High Octane Heroes (14 page)

He’d spotted her in his scope an hour ago. Her cheeks flushed to a lovely pink from effort, and likely fury, as she used sleek arms and agile feet to weave through the festive crowd below. His cock had jumped when he’d watched her pouty mouth purse and thin as she worked her way toward him. As she came for him.

Primed as her body was for a fight, he’d enjoy pushing her to her limits, preparing her body for his. From anger. To frustration. To lust. Unethical to the max, especially given the reason she was here, but fuck if he cared. For too long Donovan had watched through the distance of his scope, tempted by her fierce nature, innate skill, and a body made for his indulgence. Even now, as she waited for him to move, acknowledge her presence, say something, he played her.

As leader of the SRT, he’d read every report of her negotiations since she’d started with the DPD. For the safety of his men he needed to know their negotiator was competent.

Time after time she’d impressed him with her calm authority in extreme stress situations. When others would have thrown in the towel, she hunkered down with bared teeth or kisses, whichever the situation called for, to peacefully resolve the entanglement of madness, weapons and innocent lives. And though no negotiator liked to relinquish control and call for force, she executed the call without hesitation when necessary.

Regardless of all her ability in the field, he’d break her tonight. In the sweetest fashion, he’d make her come under him in every way possible.

The sound of quiet footsteps signaled triumph. After several minutes of stillness, save for the wind, she walked toward him. On a breeze came the smell of her: coffee, Dial soap and sex. He inhaled and held her inside him for as long as he could stand
before letting her go. A high, similar to the one he felt after running a marathon, hit hard in his chest and spread throughout his limbs. A groan of satisfaction left his throat.

Paige’s reciprocating gasp echoed in his ears and stroked the length of his dick, increasing the pressure against his fatigues.

The group he’d been surveying finally dissipated five minutes later, and he eased to his full height, bringing his weapon off the ledge. Turning his back to her, Donovan walked one step to his bag and began disassembling the SR-90. He figured she’d stay planted where he’d left her, but the sight of gray boots made him smile behind his nylon veil. He laid the Robar down and stroked an ungloved hand down the barrel, his customary show of appreciation for the weapon which had allowed him to save many by taking a few. Her foot twitched like she wanted to kick the gun out of her way and snatch him up by the throat. His smile grew.

In a flash, he was up. Not face-to-face, but chest to the air above her head. He towered over her, leaning into her space. He crowded the air she consumed in a gasp. Her clear blue eyes narrowed to slits as she arched her neck and tried to cover shock with a defiant gaze. Donovan wanted her to retreat one step, so he could advance on her, but her boots stuck to the tar. Challenge upon challenge, she prolonged his amusement.

Her lips parted, the top one curling in a near snarl. “Why would you fuck me like that?”

Even to himself, his voice sounded as though he’d swallowed gravel when he drawled, “How exactly did I fuck you?”

Those plump lips became a mashed line between her teeth, when she, no doubt, realized her error in word choice. Her hair caressed her back and chest as she shook off the implication of his tone or maybe the annoyance he fueled inside her. “You
know exactly why I’m here, and I’m not leaving until I get an explanation. You’re trying to railroad my career, and I won’t allow it.”

“Did you come?” he said slowly.

She took a step back. “What?” she asked, her voice pitching high at the end of the word.

“You said I fucked you.”

After a silent moment she surged toward him. “I’ve been through boot camp, hell week, FBI training and a shitty marriage. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than dirty talk to intimidate me. So, cut the crap.”

“Did you come?”

“This morning in the shower, but it had nothing to do with you.” A confident smirk played over her lips.

He canted his head. “Then I didn’t fuck you. If I had, you’d have come again and again, and this morning in the shower you would have been thinking of me on top of you, inside you, filling you, pushing you.”

Her smirk fell, and her expression gaped. He watched as her eyes searched his, as her mind tried to calculate the situation and decide upon the best way to handle him.

Using the moment he’d built, Donovan stepped over his bag.

