around to the woman whose presence was driving him out of his mind.
“Anything?”
“No. I’ve been through about a quarter of the passengers. So far, no one looks familiar.”
“Like you said, it’s a long shot. If they have any sense, they sent someone they can disavow knowledge of if they get caught.”
She turned to face him. The bluish glare from the monitor made her facial features appear fragile. Her lips looked like a ripe plum, one he wanted to take inside his mouth and suck. He shook his head. What the hell was the matter with him? She’d brought an iceberg with her tonight, and that was a stop sign he’d always obeyed. Until now.
“Drew?”
A hint of uncertainty, or was it warning, tinged the single syllable. Whatever it was, it went unheeded. Drew moved. One hand curved around the back of her neck, the other closed over the arm of her chair. He swung her around, chair and all, and his lips covered hers.
She made a sound. It originated from deep within and vibrated up and along her lips. All Drew knew was that it wasn’t a protest. A second later she was in his lap, her legs draped over his, his hands on her waist, hers splayed like iron bands around his skull. She opened her mouth over his and his tongue plunged inside. Hot. Sweet. Not an ice cube in sight.
He considered himself a tender and considerate lover, but there was no hint of either in the way he devoured her. For every liberty he took, Bree responded with one equally bold. Her sarong brushed against his calves as it slid to the floor, taking with it every reason he could think not to have this woman. She was willing, and he knew from the night before, able.
His hands found the perfection of her breasts, and at his touch, another musical tone vibrated through her and to him via their connected lips. Their breath came in matching pants. Drew broke the kiss and transferred his lips to her right breast. Bree wrapped her arms around his head like a shipwreck survivor clinging to a bit of flotsam.
She tasted like honey. In the garish light from the monitors, her breasts were mystical objects. Translucent orbs tipped with ripe plums. Drew took what he wanted from her. His teeth grazed her tight buds, his tongue soothed, his lips claimed.
Bree arched her back. Her head fell back, exposing her long neck to him. Her fire-red hair burned his hand where he supported her. She was sleek in the right places, all soft curves in the others. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. His lips went where they would, and his hands followed. Sometimes he could feel her eyes on him, but then he’d find that certain spot, and her gaze would dim and she’d surrender to him.
He lived for those moments. She wasn’t one to submit, and he’d never been one to dominate, but in those rare flashes when she was totally his, he knew what it was to be a king, in command of all he could see and touch.
When he lifted her from her chair and dropped her butt on the Formica desktop, she made no protest. When he stripped her panties away and stepped between her muscular thighs, she leaned against the console and propped her feet on the edge of the desk. One small hand slipped across her mound, and two blood-red tipped fingers spread her outer lips for him.
His heart stopped. His cock throbbed. He had to have her. Here. Now.
Drew lost whatever shred of decency he had. He found a condom amid the desk clutter and rolled it along his aching cock. He glanced at her face, hoped to God she hadn’t changed her mind. Her tongue rimmed her parted lips, an invitation if he ever saw one. He guided his cock to the opening she’d framed with her fingers, and nudged forward enough to hold his cock in place. His hands found her knees, and he froze there for the span of a heartbeat, all the time he would give her to change her mind now.
His heart thudded again, and his grip tightened on her raised knees. He flexed at the waist and drove his cock balls-deep inside her honeyed
“Anything?”
“No. I’ve been through about a quarter of the passengers. So far, no one looks familiar.”
“Like you said, it’s a long shot. If they have any sense, they sent someone they can disavow knowledge of if they get caught.”
She turned to face him. The bluish glare from the monitor made her facial features appear fragile. Her lips looked like a ripe plum, one he wanted to take inside his mouth and suck. He shook his head. What the hell was the matter with him? She’d brought an iceberg with her tonight, and that was a stop sign he’d always obeyed. Until now.
“Drew?”
A hint of uncertainty, or was it warning, tinged the single syllable. Whatever it was, it went unheeded. Drew moved. One hand curved around the back of her neck, the other closed over the arm of her chair. He swung her around, chair and all, and his lips covered hers.
She made a sound. It originated from deep within and vibrated up and along her lips. All Drew knew was that it wasn’t a protest. A second later she was in his lap, her legs draped over his, his hands on her waist, hers splayed like iron bands around his skull. She opened her mouth over his and his tongue plunged inside. Hot. Sweet. Not an ice cube in sight.
He considered himself a tender and considerate lover, but there was no hint of either in the way he devoured her. For every liberty he took, Bree responded with one equally bold. Her sarong brushed against his calves as it slid to the floor, taking with it every reason he could think not to have this woman. She was willing, and he knew from the night before, able.
His hands found the perfection of her breasts, and at his touch, another musical tone vibrated through her and to him via their connected lips. Their breath came in matching pants. Drew broke the kiss and transferred his lips to her right breast. Bree wrapped her arms around his head like a shipwreck survivor clinging to a bit of flotsam.
She tasted like honey. In the garish light from the monitors, her breasts were mystical objects. Translucent orbs tipped with ripe plums. Drew took what he wanted from her. His teeth grazed her tight buds, his tongue soothed, his lips claimed.
Bree arched her back. Her head fell back, exposing her long neck to him. Her fire-red hair burned his hand where he supported her. She was sleek in the right places, all soft curves in the others. He couldn’t get enough of touching her. His lips went where they would, and his hands followed. Sometimes he could feel her eyes on him, but then he’d find that certain spot, and her gaze would dim and she’d surrender to him.
He lived for those moments. She wasn’t one to submit, and he’d never been one to dominate, but in those rare flashes when she was totally his, he knew what it was to be a king, in command of all he could see and touch.
When he lifted her from her chair and dropped her butt on the Formica desktop, she made no protest. When he stripped her panties away and stepped between her muscular thighs, she leaned against the console and propped her feet on the edge of the desk. One small hand slipped across her mound, and two blood-red tipped fingers spread her outer lips for him.
His heart stopped. His cock throbbed. He had to have her. Here. Now.
Drew lost whatever shred of decency he had. He found a condom amid the desk clutter and rolled it along his aching cock. He glanced at her face, hoped to God she hadn’t changed her mind. Her tongue rimmed her parted lips, an invitation if he ever saw one. He guided his cock to the opening she’d framed with her fingers, and nudged forward enough to hold his cock in place. His hands found her knees, and he froze there for the span of a heartbeat, all the time he would give her to change her mind now.
His heart thudded again, and his grip tightened on her raised knees. He flexed at the waist and drove his cock balls-deep inside her honeyed
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