Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“So,” Camila continued with her story, holding her red wine at dinner that night, “imagine Carter dangling from that rope without his pants . . . while this snarling Belgian Malinois whipped his jeans around in his mouth down below, tearing them apart.”
“No, I actually can’t picture that,” Sydney responded, her stomach hurting from how hard she’d been laughing from all the “Carter Tales” Camila had shared that evening.
“Tell me the dog got his boxers too. Or is he a briefs guy?” Mya asked with a chuckle while going for her glass of wine too.
Camila leaned back in her chair and peeked at Mya sitting at her side at the six-person table. “He was buck-ass-naked. Well, the bottom half of him.”
Oliver held a hand up and grinned, snatching his wineglass as well. “Please tell me I have permission to tease him at some point with one of these stories?”
They’d set out to keep up appearances by having dinner together at the hotel. Drinking wine. Eating too much food. Couples in love, yada yada yada. They’d easily fallen into their roles, and for Sydney, it hadn’t felt fake all night. It helped to have Camila distracting them with her adventurous life.
“If you want Carter to kill you, sure,” Camila finally answered Oliver.
“Well, what I need to know,” Sydney began, “is how Carter got down from that rope.”
“I saved his ass. Quite literally.” Camila reached for the bottle of red on the table and added more to her glass. “Dogs seem to love me, so I came in for the rescue and calmed him down. With Carter’s pants and briefs ripped to shreds, I had to give him my jacket so he could maintain what was left of his dignity in front of the ten guys out in that field working with us that day.”
“And how many times have you two worked together since he left the Agency?” Beckett asked as he reached for Sydney’s hand on top of the table and lightly squeezed. Was that for show? Or had he forgotten Gray was across the table from him and simply wanted to touch her?
Sydney had her answer in a matter of seconds when Beckett cleared his throat and withdrew his hand to his lap.
“We have teamed up a few times.” Camila’s dark brows lifted as she studied Beckett, and it was clear in her expression she understood the messy situation.
Oliver patted his stomach and yawned. “How long are we going to stay?” He checked his watch. “I don’t think Miguel’s going to eat here tonight after all.”
When Sydney had hacked the hotel’s system earlier, she’d discovered Miguel had made dinner reservations there for nine. No show yet. And it was well past ten.
“I’ll text one of my men to get an update.” Camila pulled her phone from her purse and began typing.
“I’m in no rush to go back to our suite,” Mya commented once Camila set her phone on the table by her plate.
“This one,” Oliver said while waving a hand Mya’s way, “is crazy. Do you know what she did before we came here for dinner?”
While waiting for Oliver to share, Sydney thought back to what she, herself, had done before dinner.
She’d taken a shower and dressed alone. Because Beckett couldn’t seem to stand being in the same room with her. He’d cleaned up and changed into his jeans and white button-down dress shirt in a matter of seconds before telling her he’d wait in the lobby.
Carter had provided him with a new phone, so he’d said he’d call his daughter and sister to check in while she got ready.
She knew him leaving their suite while she showered was the smart play if they were going to behave and reduce the risk of temptation.
Regardless of Gray’s blessing, they were still on a mission, and they didn’t need to further explore their feelings for each other there. It wasn’t the time or place.
But that’d still left her feeling a tad disappointed his control hadn’t snapped when they’d shared those handful of minutes alone before he’d taken off for the lobby.
“Well, are you going to tell us what Mya did that was crazy, or should we guess?” Camila asked Oliver, breaking through Sydney’s thoughts.
Mya sipped her wine before saying, “He’s shitty at stories, unlike you.”
“I don’t know where she got the string and duct tape, but she created a barrier between our beds,” Oliver finally revealed. “Taped the string up on each wall, then draped one of the gray sheets over it as her protection from me.”
“I don’t need to run the risk you might try and check me out while I’m in my pajamas tonight.” Classic Mya. And Sydney loved her for that.
“You also chose the bed that’s next to the bathroom, and I have orders not to take a piss in the middle of the night.” Oliver’s tone was anything but angry though. “Are you really worried I might see you in your pajamas? You forget I saw you topless on Sunday.”
“You did?” Gray cocked his head to the side and shot Oliver a puzzled look.
And shit, you don’t need to know I was topless too. Sydney peered at Mya, hopeful she’d get the message to save her.
