Inked [From the CIA 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 5

  Gingerly testing the temperature of the running water, she discovered a lukewarm spray of delinquent pressure. It would have to do.

  Mary stepped over the drain and held the showerhead to her chest. Regardless of the inadequacy, it felt better than anything else that had touched her today. Well, not quite. Cal’s bare hand on her lower back had radiated heat through her body.

  Tipping her head back as she let the water drain down her chest, she smirked at the rusty metal box attached to the wall near the ceiling. Probably up high to keep water from getting at the condoms for purchase.

  Glad that her body and mind needed rest, she assumed her intimate thoughts would abandon her for the rest of the night.

  * * * *

  The bed sunk low as he sat on the edge. Cal decided minimal movement would be the best way to get sleep amongst the bumps and curves of the restrained springs. Pulling his shirt overhead, he prepared for his turn in the shower. He’d leave his pants on, not because he felt any modesty, but rather because Mary had returned to calling him “Agent Guevin.”

  Leaning forward, he dug his elbows into taut thighs. He sunk his chin into his hands as he contemplated their next move. Almost out of money, no phone to access the American embassy, and no viable weapon as he had ditched the machine gun. It was too big to hide. Mary’s gun wasn’t anything better than a bludgeoning tool. Time to think out of the box.

  “There aren’t any towels.” Cal snapped his head up. “Find me something. Please.”

  A slender arm reached from the crack in the bathroom door. He turned his head and perused the tight quarters. The corners were dark where he heard the random scratching of bug-sized critters.

  He glanced back at Mary’s arm. She wiggled her fingers in anticipation. “I’m looking. There’s not much in here.” He went back to the bed and decided the only alternative was the sheet, so he yanked it from the mattress.

  As he handed the worn sheet to her moving fingers, her forearm left its resting spot on the edge of the door. It opened as if it were a velvet curtain pulled to the side of a masterpiece. So much happened in the next seconds and no one moved.

  Cal felt no shame in beginning with her face. He’s a man. He wants her. And whether she admits it or not, she had to want him at least half as much. He viewed her large, dark eyes that held a slight tilt up at the outer corner. Raw lips parted enough to let a breath in. Her breasts, fuller than he’d expected due to her normal attire, seemed to invite his touch. Lower yet, a firm waste curved in, then out again as her hips outlined a smooth belly.

  Difficult as it was to appear casual, Cal had to peer at her smooth thighs, which she tightened together to protect her sanctity.

  Then she screamed. The moment ended, the sheet miraculously obscured the picture he nearly drooled on. “You did this on purpose. Close your eyes, or something.”

  Cal had the “or something” on his mind and remained rooted merely two feet in front of the sheet that now barred his view. He coughed into his fist. “Sorry.”

  The room quieted except for a perpetual drip from the shower. “Really?” Mary’s eyes relaxed with a flutter of charcoal-black lashes. The sheet drooped, giving the slightest glimpse of an excited breast. He could see her nipples poke under the cotton material.

  Forget the code, the missiles, and the guns. Forget the imprisonment and the chase of Chenzira’s men. Cal couldn’t concentrate on anything but the flesh in front of him.

  “Maybe you should take a shower.”

  What? She couldn’t be offering herself if he only showered first. It’s not really how he imagined their first time together. Yet, he didn’t stop himself from switching spots with her.

  He backed into the bathroom, which alternated as the shower. If he looked away, she might disappear. Or at least the offer might. Mary had wrapped the sheet to cover her bottom as she walked to a scarred and dirty mirror on the wall. Her hair, stuck to her neck, allowed the tattoo to peek between the damp strands.

  A minute bit of reality snuck back into Cal’s thoughts. The mark remained real and so did their danger. He dropped his pants and shoved them outside the door. Using the leftover slab of soap, as the shower contained only one, he considered their safety.

  At the end of his cleansing, he scrubbed his face. Per habit, he looked up and shook the water from his short hair. The effort to think out their current dilemma vanished at the sight of the condom vending machine.

