Savage Hunger(44)

He reached in to check the temperature and glanced over at her with a nefarious grin. “Oh come on. You can’t possibly be shy after last night.”

Oh dammit, now he was ready to bring that up? Sienna tore her gaze from his body, especially from the very male part of him that seemed all too awake. She weighed the idea of skipping the shower, because getting in there with him—

“Nothing’s going to happen, Sienna,” he promised and stepped into the stall and under the water. “I’ll keep my hands and eyes to myself. There’s not time for anything but a quick shower anyway.”

With a soft curse, Sienna stripped off her T-shirt and stepped into the shower with him. The warm water sluiced over her body as she made the pathetic attempt to not allow any part of her to touch Warrick. But they barely fit into the stall and more often than not parts of her would brush against hard, manly parts, sending warmth through her body that had nothing to do with the water temperature.

Warrick seemed completely unbothered on the other hand, she thought irritably. She may as well have been a coatrack thrown into the shower with him, for all it affected him.

“You need to be straight with Quinton.”

Finally! The slight crack in his voice was the only indication he wasn’t nearly as unfazed by their showering together as he’d have her believe.

“Sienna.”

“I heard you.” She reached past him for the shampoo and made quick time lathering up. This needed to be a lightning-quick shower. For more reasons than one.

As for being straight with Quinton. Not freaking likely. She didn’t trust the guy. Anyone really. Well, maybe Warrick. But anything she told Warrick would probably just get repeated to Larson. Or back to the ominous Quinton.

Warrick reached past her for the shampoo she’d set down on the ledge, and his knuckles brushed the curve of her breast. A soft gasp ripped from her throat and her body went taut.

“Son of a bitch, this was a bad idea,” he muttered savagely and stepped as far away as the small stall would allow.

She barely bit back a snort of disbelief, and a pithy “I told you so”. Instead she finished conditioning her hair and soaping her body. Then she was out of the shower and bundling into a towel before he could catch a glimpse of her hardened nipples and flushed cheeks.

Sienna had just pulled on a T-shirt and pair of shorts when the door to the room swung open. Sweet Jesus, Quinton had been dead serious about pulling her out.

His gaze narrowed on her. “Fifteen minutes is up. Go sit your butt down in the kitchen and I’ll be out there in a few minutes.”

Placing a hand on her hip, Sienna arched a brow. “A few minutes? With those extra few minutes I could’ve blown dry my hair.”

The older agent was silent for a moment, his gaze so cold a slither of fear rippled down Sienna’s spine. Okay, so maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut on that last one.

But then Quinton let out a soft laugh laced with genuine amusement. “Sorry to disappoint you.” His gaze slid beyond her to where Warrick had come out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. “Tell you what. With those extra three minutes why don’t you make good on your boyfriend here’s comment about breakfast. I haven’t eaten. Go whip me something up.”

Whip him up something? Hot fury built in her belly and Sienna’s eyes flashed her loathing at him. Then she remembered Warrick’s warning about how important this man was. And knowing she was only doing this for Warrick and his career, she bit her tongue before she could give him a verbal lashing to bring his ego down a peg, then stormed out of the bedroom.





Chapter Ten

“I’m surprised,” Quinton said softly after Sienna left, “that you’d let a little human pussy mess with your head this much, Agent Donovan.”

Goddamn the man. Warrick’s hands flexed and the beast in him roared with anger, itching to come out and fight. But starting one with Quinton would be equivalent to career suicide.

He took a deep breath and murmured, “With all due respect, sir, Sienna Peters is nothing but a family friend.”

“Sure. And I spoon with all my friends in the morning too, son.” Quinton nodded, his smile derisive. “You’re a better agent than this, Donovan. You’re heading toward the top. You don’t want to fuck it up now.”

Like your father did. The words hung unsaid between them in the air.

Everyone knew about Warrick’s father. That he’d been a damn good P.I.A. agent, his career on the fast track to greatness. Until he’d started hitting the bottle a little too hard after a botched mission. Got sloppy, and fucked a human reporter, spilling all his secrets one night while drunk off his ass.