Dangerous Assignment (Aegis Group Book 4) (4 page)

Luke swallowed.

That was a dangerous kind of look.

Abigail took a step toward him, and then another, until nothing but a few inches of air separated them. She lifted a hand, touching his cheek. She wasn’t that tall, but the way she stared at him might as well have cut him off at the knees.

He bent his head.

She lifted up.

4.

Abigail slid her hand
around the back of Luke’s head. The short, wiry hairs tickled her palm. His mouth moved against hers, his tongue licking the seam of her lips. She inhaled his scent. It’d been driving her crazy since the plane. He thrust into her mouth, stroking her in a way that she felt in her nipples and lower.

Long-dead parts of her woke up. Life and—dare she name it—excitement filled her. She’d been so focused for so long, cutting off her more human needs until she was all but robotic.

Until he’d made her remember what it was like to be alive again. That what she did—was doing—made a difference to others. But this? Here, in this moment with his hand on her ass and the other in her hair—this was for her.

She groaned and leaned into the kiss, lifting up just a little bit more. She wanted all of him. Right now. For herself. Not for a mission or because that was what she was told needed to be done to complete an objective—but for herself.

Luke didn’t know who she was—what she was. And it didn’t matter. Because they were two people exploring a spark. A bit of attraction. Selfishly, she wanted everything he could give her. To feel this rush of life.

He pressed his palm to the curve of her bottom, grinding their pelvises together. His erection pressed against her, a promise of what could be hers. If only for a night.

She grasped the front of his shirt and pulled in a vain attempt to get closer. The pearlescent buttons popped off, pinging off the floor and coffee table.

Abigail rocked back to her heels, staring at the wrecked expanse of white fabric in her hand.

“Oops…”

She should be sorry, but she wasn’t. Not really.

He wasn’t wearing an undershirt. For some reason, that fact mattered. Beside the point that she got an excellent glimpse of finely-toned pectoral muscles—it was significant in another manner.

As if, despite the sophisticated veneer, under it all, he was just like her.

“It’s just a shirt.” He bent his head and took her mouth, his hand still anchored in her hair.

His other hand slid around her waist, while his tongue continued to fuck her mouth.

They needed to vacate the living room.

Now.

Because this was happening.

Tomorrow, she’d worry about completing her objective and ending this circus. But for tonight, she wanted to be a woman with a man.

She held onto the shirt and pulled, walking backward toward her tiny room.

Luke followed, their mouths never parting while their bodies danced across the suite. Her shoulder hit the doorjamb and she fumbled with the handle.

A sharp knock broke through the fog of lust.

That was important. Why was it important?

Right.

Dinner.

She tore her mouth from his and for a second they stared at each other. She was close to burning up inside.

“I’ll get the door,” he said.

“You can’t.” She glanced down at his shirt and the erection tenting his trousers. “I’ll get the door. You get in my room.”

“I like the way you think.” He slid his hand out of her hair and cupped her cheek.

She couldn’t form words.

He buzzed her lips with a quick kiss, and left her, whisking past her into her room.

Her room.

Shit.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t.

She was
feeling
, and that was the problem. Hearts lied.

Abigail smoothed her hair and crossed to the door. She inhaled one, deep breath before whisking it open on the dinner cart and attendant.

“I’ll take it from here, thank you,” she said in Arabic before she caught herself.

The attendant didn’t seem to notice her slip, but she did.

Abigail was an American.

Abigail did not know Arabic.

Yael did.

Double shit.

She needed to scratch this itch, get it out of her system, so she could focus.

Abigail shut the door and wheeled the cart to the middle of the room. She stashed her and Luke’s dinners on the coffee table and proceeded to deliver the remainder to the anteroom of the master suite. Judging from the sounds coming from the master, no one would be eating anytime soon.

She crossed to her bedroom, saying a silent prayer that Luke wasn’t the nosey type.

The door wasn’t fully closed. She pushed it with her fingers, holding her breath against what she might find.

Luke reached for her, wrapping his hand around her wrist. Her heart rose into her throat. He yanked her forward against his chest and closed the door with a slight bang. Her back hit the wall a second later and his lips were on hers.

His shirt and jacket were gone, but the pants were, sadly, still on.

She’d have to fix that.

Abigail grasped the front of his trousers.

Luke wrapped his hands around her other wrist, pulling it from his waistband and flattened them to the wall.

His kiss slowed to a gentle, teasing stroke. She nipped his lower lip, but he merely chuckled.

She didn’t need soft or slow.

She wanted adrenaline, lust, and sweat.

Abigail tested his hold. She could break it. The maneuver wasn’t about strength, and he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

“What? I can hear you thinking,” Luke whispered against her cheek. He kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw.

She glanced at his dark hand wrapped around her arm.

“You have control issues.” His lips brushed over her ear. “You’re thinking, “I could put him on his ass if I wanted,” aren’t you?”

His teeth closed over the soft part of her earlobe and sucked.

Her knees went weak.

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Go ahead. Do it.” He put a little more force behind his hold.

It didn’t matter. She could still turn the tables—but was that what she wanted?

“If you stay right here, like this, I’ll make it worth it.”

She shivered. Was that moan—her?

It was. That was her.

His hot breath fanned her cheek, down her neck. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her jaw and then her shoulder.

