Savage Beauty (The Arrow Tactical Series Book 5)

Chapter 17

“Security entered front door. Hold.”

My fingers clamp around Sloane’s elbow, holding her close.

Someone from Erik’s tech team breathes heavily into the speaker relaying static.

“Rounding the corner,” a female voice says into the comm.

Sloane steps forward, and I jerk her arm and give a quick shake of my head.

“Turned onto the far hall opposite side of the building. You’re good to go,” Erik announces in the comm. I adjust the earpiece, as it’s rubbing, and respond, “Oscar Mike.” Yes, we are on the move.

With my pistol raised, on the ready, and one hand on Sloane, we exit the building, hurry through the parking lot, cross the street, and reach our car. I don’t waste any time locking the doors and starting the ignition.

“Who the hell was that?” I ask the team.

“Whoever it was wasn’t in uniform. You must have triggered an alert when you entered.”

Obviously, the team is right. There were no wires. No lights. Damn if I know what we did that triggered any kind of alert.

“Matteo and Brooks are hanging back. We’ll let you know if anyone follows. He’s still in the building. Move.”

Matteo and Brooks are the local contract guys.

“I got a laptop,” Sloane announces loudly. “They cleared out my office.”

I shoot a glare her way. We’re in the car, but she doesn’t need to freaking shout.

“What?”

The woman tries my patience.

“You don’t need to shout. They can hear you.” I take out the earpiece and hand it to her. “Here. You carry on the conversation.”

She describes what she got, and perhaps most importantly, what she didn’t find. As I drive us back to the villa, I scan our surroundings, searching for any headlights or movement.

“Ask them if they got a photo of the person coming into the building.” If he wasn’t security, maybe Sloane will recognize the person checking up on us. There’s no way someone entering that building at one a.m. is a coincidence. The guy had to be checking on us.

“They didn’t,” she answers. “They can hear you.” She gives me a meme-worthy smart-ass expression that I would caption ‘When the guy sitting next to you is a complete moron.’

I roll my eyes at the attitude she’s spinning. “When you check the tape, send us a screenshot of the guy.”

I pull into an unoccupied house two doors down from our villa. Our villa has covered parking, but just in case someone saw our vehicle and goes hunting for it, I don’t want to lead them straight to our door.

With her hand in mine, we take a side path to the beach and follow the jagged shoreline to the path leading up to our villa.

Do I need to hold her hand?

Probably not. Then again, if anyone sees us, at first glance, we’ll look like a couple strolling along the beach late at night.

She speaks to the team as we walk. “Yes. Okay. Yes. Do you want to speak to him? Okay.” There’s a break where she’s listening. “Bye.” She pulls the piece out of her ear and tells me, “The guy who entered the building left. He walked to an apartment building nearby.”

That’s why we didn’t see headlights.

“No one followed us. They’re calling it a night. They’ll follow up in the morning. Oh, and they said I probably won’t be able to access the databases outside of the firewall, but if they can get their hands on the laptop, it might be just what they need to get in. So, we did good.”

As we approach the villa, I scan the area. No headlights, no soft purr of a combustion engine in the distance. Palm fronds waft below the moonlight, and cricket chirps mix in with the soft pulse of the surrounding turquoise sea. All clear.

When inside, I don’t let go of her hand until I place her against the wall and tell her to stay. Room by room, I clear the place.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins with the fury of a stormy, turbulent ocean. There’s no way I’ll fall asleep.

When I return to her after clearing the villa, she enters her bedroom and I enter mine, setting aside my weapons, one by one.

A light glows in the hall, beckoning me. A silent siren.

From across the hallway, she sits on the end of the bed, her bare feet flat on the floor and knees spread to each side in an unfeminine stance that gives me a view straight up her thighs. A silver laptop sits beside her, but she hasn’t opened it. She’s staring at it.

Her dark, silky strands fall haphazardly around her shoulders.

“Something wrong?” I ask from the doorway. With her legs open like that, I’ve got a view of a slip of white panties that I assume are cotton. I shouldn’t look. But I can’t help but take her all in. Thighs, panties, perky little breasts.

“He’s right.”

“Who is?”

