Page 38 of France Face-Off
Her brow wrinkled. “Hurry it up. I’m so hot, I can hardly stand it. I need more of what you have to offer.” She fondled his balls again. “This is where we started. Show me some more of that magic.”
He groaned, rolled back up onto his hands then leaned forward and kissed her lips. He slid his still thick and hard shaft into Alex’s depths and started all over, showing her just how much more incredible making love could be.
When they finally fell back to the mattress, he gathered her in his arms and fell asleep with her pressed up against him.
“You did it,” she whispered against his neck.
“Did what?” he said, his voice gravelly, his body saturated with desire.
“Showed me making love with you could be even more than mind-blowing.”
He chuckled and tightened his arms around her. “You’re what makes it so, Anya. I’ve never met someone quite like you.”
“Mmm. Ditto.” She pressed her cheek against his chest, her body relaxing against his.
Life didn’t get better than this. He loved what had just happened between them, and he wanted so much more.
Two days with Alex weren’t nearly enough. Somehow, he had to make their time together last longer than the two days of the summit.
He wasn’t ready for this, whatever it was, to end.
She trusted him to keep her safe.
He couldn’t let her down.
* * *
Alex lay for a long time, inhaling the scent of Striker, committing everything about him to memory. When the summit ended, she wouldn’t see the handsome SEAL again. They weren’t meant to be together. Alex didn’t believe there was anybody out there who was meant to be with her. She was a cold-blooded killer who’d taken matters into her own hands to find and punish those who’d taken the lives of her mother and father. Who could love that kind of person?
She pressed her ear to his chest, listened to the steady beat of his heart and imagined a world where she wasn’t running from Russians wanting to kill her. And there was still the matter of finding the person who’d sent the kill order for her family.
Alex sighed and snuggled closer, embracing the man and the moment that couldn’t last more than a night. Finally, she slept off and on, waking before the warm light of day.
While Striker continued to sleep, she slid out of the bed and into the bathroom for a shower before the start of another day of interpreting and praying whoever was after her didn’t make a move during the summit. She needed to find time to question Baranovsky about his connection with Pavel and Mischa Federov.
The summit had been an ideal opportunity to get Baranovsky and Petrov alone. In Russia, Alex didn’t know who to be wary of. Anyone on the streets of Moscow could recognize her as her mother’s daughter. In France, only the few Russians present had a chance of knowing who she might be.
Alex turned on the water, waited for it to warm and stepped beneath the spray. Water ran over her face and down her body, following the same path Striker’s mouth had blazed the night before. Her core heated at the memory.
Warm, strong hands slid around her waist and pulled her against a rock-solid body. The evidence of desire nudged her buttocks, sending ripples of electricity through her.
Alex leaned back and tipped her head to the side, allowing Striker to skim his lips across the back of her ear and neck. “I have to be downstairs soon.”
“I know,” he said and kissed the curve of her neck. “I couldn’t resist.”
She turned in his arms, cupped his cheeks in her palms and leaned up on her toes to brush his lips with hers.
He tightened his arms around her back and crushed her mouth, claiming her tongue in a sensual dance.
Her blood humming through her veins, Alex melted into Striker. She couldn’t get close enough. The heat of his body ignited a flame inside her, threatening to consume her.
Striker’s hand slipped between them and cupped her sex. One finger found its way into her, and then another, while his thumb strummed her clit.
She had a difficult time dragging air into her lungs.
Then he stopped and leaned back. Holding up a small packet, he cocked an eyebrow. “Yes or no?”
With her breath already labored, she managed to say, “Yes!” in a strangled whisper.