She needed the wall to remain upright.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night. Doing this.” He let go of one wrist and slid his hand between her and the wall.

She arched her back and turned her face, seeking his mouth.

His lips were gentle, teasing.

He tugged the zipper down, all the way to the top of her ass.

She wanted to brush the straps off…but that would mean moving her hands.

Luke laced their fingers together, palm to palm, and kissed her once more. His thigh pressed between hers and she shifted, wanting more. Now.

She was greedy where he was patient. It did not make for a good combination.

He guided her hands down to her sides, the implied command telegraphed loud and clear.

Luke stepped back, hooking his fingers into the straps over each shoulder. He guided both down her shoulders, dipping his head to kiss each inch of exposed flesh, down her collar bone, between her aching breasts. His hands clenched her waist, gripping the fabric. Her hands slid from the straps and she flattened them against the wall. He sank to one knee, then the other. His lips tickled her belly.

His lips stopped at the edge of her panties while he guided the rest of her dress to the floor.

She’d met a lot of men in her line of work; powerful, dangerous ones, but none like Luke. He was different, and she recognized his core.

And here she was thinking again.

This wasn’t about anything except scratching an itch.

Feeling alive.

“Hot damn.” He slid his hands over her abdomen and hooked his fingers into her panties.

She swallowed. He tugged the simple black underwear down her legs.

“I’m going to eat you up,” Luke said.

“Is that a threat? Or a promise?”

“Depends, do you scream?”

“Never.”

“That sounds like a challenge then.” His lips spread into a wide smile.

There was something playful about him. She wasn’t used to that. But something inside of her, something forgotten, woke up and took hold.

“Bring it on,” she said.

Luke leaned forward, kissed her hip, and followed the slight tan line. His fingers brushed through the curls covering her mound. He opened his eyes, his lips still on her, and met her gaze.

He grasped her right knee and pushed it up over his shoulder. Her hips canted forward. Her stomach was all knotted up. She was completely open to him.

His touch was certain, bold. This was no fumbling search. No, Luke knew exactly what he was doing to her. His fingers parted her folds, sliding back and forth.

Her eyes closed and she groaned, moving with him. He was watching her, she could feel it—and she didn’t care. Let him see how much he turned her on, what he was doing to her. There was nothing to gain or lose by being with him. This was for her.

His thick fingers probed her entrance. One digit swirled around, teasing her nerve endings. She groaned and worked her hips, searching for the right touch.

Luke’s lips were hot against her thigh. He kissed up higher between her legs. He thrust his fingers inside of her, the sudden intrusion startling a gasp out of her. His tongue licked her clit in one, long, slow motion.

“Oh—oh…”

“Too much?” he asked.

“No.”

He added another finger, working them deep while his tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves. She dropped a hand to his head, needing something to hold on to. Thank goodness she’d worn flats instead of heels or she’d have toppled over.

“You like that?” His voice rumbled against her.

“Yes—oh, right there.”

“You feel like riding my face, go ahead.”

She meant to say
yes
, but it came out as another moan instead.

His lips wrapped around her clit and he pumped her. She cupped the back of his head and undulated against him. Some small part of her was shocked, but his fingers and mouth felt too good to be wrong.

She curled one hand over her breast, slipping it into the cup of her bra and grasped her stiff nipple, twisting it between her fingers. Her thigh curled around his shoulders and her back slid lower, giving her more freedom to move, to be fucked, to fuck.

His fingers curled inside of her, stroking her inner walls.

Her jaw dropped, and her breath stuttered out of her lungs.

His teeth grazed her clit, just a barely-there touch with a bit of tongue.

The muscles in her abdomen fluttered, and her channel clenched around him, pulsating while a pleasure so sharp and sudden washed over her. He stroked and licked her through the orgasm, never breaking his stride until the last tremors shook her.

He pressed a kiss to her mound, applying the slightest pressure to her clit. The tremors shook her knees, threatening to send her to the floor. His deep chuckle was the only sound in the room.

“You almost screamed.” He sounded so pleased with himself she kind of wished she had.

“You can do better.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Luke’s laugh unwound the last bits of stress. His fingers slipped from her channel.

She looked down at him kissing her stomach and knew she wasn’t done yet. Not until she had his cock inside of her.

His gaze snagged on hers, holding it. He eased her foot to the ground and stood, both hands braced on the wall.

She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down. His lips tasted of her, of freedom. He hooked his arm around her waist and picked her up so her toes brushed the ground, and turned toward the bed. His other hand fumbled with the catch on her bra. To his credit, he got it in under five tries.

Luke laid her on the bed and tossed the bra aside.

She stretched and smiled, reveling in the moment. Here and now, she was just a woman wanting a man. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“God damn, you’re gorgeous.” He stood next to the bed staring down at her.

Abigail didn’t care if it was a line or the truth. She stretched, reaching for his belt. He chuckled again and pushed her hands aside, making quick work of both belt, trousers, shoes and socks. His wallet landed somewhere on the bed with a heavy thud.

Luke stepped back, his gaze still on her, but this time she got to look, too.

He was every bit as toned and muscled as she’d expected him to be. The scars, while not a surprise, made him seem more human. Real.

That cock, though? It was a work of art. Dark skin stretched over veins, the head glistening already with precome.

They were going to have fun tonight.