Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2) (9 page)

He dug around in his bag at the foot of the bed for a moment.

“Ah-ha!”

He stood, a box in hand.

Condoms?

She hoped so, because she certainly hadn’t thought about bringing any, which was a huge oversight on her part.

He ripped the packaging open, and something crinkled.

Hannah swallowed and jammed the pillow under her head.

Mason tore what looked like a small packet open and dropped the wrapper. He examined the small ring in the moonlight, turning it this way and that before his hands disappeared in the shadow of his body. Her mind filled in the gaps, aided by the sound of latex stretching. Part of her wanted the lights on, to see him roll the condom on, but then that would mean the lights would be on. And he could see her. She wasn’t ready for that kind of vulnerability. In the dark she could pretend she knew what she was doing. In the light he’d know.

His gaze slid to hers and locked.

She stopped breathing.

Was there something she should do? Or say? Did he know?

Mason put one knee on the bed, then the other, crawling up the mattress. He kissed her shin, just above her knee, one thigh, the other hip, her stomach, all the way to her mouth. She clung to his shoulders, focusing on the kiss while his hands were between her legs.

Something bigger than his finger pressed against her. She dug her nails into his shoulders, holding her breath, bracing herself for the pain everyone talked about.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said between clenched teeth.

Sorry?

His fingers massaged her clit, eroding her defenses. Her body relaxed, she moaned and he pressed into her, a little at a time. His weight bore her down into the mattress. It was hard to breathe, but she liked it. Was that nuts?

Any moment it was going to hurt something bad. Would Mason realize what was going on?

He cupped her ass, tilting her pelvis and stilled.

He pulled back just a bit and pushed in, driving a slow, steady pace into her body while all she could do was cling to him and hold on for the ride. Deeper and deeper he worked his cock into her with a steady determination. He muttered incoherent words into her hair, stroked her clit and plucked her nipples, driving her into a mindless state where all she did was feel.

At long last he stilled, braced above her with an arm on either side of her shoulders, his pelvis pushing her into the mattress.

“You—okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, you feel good.” He flexed, grinding against her, their pelvises together.

Mason was inside her.

All of him?

She couldn’t imagine where the rest of him would be.

It didn’t actually hurt. She felt...full. That was a good word for it.

Was...that it? Were they done?

She’d been expecting a little more, not that it wasn’t great just...anticlimactic.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pushed a bit of hair off her face.

“Thank you. You too.”

You too? Seriously? Could she just crawl under the bed and die now? This would go down as the worst sex ever. She should have read a how to guide and not listened to Melissa’s “it will come naturally” talk.

He ducked his head and kissed her, suckling at her bottom lip into his mouth. He bit down gently. Her vaginal walls tensed.

“Hm, you like that?” he asked against her mouth.

“I guess I do?” Heat radiated from her cheeks.

“Mm.”

He kissed her again, while his lower body—moved inside of her. She gasped as a zing of electricity arced through her body from head to toe. He withdrew, only to thrust inside of her. Her toes curled and her eyes rolled back into her head.

They were
not
done.

Hannah clung to Mason’s shoulders, vaguely aware the sound that wouldn’t stop was her. A better woman might be able to do something, to move, but not her. The bed shook, thump-thump-thumping against the wall. He reached up and grasped the headboard, levering up, changing the angle.

“Oh!” She arched her back, lost in the tidal wave of sex and
ohmygodyesmoreplease
!

“Go on, Hannah, take it.”

The spiral of lust and desire came together in a cataclysmic burst of light behind her eyelids. She wailed, her body one pulsing nerve as Mason continued pumping into her, again and again, each thrust scooting her up the bed just a bit more. When she thought it couldn’t go on anymore—that she would die if he went on another second—he stilled, his cock still deep within her.

She panted, blinking up at the sheen of sweat covering Mason’s heaving chest. She was both exhausted and invigorated at once.

That was...that was...
wow
.

