Show No Fear - By Marliss Melton Page 0,36

the gentle rhythm he set resembled lovemaking more than sex. It summoned memories of a simpler time—a time filled with pleasure and excitement, anticipation and optimism. Tears seeped between her tightly closed eyelids, sliding into her hair. He kissed her, and the sweet surge and retreat of his body combined with his tender kisses was just too much.

“Just fuck me,” she ordered hoarsely, tearing her lips from his. Sinking her nails into the sleek muscles of his buttocks, she urged him faster, deeper before his tenderness undermined something she’d worked so hard to build.

His body stiffened in surprise. At the same time, his thumb encountered the moisture at her temple and he stopped moving.

“Why the tears, Luce?” he demanded with puzzlement.

“I’m just frustrated,” she insisted. Her body was drawn as tight as a bow. She just needed release from this internal crisis, and she’d be fine. “Please.” She rocked against him, making demands he was forced to answer.

He complied all too thoroughly, grinding his hips into hers the way she needed him to. Within seconds, Lucy shattered again, as intensely as the first time. With a groan against her neck, Gus buried himself deep inside her and followed suit.

For a long minute, neither of them moved. Lucy, whose uncharacteristic tears had dried, hoped he wouldn’t bring them up again. She turned her face aside, feigning drowsiness as he raised his head to regard her in the darkness.

“I assume you’ve got a handle on birth control?” he asked on a neutral note as he pulled out.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, searching for her panties. The Depo shot covered her for three months at a time.

As she settled back upon the mat, he gathered her against him, tucking the blanket carefully around her shoulders. They lay back to front, absolutely quiet, their bodies sated for the time being.

Lucy could sense that Gus’s thoughts were churning. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her any more questions.

A good case officer had to be tough, vigilant, hardedged. Relationships were for one of two purposes only—to appease her basic appetites or to obtain information. There should never be emotional overtones.

So, maybe she hadn’t had sex with Gus. Maybe she’d made love to him.

No! She couldn’t do that. Times had changed. Al Qaeda had attacked the United States on American soil. Now battles were being waged in every corner of the world. Caught in the midst of it, a key player, Lucy held the line.

She couldn’t afford to let her guard down, to be soft, to listen to the yearnings of her heart. She had a job to do.

She couldn’t afford to fall in love again.

GUS SCRUBBED A HAND over his four-day beard and sighed. He’d broken the map’s code. At least, he believed he’d broken the code, but only the JIC could confirm that by looking at a geodetic map, and the guys at the JIC might not have even considered that the camps’ names were encrypted.

He had to get in touch with them. If they directed the Predator to the right coordinates, the spy plane would be able to pick up heat signatures, get a feel for the rebel population, maybe snatch up some radio communications. He needed to talk to his teammates, but the only place the phone got coverage was right here in camp.

Placing a discreet call in the bungalow was out of the question. By day, the female rebels raised the bamboo blinds and beat the mats and blankets to chase out the vermin before sweeping the floor.

There had to be someplace else in this camp that offered a modicum of privacy so he could make a quick call.

Sweeping his gaze over the clearing, he was distracted by the sight of Lucy chumming up to the female rebels at the fire pit. Just the sight of her tightened his gut and sent a wave of warmth to his groin.

She had been just as amazingly responsive as he remembered. He suddenly wasn’t as upset about having her for a partner as he used to be. The experience had been close to perfect, even better than he’d imagined, except when Lucy had shed those private tears. For some reason, though, those tears gave him hope. Maybe she’d been remembering how rare and precious their relationship once was. Or was that him projecting his hopes onto her, setting himself up for a fall?

Catching himself off-task, he turned his thoughts back to finding a private place from which to call the JIC.

His gaze settled thoughtfully on the dreaded shed.

Well,

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