She kicked off her boots and yanked her shirt over her head.
"Here, let me help you with that," he said, unclasping her bra with a flick of two fingers.
"You're very talented," she said.
"I'll admit I've had some practice."
"Thank God," she panted.
Deacon was already completely naked by the time she got her clothes off, nudging her from behind. His hands came around her, cupping her breasts, and she pressed back against him, feeling his erection hard in the crease between her buttocks.
"Turn on the water before I forget and take you right here," he growled against her neck.
"That's not really a threat," she said, grasping for the handle of the shower.
The spray came on full blast, and she turned it to hot, until steam filled the small bathroom. The shower was larger than the others, but not by much. He reached around her to slide open the glass door and then nudged her inside.
The hot water felt amazing against her chilled skin, but she realized very quickly heat wasn't going to be a problem. She felt wild and wicked, the adrenaline from the past few hours making her feel recklessly alive, and before he could take control again she put her hand flat on his abs and pushed him back against the wall. And then she knelt in front of him.
"Tess," he groaned.
Her hands curled into the thick muscles of his thighs, and she stared up at him, his heavy shaft right in front of her face. She'd never actually done this before. But she'd read about it. And she suddenly found herself ravenous for the taste of him.
Her tongue peeked out, tasting the salty liquid at the tip, and his cock jerked in response.
"Mmm," she moaned. There was power here. And she liked it.
Her mouth surrounded him, and she felt the tension in her jaw as she widened her mouth to adjust to his size. She explored and tasted, and then she swallowed him deep, going as far down as she could before she had to come back up for air.
She looked up at him out of half-closed lids. One of his hands gripped the top of the shower door and the other was flat on the wall. His head was thrown back and his breath heaving in and out of his chest.
"Tess," he managed again, his voice coming out mangled and broken.
She wrapped her hand around the base of him and stroked as she sucked. She curled her tongue around the flared head every time she pulled back, and it seemed to drive him crazy, so she did it over and over again.
"So good," he moaned.
He grew harder and seemed to swell in her mouth, and she felt the tug of his hands in her hair as he pulled her back. She moaned in protest, but he lifted her to her feet.
"I need to be inside you when I come," he said, taking her mouth in a blistering kiss and pressing her against the wall.
She felt his hand slide between her thighs, his fingers stroking and probing as he made sure she was ready for him.
"So wet," he murmured against her neck. "So hot."
His hands clenched into her buttocks and he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and her breath caught as she felt the bulbous head of his cock probing against her. There was no condom this time, and the knowledge passed between them as he looked deep into her eyes.
"I'm on the pill," she told him, her nails digging half-moons into his shoulders as he pushed in a little more. He was stretching her completely. And the feel of him, without the layer of latex between them, made her wild with need.
"I'm going to fill you," he whispered. "Every inch of you."
And then he slid the rest of the way inside of her and her breath caught on a scream. Her head fell back and stars exploded behind her closed eyelids. Her body convulsed out of her control. The orgasm pulsed deep in her womb and spread through her entire body. It was an out-of-body experience and all she could do was hold on.
She vaguely heard his shout and felt the pulsing release of him as he filled her completely, just like he had promised. And then she dropped her head on his shoulder and let the darkness take her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Three weeks later, The Gravediggers were back in Last Stop and Sergey Egorov and Ivan Levkin were nowhere to be found. The coded messages had stopped, and there was no trace of the false identities they'd taken. The only other useful information Dante had been able to extract from the code was the month of September and several references to the Day of Destiny.
It would be in September. He could feel it in his gut. And their time was running out.
Colin was still in the hospital, but he was alive. An emergency team had been waiting for them when they'd returned to Alaska, and he'd been loaded up and flown off without a word. Eve had relayed in a briefing a week later that he could no longer fulfill the role of an active agent, and that he'd be reassigned to fulfill his contract. Deacon had no idea if he'd ever see Colin again or what Eve's plans were for him. That was the problem with Eve. No one knew. And her word was law.