Page 65 of Covert Operation
The glassed-in space is stocked with a few scented shower gels. I sniff a couple, deciding on one before scrubbing down at record pace. Once I’m clean, I jump out and use the other towel on the bar to dry myself off. My heart is racing as I untwist the band holding my hair up and shake the lingering curls loose around my shoulders.
The pajamas Lydia gave me are still where I dropped them, and I step over the pile on my way out the door. Zeke is now dressed in a pair of pajama pants and propped against the headboard, his phone pressed to his ear as he speaks in a quiet voice to whoever’s on the other end of the line. His eyes come my way and stop, slowly dragging down my body and the towel wrapped around it.
I take a shaky breath, then let the fluffy terry cloth drop.
Zeke goes still, his big body frozen in place as goosebumps prick my skin and pull my nipples tight. I’m not cold. I’m actually hot. Flushed in anticipation and want.
Deep down I thought I might never feel this way again. Might never want to be touched. Pleasured. Held. And for a long time I didn’t.
But then Zeke showed me how safe I could feel. How powerful I could still be.
“I’m going to have to call you back.” He doesn’t wait for the other person to respond, just disconnects the call and carelessly shoves the phone in the general direction of the nightstand.
The seconds tick by as his gaze rakes over me, slowly tracking every inch of my body from head to toe. His eyes finally come to mine. “Come here.”
My legs might as well be jelly as my bare feet pad across the smooth wood floor onto the plush rug positioned under the king-size bed. With every step, the tension in my belly curls tighter. Anticipation settles lower, heating the parts of me desperate for Zeke’s attention.
My body is humming when I reach his side, and I barely stop myself from climbing right on top of him?—
But should I stop myself from that?
Without giving myself time to second guess, I press one knee into the mattress and swing the other over and across, letting it meet the blankets on the other side of his hips. Resting my hands on his chest for balance, I lower myself until I’m sitting, the hard length of him pressing against the steady pulse of my clit.
Zeke’s hands come to my legs, warm and a little rough as they stroke over my skin. His hands wrap around each thigh, and a finger brushes over the puckered scar marring the back of one. The flare of his nostrils and the set of his jaw make him look angry.
Because he is. He’s angry for me. For what happened to me.
And likely angry he wasn’t there to protect me from all of it.
I trace the flat line of his mouth as the warmth I always feel when I’m with him blooms, igniting a heat that spreads throughout my limbs, stoking the flames of lust and desire and need. While I might have pretended they weren’t there when I was a younger woman, out of shyness and sometimes shame, now I’m so darn happy they still exist that all I want is to indulge them.
To prove they belong to me again.
“I want you to touch me.” I know Zeke well enough to understand everything that happens between us is up to me. I also know he won’t do anything without me making it very clear I’m more than okay with it. “Please.” I rest my hands over his, guiding them up my body until they curve over my breasts.
But the second I let them go, they move away, coming to curve against my face. I start to protest, but Zeke pulls me in, bringing my mouth to his, making me sigh instead. I love the way he tastes. The glide of his tongue against mine. The gentle nip of his teeth as he works his way along my jaw.
I lean closer, the pressure of him between my thighs not nearly enough as the hair on his chest teases against my nipples. I grind against him, chasing the sort of contact I want. The kind he gave me last night.
Zeke chuckles against my skin. “Relax, Sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to relax.” I growl a little as his hands slide down my back. “I want to feel good.” I almost leave it there, but decide to be even more specific. “I want you to make me feel good.”
Zeke’s mouth is hot on my neck as his hands palm my ass, fingers digging into my bare skin. “You should have said that to start with.”
I gasp when we suddenly roll, his big body bracing over mine. For a second, I think I’m going to finally have what I’m after. But then Zeke shifts, making his plan clear.
And it’s very different from mine. But also much better.
My back arches off the mattress when his lips close around a nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth as one big hand clamps onto my leg, lifting it up and out, spreading me wide as he continues his downward trajectory.
The sound I make when his tongue flicks my clit has never come through my lips before, but I have a feeling it will be playing on repeat. Because when Zeke hooks both arms around my spread thighs and pulls me closer, I lose all control of my vocal cords.
Along with the rest of my body.
One hand flies to his hair, gripping tight as the other fists in the blankets, looking for purchase as Zeke circles the tiny bundle of nerves currently ruling my world. “Don’t stop.” I rock against his face, desperate for anything he’s willing to offer. “That feels so good.”
My vision narrows when one long, thick finger presses into my body, curling just enough to reach that magical spot inside, the movement coordinated with the pinpoint accuracy of his tongue.In what feels like seconds, I’m coming, his name a chant as the room spins out and I lose all focus besides the pleasure he’s bringing.