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Ultimate Engagement Page 4
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When he lifted her, Sloan could hardly believe what was happening, but the sensations bombarding her made it impossible for her to think or try to process anything. She was here, in Adam’s arms. Her body was strung tight, teetering on the edge. A push from Adam, and she’d go overboard, probably beg him to fuck her in the giant bed he’d carried her to.
He placed her down gently, her arms around his neck keeping them connected, his body, hardness, and warmth against hers, his eyes molten amber.
Sloan’s breath hitched in her throat when he lowered his face toward her, his lips above hers, close, but not touching.
“Turn off the light,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers, his breath close enough she could mistake it for her own. She was certain her ears were deceiving her, but there was no lie in the way his body felt against hers.
Using muscles that she was surprised she still controlled, Sloan reached out and twisted the knob on the beside lamp, and the room was plunged into twilight darkness.
That darkness only intensified the atmosphere of the room. Adam was close enough she could still see his features, but only barely. The lack of sight only heightened her other senses, she felt everything, the thud of his heart against his chest, his smooth skin under her hands, his heavily muscled body against hers, the masculine scent of him.
They stayed that way for moments, not nearly long enough for Sloan, but longer than she ever would have hoped for before today.
And the entire time his lips were only millimeters from hers, his breath against her skin, each exhale sending her higher and higher on a spiral of need.
“I think that’s good enough,” he said a moment later.
Good enough? Oh no, it wasn’t. Wouldn’t be until he touched her, until she felt him inside her, pounding into her again and again, relentlessly.
“What?” Sloan said, her words sounding drunken, slurred to her own ear.
“We’ve put on a good enough show. If somebody’s watching, they’ll think we’re occupied,” Adam said.
Weren’t they occupied? Sloan almost asked the question, but sudden realization hit her.
“Oh,” Sloan said.
Somehow she’d forgotten how close they were, but she realized then she had held him tight with both her arms and had somewhere along the way hooked her legs around his waist.
She dropped them quickly, and then looked in the vicinity of his face but didn’t dare meet his eyes.
“Umm…so…”
“I’m going to do a little recon,” he said.
“Okay,” Sloan replied, hating to hear the disappointment in her voice but unable to keep it out, not when she trembled inside, not when her pussy clenched, seeking something, somebody—Adam—to fill it. That wasn’t going to happen, and Sloan struggled to get her body to accept what her mind already had.
Adam pulled away, taking his warmth with him, and she shivered involuntarily.
“Stay here, and try to lay low,” Adam said.
Sloan nodded, but didn’t look at Adam as he went to the corner of the room. When he returned, she sat up and looked toward him where he stood in black pants and a tight black T-shirt.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours tops, well before dinner,” he said.
Sloan nodded again, still not meeting his eye, and then a moment later, he walked toward the balcony and out onto the patio.
In the next blink he was gone, leaving Sloan alone with her embarrassment and a body that still yearned for Adam’s touch.
5
He probably shouldn’t have cut and run like that, but the alternative was not really an alternative.
The shuttle ride had been excruciating, far more than the plane ride. On the shuttle, they’d been in much closer quarters, all of Sloan’s soft curves pressed against his body, and the instinct to lose himself in that softness not at all conducive to conducting a levelheaded intel-gathering mission. His imagination wasn’t helping. He had assessed and discounted the other guests, taken stock of the security, which left him with little to do but take in the scenery. Even Adam, who didn’t usually appreciate such things, could acknowledge that, and worse, he could imagine spending time in this place with a lover.
With Sloan.
He still fucking hated the beach, but it was easy to picture Sloan on it, the sun lighting the bright streaks in her hair. Could imagine Sloan underneath him, trapped between his body and the sand.
Fuck. Get it together, Reins. That line of thinking would get him in trouble, so he shook himself and refocused, looking at everything else around him. The resort was on a peninsula, set off from more popular beaches and as secluded as it could possibly be. Adam could immediately see why this trip had cost more than a few of Lucian’s pennies.
