Chapter Fifteen

This man. This wonderful, foolish man was taking too long to decide his next move. Operational awareness, big guy. Aren't you paying any attention to your surroundings? The vault was locked up tight. The shower had just turned on. Ms. Tuesday Smart was out of their way for now. She wouldn't be back for a good ten, fifteen minutes. But, hello, big guy! Once she opened that darned door, Everlee would miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She could almost hear the squeaky gears grinding in Shane's hard head. What was he waiting for? Permission? Didn't he know that, sometimes, thinking was over-rated?

He was so close, way inside her comfort zone. The moment she'd tipped her head back to look up at him, his gaze fell to her mouth, and she'd known she had him. There was no flirty exchange between them. No manly glint in his eyes. Only heat and desire so thick she could taste it. Lucky for him, Everlee wasn't a sit-patiently-by-the-hearthside-and-pine-for-your man kind of woman. Not that he was any woman's man—or hers. Stretching up on her toes, she grabbed hold of the sturdy knit collar on his TEAM polo, jerked his ruggedly handsome face down to her level, closed her eyes, and slammed his mouth over hers.

Finally!

His lips were soft and warm, pleasantly responsive. Moist. Ready. The heavy five o'clock shadow around his mouth abraded her lips and chin. Everlee didn't care but dominated the move. Her nose filled with the delicious up-close and personal all-male scents of his skin: sweat, smoke, and spicy aftershave. Not cigarette smoke, but the smells of ash and soot and open flames from the disaster that had darned near claimed Shane's life today. Maybe he wasn't the chain-smoker she'd previously suspected. She hadn't seen him smoke yet. Not like she cared at the moment. Not when a groan broke free from deep inside his throat and vibrated up into her mouth. Or was that a purr?

Not when Shane took hold of her jaw between both hands and cocked her head for better access to her mouth, either. Nor when his lips locked onto hers, like two moving puzzle pieces suddenly joined. He didn't jerk away, nor did he grab her hands to hold her still. That freedom of choice was all the encouragement Everlee needed. Sliding her fingers carefully around the back of his head, avoiding his burned neck, not manhandling him too much. Not wanting to hurt him, but needing to be crystal clear that—

Jiminy Christmas, yes! She wanted this man, and he wanted her. Her. Not the devious bimbo in the bathroom who killed men and babies. Just her—just boring Everlee Yeager—the woman most men avoided.

The shower was still running.

Shane pulled her tight into him, until her breasts were flat against his broad chest. Everlee thrilled at the tingling sensation of her nipples turning hard. He wanted more? Well, good, because she had a helluva lot more to give. There was so much more to her than just her rank. So much more she needed; so much more she had to give. She was freaking tired of the double standard that branded female officers. She'd worked damned hard to get where she was. Hadn't once slept her way to the top like the rumors declared. Didn't have the time, not with her stinkin' disability. If anything, because of her ADHD, she'd had to work too hard, harder than anyone else to get where she was today. And she wasn't a slut. Either he wanted her for who she was or he didn't. Everlee needed to know.

She licked the seam of his mouth, and Shane opened for her. That was all the answer Everlee needed. He thought that closet full of weaponry was heaven? Uh-uh. He was. This man. Them tasting each other and breathing each other's air. Her luxuriating in the hard, swift stroke of his tongue sliding inside her mouth, tangling with her tongue. Over and under. Around.

The shower was still running.

Needing friction in another part of her anatomy, she rubbed her knees together. His hands were now firm on both sides of her head, holding her still. His long fingers were in her hair, his thumbs on her cheekbones. Shane had taken control, and he was making a growling feast of her mouth. Jiminy Christmas , one kiss wasn't going to be enough. Not even this warm, wet kiss that was making her feel alive. For once in her life, Everlee wanted all of this man. He could be her safe place to land. Maybe the promise of forever. Was that asking too much?

Maybe. Ever since she'd first seen him, he'd been wound tight and about to explode. With every fluttering beat of her wild, impulsive heart, she wanted that passionate explosion to be with her, inside her. When the sensual exploration of mouths and fingertips led to palms smoothing over clothed, forbidden body parts, Everlee's fingers strayed into his hair and scalp. She'd expected prickles, but she found soft waves. Once combed back, those silky strands now fell over his forehead. She brushed them back, loving the warmth of his scalp on her palm and the slide of his silky hair between her fingers.

A rumbling moan escaped his throat. Swiftly, his hands slid down her neck to her shoulders, then to her biceps. One hand slipped around to the small of her back, pulling her in tighter against him, the other slipped under her shirt and—

"Yes-s-s-s-s," she hissed at the startling sensations his callused palm over her warm sensitive skin created. He was touching her. Kneading her breast. Strumming her nipple. Flicking the tender, begging tip of it. Making it sing.

