He lay there for a long moment, and finally after five minutes, he figured he’d given her enough time to wash. If she hadn’t, he’d finish the job for her.
He got off the bed and went into the bathroom, where the steam from the shower had already fogged the mirror. She was standing motionless in the shower, her body blurred by the glass.
It was enough to send his blood roaring to life. God almighty but he couldn’t explain her effect on him. It was crazy and left him feeling unbalanced.
He opened the door, and before she could turn around, he slipped into the shower with her, his body molding to hers. She started to turn, but he stopped her, holding her still.
He lowered his mouth to her neck, where little droplets of water beaded and rolled down her skin. Her knees buckled and she threatened to fall when his teeth sank into the slim column of her throat. He caught her and held her tight.
“Put your hands on the wall.”
She put her palms on the tile and slid them up until her arms were above her head. He arched against her then reached down and hooked her right leg with his hand. He pulled up, lifting her while he held her steady with his other arm.
While the water beat down on them, he thrust into her, finding her warmth all over again. It was never enough. It would never be enough.
In the back of his mind, a warning flashed. He hadn’t used a condom, but he was lost in the feel of her silky heat against his bare flesh. His mind screamed stupid, but the male roared that she was his and he’d take what was his.
She tightened around him. Her fingers curled into fists against the shower wall. She threw her head back, arching into him as he marked her neck with his mouth.
His.
It was primitive and hard core. It puzzled him even as he knew it couldn’t be explained.
“Mine,” he whispered.
His release when it came was quicksilver. A lightning flash that was intense and painful and had him arching to tiptoe as he strained to get deeper.
She made a small sound, and her hands slid down the walls as if she’d lost any remaining strength. She sagged and he caught her gently to him. He was filled with an odd tenderness as he reached up to turn the water off and then settled her into his arms.
He stepped from the shower and put her down long enough to wrap a towel around her. For a long time they stood there, her forehead resting on his chest as they both tried to catch up.
She snuggled sleepily into his arms, and again, guilt assailed him as he imagined how tired she must be. He kissed the top of her head.
“Let’s go get some sleep. You’re exhausted.”
She turned her face up to his and smiled even as her eyelids drooped. Then she rose up on tiptoe to curl her arms around his neck.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 2
SAM woke with Sophie in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. He was tempted to roll over and slide between her legs and wake them both up with a quick orgasm. But she looked tired and a little fragile, like maybe she’d had a rough night at work.
He pulled her closer and ran the tips of his fingers up and down her arm. The strands of hair closest to his mouth fluttered with his every breath, and he hooked a finger around them to pull them away from her cheek.
Her eyelids fluttered and opened, and sleepy blue eyes stared back at him.
“Good morning,” he murmured
She responded by snuggling deeper into his side. Her sigh was all he heard, and her arm crept around his waist, linking them tighter together.
He chuckled lightly and kissed the top of her head. “Content?”
“Mmm hmmm.”
It was easy here in this hotel room. Everything else seemed a world away and they were removed from reality. He wasn’t stupid enough to embrace that, but it was nice, just for a while, to get a sense that the only thing that mattered was right here and right now.
“Feel like eating something?”
She raised her head. “What time is it?”
“Seven.”
Before she could respond, a knock sounded at the door. What the hell? He frowned, then eased from underneath Sophie.
“Stay here and out of sight.”
He yanked his jeans on and went to the door, opening it just a crack. The man from the front desk stood there holding a sealed envelope.
“For you, señor. It was marked as urgent.”
Sam took the envelope. “Thank you.” He closed the door and turned the envelope over in his hand. It didn’t have a name, but then he hadn’t used his real name here. It was only marked “304 Urgent.” Underlined three times.
He glanced up at Sophie, who sat up in the bed, the covers drawn to her chin. Then he ripped open the seal and pulled out the single piece of paper.
At first he didn’t make sense of the short message. When realization hit him in the gut, his first reaction was disbelief. Was someone f**king with him? He needed to get back to his men. This could be complete bullshit, but it was the first potential break KGI had caught in their mission to take Alex Mouton and his extensive arms network down.
For two weeks Sam and his brothers had posed as buyers, trying to make contact with Mouton. And nothing. Either the man was a suspicious bastard or he had no interest in gaining new clients. Which told Sam that his current clientele was paying him a f**kload of money.
A chill slithered up his spine. Why the anonymous warning? Who had known what the Kelly Group was really after? They’d been careful. They’d done everything right. Blended in with the locals. Given no one any reason to believe they were anything but who they said they were. Even Sam’s illicit liaisons with Sophie had gone a long way in building his cover. Because what kind of dumbass came on a covert op and then spent his time f**king a local waitress to distraction?