Hard Line - Pamela Clare Page 0,27

tasting her. Then she undressed him, took his cock in hand until he ached for her. He sat in her chair, helped her straddle him, and buried himself inside her, letting her ride him until her head fell back and she cried out.

He sucked in a breath as he came, climax washing through him in a rush. But the sensual heat of his fantasy was all too quickly replaced by cold reality.

He cleaned the cum off his hand and belly with a tissue, closed his eyes, and fell asleep at last, his dreams full of Samantha.

8

Thor got up early and hit the gym to burn off fatigue and sexual frustration, going for a run on the treadmill and lifting weights. Then he took a quick shower and met with Tower from his room, bringing him up to date.

“They said they were lost, but I don’t buy it.”

“Neither do I. They were checking things out—the location of your rooms, how you’d respond, any potential security.”

“Vasily, the one who speaks English, knew what Sirius was. When he overheard me mention it, he knew I was Danish. If we looked into his background, I’m sure we’d find ties to Russian intelligence, maybe the KGB.”

“I already got the names of the Russian guests from Hardin, and we’re running them by our contacts at the CIA and DHS. We’ll let you know if anything pops.” Tower reached toward his keyboard, shared his screen. “In the meantime, care to explain this?”

There was a photograph of Thor, naked, just before he’d stepped outside, Jones right behind him, dicks hanging out for the world to see. It was part of a blog post. “South Pole Adventures,” by Jason Huger.

Den forbandet idiot. That fucking idiot.

Thor would deal with him later.

“Jones and I joined the Three Hundred Club last night, sir.”

“That’s what it says in the caption. What the fuck is that?”

Thor explained, making it clear that Segal had stayed by their rooms. “It doesn’t hurt the mission to do what we can to fit in here and partake in their culture.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. And you’re both okay—no frostbitten dicks?”

“We’re good, sir. Any idea when you’ll be flying us out?”

“It looks like we’ll get a break in the weather in eight days, but that’s still far enough out that the meteorologists are just guessing.”

“Understood.” Thor signed off and met Segal and Jones in the hallway, he and Segal sharing a glance.

Yeah, Jones had kept Segal awake, too.

Jones took one look at them and knew they were pissed. “Things got a little noisy last night. I hope we didn’t keep you awake.”

“You did—along with everyone else in this berthing area.” Thor didn’t hide his irritation. “No one cares if you get laid on your downtime, but be discreet, man. We’re not welcome here, and last night did nothing to improve that.”

Jones got a cocky grin on his face. “Can I help it if she enjoyed herself? Nurses, man. They know anatomy.”

Segal glared at him. “Next time, tell her to keep it quiet. It’s not like she can’t control herself.”

“Maybe I just blew her mind.”

Segal snorted. “Do you think she carries on like that when she gets herself off? Nah, man. When a woman makes that much noise, it’s theater.”

“Maybe that’s how it is with you, but no woman has to act when she’s with me.”

“Fuck.” Thor swore under his breath. “Enough. Let’s get breakfast.”

The two ribbed one another—quietly—as they walked to the galley, where he found Samantha sitting with Kristi, who wore blue scrubs for her shift. Their heads were close together, Kristi speaking excitedly about something.

Thor had a pretty good idea what that might be.

Their conversation ended the moment Kristi saw them. Her face lit up in a smile, and she motioned to Jones to sit beside her.

“No embarrassing her,” Jones whispered.

Thor shot him a look. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No, but he might.” Jones pointed to Segal, who rolled his eyes.

The three of them filled their trays—scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes, toast, bacon, coffee—and joined the women.

Samantha’s hair was down for the first time since Thor had met her, her pale blond strands hanging to the middle of her back. Thor shouldn’t have noticed or cared—but he did. He wanted to touch it, to run his fingers through it.

She looked up but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He sat, sipped his coffee. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “You?”

Thor met Jones’ gaze. “Well enough.”

Just then, Jason walked by, wearing his kitchen uniform, phone in his hand.

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