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They grappled for position, slipping and sliding over the soapy surface. Body moving over body. Breath against breath. Hungry mouths, taking and taking. Each of them going after the other’s hot spots.
Hell in a handbasket. The woman could make his eyes cross and his body beg.
Jericho finally managed to get Rachel on top of him, and he pushed inside her. The white-hot jolt of pleasure came. So much pleasure.
And it was just the beginning.
Because Rachel began to move, riding him hard. Taking him deep inside her and then thrusting her hips to repeat the right rhythm. The right moment.
With the right woman.
Correction: the only woman.
Rachel did what she knew all so well to do. She went faster. Harder. Deeper. All the while pinning him with her warrior eyes. Taking him to the only place Jericho wanted to go.
He felt the climax roll through her. Tightening those center muscles, causing them to clamp onto him. Jericho didn’t even try to hang on. Couldn’t. He just rode the wave and let Rachel finish him off.
Chapter Fourteen
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Normally, Rachel would have been savoring the buzz that she got from having sex with Jericho.
Definitely worth savoring.
He’d hit a perfect mark in giving her that “good climax” she’d requested. In fact, he’d far exceeded expectations, and her expectations had been plenty high since she knew what Jericho was capable of doing.
But their post-sex moments were cut short when Jericho had gotten a text only minutes after their romp in the bathtub. Spike had read out the message, and it’d prompted Jericho to hurry out of the tub and get dressed.
“Marco and Rayna will be here in a few minutes,” he explained.
“Rayna?” Rachel questioned as she got out of the tub as well and located her clothes.
“Rayna Brandon. She works for Maverick Ops. Like Slade, she’s former special forces and does some undercover work.” While he dragged on his pants, he met her gaze. “FYI, Marco is going to be pissed about having to work with Rayna, so expect more grumbling and surliness than usual.” He paused a moment. “Rayna and Marco have a history together.”
“Former lovers?” she asked.
“Yeah. Not sure what soured that relationship, but I’ve heard it had to do with them clashing over an assignment that Rayna took.”
It was hard for Rachel to wrap her mind around the scope of expertise and talent that Ruby had in her pool of employees. Expertise that obviously sometimes came with baggage. Rachel hoped that baggage wouldn’t interfere with whatever they were supposed to do to find a killer.
“Spike, open the garage door,” Jericho instructed when they saw Marco’s familiar truck on the screen next to the vanity.
She leaned in and took a closer look. “I don’t see anyone with Marco.”
“Oh, someone’s there, either on the floor or either covered up on the bed of the truck.”
So, someone—this Rayna—was being sneaked in. Rachel wondered if that meant someone was watching the place. Or maybe this was just a precaution. What she also didn’t know was why.
Jericho turned, no doubt heading to meet their guests, but he stopped. He hauled Rachel into his arms and gave her a scalding kiss. It was long, hard, and plenty deep. He finished it off with a grin and a wink before he went to the mud room door.
Still reeling more than a little from the kiss, Rachel followed him and reached the kitchen just as Marco was coming in. And then she saw the woman.
Rayna.
Except Rayna looked a lot like Rachel herself. Same build. Same hair color and length, though on a closer look, Rachel figured it was a wig. She was also wearing a Kevlar vest, as was Marco.
“Rayna Brandon,” she said, introducing herself. Rachel wasn’t sure how the woman had managed it, but she’d even been able to mimic Rachel’s voice.