Smart of Sloan to add a little bit to his cover story about inheriting some money, because it would be hard for Adam to sell a story about him having the coin to pay for this trip.
Everything was quiet, and there wasn’t another soul in sight, but Adam didn’t doubt there were eyes. So, instead of immediately heading to look around the resort, he headed for the huge pool and walked around it, hoping he looked like he needed some air.
The resort was beautiful, but Adam couldn’t wait to find out more about it, see what was underneath the pristine surface, because something was definitely up here.
He settled on one of the lounge chairs and waited, counting the steps of his approaching visitor. Thirty seconds later, Alistair Jones asked in his crisp accent, “All alone?”
Adam looked over, nodded. “Yeah. The little lady is taking a nap,” he said, smiling when he thought of how Sloan would react to being called “little lady.”
“Yes. It is a rather long journey. You’re not tired?” Alistair asked.
Adam shrugged. “How could I sleep when there’s all this to look at?” he said, sweeping his hand out over the pool.
“Your companion is rather lovely to look at too,” he said.
“You looked at her close enough to notice? Don’t know how I feel about that,” Adam said, leaning back in the lounge chair, though he could feel his expression tighten and his eyes narrow a little.
Alistair shrugged casually, gave Adam one of those reptilian smiles. “No insult intended. But I’m honest enough to acknowledge a beautiful woman when I see one.”
“That she is,” Adam said, his eyes narrowing into hard pinpricks that pinned Alistair with a deadly stare. “Alistair, do you know the saying ‘look, but don’t touch’?” Adam asked as he stood slowly, wiped his hands together, and then brushed them down his pants.
Alistair looked at him and nodded.
“I have a slightly different version,” he said. “Don’t look. Don’t touch.”
Alistair crinkled one corner of his mouth and then nodded curtly. “Understood.”
“Good,” he said.
Adam took the opportunity to walk away, not only because it was nearing time for dinner, but because he didn’t trust himself to stay in Alistair’s presence and not blow his cover. He felt like Alistair was testing him, trying to pump him for information, and it was clear his little statements about Sloan were an attempt to take him off his game, make him more likely to give up information. There was no way Alistair had gotten to his position by willy-nilly talking about other people’s partners; he was too calculating for that, Adam knew, so there had to be an alternative reason.
Adam was stupid, but he wasn’t that stupid, so he tucked tail and made for his room for the moment.
By the time he made it back to the hotel room, he was actually excited about the prospect of the mission because if nothing else, he’d get to fuck up Alistair’s shit. He unlocked the hotel room door and entered, immediately noticing Sloan was nowhere to be found. A moment’s panic hit him, but he calmed when he heard movement in the room’s en suite.
“Sloan?” he called.
“Just a moment,” she replied, her voice muffled through the closed door.
He listened as she moved aro
und what he knew was the large bathroom, and Adam could swear he heard her hum, the soft, sultry sound worming its way into his blood. The sound made him clench his fists as he fought to maintain his control. Two seconds and the sound of her voice had him on edge, ready for her. He turned away, figuring that staring at the door was not a good use of his time, and went to his luggage.
He kept his head turned when he heard the door open. “I was wondering if you were going to make it back in time—”
Despite his unspoken promise not to do so, Adam turned. Sloan was still talking, but Adam couldn’t hear her, not really. He couldn’t when all of his senses were completely enraptured by the sight of her.
He’d never seen Sloan like this—he’d never seen anyone as beautiful. She’d pulled half of her braids up into a twist and let the other half trail down her shoulders. Her bare shoulders.
Adam followed the trail of her hair down and over her shoulders across her skin until his gaze snagged on the gauzy white fabric of her sleeveless dress. A moment later, he continued down the dress. There wasn’t much too it, really just a scrap of fabric that stopped just above her knees, hugging and caressing Sloan’s body in a worshipful way that he wanted to mimic. The hard-on that his chat with Alistair had managed to tame came back full force.
