so hard it would leave a bruise and she didn’t care. She clung to him for dear life, more than ever thankful he’d found her.
She’d sworn never to rely on anyone, to become self-sufficient, but this need wasn’t the same as the other. As she gave him control over her body, she felt helpless only in how much she wanted him. It was ridiculous, this man she’d just met having this power over her. And when his body grew rigid, she drew him in tight, locked her legs around his hips, and clamped her mouth over his. She held him until the last of his tremors subsided, believing they were a team, in this and their survival. Before he’d known about the condoms he’d seemed prepared to walk away. He’d made no demands and continued, even knowing they had no protection. Monty would never use her. Not like her so-called friends and certainly not like her father. A team, she repeated to herself. At least for now.
* * * *
They’d stayed in the cavern for a long while, floating, enjoying the water and eac
h other. Her fingers pruned, her hair stuck to her face and neck. It didn’t matter. They talked and talked. She tried to get him to tell her his name…he didn’t. And when he said how shocked his friends would be that he’d not only gone into the spring but had thoroughly enjoyed it’s healing properties, they’d laughed.
“I don’t think that’s what they meant,” she said, swimming circles around him.
“Hey, they can heal their way and I’ll heal mine. I’ll take you over soaking alone or with any one of them any day.”
“Thanks. It’s good to know I rank above solitude or The A-Team.”
He laughed. “The A-Team?”
“You mentioned a big scary guy. Another who likes to blow things up. Nerd,” she said, pointing to him. “And I’m sure somewhere in there you have a guy who smokes cigars and loves it when a plan comes together.”
“You know what I love?”
“A special on laser ink?”
“No.” He caught her wrists and held her against him. “I love that sound you make right after you scream my name.”
“I did not scream,” she protested. “Everything is extra loud in here.”
“Huh. That’s your story?”
“It’s not a story.” She called out his name—the one he’d give her—to prove it, and smiled unapologetically when her voice echoed.
“You were a little louder than that.” He squeezed her butt and tugged her closer, his erection prominent between them. “Maybe I just like when you shout my name.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, smiling as she kissed him.
“Let’s go back to the bunker and you can try to prove me wrong.”
Which they did. Which she didn’t.
* * * *
“Your friends,” she said, finishing off her last spoon of another hot bowl of canned chili. “They seem to care about you.”
“In their own sick way. But they’re the only family I have, so I tolerate their bullshit.”
“You have no one?” Maybe that was why she felt a connection to this man. Two abandoned souls. Only she tried to fit in to her new world, whereas Monty tried to make the world fit him.
“My mother had no family. None she shared with me anyway. Three of her husbands are still alive. One couldn’t stand me, and the feeling was mutual. One I see from time to time, but he remarried and had kids of his own, a new life without me in it. The last one is in jail.”
“Really? For what?”
“Murder.”
“Oh my God. I hope that was after your mother’s death.”
“Actually…” He wiped his mouth on the paper napkin. “It was my mother he killed.”
Her eyes bulged and she tried to rein it in, but really, how did one do that? Monty’s mother had been murdered? By one of her husbands? “How awful.”
He shrugged. “Like I said before, she was always looking in the wrong places.”
Did he mean that? Or was he mourning a woman who, from what he’d told Taylor, didn’t know how to love her son? “How did it happen?”
“He shot her in a drunken rage. At least that’s what the cops told me.”
“You weren’t around?”
“No. I left just after high school. I couldn’t get away from there fast enough. I knew he was bad news, but she never listened to me.” He picked up their bowls and brought them to the sink.
“It’s not your fault,” she said, thinking he was blaming himself for her death.
“Oh, I know that,” he said with absolute conviction. “It was hers. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame women who stick around with abusive husbands. They’re in a whole different category than my mother. She knew this guy had a record. She knew he had a temper.”
“Are you sure about that? Maybe she didn’t see it.”
“And maybe she thought it was only the nerdy kid with the taped glasses he liked to punch.”
This kept getting worse and worse. “He hit you?”
“Once. Then I made sure he couldn’t catch me again. I may have been skinny, but I was fast.”
“I’m sorry.” Her childhood may have been loveless, but she’d never had to worry for her well-being…only her sanity.