  Getting change from his pants would appear crass to a beautiful and educated woman. He didn’t want to chance it, so he pried his fingers into the rusty corner. The cover gave way with ease. Not fully stocked, but definitely enough for satisfaction. He palmed two, then a third just in case. He wouldn’t let Mary in on his stash until he affirmed her need was as potent as his own.

  “Can I borrow your sheet?” He cracked the door.

  She appeared in front of the bathroom, in full view. Oblivious to the space between them, he narrowed his eyes at her naked flesh.

  * * * *

  Goose bumps disappeared as Cal’s molten-eyed stare covered every inch of her skin. She was ready. At least she thought she was. Too damn late to change her mind now. She amazed herself that she could consider such a tawdry act in their situation. Maybe he would be disgusted at her for being human at a time when the hunt for them was surely expanding.

  She wouldn’t show emotion or a need other than physical. That’s as far as she’d allow him to get to her. The shield was necessary if he rebuked her need. Then she could at least laugh at his decision and save her pride.

  Before she knew it, he closed the space between them. His fingertip ran down her breast and stopped at her hardened nipple. Her eyes widened at the reality, drawn from her senses. She placed her hand over his and pressed it against her breast as if she demanded more.

  “What changed?” Cal’s deepened voice sent a ray of heat down her center.

  “Don’t talk to me. Just make me feel good. No, make me feel great, because I know you can.”

  His mouth closed while his eyes darted to parts of her that had never been revealed. He ducked his head to her throat, pulled back, then repeated and followed through, sinking his lips to the curve of her neck.

  Mary rolled her head to the side and offered her bare skin. Reaching her hands to his shoulders, she tried to move him against her. She wanted her skin to rub against his solid body, yet he held his stance.

  “Let me kiss you first. Everywhere.”

  She bit her tongue. Exactly what she wished for, but she wouldn’t give up the control. Only a few kisses. Like that one. The one she felt as he sucked her collarbone and breathed a trail to her breast. Her hand still grasped his and directed the kneading of his fingers as they pushed her tightened nipple between his lips. It felt so good. She wanted more, and more of the rest of his body.

  Enough. Mary yanked herself from his mouth as it remained opened in question. “Sit on the bed. Please.” Nice was fine, but at her instruction.

  Hands dropping to his sides, he paused, then did as requested. “Now what? What do you want, Mary?” He held out his stash of condoms. “This?”

  Instead of answering, she placed her hands on his shoulder and seductively swung a leg over his hip. Her hands dug into his muscles as she pulled her other leg up and lowered her body down, touching the head of his excitement. Without blinking she matched his stare, and then sunk lower. Her hips wiggled to adjust the perfect entry. The condoms slipped from his fingers to the mattress.

  He broke the trance between them as his eyes closed tight and his body jerked. Mary moistened her lips before sucking his into her mouth. At the same time, she moved her hips in a swirl that caused him to lift up and tighten their connection.

  Mary stopped the kiss to catch her breath. Worrying her lip, she refrained from uttering any satisfaction. He couldn’t know the feelings that surfaced. She had wanted him for so long, had never given him the opportunity, or herself for that matter. Why hadn’t she ever admitted that she want
ed his body and mind all for herself? Her own answer rested on the fact that she attracted danger, and that was her job and her life.

  Danger followed them everywhere. It wouldn’t be fair for Cal to always be her savior. And if he ever failed, better yet, if it wasn’t possible for him to rescue her from a terrorist, or a bomb, or an assassination, she would be dead and he might as well be the same. At least he would think so. Or what if it was her turn to be the savior?

  The grip of his arm wrapped around her waist pushed her down, bringing her back to the moment. She threw her head back and gritted her teeth at the sensation of his thrust. Speaking to the ceiling, she murmured, “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

  “What?” Still in her, he loosened his grip. “What I want? Is that why you’re doing this?”

  She rotated her hips, not wanting to lose the feel, mostly not to lose Cal. “No, no that’s not why. I want this, too.”

