The three men pulled, and then nothing.Not even the slightest movement.
Twister let go first, breathing hard, he looked back at me.
“It’s sealed.”
I nodded slowly.“Not for years.”My fingers traced the rust creeping around the steel.“For decades.”
Nobody said another word.Because after weeks of searching, we hadn’t just proven the tunnel existed, we’d found its front door.
The only problem was whoever had hidden it had made damn sure nobody was getting inside.
Chapter Twenty
Wheels
The bathroom was already thick with steam when I stepped inside.The mirror was fogged over, and the air was heavy and warm.Goldie had started the shower before I even made it upstairs, and I could hear the water running behind the curtain.I could also see the vague shape of her moving behind the frosted plastic.
I stripped out of my clothes, leaving them in a careless pile on the floor, and pulled the curtain back.
She was standing under the spray, her head tilted back, eyes closed, water streaming down her face, her throat, tracing paths over her breasts and stomach and thighs.She didn’t open her eyes when I stepped in, but her mouth curved, knowing.
“Took you long enough,” she said, her voice carrying that lazy, satisfied quality that meant she’d been waiting for me.
“Had to make sure we were actually alone.”I stepped under the water with her, the heat of it hitting my chest and shoulders, running down my back in near-scalding ribbons.“The guys know better than to come looking for us, but I still checked the locks.”
She laughed, her eyes opening finally, dark and warm with amusement.“So romantic.”
“I’m a romantic guy.”
“You are,” she said, and the simple agreement, delivered without irony, hit me somewhere unexpected.She reached for me, her palms sliding up my chest, her thumbs tracing my collarbones, my throat, learning me again even though she’d already memorized every part of me.“You’re just not obvious about it.”
I caught her wrists, turned her hands over, and pressed kisses to her palms.“I brought you coffee in bed this morning.”
“That was romantic.”She stepped closer, close enough that the water hit both of us now, streaming between our bodies, creating a barrier of heat and pressure that somehow made her feel even closer.“This is romantic.”
She kissed me, slow and thorough, her tongue sliding against mine, her body pressing flush against me from chest to thigh.I groaned into her mouth, my hands found her hips, pulling her harder against me, feeling her softness yield to my hardness.
We kissed like that for a long time.Unhurried, with the water pounding down around us, and the steam thickening until I could barely see the edges of the shower.Her hands moved over me, restless and seeking, tracing my shoulders, back, and ass, pulling me closer still.My own hands weren’t still either, learning the curve of her waist, the weight of her breasts, and the sensitive hollow of her throat where her pulse beat frantic and fast.
“Wheels,” she breathed against my mouth, and I loved how desperate she already sounded when we’d barely begun.
“Right here,” I murmured back, kissing my way down her jaw, her throat, closing my mouth over the place where her neck met her shoulder, and sucking gently, feeling her shudder against me.“I’ve got you.”
“I know.”She said it like a confession, like a promise as her fingers tangled in my wet hair and held me there, offering more of her throat, more of her skin.“I know you do.”
I turned her around, gentle but firm, my hands guiding her until she was facing the tile.Her palms flattened against the cool surface.She went willingly, almost eagerly, and her breath caught as I pressed against her back.My mouth found her shoulder and spine, kissing my way down the water-slicked line of her.
“You good?”I asked, my voice rough, my hands steadying her hips.
“Better than good.”She looked back at me over her shoulder, her hair dark with water, her eyes heavy-lidded and wanting.“Don’t make me wait.”
I didn’t.I guided myself into her, slow at first, feeling her stretch around me, hot and tight.She gasped, her head dropping forward as her fingers pressed hard against the tile, and I gave her a moment to adjust.
“Move,” she begged, her voice breaking.“Please, Wheels, I need you to move.”
I pulled back and drove into her; the sound lost beneath the shower’s roar.The sensation was overwhelming, and her body was gripping mine like she never wanted to let go.I found a rhythm, steady and deep, my hands firm on her hips, and held her exactly where I needed her.
The water cascaded over us, making every touch electric, and every slide of skin against skin heightened by the heat and the wet.I watched it run down her back, pool in the hollow of her spine, and trace the curve of her ass where I held her.I watched myself disappear into her, the sight nearly undoing me.I had to close my eyes to focus on the feel of her and the sounds she was making.The way she pushed back to meet every thrust was about to send me over the brink.
