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“I want you,” she said.
I climbed onto the bed with her, crawling between her parted knees. “Then, you get me.” Our mouths met, and I couldn’t keep my hands off her for a moment longer. Her skin was soft, and we both groaned when I palmed her breast.
My mouth followed my hands, and I made my way down her body, mapping her curves, until she was trembling and pleading for me. Finally, I reached the very center of her and groaned to find her already wet for me.
“Oh, God!” Nataliya cried out when I buried my face against her, tasting her properly for the first time. “Adrian, please, don’t stop.”
Like I was going to. I took her over the edge with my fingers and tongue, relishing the way she chanted my name and how her thighs pressed tightly to the sides of my head, holding me in place until she reached her climax. When I eased back, her hazy, satisfied expression nearly drove me back to continue on with what I’d been doing.
As if she could read my mind, Nataliya shook her head. “You, now,” she all but demanded.
I reached over to the side of the bed, to where my jeans had fallen, and grabbed the condom that was in my wallet. Nataliya raised her eyebrow, and I shrugged, sheepish. “I wasn’t expecting anything,” I insisted. But I also sent a silent thanks to Owen, who had suggested I take a few before we left. I’d protested, but he’d just given me a look, and I’d stuck the condom in my wallet to shut him up.
I slipped the condom over myself, groaning slightly, before I slipped back between her thighs. She pulled me down for a kiss, and I pressed myself against where she was wet and waiting for me. I plunged my tongue into her mouth as I thrust inside of her, and Nataliya let out a muffled cry of pleasure as she wrapped her legs around my hips. Her hands were everywhere: gripping my shoulders, carding through my hair, cupping my face.
“You feel incredible,” I murmured as I moved within her. Pure pleasure lit up my spine, and I was getting close…but there was no way in hell I was going to finish before Nataliya. I pulled myself out of her arms and sat back so that she was splayed out for me. She moaned at the shift in angle and chased my movements with her own, building that sweet tension between us.
Her hips hitched against mine, and I groaned out loud when she reached between her thighs to touch herself. “That’s it, sweetheart,” I grunted. “Make yourself feel good.”
Nataliya’s breathing hitched, and I felt her inner muscles tighten around me as we worked together for her second orgasm. “Adrian,” she moaned. “Oh—!” I watched her face as she came for me again, and it sent me over the edge with a groan and a stuttering of my hips.
Panting, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her shoulder, her throat, her chin, and finally her lips. Nataliya smiled at me, eyes heavy on mine. “Share a shower with me?” I suggested, already thinking about what fun we could have beneath the water.
She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. We still had plenty of time before her phone call. “Okay,” she said. “A quick shower though.”
I held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Were you a Boy Scout?”
My laugh echoed around our room. “Not at all.”
FOURTEEN
NATALIYA
Inever felt more beautiful than I did under Adrian’s gaze, under his hands. We had been at the motel for over twenty-four hours, and we were both restless…but on some level, I was actually enjoying being stuck with him. If it wasn’t for the crippling fear that someone was going to break down our door at any moment, I would almost call it a vacation.
“This is the worst orange chicken I’ve ever had,” Adrian said, digging another sauce-covered piece of meat out of the white container.
He was right—it was pretty awful—but that was what made it good too. “The rangoons are pretty good though,” I pointed out.
Adrian smiled and conceded with a nod of his head. “I used to love those.”
“Used to?”
He chuckled. “We were in California for training, and the boys wanted takeout, so we found a cheap Chinese place nearby. We got six orders of the rangoons, and it gave us the worst food poisoning. I’ve been in firefights and never felt closer to death than I did that night. Ever since, they’ve lost their appeal.”
I glanced at the bag of wontons on the bed before giggling. “More for me then.”
Adrian nodded. “Keep them.”
“Elias and I usually fight over them,” I admitted. My heart panged at the thought of my son. I’d spoken with him the night before, after getting out of a very steamy shower, and he’d told me all about the things Sam had him doing to prepare for the start of his treatment. He was excited at the prospect of being “normal,” no matter how much she and I both cautioned him that it might not be what he expected. “He’s always been very vocal about what he likes, even as a baby.”
“I can see that,” Adrian said with a soft smile that made my stomach fizzle. The soft gaze was a killer: it made me think of all kinds of things that I shouldn’t. Like what might come next, after this mission.
Don’t think about that right now, I told myself. It doesn’t matter.
Instead of dwelling, I crunched on my wonton and said, “I remember the day that I knew he was going to be a handful—we were at my family’s home, I think Elias was all of three, and he told me that he was not going to sit with the other children because ‘They won’t admit that I have better ideas for games than them.’”