“I decided to be wild. Tossed my top,” Mya explained. “Had I known Oliver would show up, I wouldn’t have been so?—”
“Brazen?” Oliver finished for her, and Mya shook her head and took a rather large gulp of wine.
“Are they always like this?” Camila waved her finger between the two of them.
“He brings out the?—”
“Child in you?” Oliver once again cut off Mya.
In Sydney’s opinion, Oliver was right. But Sydney rather enjoyed seeing this side of Mya. She’d spent the last few years hunting human traffickers, and the damage she knew that’d done on her psyche, well . . . Mya deserved to be young and playful again. And if Oliver brought that out, Sydney was happy to see it. In a brother-like or lover-like way, the jury was still out.
“Well, Gray, I don’t think we need a wall between our beds,” Camila began before searching Sydney’s gaze, “unless you’d prefer us to?”
“Oh.” Ohhhh.
“It’s fine,” Gray answered for Sydney, but she was grateful his tone wasn’t clipped or angry. That was a start.
Camila reached for her phone when it buzzed on the table. “Looks like they’re not coming here. They’re at another restaurant in the city.”
“So much for being seen as couples. I guess you can put your arm down, Romeo,” Oliver joked to Gray.
Gray’s wince at the word Romeo didn’t escape Sydney’s attention, but he quickly erased his expression while dragging his arm away from the back of Camila’s chair.
Romeo. When joining Falcon, Sydney had learned Romeo had been Gray’s Army call sign. And hers, ironically, had been Juliet.
“I guess we’ll wait to get their attention tomorrow, then,” Mya commented as if picking up on the tension rising again.
Tension Sydney hoped would soon fizzle since Gray had given Beckett his blessing.
And God help her, she wasn’t sure if it was the wine or not, but she couldn’t help but wish she could test that blessing out in the bedroom tonight.
Sydney and Beckett exited the elevator and halted at the sight three doors down.
Jesse McAdams stood outside his door alone, a keycard in hand. He peered at them from over his shoulder, sensing he wasn’t alone, and the moment her eyes met his, relief washed over her. But were they safe to talk?
She discreetly looked around for a camera and spotted one overhead as she and Beckett started for their room.
Jesse made a show of fumbling his keycard and cursed under his breath as it fell to the carpeted floor. He squatted to grab it and whispered, “Meet me at the coffee shop at six a.m.” Then he stood, swiped the card, and disappeared into his room.
“Maybe you should go alone tomorrow?” she asked Beckett once they were in their suite.
“If you think so.” He slid the chain lock across the door and faced her. “It feels good to know we’re near him.”
“It does,” she responded while mindlessly going for the knot of the belt of her red wrap dress.
“Sydney.” Beckett’s gruff voice had her fingers going still, conjuring memories of the orange sash from her dress in Mexico and how he’d bound her wrists with it.
“Oh.” She blinked and refastened the knot so the dress remained on. One pull, and it’d fall open, exposing her strapless bra and matching satin panties.
Beckett removed the loafers he’d bought earlier when they’d played the role of tourists. He’d also picked up a few other outfits, same as her. The white button-down shirt and jeans were new as well.
His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, exposing his strong, corded forearms. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone. And his hair was styled and parted to the side. Well, it had been until he tossed a hand through it moments ago, as if annoyed by the stiffness of the gel there. And why’d that little act turn her on even more?
“How are we going to do this?” She slipped off the red heels she’d bought with the dress that day and toed them aside before taking two steps his way.
“Do what exactly?” He knew precisely what she meant. But did he want her to spell it out for him? Be the one to break?
And she would. Because she could barely share the same air with Beckett without every part of her body begging to be touched by him.
Putting the two of them together in a room with one bed, a sexy clawfoot tub in front of a wall of glass and a view of the mountains . . . and for them not to make love? How the hell would they survive the week?
Gray already knew they’d slept together. He’d “okayed” their relationship. Not that she needed permission, but it did feel good to have it. And at the moment, the mission was on standby until she sang at the club tomorrow night.
So, was there anything truly stopping them right now from giving in to what they both desperately craved?
I was the one to suggest we put on the brakes. She was pretty sure that was the rational side of her brain coming in with that reminder, but she wanted to toss those thoughts free from her mind. To live and be present in the moment.
She nodded, deciding to cast fear and caution aside, and announced, “I’m going to take my clothes off.” She went for the knot of the fabric belt. “Take a bath.”
