Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
So Ryan wanted to know something he didn’t already know? Fine. She was friends with criminals. Lots and lots of criminals. She knew killers. She knew scammers. She knew the worst of the worst. Now, granted, the worst of the worst were not what she’d call her closest friends…
But her list of associates was incredibly damning. Especially when viewed through the lens of the CIA.
He’d gotten them back to London. Taken them to a hotel that was beyond swanky just along the edge of Hyde Park.
The place screamed money in the loudest possible voice, but hotels like this one—if they were screaming money, then they were also screaming security.
The elegant building was truly like Fort Knox.
Guards positioned at all exterior doors.
Cameras throughout. And in order to get up to the exclusive floor where she was currently residing, you had to have a very special key card that would give you access to a private elevator.
An elevator that was, of course, guarded.
They were in a corner suite. One where the decorator had chosen to go hard with a dark blue and lots and lots of shimmering chandeliers. Personally, Simone didn’t love the décor, but she was obsessed with the safety so…it works. It all works.
A knock sounded on the bathroom door. Because, well, she’d been soaking in the giant claw-foot tub in the suite’s bathroom for at least the last half hour. Soaking. Hiding. Plotting. The usual.
“Simone?” The doorknob rattled.
Good luck with the rattling. She’d locked the door.
“Simone, are you alive?”
Her eyes narrowed on the door. “Yes.” She sank more comfortably into the tub. Her bubbles were dispersing. Probably a sign that she should get out.
“Fabulous. So glad you’re still in the land of the living.” And the door flew open.
She gasped and whipped down deeper into the lingering bubbles. Her hands covered her breasts, and then, realizing that she’d left a very important part of herself vulnerable, she immediately slapped one hand over her lower, ah, goods, and kept her left arm over her breasts. “What are you doing?”
He turned toward her voice, even as one hand kept gripping the door. “You locked the door.” His gaze remained on her face. Only on her face.
“Yes. Because I am naked in here.”
His gaze stayed on her face. A muscle flexed along his jaw.
“What did you think I was doing?” Simone snapped.
“Hiding. Plotting. Planning how to get away from me.”
Okay, it was both eerie and a bit impressive the way Ryan had listed all of her activities. Time to regroup and distract him. “You picked the lock. That’s naughty.”
Another flex of the muscle along his jaw. And that stare of his did not leave her face.
“It’s also impressive,” she heard herself say, “the way you haven’t looked down.”
“You have no idea how impressive.” A growl. Then, “I need to clean up, too, Simone.”
“There’s, um, a shower right there.” She would have pointed to the side, but her hands were busy.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You want me to shower…while you are right here?”
Where was the problem? The bathroom had a tub and a separate shower. “You’re seeing me naked.”
“I am keeping my eyes on your face.”
“Yes, you are, and that’s fabulous, but you could have been gentlemanly and never come into the bathroom in the first place. Or, once in…and once you saw that I was not up to some wicked deed, you could have left.”
His lips thinned. “Feels fucking wicked.” A mumble.
“Um. Also, we are on a higher floor. Not like I was going to open the bathroom window and scale down the building.” She’d considered it but tossed the idea after looking outside. Just not really feasible. The odds of her breaking a bone had been too high. “But back to you leaving.”
He swallowed.
“You have not left the bathroom yet.”
“No.”
“If you’re not leaving, then why not just jump in the shower? Fair is fair.”
“Excuse me?” His hands fisted at his sides.
Maybe it was her imagination, but his breathing seemed to have become decidedly more ragged. “Fair is fair,” Simone repeated because that seemed to have been the part he missed. “I’m naked. You’re getting the full show.”
“I am not getting the full show.”
Again, only because he was making that intense eye-contact. “I should get the same treatment. The same show. Strip. Shower.” A slight pause. “I could even promise not to look.” She could promise. She would not.
“Fair is fair.” Gritted.
Ah, now that was the spirit. She nodded.
He turned away from her.
Her breath left her in a fast rush. She did not normally hold full conversations with men while she was naked in a bathtub. In fact, this had been a jarring first for her. She started to grab for a nearby towel.
Except…
He began to strip.
He jerked off his white dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. He’d long since lost his bow tie someplace, and she could not remember where or when he’d ditched that. But when the shirt hit the floor, her gaze locked on the broad, powerful expanse of his back.
He opened the glass shower door. Yanked on the water.
He backed up to kick away his shoes and ditch his socks, and then his hands went to the waist of his pants.
Do not stop now.
Her body had inched toward the right wall of the tub. She turned on her side, a better position to hide herself, and her hand curled around the tub’s top as she peeked at him.
Oh, yum.
He had tattoos. He should not have tattoos. Not. Ryan should have been buttoned up and boring, but…
Her spy was not boring.
He was not some silver-spoon-in-his-mouth, rich tycoon. He did not spend his days behind a desk or yachting around the world. He had muscles and abs for days, and the most badass, gorgeous tattoos imaginable.
Especially that dragon on his arm. Those claws. Those scales.
Simone bit her lower lip. She’d always had a weakness for a man with tats.
“You’re not looking at my eyes, Simone,” he rasped.
“No, I am not.” A click as she swallowed. “Nice tats.” There was more ink on his chest. Dark. Twisting. Gorgeous.