The muscles in her core clenched and cried for his fingers. His mouth.

She lost track of the damned shower.

But oh, the problems this sizzling connection would create back at TEAM HQ. Everlee knew that but she couldn't make herself say no or step away. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Finally she and Shane were skin against skin, and she was going up in flames. Please, please, please. More of his mouth and his air and this once in a lifetime moment of pleasure and—

Enough thinking! She grabbed hold of his belt and unbuckled it to make room for her hand. He growled something when she unbuttoned his jeans and slipped one hand inside. No way was she stopping. Not holding back either. Not anymore. Not now. Deftly, she maneuvered past the elastic band of his jockeys and through a forest of thick, curled hairs and—

Yes. Greedily, her fingers circled a quivering spike that had to be the largest cock she'd ever touched. Her heart thudded up her throat at the daring danger in this plan. Just when her brain kicked back into thinking mode, Shane's hand slid from under her shirt to her ass. He lifted her against him as if she didn't weigh anything, then pushed her back against the vault. Certainly better than the table.

"Hurry," she growled, her fingers pumping eagerly down, then up, then down, again and again.

"Birth control?" he mumbled against her kiss swollen lips.

"Covered," she answered frantically. "Don't stop."

Everlee didn't remember how Shane got her pants down and off her legs, or her feet out of her boots. Or if he was still a weaponized gunslinger, still armed, still packing all that heat. That delectable other heat.

By then, her bare legs were wrapped tight around his hips. She didn't feel any holsters, so somehow, he'd divested himself of his weaponry. His jeans were around his knees. The stiffer hair on his thighs prickled her tender backside. His hips had her pinned to the wall, and they were close, so close to takeoff.

"You're beautiful, Ev," he whispered into her temple, one long elegant finger now slipped inside her slick folds, and—

"Ahhh," she huffed at the warm, wet sensation of that single curled digit stroking where he obviously knew it'd do the most good. Against the feminine ridges created for mutual, maximum pleasure, his and hers if he kept that up. Her body arched into his, begging for more.

"Flattery later, big guy," she whispered huskily, opening her legs wider and grinding her core against his hand. "Action now. I want action."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, and with one hearty thrust forward—

Jiminy Chrissssstmasssss! Shane slipped deep inside, to the hilt, all the way. They were pelvic bone to pelvic bone, and he was right where she wanted him. Needed him. He was big. Thicker than she'd expected. And he was in deeper. Talk about hung. This guy was a stallion and Butch was a Lilliputian. Ha! The contrast nearly made her laugh.

Instead, she hissed as waves of exquisite pleasure pounded through her blood and stole her breath. Automatically, her hips gyrated to accommodate his impressive girth. Everlee groaned as the massive thing she'd just welcomed home slipped in and out with quick, slick heat and focused vigor. And in again. So far in that she was sure he was hitting her tonsils. Her head thrashed from side to side as she stretched. Her breasts were on fire, aching for his hands. Ah! They'd have to wait. She growled again, her heart thumping like a beast as she held onto Shane for what was fast turning into the ride of her life.

"You okay?" he breathed in her hair, still pumping with sure, long strokes, still holding onto her ass as he pounded her into the wall.

"Yes-s-s-s-s," she hissed again, her eyes tightly closed, her fingernails dug onto his taut, muscled backside, urging him to be quick about this quickie.

Not like Shane needed encouragement. He'd set a good hard rhythm and was hitting all the right spots. Oh, man, was he nailing it, err, her. But they really couldn't get caught having sex like this. Not in whoever's house this was. Oh, yeah, Smoke's. Everlee couldn't even hear the shower, only the buzz in her body. Was the water still running?

What was she thinking?!

At the moment? Of nothing and no one but Shane. The work roughened coarseness of his palm on her ass. His hot and heavy breath in her ear. The overheated, very masculine muscle coursing deep inside of her.

She'd never been half-dressed nor driven crazy like this before. Not once in her mixed-up youth. Had never been with a man like Shane, either. He was gentle but rough and wild at the same time. Wild, like her. He was kind, but damned decisive once he made his mind up. And strong. So strong. Everlee melted into indescribable pleasure of him holding all of her weight. Its slick incline deep in her core flashed urgently, then morphed into a racing tsunami. And she came. On an orgasm that crested high, so high, she was tossed into a mix of radiant starlight, tinged slightly with lead agent torment.

