Page 36 of Beachcomber Danger

She handed it to him as he straightened from his bent posture. He didn’t drink it. Instead he poured it over his head.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

“Too hot from the run?”

“Too hot for you.” He went to the sink, refilled the glass and gulped it down.

“Maybe you ought to pour another one over your head then.” She took a kitchen towel and bent to wipe the water from the floor.

He came up behind her and lifted her dress so that when she stood, she ground her rear against him, hitting the hard, hot length of him exactly with the crack in her ass. She felt the singe of sensation through her thin panties and his pants.

“They’ll be back. We won’t know when. Sassy and—”

He took her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.

He had that look. He held her and she was weakening, literally. Her muscles were like spaghetti. He moved to kiss her. She pressed her hands against him and moved away.

“What about professional distance?”

“Nothing is going on tonight. We did our duty today.” He reached out and held her again.

“If they come back—”

“We’ll be in our room.” He nibbled on her earlobe and then pulled her with him down the hall to their bedroom. Their bedroom. She was still getting used to that. “They know we’re an engaged couple, since they seem to know everything about us already. So why do I feel like a teenager sneaking off?”

He pulled her into the room and shut the door.

“Damn, Shana. I don’t want them to do that to us. This is our home.”

“It’s not about Andrews and Goodley.” She couldn’t believe she was going to lecture him about their responsibility and the importance of not being distracted on the job. The dangers of not being focused on the mission.

He swiped a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. But then he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“You know we need to be on 24/7 for this assignment. You know we can’t get distracted—”

“I’m getting out of these wet clothes. Am I allowed to change?”

“Don’t blame it on me. These are your rules, as I recall.”

He pulled down his pants.

“They’re not my rules. They’re the rules of survival. In situations where there’s imminent danger, no distractions are allowed.” He kicked his pants off. His cock was still standing, big and pulsing. He’d worn no underwear.

She shook her head, but she didn’t stop staring at him, the full length of him, from his intense eyes, his strong jaw shadowed with a half day’s growth, his strong lean torso and bulging arms, to the invitation of his pulsing hard cock. She felt herself getting wet and weak.

*****

He was naked and she was dressed. In his mind, she was about to become naked.

“It’s not all about me being horny. It’s a strategic move.” He caressed her jaw. He knew she was a sucker for a soft touch accompanying some he-man words.

“They’ll be less suspicious if we act like honeymooners.”

“We’re not married. Stop pretending we are.”

Icy cold spikes sprung up, stabbing his chest at her words. He didn’t change his demeanor. He took a beat to calm the fear. It was probably fear making her say the words.

“Since when do you split hairs?” He came off sounding half joking when he felt the serious tension across his back as if the icy spikes impaled his heart and tore through him.