Chapter 46
Sean
As my brain registers shots fired, Mace hurls Lillian over the railing. When she disappears under the water, I hold my breath, letting it out as her head pops up by the stern.
No blood. Thank God.
On the port side, in the murky stream, I back along the boat until my body shields her from the shooter. “Do not fire your Beretta, babe.”
“Not an idiot, sweetheart.” She opens my dry bag and tugs out my spare. “But I will relieve you of your Glock.”
She calmly checks the magazine as Mace shouts from the bow, “Roof. Two o’clock. Above the Mexican restaurant.”
It’s not until a long-range scope catches the sun that I return fire.
Meanwhile, tourists and joggers scream, bolting inside the buildings. My gaze flicks from them to the rooftop to where she crouches behind the craft.
“You okay?” I ask.
She twirls her finger for me to turn around. “I’m fine. Keep shooting.”
As I’m about to take aim, a rifle cracks from the upper level of the River Walk.
A man groans. Sixty bullet-free seconds later, Dante reports in. “Target down. I repeat. Target is down.”
Lillian grabs my arm. “Is it really over?”
“Almost. Stay put. I’ll see to our prisoners.” After brushing my lips over hers, I slog a few hundred feet through the water to where Mace aims a weapon at our two escaping captives. With their wrists cuffed behind their backs, they didn’t get far.
Squad cars, ambulances, emergency vehicles, fire trucks, FBI sedans, SWAT… By the time they arrive, there’s nothing for them to do.
Of course, we’re whisked away in cuffs to the local police station where Dante’s lawyers do all the talking.
The FBI shows up next. Very Special Agent Schlegel threatens to arrest us, but she calms the fuck down when our boss hands her the laptop, all the proof she needs to tie Boyle to the toy drone virus attack.
Hours pass before Dante drops us off at our motel’s parking lot. “Departure is 9:00 AM sharp. We’ll take my jet home.”
Inside our room, I set my weapons on the dresser, then strip off my dirty clothes. Lil does the same.
“Dibs on the shower.” Naked, filthy, she giggles, racing for the bathroom.
Before she can lock me out, I catch the door and kiss her like I’ve wanted to since our fight. I may be shit at telling her how I feel, but I can sure as hell show her.
Mouth open, she tilts her head. When her nails scratch the perfect erotic spot in my neck, I shiver, adding my tongue to the kiss.
Moaning, she presses against me, sending a jolt of sexual electricity through my body.
Part torture, part delight, I hold her in place, adjusting the faucet using my free hand. Once the water warms, I lift her into the tub.
Caked-on mud flows off our bodies, down the drain. Pumping the soap, she works it into lavender foam.
“Love these.” Her hands slide across my pecs.
Turning her palms inward, I bring them to her breasts and move them over her nipples. “Love yours more.”
“Mmm.” When her eyes find mine, the black centers almost cover the irises.
Under the spray, mouths connected, she shampoos my head before scrubbing her own scalp. Somehow, we manage to climb out of the bath.
As I snatch a towel from the rack, she turns in my arms. Chest to the counter, butt high, her clit swells.
“Oh, baby.” My starving cock weeps for her.
Knees bent, I grab her hips, then sink into her tight sheath.
A press to her swollen nub is all it takes to set her off.
Mindless, I piston, giving her pleasure, taking mine.
“Sean! Oh God.” She comes hard.
Quivering orgasmic muscles send a thrill to the base of my spine.
Following her bliss, pleasure rockets through my veins. No idea where she stops and I begin, I thrust one last time and release inside her.
Spent, afraid to break the spell, neither of us moves.
Afterward, I carry her to the bed, where we alternate between sleeping and making love until the sun rises.