“I got over it a long time ago. And I refused to let my mother define me,” he said. “I guess we do have some things in common. You’re doing the same.” He took her hand and led them back to the bedroom.
“My life was self-indulgent. Yours was so much harder.” Her complaints were petty compared to what he’d lived through.
“Having a full stomach might make it more tolerable, but neglect is neglect.”
“I don’t see it that way.” She didn’t want him thinking she saw herself as a poor little rich girl. She didn’t bother stripping off her sweats; instead, she crawled under the covers fully dressed. The room hadn’t been cold earlier, but she was fairly certain that had been because they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other.
“What my father did…tried to do, was unforgivable, but I was an adult by then.”
He joined her under the covers and lay with her, nose to nose. “I don’t think that mattered. What about your friends? Did you ever tell them what he’d done?”
“It’s amazing how quickly friends disappear when you’re not flying them to St. Tropez for the weekend.”
“I’m sorry.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“It was a good thing. I never had to work hard in school, but college was a struggle for me. Friends would’ve been a distraction I couldn’t afford. Literally. And Bubbe kept me sane.”
“The family you roomed with, yes, you promised me stories.”
She smiled, remembering the old woman and her crazy ways. It was nice to have some good memories, and it was nicer to be able to share them.
Someone much wiser than she might only see it as sex. That she and Monty were forced to be together, so why not have some…fun? And it was that…and more. She’d like to think she’d made a new friend, her first in a very long time, if ever.
“This one time…” she began.
Chapter 16
“I’m coming with you.”
“My leg is fine,” Monty argued, draping his gloves over the computer screen. He’d never admit it to the guys, but the spring water had actually helped. “I promise not to be gone long,” he repeated for the umpteenth time.
“Said the man who nearly got himself blown up.”
She stood there, looking so cute in her snow pants, he’d rather take her back inside than adjust the outside cameras. They’d had an amazing night and an even greater morning. While he couldn’t say it was better than the sex, he’d enjoyed the talking part very much. “I don’t need you to babysit me. The fewer footprints the better.”
“Right, so let me fix the cameras. That tree will hold my weight better than it will yours.”
“I wasn’t planning on climbing it. I’ll use an extension pole.” Now that they had power. He’d be able to monitor the outside area.
“Then so will I,” she said, throwing on her coat.
“Why are you being so stubborn about this?”
“Why are you? Are we a team, or aren’t we?” She tugged the zipper under her neck. “You told me we worked well together and you don’t work well with anyone.”
That was true, but the cameras had to be positioned the right way or they’d be useless. “I need you here.” He pointed to the lit computer screen displaying snow-covered branches. “I need you to tell me what you see. The cameras are pointed down.” Their only visual was of the ground under the trees. “We need them to point out. This job is important.”
“Then you do it.”
Their argument was cut short by a loud ping.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Monty quickly tapped out the response code. “It’s my tea
m.” He grabbed a seat at the same time Carrie’s face popped up on the screen. He was never so happy to see her.
“Got him,” Carrie yelled over her shoulder to someone in the background. “Are you all right?”
“Clearly,” he said, just to be a pain in the ass.
Dozier poked his ugly mug over Carrie’s shoulder. “What the fuck, Monty? We put you there to relax, not tangle with the fucking Russians.”
“I take it you got my SOS.”
“Fuck your SOS. Did you blow the cabin?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Well for one thing, you’re in the bunker. And Carrie,” Dozier nodded toward his assistant. “She alerted us to the panic button going off.”
“It stopped transmitting,” she corrected him with a roll of her eyes.
She’d interned with them while she’d been in college, but Ryan had seen her potential and hired her. Although she was young, she didn’t take any shit from the guys. He’d taught her well.
“I didn’t know it had a monitored transmission.” That was his department. Why hadn’t they told him?
“I suggested a constant power source when they,” another roll of her eyes “came up with this brilliant idea. I wanted to ensure functionality. When it stopped, I tapped in for a visual using the satellite—”
The screen went fuzzy.
“What happened?” Taylor asked.
Monty checked the generator. No problem there. “Could be a bunch of things. Snow, the satellite we’re using.”
