Page 120 of Red Marked

“Deal.”

36

Flint

We drive back to the hotel in silence. The entire vehicle smells like hot wings. My mouth waters, but not for the food.

I park underground, and we walk fast to the elevators. I press the button three or four times in quick succession until the doors finally slide open. I touch her lower back as we walk inside.

We stand on separate sides of the elevator, looking at each other.

I’m not second-guessing this decision.

I refuse.

This is the best way forward. We fuck a few times and get whatever this is concluded so that we can move on. Then Magma’s guy comes through with that ID, and we head back to the facility, and that’s the end of it. We go back to being appropriate. To being boss and recruit. We keep working the case with clear heads.

Fucking perfect.

There’s a ding when we reach our floor, and we walk out and down the hallway. I pull out the key card as we get to our door.

It takes me two swipes to realize I have it the wrong way around and turn it, finally seeing green.

Thank fuck!

The door swings shut behind us as Star puts the bag with our food on the desk, and I grip her hips.

Her back hits the wall, and my mouth is on hers, and she’s already opening for me, already making that sound in her throat that I’ve been hearing in my head since the car. Her hands go into my hair. Mine slide to her waist. There’s a strip of bare skin between her top and her jeans, and it’s warm and smooth, and it’s mine now. All of it. I slide my palms up under the sequins, and the whole thing is up and over her head.

Her perfect tits are bare. I’m allowed to look at them…to touch them.

Fuck yeah!

I lean down to suckle on her nipples.

“Flint.” She’s laughing. “That tickles.”

“That isn’t what I was aiming for.”

“Take your shirt off,” she tells me. “I want to see you…all of you.”

I reach back and haul it over my head one-handed. Then I’m on my knees on the thin hotel carpet, working the buckle on her sandals while she braces a hand on my shoulder and steps out of them. I stand, and then she’s pushing at me, and I sit on the edge of the bed with her hands at the laces of my boots.

“You’re grossly overdressed. Why did you wear these?”

“Because I was going out for wings, not for⁠—”

She pulls the first boot free and throws it. It hits the closet door. The second one goes the same way. I stand and get my belt open, and she has the button of her jeans undone and the zipper down before I can offer to help. She wriggles them down over her hips and steps out of them. She kicks them away.

She’s in a pair of black lace panties.

The lace panties.

Nothing else.

Holy fuck!

She’s so damned beautiful. I stand there and gape for a few seconds.