AWOL with the Operative (12 page)

She was moaning with pleasure long before he intensified his kiss with a fierceness so vital it seemed to reach her deepest emotions, lifting them to heights beyond her description. Those emotions so occupied her that Eve was never conscious of just when and how he removed the blanket from around her, unclasped her bra and cast it aside.

Awareness returned to her in a rush only when, drawing back from her, his gaze molten, he uttered a slow, husky “They’re beautiful, sweetheart. Your breasts are as beautiful as the rest of you. They make me want to—”

“What, Sam? Show me what you want to do with them,” she whispered, shocked by her boldness.

Or maybe not. Maybe in this moment
shocked
wasn’t in her vocabulary. Not when, obeying her invitation, he didn’t hesitate to take possession of her breasts, his big hands cupping their fullness, thumbs stroking her tender flesh. His mouth followed, accompanied by his low groans as he tasted and teased her nipples, in turn, until they were hard buds of pure yearning.

“No more,” she pleaded, unable to endure the torment he was inflicting on her.

“It’s not enough,” he said harshly, lifting his face from her swollen breasts. “Not nearly enough.”

Clasping her hands, he carried them to his chest where he treated her to another form of torture. And himself, as well, if the sound of him sharply sucking in his breath was any indication as she flattened her palms against slabs of hard muscle, her fingers sifting through his chest hair, following the trail down to a quivering stomach and beyond to—

She paused in sudden wonder. When had he shoved aside the rest of his blanket to complete the exposure of his fully naked body in all its raw, riveting masculinity? A sight at whose center proudly rose his arousal. Unable to resist the temptation, Eve’s hand closed around the hot, throbbing shaft that was both steel and silk.

“Now, Sam? Is
now
enough?”

“Sweet heaven,” he gasped, “you’re killing me.”

“Then show me what dying is.”

He obliged her by pressing her down against her mattress, which he now shared, by swiftly removing her panties to bury his face between her parted thighs. Before she could object, or wanted to object, that expert tongue of his was busy again, probing the core of her being.

Clutching his head, she dug her fingers into his scalp when he centered his attention on her wet nub, working his magic until she was lost in a frenzy of passion. A passion so strong he had to grip her squirming hips to prevent her from escaping his focus. He gave her no relief, lifting her steadily, relentlessly to a peak of such giddy joy she lost all control, surrendering herself in the end with whimpers and little cries to wave after wave of blissful release.

He owned her now. She was his. It’s what Eve felt as she sank back to earth. That and, along with it, the belief she’d be permitted an interval of recovery. She was mistaken. Sam wasn’t ready to allow either her or himself any moment of rest.

Puzzled, she watched him move quickly and with purpose away from her on hands and knees, affording her a view of a nude, supremely sexy backside.

“Sam, what are you—?”

“Shh,” he hushed her.

Reaching one of the chairs over which he had earlier draped his clothing, he snagged the coat down, fumbled in one of its pockets and removed something she wasn’t able to identify in the weak light of the fire. Not, anyway, until he returned to the mattress.

“Courtesy of Ken Redfeather,” he said, holding out a foil-wrapped condom to her.

And just when, she wondered, had he discovered this particular treasure? He gave her no chance to question him about it. Grinning, all he would confess was a fast “There are others in that pocket—a nice supply of them.”

“I take it we’re not through here then?”

“Not unless you want us to be.”

“I wouldn’t do that to either of us, Sam,” she said, accepting the packet he pressed on her after he tore it open.

“You do the honors.”

There was no mistaking his invitation. He wanted her to sheathe him, an action that her limited experience hadn’t prepared her for. His fully evident erection was all the assistance he was willing to provide her.

And, as it turned out, all she needed to convince her of the power of her womanhood was when he trembled visibly as she removed the condom and slowly rolled it down over his pulsing column of rigid flesh.

“You’re destroying me again,” he accused her.

Maybe so, but it didn’t prevent him from taking over after that. Establishing his own male power, his hands urging her down again on the mattress, he lifted himself above her, nudged her legs open with his knee and lowered himself on her flushed body.

Too plainly wanting her by now to sacrifice even a moment of delay, he gave her no chance to accept him before guiding himself to the entrance he sought. Eve made every effort to accommodate him, spreading her legs, lifting her hips to receive the tip of his erection that slowly, steadily parted the folds of the slick, quivering flesh that waited for him so impatiently.

She must have somehow silently communicated her readiness to welcome him, because with one strong thrust that had her gasping, he plunged his length deep inside her. Only then did he pause to allow her to adjust to him. To relish the incredible sensation of his body joined with hers.

In that sweet interval he began to kiss her again, his open mouth demonstrating his intense passion, tongue delving into her mouth to capture her own tongue in a duel of pure, potent sensation.

In the end, the shared urgency of a lower, more demanding region of their locked bodies would no longer deny either of them the fury that followed. Sam’s long strokes which, with her legs and arms wrapped about him she strove to match with her own rhythms, were dynamic. They were accompanied by his murmured endearments and wild kisses that she answered with her hands and mouth on every portion of his sleek flesh that she could reach.

Surging against each other, both of them beyond control now, she felt the first spasms break over her, sweeping her into the flood that carried her away.

She was just surfacing when Sam was seized by his own climax and a dark, muttered claim that she had drowned him. If so, he went with a smile and a sigh of satisfaction as he sank against her.

When he stirred again, it was with a concerned “I’m too heavy for you.”

Before she could assure him he wasn’t, that she wanted him to remain exactly where he was, he rolled away from her on his side.