  He didn’t respond to the motion. His fingers dug into her hips again as he asked, “You want to what? To break up the monotony of the evening? To forget what’s going on around us? Tell me what you want.”

  Staring into his angered and molten eyes, Mary covered her breast with her arm. “I…I, uh, want you. I want you to love me tonight.” She felt a light rise inside her.

  “Is that it? Just tonight?”

  A tear streaked down the smooth skin of her cheek. She couldn’t tell him she wanted only tonight. It was true, yet untrue. Disregarding the question, she whispered through her swollen throat, “Just take me.”

  Not giving him a chance to say no, she tightened her thighs around his hips and leaned in to take his mouth in hers. Maybe he understood, or didn’t need to because he shifted her to his side. He made a cursory look to the floor for his stash of condoms, which had been dropped at some point. Locating the nearest on the mattress, he reached for it and manipulated the package until he was able to slip it over his pulsing sex. Then he descended over her. His shaft rubbed between her thighs as she sprawled out on the bed. He sunk deep.

  She widened her legs and let him reach further inside. Cal ran his lips over her breast and suckled the pert nipple until it hurt with pleasure. He licked her skin over her collarbone and up her neck.

  Methodically, he increased the pressure of each thrust till he reached her sweet spot. She muffled a scream, which came natural with the urgent need to feel more. Faster. Harder. She felt the stickiness of his stomach touch and release hers.

  Her back arched as she begged for more. The pace changed as if he read her mind. The space between them became minimal. He stayed low and only raised powerful hips to thrust slow and unbelievably far.

  “Cal, Cal.” She held back an additional scream as the climax rocketed through her entire body. She shut her eyes tight, almost wishing she hadn’t held back, yet she may have said something she couldn’t later explain.

  By this time, she doubted he’d hear her anymore. His body became rigid with a rumble from his chest and a low groan of ecstasy. His force lightened, yet he continued to push his hips back and forth.

  Deep inside, he stopped. A moment passed. She noticed a tremble begin in his arms, which stood as pillars next to either of her shoulders, until he lowered his body and rested on her chest. The feel of his chest intimately attached to her was something she didn’t want to end.

  Then he rolled to his side, caressing her belly. She kept her eyes trained to the ceiling. He still couldn’t know this affected her in any other way than the physical. She contemplated her next comment as her eyelids fluttered helplessly. Aware of an adjustment, she noted the return of new warmth as a thin blanket wrapped her body.

  Chapter 10

  Cal scooted underneath the blanket and came close to Mary. He lay back, placed his hands under the back of his neck and allowed his hip to gently nudge hers.

  He should have felt elated at this change in her demeanor, yet something still seemed amiss. She went through all the actions, and damn she was good at it. He wasn’t sure if she let a few reams of emotion slip through her icy exterior, or whether he imagined it because he needed her to want him. Her seductive moves, appearance, and careful choice of words during the past operations gave her more humanity than he felt now with her clothes off.

  He cursed himself for giving in to her. This is not the way he wanted to have her after waiting so long. They hadn’t made love. In his heart he knew only a physical bond had briefly been created.

  Leaning toward her, he saw her eyes had closed and gave no indication of opening soon. Intense lovemaking typically made him need a nap too, but he had no intentions of taking a break. Quit thinking about her and what had just happened. They needed a plan and the earlier they vacated the room, the better.

  He reluctantly tapped into his work mode. He’d get a cab to take them to the embassy. He probably had enough change left. Simple. Too simple.

  He hadn’t slept since…probably a day and a half. If his mind calmed down, a few hours would help. Like that was going to happen. Deciding to make use of the quiet time, Cal created a mental list of where they stood in the operation at the Hidden House other than being hunted as traitors to the terrorists.

  Where did the op go wrong? He and Mary had arrived at the event at the Hidden House in the same manner as the other invites. Another agent had driven them to the entrance. Cal doubted any malicious involvement of the driver because the driver didn’t make or change any part of the plan.