“Sydney,” he said again, nearly growling her name.
But she ignored his warning the same as she’d done seconds ago with her own internal monologue. Once the belt was untied, the jersey-fabric dress parted. She shrugged the material back so it fell to her feet. Bra off next beneath his intense stare.
Her nipples hardened with him surveying every inch of her exposed skin while he quietly stroked his jaw.
To push the envelope a touch more, she traced her tongue along the seam of her lips while slowly lowering her satin panties.
She strutted to the tub, swaying her hips a bit before bending over to turn on the water.
“You’re naked in front of the window.” His growly tone had her knees pinning together with desire. “What if someone sees you?”
“Let them.” There were no other buildings in sight as tall as their hotel, which made it pretty damn difficult for anyone to catch a peek of her.
“Do you think I’m the type of man who’d run the risk of another person seeing his woman naked?”
His woman? She stood upright, then continued with the teasing act by smoothing her hands along the sides of her body. “Do you think I’m the type of woman to let a man stop me from doing what I want?”
At the feel of his hand sliding beneath her mass of hair to grasp the nape of her neck, she remembered the fantasy that’d inspired her orgasm earlier in the shower.
He held her gently, guiding her around with that one touch until she faced him. His brows were drawn tight, his eyes dark with arousal.
“You will not take a bath in front of a window with the curtains open, I can promise you that.” He brought his face closer to hers, and she tipped her chin, preparing to be defiant. Why did this thrill her so much? Why did she love how he was a gentleman outside the bedroom, but in there, a dominant force to be reckoned with? And every part of her wanted to be controlled by him.
But resisting a little first would be more fun, so she couldn’t help herself.
Because the woman she was tonight and really ever since he showed up in Mexico, was a far cry from the one she’d been since becoming a mother thirteen years ago. She’d buried that wilder, semi-reckless side of herself. And he was bringing her back to life. Hell, she felt more alive now than ever.
“And yet, the curtains are still open,” she reminded him. His jaw strained, as if angry at himself for allowing her to stand there as long as she already had. But still, he didn’t budge.
“You’re being awfully bratty tonight.” He tipped his head, his wickedly sexy mouth nearly slanting over hers. “What is it that you want, Sydney?”
“I just want to be yours,” she confessed a bit breathlessly. He groaned and captured her mouth, drawing her against him with one hand on her ass and his other still holding the back of her neck.
His tongue met hers with such a ferocious intensity that she nearly fell back into the tub, but he kept her upright with his firm grip.
After exploring her mouth with his tongue, he eased back and stared deep into her eyes. “I don’t want you moving once I get you in position . . . you good with that?” He released her and stepped away.
“You can do whatever you want to me,” she eagerly gave him her permission. “I trust you.”
His eyes narrowed at her use of the word trust before he ran his hand over the length of her throat and down to her breast, clasping it a bit roughly. And damn, did she like that.
Still holding her eyes, he leaned in and nipped her lip. “Say stop anytime. Okay?”
Wasn’t going to happen, but if he needed to hear it, sure. “Do I need a specific safe word, is that how all this works?”
“Honestly, I’ve never done anything like this. This has only happened in my head with you.”
She ran her tongue along the line of her lips.
“So, what’s your safe word?”
“Mmmm. I’m good with just saying stop, not that I’ll need to.”
“Stop,” he repeated with a nod. “Okay.”
He let go of her as his hand traveled to the buttons of his dress shirt, and she groaned at the loss of his touch. But with every button coming undone, it had her anticipation building more and more.
He finally peeled his shirt back, exposing his golden tan skin, and she reached forward, prepared to smooth a hand over his chest hair, but he shook his head. A reminder to not move. And he’d clearly meant that in every possible sense.
Beckett moved around the tub, his pants the only thing still on after he’d discarded his loafers and shirt. As promised, he drew the curtains together, but then he shut off the water and approached her once again.
“You can take a bath after. You’ll probably be sore,” he rasped while removing his belt.
She gulped, wondering if he planned to use it on her, but then he tossed it to the ground and quickly removed his pants and black briefs.
He surprised her by scooping her into his arms, then carried her to the bed. He set her on the edge and demanded, “Stay seated, sweetheart. And you’re going to do exactly what I say. What do you think will happen if you don’t?”