“Turn over. No, the other direction,” he instructed her when she started to face him. She did as he asked, her back to him. “There, that’s better. Just right.”

He squeezed against her, his arms sliding around her waist to lock her in his protective embrace. Yes, this
was
just right, their bodies spooned together so snugly she could feel his breath stirring in her hair. Could hear his whisper in her ear.

“What just happened…that was fantastic.
You’re
fantastic.”

“Without a memory,” she murmured, “how can you compare?”

“I know. On some level way down inside me, I know. Here—” Removing one of his hands from her waist, he reached for a blanket, drawing it over them, sealing them in a warm, safe cocoon.

She listened to the soft sputtering of the fire, felt him relax against her and knew from his even breathing that he had drifted off. Eve wasn’t ready to sleep.

In the long minutes that followed, she wanted nothing more than to remain peacefully suspended in the pleasure this remarkable man had given her. She didn’t want to think about any negatives, but they came crowding in on her anyway, demanding her attention.

Somewhere in the wilderness outside this cabin was the threat of the enemy hunting for them. The wind that still howled under the eaves reminded her of that. It should have been her chief concern. It wasn’t. It was Sam who worried her. How would he feel about her when his memory returned? How fantastic would he think she was then?

And how would she feel about him? How did she feel about him
now?
Vulnerable, that’s how she felt. Fearing that, if she tried to get in touch with her emotions,
honestly
tried, she could be laying herself open to some serious hurt.

Did she regret their lovemaking? It had occurred to her before she had given herself to him so freely that she might. No, she decided. Whatever happened after tonight, she had no regrets for what they had so wonderfully shared. Not a single one.

Then why was she so scared?

Chapter 6

S
am wondered if he had ever been in the service. Maybe that’s why the voice rousing him from his pleasant state of sleep reminded him of a tough drill sergeant, demanding that he get out of bed.

“Come on, Sam, it’s time for you to be up.”

Naw, couldn’t be a drill sergeant. This voice, insistent though it was, had the velvet tone of a woman. Opening one eye, he checked to make certain of that. Yep, the figure bending over him was definitely female, and a mighty alluring one at that.

“You’re dressed already,” he said.

“I have been for quite a while,” Eve informed him.

“What time is—” He didn’t finish his question. Having propped himself up on one elbow, he realized there was no need for him to ask. Gray daylight framing the cabin windows told him it was morning. “My God, we must have slept the clock around!”

“And then some. We probably needed it.”

From the way she was hovering over him so expectantly, Sam guessed there was going to be no early morning, drowsy snuggling followed by another session of lovemaking. Damn!

“What have you been doing?”

“Keeping busy.”

She began to hand him his clothes, garment by garment, her intention clear. She wanted him to get into them. At least they were thoroughly dry by now. Thanks to her. Hell, she must have been keeping the fire going right through the night.

The fire!

Damning himself for his negligence, he swiveled his gaze in the direction of the fireplace where smoke from the burning logs was being drawn up the chimney.

“Eve, no. We have to put it out. No fire, not in daylight. The smoke could be seen for miles.”

“Sam, I didn’t overlook that problem. But it’s not. A problem, that is. You know how crazy April can be.”

“Angel, what are you talking about?”

“The weather. The snow and wind quit sometime in the night, probably hours ago. And after that the temperature had to have climbed. Climbed a lot, because right now there’s nothing out there but a very thick fog.”

He understood then what she was telling him. The fog was swallowing their smoke, blending it into the gray mass that must have blanketed the entire area. But Sam wouldn’t be satisfied until he saw it for himself.

Surging to his feet, hopping from one foot to the other as he struggled first into his briefs and then his pants, he worked his way to the nearest window. She was right. The fog was so heavy it shrouded the lake below from sight, cloaked the cabin, concealing it and any smoke from both the ground and the air above.

“We’re all right then,” he said, turning from the window.

“But at the first sign of the fog lifting—”

“We extinguish the fire.”

Able to relax his guard, at least for the moment, he became aware of the aroma of brewing coffee. The smell of it was so irresistible Sam was ready to forgive her for being dressed when he’d wanted her to be naked and close beside him on the mattress.

“Coffee?” he wondered. “Actual coffee?”

“Much more than that,” she said, her tone registering her excitement. “We won’t have to exist on crackers.”

The promise of food in any form was also an enticement. But first he had something more important to take care of.

Fully dressed now and coat in hand, he headed for the back door and that privy he had spotted last evening. Eve must have already visited the place. Once outside and bundling into his coat, he could see her tracks in the snow.

It wasn’t until he came away from the privy that Sam made himself fully aware of the weather. The dense fog was in their favor. If the enemy was aloft again in that chopper, they wouldn’t be able to spot anything below them.

That wasn’t the only good sign. The air was so mild he could swear the snowdrifts were already drooping. A total change from yesterday. It was no guarantee the temperature would continue to climb. As Eve had pointed out, April was a month that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. But maybe…

Not wanting to jinx his hope for a quick thaw that might aid them in getting away, he didn’t finish the thought.

Eve was in the kitchen stirring a pot of something on the woodstove when he returned to the cabin. She looked as cheerful as if she’d realized that ambition of hers to be a chef.

That she’d managed to build a fire in the stove and had a basin of water waiting for him on the dry sink, evidence she also had melted a quantity of snow, had him feeling guilty. Just how long had she been up and about without him? he wondered, sliding the chair back under the knob of the damaged back door.