Given the option of being pushed over by his chest or retreat, she chose to step back. Two steps of his and four on her part had her ass against the ledge. Startled, her eyes flew left and right, taking in the glittery skyline. Her head tilted down as she assessed the fall, and then her eyes scanned the rooftop looking for a way out.

He snagged her attention. “Paige, do you want to know why I want you under me?”

Again her eyes searched, but this examination was internal. While he waited for her response, his gaze scoured her head to
toe. Her wet lips, heaving breasts, braced legs all begged for him.

After a time her glance locked with his. “Yes,” she said just above a whisper.

He took a step closer, his hips crowding her against the ledge. “Contrary to what you believe, I want you under me, with the SRT, because it will save lives. With the commander as a go-between for you, the negotiator, and me, the force team leader, there’s too much lag time in critical situations. It provides too much air and opportunity for things to go wrong. Miscommunication. Errors. Deaths of hostages, my men, you.

“You like to go face-to-face with these crazy fucks, which works most of the time. But what happens when it doesn’t? I’m not hooked in your ear. The commander is. I need to be in the room, in your ear, in your head.

“Come under me. We’ll work together. You’ll like it.” He emphasized his last point by grinding his hips against her.

A deep belly laugh rolled out her mouth and her lips curved high. “Men. You’re either threatened by us or in awe of us. The threatened ones want to control and the awed ones want to watch. You’re no different, soldier. You hate that I call the shots at a scene and see an opportunity to change that. Well, I have oodles more training in psych and for negotiations than you, and you won’t issue orders to me.”

Yes, he would, and she’d follow them.

Donovan planted a palm on either side of the ledge, pinning her in place. Her hands didn’t come up to shove him away, which he took as consent. Slowly, he leaned in, passing her lips by a whisper as he moved to her ear. Just below her lobe he bit lightly into her neck and felt the dull thud of her escalating heartbeats. The balaclava’s fabric created a protective barrier, and then friction, as he slowly scraped his teeth down her
neck, over her collarbone, across her breast to her nipple.

When he bit down through the layers of fabric, she moaned and arched her slender torso against his mouth. Finding it already engorged, he slipped her nipple farther between his teeth, bit down and pulled, sliding the tender flesh through his bite from base to tip, time and again.

When she panted frantically, he stood. “Unbutton your shirt,” he ordered in a bark.

Her eyes searched his for the briefest of seconds. “I don’t know what you think this is going to prove.”

“Maybe nothing. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want it.” He jerked his chin toward her chest. “Unbutton it.”

Two petite, shaky hands moved to the top button of her shirt. One by one she unfastened the buttons, steadier hands moving faster at the end. Her lips pursed in a stubborn pout. “What now?”

“Less lip. Take it off.”

“You’re a sonovabitch, Wolfe.” But her shirt parted over a sheer blue bra, cupping small round breasts with aroused centers.

“And the bra,” he said more hoarsely this time than he would have liked.

Instantly, her hands went to the clasp at her back. Two breasts extended toward him from the effort, and he greeted them with his covered mouth.

Before long she moaned deep and the begging request slipped from her lips. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, pausing above her chafed breasts.

“More,” she breathed, the word a desperate plea.

He left her breasts and traveled up to her ear. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

She moaned and ground her pussy against his leg. She tried
to hide her face in his neck when she whispered, “I want—”

He pulled back and pinned her with a steely gaze. “Go on.”

She swallowed hard, but met his hard gaze with one of her own, still defiant despite the fact he’d pushed her to bare herself. “I want you to fuck me. I want to be under you—here at least. Now.”

Now,
he
begged. “More.”

Her eyes closed for a moment, then flashed open, a hint of vulnerability in their moist depths. “I want your mouth on me. You, inside me. I want you to pound me with everything you’ve got and make me scream so loud when I come that all of Detroit hears my excitement.”

His breath came in short strained gusts. He’d asked for this. Dreamed of this, and she was giving him exactly what he wanted. With a quick move, he filled his hands with her buttcheeks, locked their cores together and laid her back on the ledge. Her legs wrapped tight around his torso and dug into his muscled back and cheeks. Before him, she lay bare-breasted, a marvelous painting set against the blackness of the sky and shimmer of city lights.