“Did you hear me?”
Adam blinked at the sound of her voice and then, with great effort, lifted his eyes to her.
“Sorry. What did you say?” Adam responded.
“Did you find anything?”
“Nothing important, but I did have a little conversation with our proprietor.”
“Pleasant, I take it,” she said, though the little smile on her face told him she thought anything but.
“You know me,” he replied with a shrug, at which she laughed.
“So what do you think?” she asked.
“He’s an asshole, and scummy as fuck, but I don’t have anything beyond that,” he said. “I should get ready.”
Adam walked toward the bathroom, careful not to look at Sloan more than necessary. He showered and dressed in a half hour, then stepped back out of the bathroom. His gaze immediately centered on Sloan where she sat, one of her legs tucked under her, looking as delectable, more so than she had earlier.
Adam only barely bit back a groan, his cock now hard enough to hammer nails.
This trip was going to kill him.
6
“Can you pass the bread?” Dirk, Sloan and Adam’s tablemate, asked.
Adam grunted and slid the basket across the table to the man, who was in his midforties, his dark hair thinning on the top.
“Thank you kindly, Adam,” Dirk said. Then he looked at Adam, eyes twinkling conspiratorially. “I gotta carbo-load for tonight.”
“Yeah, carbo-load,” Adam said, barely managing to get the words out.
It was enough for Dirk, though, who brightened immediately, which drew a groan from Adam. Fortunately, Dirk soon looked at his wife Candy, eyeing her like he wanted to slather her in butter and devour her like a piece of bread. But exercising restraint Adam thanked God for, Dirk reached for the bread, keeping his eyes off Candy long enough to butter the roll and take a bite.
His eyes lit up. “Did you taste this, honey?” he asked, mouth full.
He lifted his arm, extended the roll to Candy, a thin blonde, also in her midforties, who took a big bite.
“Umm. Yummy,” she said.
“Not as yummy as you.”
Dirk had only finished speaking when Candy started kissing him, though it looked to Adam like she was trying to suck his tongue out of his head.
Adam tightened his arm around Sloan, and she glanced over at him, bemused. She was as beautiful now as she had been in the hotel room, more, and Adam’s heart began to pound.
“Bet we could give Dirk and Candy a run for their money,” he whispered.
Sloan’s eyes flashed, but then she smiled. “We migh—”
“Sorry about that,” Candy said on a high-pitched giggle.
Adam looked at her, saw the flush of her cheeks and slightly embarrassed expression. He looked back to Sloan, wanting to hear what she had been about to say, but she faced the other couple now, her expression soft, friendly, and not at all as it had been moments ago.
“That’s okay,” she said, smiling a little brighter. “We know how it is. Don’t we, honey?”
“Uh…yeah. It’s a couples’ retreat,” Adam said.
There was a moment’s pause, but then Dirk looked at him sympathetically. “Your lady had to twist your arm to get you down here too, huh?”
“Dirk, you know it wasn’t your arm I was twisting,” Candy interjected.
Sloan chuckled, which reminded Adam to smile, and they watched as the couple again got swept away in a kiss that would get them arrested in at least fifty-four countries.
“Sorry about that. Again!” Candy said, blushing more than usual, probably thanks to the excellent margaritas served with dinner.
“No problem,” Adam said. “Couples’ retreat.”
He heard Sloan’s soft chuckle, felt her body shift against his arm, but he didn’t look at her. First because if he did, he’d laugh and draw more attention to their table than Dirk and Candy already were. Second, if he risked looking at her, he’d feel compelled to kiss her, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he’d be able to resist.
“I tell you, Adam,” Dirk said after he’d disentangled from Candy enough to pick up his fork, “when Candy started in on this trip, I said hell no. Couples’ retreat.” Dirk scoffed. “What kind of crap is that? But I tell you, it’s been paradise. And it’s just the first day!”