“These are actually my real ones.”
Her brows rose. “As opposed to the fake ones that you have?”
“Sometimes I get fake ones for jobs. When the job is done, they fade away.”
Interesting. “I’m glad the dragon is legit. Because if it were to vanish, I’d be so disappointed.”
“You got a thing for dragons?”
She had a thing for hot badasses who killed for her. Stop it, woman. Stop. “I like it when a person can handle, ah, hot situations.”
“Fuck.”
Oh, but she was tempted to do just that. Except that fucking Ryan would only lead to more trouble. “You can’t shower with your pants on.” An obvious point. She was quite curious to see the rest of the show. Do not stop now.
“Thought you promised not to look.”
She had turned more on her side so that her breasts were pressed against the wall of the tub.
From his angle, she thought he could only see the curve of her hip.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the tub as she lifted her head up a little more.
“I said I could promise not to do that. I didn’t actually make the promise.
” But if he wanted to be a party pooper… “Shall I look away?”
“I’m not shy.” He unbuttoned his pants. Unzipped.
She might have held her breath.
His pants and a pair of black boxers hit the floor.
Wow.
He was…
“Good show,” she whispered.
Big. Heavily aroused. A wide, long cock surged toward her. A fantastically muscled, tatted body. An eager dick that promised an incredible ride.
Her nipples ached. Her sex quivered.
And he strode into the shower. Pulled the glass door shut behind him and stood underneath the heavy fall of water.
Good show, indeed. Her heart raced, her body tingled in all the best ways, and Simone realized that fair was truly fair.
She rose from the tub. The water poured from her body. As if sensing the movement, Ryan craned back around. She could have grabbed a towel to cover herself, but what would have been the point in that?
Fair was fair.
“Look anywhere,” Simone told him, raising her voice to be sure he could hear her over the thunder of the shower, “but at my eyes.”
The water and a few bubbles slid down her body as she climbed from the tub. Her feet touched the ultra-soft, ultra-thick bath rug that waited. Ryan angled his body fully toward her. She felt his gaze like a hot, sensual touch on her skin.
Her feet edged closer to him so that she stood in front of the closed shower door. No hiding for her. Just standing right there. Offering him the full show.
He moved closer to the glass door, too. Big, strong body. So powerful. Only the thin glass separated them. She really hated that glass because if it wasn’t there, then maybe he’d be touching her.
What are you doing, Simone? The last bit of her rational self seemed to scream from somewhere deep inside. Grab a towel. Put on a robe. Get out of here.
But…
No one had ever protected her the way he had. No one had ever fought so fiercely for her.
And she’d never wanted someone quite as much.
“It’s a shame that door is between us,” she whispered. Low words. He probably couldn’t make them out. Not with the roar of the water. “Because I’d rather you be touching me.” Her right hand rose, skimmed down her chest. Over her stomach.
He tensed behind the door.
Down her hand went. Her thighs parted.
“Simone.”
Her fingers slid between her legs. Feathered over her clit. “I bet it would feel so much better if you touched me.”
He ripped open the door. Jumped onto the rug right in front of her. Ryan grabbed Simone and hauled her against him. His mouth crashed onto hers. Her mouth was open, eager. Her lips and tongue waiting for him because hunger and lust consumed her.
She felt his hand slide away from her hip. It angled between them. His broad, wet fingers pushed between her legs. Over her clit. Stroked her even as he dipped into—
Something was ringing. No, pealing? Like…
Her mouth tore from his. “What is that sound? Bells?”
His fingers raked over her clit.
She shuddered. Her knees almost gave way. Her body was on the edge, way too tight and needy.
But she was hearing the freaking bells again.
He stroked her, harder, more demanding.
A moan broke from her even as her hands clamped around his shoulders. “There are bells! It’s an alarm or—ah, yes! It’s…something.”
His head lifted. His eyes were almost blind with lust. Burning dark.
“Ryan?”
He let her go. Backed away. Nearly hit the edge of the shower. “Bells?” His eyes narrowed. “Fuck!”
If only.
She grabbed a fluffy robe and yanked it around her body. “I’m assuming…” Simone stopped and cleared her throat. “I’m assuming this swanky place has some sort of doorbell for each suite? That’s the sound I’m hearing?”
He reached into the shower and turned off the water. “Yes.” A hiss.
“Then we have company.” Company who had just interrupted before they could cross a very big line. Maybe it was for the best. Sex with Ryan probably would have been a major mistake.
But, oh, she bet it would have felt incredible.
Simone belted the robe with fingers that shook. “Why do we have company? And is it the kind of company that is here to potentially kill us?”
He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips. Water trickled down his chest. That fantastic chest. “Stay here.” He anchored the towel against his left hip and strode out.
She watched him go. “Yeah, sure, no problem. I’ll just stay in the bathroom and wait to see if we live or die. Cool.”
He froze in the doorway. Then Ryan glanced back at her. “I’m damn well not dying before I fuck you.”
Her lips parted, but she could not speak. No flippant remark at all because his words had sounded entirely like a vow.
The door clicked closed behind him.
Her hands shoved into the pockets of her robe. “Good to know,” she whispered. Very, very good to know.