The torment fled when a cataclysmic explosion of pleasure took over. Shook her down to her wanton core. Her body stiffened under the engulfing onslaught from the powerful man joined with her. His legs had turned into obedient pistons that seemed to never tire. Her legs clenched into a manacle around Shane's hips. She didn't want to hurt him, but she'd never felt anything like this before. Not once.

Her legs had turned into vises, gripping him while more waves of pure pleasure zipped through her like another lit fuse. Its detonation came just as swiftly as the first and tossed her higher, blinded and blessed, into a second, brighter universe of never before seen stars. Real stars. Real pleasure. She was fireworks. She was stardust.

So this was that elusive beast called Orgasm. Twice in a row. Damn.

"Do it again," she ordered, her voice as raspy and ragged as shit.

Shane's pounding turned fiercer. Harder. Within seconds, he groaned a hearty, "Fuck!" His entire body stiffened. His hips and his thighs and his knees. His release kicked loose and Everlee felt its unique, scalding heat pulsing inside of her. For the first time in her life, she wished she weren't on birth control. That they weren't wasting the essence that might've become a child. Their child. A dark-haired, smiling little son with sparkling blue, mischief-filled eyes. Or a daughter. A blue-eyed daughter would be just as good. Make that perfect.

What a foolish thought! Where had it even come from?

Everlee wasn't good enough to be a wife, never a mother.

Stupid damned tears!

Shane stilled, and they were both panting like draft horses after a tractor pull, or something like that. Draft horses pulled tractors, didn't they? Maybe racehorses would have been a better analogy.

They were still at the same wall. Her back against it. His breath hot and heavy on her neck. Their clothes were undone enough, yet not nearly enough. Both were slick with sweat. Sated? Momentarily, yes. But explaining the scent in the air and their current state of dishevel would be a challenge. Not like Everlee cared what Ms. Smart thought.

Shane took her mouth in an all-encompassing, gentle kiss that prickled her skin while it stole the last of Everlee's heart. He ran his nose down her neck to the top of her breast and kissed her there, too. "I want a real date," he whispered against her sensitive skin. "A real, sit down to dinner date. No one but us. Clothes are optional."

"Towel, now," she deflected shakily, which made Shane grin.

"You're so bossy," he teased as he drew close for another kiss, this one on the top of her nose. "I love that most about you, LT."

Love? Did he say the L word? Already?

"Shut up and hurry!" she clipped, shushing him to step on it before—

The blow dryer revved on in the bathroom. Oh crap!

Their heads pivoted to the still closed door, the only barrier between them and Ms. Smart.

The spell was broken. Like a lightning strike, the logic card in Everlee's impulsive brain cycled back online . The damned thing. Along with it came the corrective zap of what would be a well-deserved reprimand from the Energizer Bunny called Alex, reminding her that a true hardass owned The TEAM. And her. What would he say if he knew what they were doing now? That they were this kind of distracted while on a mission? That they weren't even thinking about their jobs—or him? At all? Tonight, of all nights? Here, of all places?

Oh, damn.

Just as fast, a rugged blast of ice-cold censure slapped the front of her cerebral cortex and shut down her impetuous plans for the handsome man worming his way back inside her arms. Initially, Shane had let her assume command of this mission, probably because he was a newbie of only two days. Anyone would have done that. But he was in control now, and as much as Everlee wanted more time with him at the wheel, she was about to wrest that control back. Now was not the time and this was not the place. She never should've led him on.

"Shane," she murmured around the warm, wet suction of his tempting lips.

His answering, "Hmmm" vibrated against her mouth like a sexy complaint.

Man, it was hard to think. She tried again, this time with, "Tuesday."

The tender onslaught ceased. Yeah, that was the perfect mood-buster.

"I know, I know," he agreed hoarsely, still licking her lips, still breathing her air, and holding on tight to her partially clad body. "But understand, Agent Yeager. I've wanted to make love with you since we met. We will be doing this again soon."

"You did?" A breathy sigh of satisfaction huffed out of Everlee. Knowing Shane was on board with the attraction between them was enough. It had to be. For now.

Clearing her throat, she pressed a gentle palm to the center of his magnificent chest. Man, he ought to have a likeness of that chest sculpted in marble. She wished they'd done this right, with him naked. On his back. What a waste that she hadn't gotten to see him, all of him. She felt cheated.

But later. Yeah, that piece of eye candy would have to wait. Everlee pushed him away, trying to gently remind him who they were and why they were in Smoke's storm cellar. Setting a boundary she knew she'd destroy the first chance she could.