Mason released his death grip on the headboard and leaned down, kissing her gently. She felt his lips curl up into a smile.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” he asked.

The—what?

That was it? Done and over? No catching her breath?

“Oh, I can use the one in my room.”

“Cool.”

He kissed her again, his tongue stroking inside her mouth, his hands in her hair. Her head was still spinning when he pushed up and reached between them. She sucked in a breath when his fingers grazed her.

“Sorry. You’re really sensitive.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. Was that a bad thing?

“What? Why?” His face screwed up into something almost painful and he hissed.

She held her breath as his soft penis slid out of her.

“Why what?” she asked, head spinning.

Mason sat on the edge of the bed and cupped her cheek.

“Don’t be sorry. It just means I can get you off in all the ways.” He grinned, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing—or a very bad thing. “Hurry back, okay?”

He bent, kissing her forehead before standing and shuffling to the bathroom. She watched him go, not daring to breathe until he disappeared around the corner.

Hannah pushed up, her body protesting in all new ways, and swung her rubbery legs off the bed. She stood, and sat back down immediately, her knees not quite sturdy enough to hold her.

Wow.

Whatever she’d thought sex might be like—that was not it.

Her hands shook, and her fingers were a little cold.

Adrenaline. It made sense. She’d been amped up, focused on this one act.

The toilet flushed and the tap turned on.

She did not want to be sitting here when Mason came out, wearing nothing but vulnerability.

Hannah shoved to her feet and teetered to the open adjoining door and hauled her rolling, toiletry bag away from its post as the glorified doorstop. The door whooshed closed behind her, closing with a barely audible snick. Thank goodness for soft-close doors.

Her knees and hands shook all the way into her bathroom. She flipped on the light and stared in shock at her reflection. Her hair was a wreck, a complete bird’s nest, and was that a hickey on her shoulder? Her lips were swollen, her gaze was totally unfocused and here and there were angry, red marks. From what?

She ran her hand over one at her breast.

What had—?

Ooooooh.

Mason’s head between her breasts...

The scrape of his beard...

Well, at least it wasn’t some strange rash.

Oh, God.

Hannah sat down on the toilet lid and cradled her head.

She hadn’t even asked him about diseases or infections or his sexual history. What kind of irresponsible human being had she turned into? She leaned forward, head between her knees and sucked in a deep breath. Now she got it—how women jumped into bed with someone, caught up in the moment, and wound up with a leftover party favor they didn’t want.

She’d have to ask him. As awkward as it was bound to be, she couldn’t go through the next few days without knowing. It would eat away at her.

That decided, she set about cleaning up, using the toilet, and brushing out the crazy mess that had become her hair. She didn’t even realize she was still naked until after the last snarl was out.

Hannah stood back, staring at herself. She’d never minded her body. It was too long, too gangly, her breasts too small, but she was athletic, fit, and healthy. It still wasn’t a normal habit for her to stand around naked as the day she was born.

She dug her nightgown out of her bag, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat still radiating off her skin.

The v-card was gone.

Hannah paced to the sliding glass doors and stared out at the ocean.

Did she feel different?

The muscles in her abdomen and between her legs were sore, but that was it. No miraculous change, no big difference.

Virginity was just that. A title slapped on a person for the benefit of assigning value to it and nothing more.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She swallowed and crept toward the adjoining door. She twisted the handle and it swung toward her.

Mason stood on the other side, still naked, but his hair was damp and there was no great, intimidating erection pointed her way. A great big bubble of warmth popped deep in her chest, spreading it’s ooeygooeyness everywhere.

Oh man...

She clung to the door, her knees going all weak again.

Ho-kay, she was a liar. A big fat liar.

“Hey,” she said.

“Come here.”

He reached for her hand, prying it off the lever, and led her to his bed. The door swung shut behind her, locking her out of her room. She couldn’t even find it in her head to care—not when Mason was looking at her like
that
. Whatever
that
was.