“I grabbed the laptop, but I won’t be able to get what I need if we’re not on the network.”

“Erik will figure it out.”

“You have an erection.”

My palm flattens against the protrusion snaking up my pants, reaching the top of the waistband. She’s direct. And correct.

“Is it adrenaline?”

“That plays a part.” Her fingers glide over her thigh, inching closer to the apex. She leans back on her other hand, and the angle sends those perky nipples skyward. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me.”

“Why would you think that?” I’m sure every man who sees her wants her. She’s not my type, but I’m flexible. I’m a man, after all. If humans weren’t flexible with our preferences, our species wouldn’t be on the verge of overpopulation.

“I suggested sex. You weren’t interested.”

“Never said I wasn’t interested. I said we shouldn’t.”

“Why is that?” The tips of her fingers reach the seam of her panties, and the pad of her finger rubs up and down. Fuck, she’s hot. My palm presses hard down over my dick, up along the tip, giving it some much needed pressure.

She moves the lining of her white panties to the side.

And holy fuck.

Her finger slips inside her glorious, silky, pink pussy. She shifts on the mattress, and that finger goes deeper.

She pulls it out and slips it between her lips, sucking it.

My breaths are so fucking shallow it’s a wonder I’m standing.

“I’m wet.”

“I bet you taste good.”

She pushes up off the bed, that finger on her lower lip. Her skirt falls back in place, covering what I imagine is some very damp cotton.

And then she replaces my hand with hers. The tip of her nose traces along my neck and her hand explores the outline of my aching dick.

Christ.

If she keeps on like this, I’m going to spin her around, press her up against this wall, slide those panties to the side, and thrust deep inside. Fuck her hard.

I cup the back of her head to angle her and press my lips over hers. She opens, and my tongue slips past. The combination of our tongues and teeth clashing with her hand on my dick makes me lightheaded. Dizzy. Out of breath.

And then her bare hands are on me. Circling me. Stroking me.

Holy fuck.

My eyes roll into the back of my head. I break the kiss, gasping for air.

I shouldn’t do this. But why the fuck not?

If there was a reason, it’s sure as fuck not coming to me right now. She has just the right pressure, the right movement.

“Is this what you want?” I somehow manage to ask.

“Yes.”

Her grip strengthens, and my knees nearly buckle.

“Are you sure?”

“I’d say the evidence at hand supports my statement.” Christ, she’s got one smart mouth on her.

My restraint snaps. I spin her around and lift the shirt until it gets snagged near her armpits. “Raise those arms.” It’s a growl. And yes, my dick whimpers from the loss of her touch, but the shirt goes flying.

Her breasts are bared to me because she’s not wearing a fucking bra. Fuck if my mouth doesn’t water. One hand goes to her throat, locking her in place against the wall, while the other dips to her panties, dipping inside to test those waters. And fuck me. She’s fucking drenched. She squirms on my fingers, getting herself off.

My tongue laves one nipple, sucking the peak into my mouth, and when my teeth apply pressure, she gasps.

“Ahhhh.” The sounds out of her mouth are a mix of moans, sighs, and high-pitched pleas.

Finally. She, too, is at a loss for words.

I have two fingers deep in her channel, and my thumb circles her clit. Her knee bends, pressing into my leg. It’s as if she’d fall to the ground if I didn’t hold her up.

I move to her other breast, and just as my lower teeth scrape her tender skin, she detonates on my hand, quivering. I lift my head in time to take in her closed eyelids and open mouth. The look on her face is one of pure bliss. Uninhibited, flushed, and wild. She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Her arms encircle my shoulders, and my mouth claims hers again. Only this time, the kiss is slow. Easier. And fuck, I want her. I want her so badly my body aches with need.

She lets out a loud sigh and rests her head against the side of mine. Her breaths slow, and her fingers tousle with my hair. Her eyelids blink open, and I get a good look at her dark, sated irises. The tip of her tongue laps her bottom lip as the rising and falling of her chest slows.

“I want you inside me.” The words are so soft, I’m uncertain I heard her correctly. Then her fingers wrap around my cock, which at this point pulses with need. “Please.”

“I don’t have a condom.” My forehead presses against hers. The truth aches in my chest. Because damn if I don’t want to slide into her, to feel her as she comes hard on my cock.