  Upon arrival, Chenzira and his guerrillas gave no indication that they didn’t trust them. Chenzira took a liking to Mary, something they had hoped for, yet it wasn’t planned to have her allowed into his harem. Chenzira’s trust ended there. When he and Mary were kept overnight, everything went haywire. Chenzira’s men marked Mary and the sleeping facilities weren’t a five-star part of the compound.

  Chenzira never gave up the coordinates for the nuclear missile or any hint at his supplier. It didn’t matter that Cal and Mary hadn’t handed over the fake formula because Chenzira didn’t trust them anymore and the formula would’ve been more proof to not trust the Americans.

  The other agents, Baier, Ranier, and Hoffer, aided the quest to get inside and then back out of the Hidden House. But were the agents on the up-and-up? Baier and Hoffer released them from their confines. What was Ranier doing? Were Baier and Hoffer working for the US, or were one or both untrustworthy?

  A leak sprung somewhere in the operation.

  Cal stealthily slid from under the cover, grabbed his briefs, slipped them on, and paced the room. The shoddy clock on the wall claimed two in the morning. He’d give Mary another hour before they searched for a ride to the embassy. Something nagged at him about the simplicity of this plan.

  He glanced toward the street through a slit in the curtains. Drab and colorless, they hung motionless, even though the windows were cracked in hope of any breeze. A random car muffled past. Garbled voices reverberated off the cement walls lining the street as patrons entered and left the local cantinas. Alcohol-infused laughter rose as couples strayed near the motel, anticipating an hour to release swollen hormones.

  Cal wiped the heat from his forehead in frustration. If he and Mary left with a stagger down the road, they’d blend in with the nightlife. It wouldn’t get them to the embassy, though. Whether he had used his allotment of energy, or his imagination didn’t work under pressure, another plan refused to form.

  His spine stiffened as a set of headlights led a car slowly into the parking lot. Most customers approached on foot at this hour. The vehicle idled in front of the office. He watched the passenger exit his side, enter the office, and return to his ride. Apparently not satisfied with the motel, the driver steered his vehicle back to the road.

  Cal’s shoulders sunk back into place as he ended his lookout. He decided another shower would energize him, then he’d awaken Mary and find a cab. Grabbing the sheet, which had been left in a crumpled mess on the floor and was still damp from their former showers, he took it to the bat
hroom.

  After a quick rinse, he turned the shower water off. At the same time a loud splintering of wood blasted through the room along with a scream and a muffled kicking of feet on the bed. He flicked the light switch off, hoping the intruder hadn’t seen the glow under the door.

  “You are marked. Put your clothes on.” A male voice, heavy with the native accent, spoke with a low and intense demand.

  Cal nearly charged from the restroom, knowing the intruder had Mary if he saw the mark on her neck. The bastard. Cal groped the floor for his briefs, then crouched down and squinted to see under the door which wasn’t level to the floor. Rushing the man who held a gun pointed at Mary, the same one who had recently visited the motel office, would be a death wish either now or later at Chenzira’s compound.

  The intruder yanked Mary from the bed. His back remained to the outside door. She tumbled to the floor with a corner of the blanket tucked against her chest. “Get up and dress.”

  Cal steamed with anger as he watched a combat boot kick her in the side. She held her scream. Her head lifted with anger and resentment darkening her brandy-colored eyes. “My clothes are behind you.”

  The intruder backed up a step. Pointing his gun to her lump of clothes, he repeated, “Dress. And where’s the man? He must come with. Both of you, or you die.”

  “He left for help. He’s gone.” Cal grimaced. She knew to give him time. A twinge of déjà vu engulfed him. Again, she depended on him. No injury this time. He couldn’t screw this up.

  The intruder put the muzzle of his gun against her temple, pressing into her skin. He glanced around the room, ignoring the dark bathroom. “Dress now. We will find him.”

  Cal fervently scanned the small bath, looking for something. Something to use as a weapon. Her tightly controlled voice came through the hollow door. “You won’t shoot me. You won’t know where to find him.”

  Cal looked toward the showerhead. It hung on the wall from a loose hook. A three-foot hose covered with a pliable metal shaft attached it to the plumbing.