She rode him through the layers of his clothing as he slid his hands up her body. The first skin-to skin-contact, his hand to her belly, sent a thrill up his arms. Her smooth skin stretched under his calloused hand. He circled her chest, strumming over her erect tips again and again as her breathing became labored, and her legs clamped him harder in time with her undulating thrusts against his clothed erection.

A moaning cry pierced the night sky. “Oh yes!”

She rode it out, mewing and bucking against his throbbing penis. While she calmed, he traced her lips, the object of many fantasies, with his thumb. When her breathing quieted, she lapped her tongue at his finger. She caught it on the third lap
between her teeth and sucked hard, pulling him in to the base and working it with her mouth.

When she released it, he demanded, voice rough as ground rock, “More.”

She nodded and dropped her legs from his waist. He stepped back while she edged off the ledge to drop to her knees.

Donovan’s head lolled back at the jerk of his zipper, and he grinned like the fucking Cheshire cat. Perfection. She knew to leave his buckle fastened so his sidearm, knife and ammo stayed put.

Paige’s hands were warm as she released him from his pants, and her mouth was hotter still. Slick wet suction welcomed his cock from tip to damn near base as she immediately relaxed her throat and allowed him in deep. With the same enthusiasm with which she’d ridden home her orgasm, she pumped the length and girth of him. The sounds of slurping and moist suction filled his ears. Her hands cupped the sensitive skin of his testicles, massaged and pulled, while her head bobbed.

Tension soon tingled heavy in his balls, rushed up his shaft and released his own climax. Moaning while he groaned, she coveted all he tried to deny her with greedy pulls and gulps.

She stood, gaze raised, but not submitting, and smiled like a devil triumphing over a tempted sinner. Slowly, she licked her smiling lips.

Incited by her smirk, he wound a hand in her blonde locks, and with his body shoved her back against the building’s edge. His mouth teased hers, and she licked at him through the balaclava. She bit down on his lip and pulled until she had only material between clamped pearlies, and then yanked aside the material, revealing his mouth.

His eyes clamped shut in ecstasy when their tongues mated. Sweeter than ice cream; with a bite of his own on her lips, he
was lost. Spiraled out of control. Driven to the edge. His hands moved to her pants and yanked them down with a frantic movement. Her boots sailed off with a flick of his wrist, and then her gauzy panties and jeans followed. Spreading her ankles wide, he dove down for her core, dying to taste her, to lap up her wetness and invade her with some part of him. Any and every part of him.

Donovan hitched her thighs over his wide shoulders and speared her silken channel with his tongue. Her wetness coated him and filled his mouth with the taste of her. The need for more drove him to withdraw and stroke inward again. His hair was pulled as her hands grasped the covering on his head, but he refused the distraction. Instead, he used his lips to pull on her rosy, swollen clit.

In response, she worked her hips against his face, using her heels against his back for leverage.

Rising, he gripped her asscheeks, arranged her wide open and rubbed his dick from puckered bottom to pointed top, over and over, leaving no part of her intimate skin untouched.

The length of his cock became solid as a rock when she yelled across the city again, calling out to him. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

He repositioned her legs around his hips. Their sexes met. Slick on slick, and there was no waiting. Donovan’s hips pushed forward. He slid into her, head to base in a single thrust that left him gasping for air. She fit him like a second skin. A hotter, wetter skin. He pulled out to the tip and rammed home again allowing his balls to smack the damp skin of her ass. Twice more he repeated the ritual, watching as their bodies separated and came together. On the third thrust, he stayed planted deep, enjoying the full contact. He leaned over the ledge, twined his hands in her hair and kissed her hard. Their lips collided,
and their tongues curled together in a seductive battle.

When he rose, she used her arms to crawl up his body. She latched on with small yet solid arms and legs and began to ride him wildly. Her breasts brushed against his vest. Her sex pumped up and down the length of his straining erection. Widening his stance, he joined in the rhythmic beating of their flesh, his arms throwing her hips into the air, and his cock enjoying gravity’s response.