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The gig is up when he calls me that, and I laugh, letting the gun lower to my side. “Dang it, Shane! I was doing so well! And you ruined it with your sweet dirty talk.”
Shane takes the empty training gun from my hands, setting it on the dresser behind him and grabs around my waist to pull me to him. “Allie even laughed at my training pistol today. She sent a pic to Dominick, who said he thought mine would be pink, not bright orange.”
Shane smiles. “How was your shopping?” But before I can answer, he shakes his head, “Never mind, tell me later. But really, you did just fine clearing the rooms and even handling me. But fuck if you don’t turn me on when you get all fierce and badass like that. Makes me want to earn your sweetness back, taste the innocence you only share with me.”
As he talks, he’s kneading my ass, his nose nudging along my belly and down to my core. More brave than shy these days, I begin unbuttoning my blouse, tossing it to the floor.
Shane sits back on his heels, watching me. “More,” he demands.
Having learned a few tricks from Allie, I don’t obey instantly. Instead, I tease him, tracing a finger along the swells of my breasts, which are almost eye-level with Shane. He growls, licking along the edge of my bra, and I decide maybe teasing can wait. I reach behind to unclasp my bra and shrug it off.
Shane cups my breasts, pressing them together and burying his face in their fullness, groaning as he begins licking my skin, sucking here and there to leave the marks he always wants to see on my body.
Finally, he takes my nipple into his mouth, and my hands tug on his hair, holding him there, wanting more. His fingers work at the waist of my pants, undoing them before he helps them slide down my legs.
I step out of my shoes and then the pants, standing before Shane in just my cotton panties. I asked him once if he wanted me to wear sexier lingerie, but he assured me with his words, his hands, and his cock that he liked my simple bikini briefs. He said they look sweet, like me.
Seems his opinion hasn’t changed because he’s using his thumbs to trace my lips through the soaked cotton, desire darkening his eyes.
“Lie down on the bed,” he rasps. “On your stomach.”
Like I need a reason to do as he says, feeling Shane’s weight on the bed as he straddles me, his strong thighs supporting him so he doesn’t squish me.
“Hold the headboard, Angel.”
I look back at him over my shoulder, but his face is unreadable. I move my hands up, holding one of the slats in the headboard.
Shane leans forward, and before I realize what he’s doing, he’s handcuffed my hands around the slat.
He sits back, pleased with himself. “Good girl.”
I laugh, half turning even as my body thrills. We’ve talked about this, but this is the first time we’ve taken the game this far. I love it. “Shane? What are you doing?”
I can feel his rough hands tracing my skin, and once in a while, he bends over to lay a sucking kiss or nibble to a spot that entices him. “Celebrating. The first night I came here, I drove you home after that asshole scared you at the club. Your keyring had a fluffy white pompom on it.”
I smile, loving that he remembers details like that about me. “I still have it. And?”
“And as of today, you’re officially field cleared,” Shane says. “Maria texted me the news.”
I’ve been working hard these last few months, both with Shane and at Maria’s insistence. I’ve learned so much, including FBI procedures, hand-to-hand fighting, firearms, and more. And while I’ve been able to sit next to Chucky as he pores over his computers, learning the in-house intel side, I hate that Shane is out there, undercover without me.
After his last mission, we decided he was going to wait for me so we could do the next assignment together. He took some well-deserved vacation and requested that Maria let him oversee my training, to which she agreed.
Maria’s actually excited to have a team available for undercover work as a couple. Apparently, that’s rare and makes us uniquely fit for a few different intel-seeking positions. I squeal in excitement at the news, kicking my feet behind Shane, but not dislodging him. “What’s that got to do with handcuffing me to the bed?” I ask.
“Look at the handcuffs,” Shane whispers, licking my earlobe and making me shiver. I look up to see white, fluffy handcuffs encircling my wrists and laugh. “They’re a bit of the old you, soft and innocent, and a bit of the new you, badass. And best of all, they make you all mine.”