Shane eased out of her body with a sweet, grumbly growl and set her feet back on the floor. Everlee found him staring down at her. Like a schoolgirl in love, she was smitten all over again. They were so close, still in each other's arms, yet suddenly, too far away. For the first time in her life, she found herself looking up at a man she respected and could actually see herself living with. A man she could live for. Maybe even die for.

The tenderness in his eyes shone down on her like a full moon setting over the Pacific, blessing her with comfort and tenderness and, okay, yeah, lots of sex and steamy hot romance. A storm of tender emotions was hidden there. Shane was a gunslinger at heart, but what a heart. He didn't want to let her go any more than she wanted to let go of him. His fingers were still tight, only they'd drifted to her waist. His gaze was steady, as if he'd found something he wasn't willing to lose.

"I shouldn't have done that," she admitted meekly. "I know better."

Lifting his hand, he smoothed it over her head, ending with his palm cupping her cheek. "I'm so damned glad you took the first step."

Everlee leaned into the strength of that warm hand and those strong, capable fingers. "Yeah, well, already told you I have no impulse control. Ask Alex. He'll confirm it."

A smile lifted the corners of Shane's mouth. "Alex isn't here and I wouldn't ask him if he were."

The hum of the blow dryer cut off, and Everlee shoved the man she was beginning to have serious feelings for, away. Sort of. Needing one last touch before he got too far away, she traced her fingertips along his square, whiskered jaw, and said "We'd better clean up and get dressed. I'll check under the sink. Maybe there's a can of air deodorizer down there."

"Don't move. Stay here," Shane said as he pulled himself together, buckled his belt, tucked his shirt in, and went to the kitchen. He doused a handful of paper towels under the faucet, then checked beneath the sink, and grabbed an aerosol can of lilac-something or other. He came straight back to Everlee, dropped to one knee in front of her, and signaled her to put her foot on his other thigh. He was so kind. So incredibly thoughtful. It was so out of character with every other male she'd ever known. She could have cried when he wiped between her legs and helped her get dressed and decent again. Yeah, he was one in a million. A trained sniper and a heartthrob.

"We should report in now that we're at Smoke's," she told him quietly, her hands on his shoulders while he slipped her feet into her boots. Everything he did, he was doing for her. She had no one to compare him with.

With a soft grunt, Shane lifted to his feet and tossed the used paper towels into the trash. Instead of letting Everlee go and pretending nothing had just happened between them, his hand slid around her wrist. With a quick tug, she was back against his chest, and he was pressing a warm, wet kiss to the center of her forehead. "God bless your lack of impulse control," he whispered. "Don't ever change, Ev. You're perfect just the way you are."

She wanted to spend more time savoring the sweet sentiments coming from this warrior. She could have stood there until she'd breathed every last molecule of him into her heart for safekeeping. Gallant moments like this one never happened to someone like her, mainly because most men steered clear of strong, capable women. They didn't want to compete, and they resented female authority. She'd worked with enough airmen over the years to know most of them had talked behind her back. They'd all seemed to honestly believe the only way she could've been promoted was on her back, by literally kissing ass. Untrue, but still wildly proliferated. If any one of them had truly taken the time to get to know her, they'd have laughed at the idea that she was that desperate for the next rank. Damned crybabies. But that was reality. Double standards were alive and well, even in this so-called ‘enlightened' age of women's lib and ‘alleged' social equality.

The bathroom doorknob turned. The door opened. A fragrant cloudy fog of steam announced Ms. Smart's re-entry into their private moment. Damn, she was back. Her long, blonde hair was clean and dry, sleek and shiny and curled just right. And she was smiling. At Shane. Of course.

Everlee took a full step out of his comfort zone, put her hands on her hips and glared at the cold-blooded baby-killer once again in their midst. She stabbed her finger at the four-person dinette between Smoke's formidable weapons stash and the countertop that passed for a kitchen, and ordered, "Sit down. First, we'll eat, then we'll hit the sack."

"I'll take the couch," Shane offered.

"Fine." Everlee's gaze was still fixed on their prisoner. "Shane'll keep guard, Smart, so don't try anything. You get the bunk to the left, I'll take the right. It's closer to the door. No funny business, understood?"

"And then you'll cuff me to the metal headboard, right?" Damned if Smart didn't look like a high school cheerleader. Double damned if there wasn't a glint of compassion—or something—in Shane's eyes. That had to stop.

"Right," Everlee snapped, mad at herself and the gullible male beside her. "We have a long day's drive tomorrow. Might not stop between here and DC, and—"

Damn it! Everlee was so sick of this woman's poor, innocent me routine. Looked like Shane was falling for it. "Never mind. Let's just eat."