framed in the doorway, her features obscured by the flickering light from the big screen. She wore the short passenger-issue sarong that left her shapely legs silhouetted against the harsh hall lighting behind her. A buzz started along his spine, at the base of his skull, and shot like lightning to the small of his back, and from there it was a short trip to his groin.
She took in the poorly done porn, and Drew alone in the office, watching it. She shook her head, and then, as if she wasn’t entirely certain she should stay, stepped inside and shut the door. Drew noted the way she leaned against the door, clutching the handle. It hadn’t been all that long ago her pretty little hands had been wrapped around his cock.
“Disgusting.”
He slammed a mental door on his previous thought. This wasn’t a social call.
“True. The porn industry has nothing to fear from this group.”
She let go of the door and moved further into the room. He took it as a good sign.
“You misunderstood. I wasn’t talking about them, I was talking about you.”
Drew flicked to the next video in the queue and tried to ignore the unveiled insult. If that was the worst she had to say about him, then he’d consider himself fortunate. “What brings you down here?”
“Agent Hamilton told me you would be here.” She sat in the other desk chair and rolled around to sit next to him, facing the screen.
That explained her lack of surprise at finding him here. He wondered what Celeste had told her about him, about them. A cold chill replaced the flash of heat he’d experienced at seeing her. “You didn’t tell her about. . . . ”
“No, but I think she may have an idea. Why didn’t you tell me you were the security officer?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. Why didn’t you tell me you were FBI?”
“Same reason.” She changed the subject. “She said you were supposed to be looking for the eco-terrorist.”
He made the mental shift from personal to professional without stammering. “I am.”
“Really?” He didn’t mistake the scorn in her voice. Her tone warned that what had passed between them the previous evening wasn’t going to be repeated, or discussed any further. He certainly wouldn’t have fucked her if he’d known who she was. He’d never been one to dip his cock in the government alphabet soup, especially when it spelled FBI.
“I have been, but this is part of my job too. You can help, if you want.”
“I’ll pass. What have you done about identifying the suspect?”
“We have photos of all the staff members, as well as all the passengers. I understand you’re familiar with most of the members of this group, so I thought you might look through the photos and see if anyone rings a bell.”
“It’s a place to start. We don’t know who they sent. It’s more likely to be a new recruit, someone expendable if they get caught, but I can take a look.”
Drew set her in front of monitor and programmed a slideshow of the passengers for her. He turned his attention to the amateur porn again and tried his best to ignore her. It proved impossible. Every breath he took brought with it her scent, something light and airy, overlaid with a floral perfume that in no way reminded him of sweet innocence or alphabet soup. She smelled like sin. Exotic, hot, wild, fuck me carnality. Impossible to ignore.
He flipped through the videos, uninterested in any of them. A private video played through his mind. Bree, naked, open to him, begging. Ah yes, she’d begged, more than once in the course of the evening they’d spent together. Drew closed his hand over the roller-ball mouse and instead of cold plastic, his hand remembered the warmth and weight of her breasts, and the way they fit perfectly into his palms. His cock stirred at the sweet memory.
Drew shifted in his seat and tried to focus on his job. It was useless. He returned the screen to the usual random pattern of live security cameras, and swiveled his chair
She took in the poorly done porn, and Drew alone in the office, watching it. She shook her head, and then, as if she wasn’t entirely certain she should stay, stepped inside and shut the door. Drew noted the way she leaned against the door, clutching the handle. It hadn’t been all that long ago her pretty little hands had been wrapped around his cock.
“Disgusting.”
He slammed a mental door on his previous thought. This wasn’t a social call.
“True. The porn industry has nothing to fear from this group.”
She let go of the door and moved further into the room. He took it as a good sign.
“You misunderstood. I wasn’t talking about them, I was talking about you.”
Drew flicked to the next video in the queue and tried to ignore the unveiled insult. If that was the worst she had to say about him, then he’d consider himself fortunate. “What brings you down here?”
“Agent Hamilton told me you would be here.” She sat in the other desk chair and rolled around to sit next to him, facing the screen.
That explained her lack of surprise at finding him here. He wondered what Celeste had told her about him, about them. A cold chill replaced the flash of heat he’d experienced at seeing her. “You didn’t tell her about. . . . ”
“No, but I think she may have an idea. Why didn’t you tell me you were the security officer?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. Why didn’t you tell me you were FBI?”
“Same reason.” She changed the subject. “She said you were supposed to be looking for the eco-terrorist.”
He made the mental shift from personal to professional without stammering. “I am.”
“Really?” He didn’t mistake the scorn in her voice. Her tone warned that what had passed between them the previous evening wasn’t going to be repeated, or discussed any further. He certainly wouldn’t have fucked her if he’d known who she was. He’d never been one to dip his cock in the government alphabet soup, especially when it spelled FBI.
“I have been, but this is part of my job too. You can help, if you want.”
“I’ll pass. What have you done about identifying the suspect?”
“We have photos of all the staff members, as well as all the passengers. I understand you’re familiar with most of the members of this group, so I thought you might look through the photos and see if anyone rings a bell.”
“It’s a place to start. We don’t know who they sent. It’s more likely to be a new recruit, someone expendable if they get caught, but I can take a look.”
Drew set her in front of monitor and programmed a slideshow of the passengers for her. He turned his attention to the amateur porn again and tried his best to ignore her. It proved impossible. Every breath he took brought with it her scent, something light and airy, overlaid with a floral perfume that in no way reminded him of sweet innocence or alphabet soup. She smelled like sin. Exotic, hot, wild, fuck me carnality. Impossible to ignore.
He flipped through the videos, uninterested in any of them. A private video played through his mind. Bree, naked, open to him, begging. Ah yes, she’d begged, more than once in the course of the evening they’d spent together. Drew closed his hand over the roller-ball mouse and instead of cold plastic, his hand remembered the warmth and weight of her breasts, and the way they fit perfectly into his palms. His cock stirred at the sweet memory.
Drew shifted in his seat and tried to focus on his job. It was useless. He returned the screen to the usual random pattern of live security cameras, and swiveled his chair
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