She set both palms alongside her, staring at him as he lowered to his knees on the floor. Her heart jumped when he grabbed her hips and nearly pulled her off the bed, drawing her pussy closer to him. “You won’t give me what I want?” she whispered her answer. “Or . . .”
God, this was new. She didn’t know how to navigate it all. Did she tell this man she wanted him to torture her a little, but in some type of pleasurable way? That’s a thing, right? God, she wished she’d read more than that one romance book to know what to say or do.
He winked. “I guess you’ll find out if you misbehave.”
She chewed on her lip, curious what was going to happen next.
He ran his finger along the inside of her thigh before drawing her leg up, positioning her foot above his pec, and then did the same with the other. “Stay like that.”
Her back was arched a bit, and she rested her forearms on the bed.
“I’m guessing you’re going to want to move. So, push your feet against me instead.” He ran his finger over the lips of her sex, and she flinched with excitement from the gentle touch. “I’d rather find something to hold you down, but this is the best I can do for now.”
“Oh? And what would you like to do if you could?” She inhaled a shaky breath and let it go. “Tell me.”
He angled his head, drawing his gaze from her wet center to meet her eyes. “Cuff your ankles to something to keep your legs spread open for me. Bind your wrists.” His dark eyes looked nearly haunted by his need for her, and she had a feeling her eyes were but a mirror of his.
She was desperate for this man to do anything and absolutely everything to her. Whatever he desired. She wanted it. All of it.
“That’s how I imagined you in my head during my shower this morning,” he said like a confession, but in her mind, he needed no absolution.
“And what happened next? What would you do to me? Your words, they’re . . . making me even wetter.” She’d never known words could be so . . . sexually powerful?
He smirked and surprised her by bringing his mouth near her sex, his tongue peeking out between his lips without yet touching her. She shifted closer with desperation to have his mouth on her, but he pulled his face back as a reminder “not to move.”
“Mm. Now I understand the need to tie me up.” She smiled, and the dark hint of a smile from him was all she got in return before he ran the flat part of his tongue over her sex. She followed his order, only pushing against his hard body with her feet in response to what felt like eternal bliss from one stroke of his tongue.
And then his mouth was gone again.
Torture, all right.
She was already panting from just this moment alone.
“I want you to watch. The whole time. I need you to see how beautiful you look,” he ordered in a low, deep voice.
She bit down on her back teeth while watching him touch her most sensitive part, worshiping her. Then he set a small kiss there, and when he looked up, he withdrew his mouth. Oh, God. Yesss.
“I want you to see how fucking delectable you are. I need you to watch yourself while I’m between your legs. Don’t watch me. Look at yourself .”
God, that was going to be hard. Refrain from looking at his long, dark lashes? Or peer into his brown eyes? To not study his granite jawline as it flexed when he went down on her?
She did need to be restrained.
“I’ll obey.” Try to.
“Good girl.” He smiled. “But where are your eyes supposed to be?”
Right, she shouldn’t have seen that gorgeous smile of his if she’d been obeying. Her heart hammered in her chest with anticipation as she walked her focus back to her own sex. He pushed two fingers inside her, which had her almost bucking up off the bed, so she clenched her teeth in an attempt not to move.
His fingers glistened with her arousal when he removed them, and he slid his index finger over the swollen part of her again. This had to be the most erotic thing she’d ever watched.
He slowly licked her sensitive flesh again, then added two fingers inside her once more, pumping in and out with every flick of his tongue.
And when his mouth sank over her, eclipsing her view of her pussy, she released a shuddery moan, on the verge of coming. Her eyes went to the ceiling and he must’ve noticed, because he withdrew his face.
“Sorry.” She quickly returned her attention where he demanded it to see him lightly swat her sex, just like he’d done in her fantasy in the shower earlier. Then he gently set his mouth on her again as if kissing away any possible sting.
And when she witnessed his tongue swirl over her swollen flesh just before sucking, she came undone. The pleasure had built too much to hold back any longer.
She trembled as she began rocking her hips faster and faster, unable to stop herself from nearly grinding against his face. And this time, he didn’t command her to stay still.
“Fuck me, please. While I’m still coming,” she begged.
Beckett had her on her back and farther up the bed in a heartbeat, and in the next breath, he sank inside her in one hard move.
He hissed while staring into her eyes, and she grabbed hold of his biceps while continuing to ride the longest orgasm of her life.
His brows dipped. “I’m not going to be able to walk away from you after this, you know that, right?”