“I do.” Once again, she lets me go, and my poor dick whimpers at the loss of her touch. She saunters over to the black duffel she took from her apartment and digs into it. She pushes off the floor, holding a familiar square packet, and grins. “Sam’s emergency go bag.”

“Your brother packed condoms for you?”

“No.” She shakes her head, grinning, and that black skirt falls to the floor, along with those white panties. “He packed license plates, cash, and alternate identities.” This doesn’t surprise me, as he did the same thing for Sage. He must’ve been mixed up in some scary shit before he died. “I figured an emergency bag should have condoms.”

“I really like the way you think.” That’s what I say, but I’m plastered to the wall, all focus on her, sauntering to me, condom in hand. She’s so fucking hot, I’m frozen. Taking her in. She is too thin, but fuck if I’m not mesmerized by those long legs and her flat stomach and the peaks of her nipples that punctuate the slight curves of her breasts.

And then she’s before me, within touching distance. “Take off your shirt.”

This is one time I do not mind a bossy woman. I do exactly as she asks as she tugs on my waistband.

I throw my shirt across the room, and she kneels before me. My pants and briefs are around my ankles. She works on my bootlaces, and I let her, lifting a foot when she tells me. I grip myself and stroke, all the while watching as she strips me of my unnecessary clothes.

Her palms flatten on my thighs, and she rises…only she stops, mouth hovering over my dick. I’m holding the base of my shaft, and her tongue traces up my flesh.

Every ounce of oxygen leaves my lungs with her ascension, and when her mouth takes my crown, I fucking gasp.

My balls tighten.

I let her hot mouth take me, suck me, move up and down. For a little while. What she’s doing feels so fucking good. I don’t want her to stop. Want her to do whatever she wants. I can let her—my lower back tightens. That’s it. That’s the signal. Any more, and I’ll blow. I pull her off.

She grins. It’s the grin of a woman who knows she gets to call all the shots. And she’s fucking right.

She tears the condom using her teeth. Somehow, I swallow.

Her brows come together in concentration as she rolls it down my shaft, and her fingers test the reservoir, ensuring there’s room for me to unload. She’s a fucking pro.

“Ready?” she asks.

And boy, am I ever.

I spin her up against the wall again, kicking my shoes and whatever else is on the floor out of the way. With a bend of my knees, I position myself at her entrance. She lifts one leg, and I loop my arm beneath her lithe leg and rock into her. She’s tight. So fucking tight. Gloriously tight.

I have to pull out and push, stretching her. Forcing her to take me.

“Breathe, baby.” Maybe she’s too tight like this, standing. But then she breathes, and those eyelids close, and she relaxes in my arms. And with one last thrust, I’m balls deep, as deep as I can go.

I have to stop because it feels too fucking good. She feels too fucking good.

And then we’re rocking together.

She comes against the wall, eyelids closed, moaning. Her muscles grip me and I slow, watching her in wonder. When her eyelids flicker open, a slight smile on those lips, I kiss her. I’m still deep inside her, but this deep, long kiss feels more intimate. She breaks the kiss with a gasp, and I pull out, then spin her, placing her hands on the dresser. I dip, pressing my lips to her back and taste her salty skin. “Hold on,” I whisper.

“Like this?” She looks over her shoulder, ass out. Eyes sultry, lips glistening, skin flushed.

“Just like that.”

I drag my tip between her folds. She stretches, reaching for me. Like she wants to impale herself on me. If that’s what she wants, I’m a giver.

I slam into her. Over and over, slapping her impertinent ass until it pinks. With each pop, she groans and demands, “Again.”

She’s a fucking goddess.

I’m close, but I want her to come with me. I reach around and massage her, then pull back and slap that bundle of nerves. And fuck. She pulses around me, milking me. And it’s too much. I lose it. An explosion. A climax like no fucking other.

Perspiration drips down my forehead. Keeping her ass against me, she collapses on the dresser, arms braced across the wood. My chest stretches across her, hovering over her damp skin, still pulsing out my release.

Gripping her hips, I hold her to me, skin on skin, mind blown. We didn’t even make it to the bed.