She was different. Or maybe the way she felt about Mason was what was different now.

Mason pushed the comforter and sheets down, then nudged her onto the mattress. She scooted over, making room for him. Her heart thrummed at the back of her throat as he slid in next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her closer.

“You’re fucking perfect, ya know?” he muttered.

She covered his hand with her trembling fingers. Standing in the next room, their sex hadn’t seemed like such a big deal, but face to face with Mason... She was screwed.

And all they had together was a weekend.

But her heart didn’t know that.

“I hate to be a downer, but I don’t think that coconut drink agrees with me.” Mason wrinkled his nose.

“It’s okay.”

Just a weekend.

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” he muttered.

“No big deal.”

Could she really get her fill of him in five days?

No. She couldn’t, but she had to.

Rogelio hung back and waited for the prick, Dylan, to swipe the key card. Something about this whole plan, ever since things went sideways on the pick-up, had been off. Maybe it was Dylan. The kid was way too cocky. Or maybe it was the girl. Too good to be true. Whatever it was, Rogelio was ready to grab the merchandize and split.

The door beeped and Dylan pushed it open. Rogelio shouldered past him and squinted into the dark room.

“Turn the fucking lights on,” Dylan whispered.

“Don’t—”

Too late, the idiot flipped the switches, plunging the room into fluorescent brightness.

Rogelio stared at the bed.

The empty bed.

Shit.

He’d known it was too good to be true.

Dylan strode to the bed and threw the perfectly made bedding on the floor.

“Where is she? Where the fuck is she?” His voice rose with each word.

Rogelio grabbed Dylan’s arm, yanking him around.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Rogelio said, voice pitched low. “Where’s the man with her? Hm?”

“What man?” Dylan glared at him.

“You don’t even know.” Rogelio released him and muttered under his breath. “She checked in with a guy. A big dude. Probably one of the guys who helped her get her shit from your house.”

Cruz wasn’t going to like this one bit. One hiccup could be smoothed out. Two? Someone was going to pay and it would not be Rogelio.

“We have to get out of here,” he said.

“No, she’ll be back. We just need to wait for her.” Dylan glared. The kid was in over his head and Rogelio wasn’t going to help him. Not after this.

“I’m not going to wait around for her to come back. I’ve got two more girls to pick up. You wait for her.”

Chances were, the girl was already passed out somewhere and they could find her on the hotel security cameras. It would mean doing some clean up with the tapes, but they could always swap out the footage with another camera and the same time stamp.

“Shit. God damn it.” Dylan punched the thin, cheap wall, leaving a deep divot.

Rogelio squeezed his eyes shut.

Maybe Cruz would let him strangle the idiot.

“We‘ll just have to grab her another way,” Rogelio said. Like, maybe when she went to the police about someone breaking into her room.

Dylan kicked a bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor and kicking them around.

“We’re leaving, now.” Rogelio grabbed Dylan by the arm and hauled him out of the door, into the hall. Their blind window for snatching and grabbing was almost up.

“What the hell?” Dylan jerked out of his hold.

“I don’t have time to sit around here and fix your fuck-up. Go back to your hotel and wait for Cruz to tell you what to do.”

“Fuck you, man.”

“No thanks, I don’t like little boys.” Rogelio flipped Dylan the bird as he strode toward the service elevators.

At least his other guys had eyes on the two party girls. They’d be easy to steer away where no one was watching. At least one job was easy tonight.

M
ason’s stomach rolled. The boat pitched, jostling him in his bunk.

He was going to be sick.

“Mason? Mason, wake up.”

He pried one eye open, but it wouldn’t focus. Yellow light created a halo around the most beautiful face he’d ever seen.

Hannah?

But what was she doing...?

Where was he?

“What?” He rolled to his back and squinted, taking in what he could see of his surroundings.

A couple of F-22s had to be dive bombing his skull with the way it was pounding.

“You’re awake. Finally.” Hannah threw up her hands and paced away from him.