“Yeah. It’s nice,” Adam said.
“Nice. It’s paradise! Did you see that bed? And the balcony! Of course we had to try both out, if you know what I mean.” Dirk threw Adam a dirty wink. “And what about that ocean? I told Candy we need to add it to the list. Ain’t that right, baby?” Dirk said.
The question set off yet another round of kissing, and Adam wondered how much longer this was going to go on. Dirk and Candy were annoying but seemed like good people, though Adam sure as fuck could have done without all the kissing. They’d been so distracting, he hadn’t really gotten too good a look at Alistair’s setup, more specifically the security guards that stood sentry around the resort.
And there was the simple fact that Adam envied them. He wanted to touch Sloan, kiss her, claim her as his.
But she wasn’t. Never would be.
A soft hand on his thigh brought Adam out of his dark thoughts. He glanced over, met Sloan’s eyes, and she gave him a small smile that lifted his heart.
Then she turned and said, “So, Dirk, tell me about the concrete business.”
Dirk did, in detail, and right around the time Dirk started to explain why he preferred seven-minute quick-dry over five, Adam had tuned him out completely. He focused on Alistair’s men and their setup, taking in every detail he could, something he could only do because Sloan was so effectively running interference.
He looked at her, grateful his cover meant he could watch her and not worry about anyone, including her, caring. Smart, beautiful, with an instinct for ops. He wondered how many more times Sloan would amaze him.
••••
“You having a good time?” Adam asked, close to her ear, his warm breath tickling over her skin, and Sloan did what she could to avoid shivering.
The dinner had gone off without a hitch, without much help from Sloan. She’d chitchatted with Dirk and Candy when they hadn’t been eating each other’s faces, but she hadn’t been able to focus on the conversation and thanked God Dirk and Candy hadn’t needed much prodding to take over.
Because Sloan’s mind had been elsewhere, focused on how her body was primed, completely overwhelmed with Adam’s persistent closeness. He hadn’t left her side during dinner, or for the length of the cocktail hour after.
In fact, his focus had been entirely on her, attending to her every little need,
and when it wasn’t, he kept his arm casually looped around her shoulders or had his hand stroking her upper arm, lingering at her waist.
Sloan had never been so bombarded with sensation, desire, and sometimes when she caught a glimpse of Adam’s eyes and he gave her a soft, sly smile, she could almost believe he felt the same.
He didn’t. This act was all a part of his cover, just a tool to help him complete his mission, but as foolish as it was, she couldn’t stop herself from wishing that he felt even a little of the affection toward her he showed.
Although his affection wasn’t real, Sloan knew Adam was doing a convincing job. Sloan had known him for so long, she could see that while he pretended his attention was on her, he was keeping tabs on everything that happened in the room, particularly the “security guards” stationed around the perimeter of the outside dining room.
Everything about those men, Sloan had counted ten so far, screamed “mercenary” to Sloan, and if she had picked up on that, there was no way Adam could have missed it. Mercenaries were a more serious investment than cheap rent-a-cops. You didn’t hire them unless you were running a very dangerous business that needed the best protection money could buy.
Still, he did an amazing job of pretending Sloan was the center of his attention. He’d also paid a fair amount of attention to Alistair, who hadn’t approached but whom Sloan had found looking over at them more than once.
“Mademoiselle?” Adam said, whispering in her ear.
“What are you—”
Before she could finish speaking, Adam had pulled her from the comfortable padded bench where they sat and up to her feet.
“Would my beautiful bride-to-be give me the honor of this dance?”
When Adam spoke, his eyes were completely lasered on hers, but his voice was loud, loud enough for those around to hear him fawn.
Sloan was doing a fair amount of fawning herself. Because when he looked at her like that, seeming so sincere, it made her entire body tremble with her desire for him. She gave him a small smile and nodded, and in the next instant, he had begun to move her around the makeshift dance floor, the dim light provided by the torches and cool summer beach breeze making the setting ideal.