The Wedding Trap (Second Service #1)(33)
Author: Adrienne Bell

He needed to rectify that. Now.

He made his way down her belly, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He bent down on his knees before her, and hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties. With aching slowness he dragged them over her pale skin, exposing her pu**y.

She was trembling. He glanced up to see if it was anticipation or anxiety over being naked that had her shaking. A mixture of both, he decided. It was all right. He knew a way to take her mind off her fears.

He wrapped his fingers around her left leg and draped it over his shoulder. She was beautiful. Every inch of her. Every part. He kissed her again, his tongue moving slowly between her lips.

She tasted every bit as sweet as he’d imagined. He turned slow circles around her clit until her little moans were breathy and more urgent. Her hands curled into his shoulders, pressing him forward. She didn’t mind asking for more of what she wanted. And he was only too happy to comply.

Her legs started to shudder. He pressed his hands against her body to hold her upright. Her shaking became more intense, her moans more urgent, until he felt her break and loosen against him. Only then did he stop and rise to his feet.

He didn’t waste any time stripping off the rest of his clothes, and discarded them in a pile on the bathroom tile. He settled into the tub first. She followed, sitting down on his lap. Her legs nestled against his side. She slowly descended, taking him all the way in one stroke.

Damn, she felt good. Soft and wet and everything that he’d ever wanted. Her legs were still shaky, and she moved slowly. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He was going to savor her. Every stroke. Every heartbeat. Every breath.

He wrapped his hands around her neck and kissed her. He didn’t break the kiss. Not once. Not as the warm water surrounding their moving bodies sloshed over the side of the tub. Not as the pleasure of her body sliding against his grew until he felt as though he would lose himself entirely in her. And when he finally did break, he clutched her to him as if she were the source of everything he’d ever needed.

***

Beth wrapped the hotel robe around her body. She’d finally relented and climbed from the tub. She couldn’t stay in there forever. She was half prune as it was. And while Alex had shown her in every imaginable way that he had absolutely no problem with her body, she wasn’t sure yet that she wanted to push the limits of his tolerance by going full prune on the poor guy.

Water clung to her legs as she stepped out of the bathroom. Alex was already dressed…well, clothed…well, partially. He had on a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. It wasn’t exactly evening wear, but dear Lord, he still looked sexy as hell.

He looked up at her from the message he was reading on his phone and smiled. "Hey, sweetheart," he said.

Hey, sweetheart.

That was enough to make her a puddle on the floor. She was such a softie.

There was a knock on the door. Alex’s head immediately snapped up.

"Room service," a voice from the other side said.

Alex pulled his gun from the holster on the floor, and tucked it into the back waistband of his boxers. Only then did he go to the door.

"We didn’t order any room service," he said.

"It’s from a John Ryman. He called from down in the lobby. Said it was a shame you didn’t stay for dessert and champagne. Figured you might want this after an hour or so." Even through the door, Beth could hear the laughter in the man’s voice.

"Come on," Beth said. "I seriously doubt that assassins knock."

"Shows what you know," Alex said with a tilt of his head.

"I can leave it outside if, you know, this isn’t a good time," the voice said.

Alex undid the chain. Then the two other locks that held the door secure. He cracked it open slowly, his hand never leaving the butt of his gun. After a second, he let the door fall open.

A metal cart rolled into the room, pushed by the same waiter they’d run into in the corridor. The one that Alex had put into a choke hold not three hours ago.

"Hey, it’s you," the guy said with a big smile. Apparently, he wasn’t the kind to hold grudges. Alex didn’t look half as happy to see him. "Is there any chance that you could show me how you pulled off that sick move earlier?"

"No chance in hell."

"That’s too bad," he said. “Not many people get the drop on me. I’d like to have known how you did it."

Beth felt a tickle of unease as the waiter reached behind him and started to pull something out of his back waistband. She took a step to the side, so she was positioned behind the couch, as the waiter turned toward her. She didn’t wait. She listened to her gut and threw herself on the ground. She caught a flash of gunmetal as she fell.

She heard the gun go off. It was quieter than she expected. He must have had a silencer. Shards of wood floated to the floor as the bullet embedded in the wardrobe five feet behind her.

Beth lifted her head in time to see Alex slam into the other man. The waiter quickly recovered and tried turning the gun in Alex’s direction. But the men were too close.

Alex grabbed the man’s wrist and yanked it back hard. There were no broken bones this time, but the gun fell. Alex took a hard hit to the jaw, but he took it without complaint. And gave one of his own right back.

The hits flew so fast Beth had a hard time keeping track. This guy was better than the last. There was no doubt about that. He kept up with the speed of Alex’s punches, deflecting the worst of the attack.

Alex might need her help. She looked around for the gun and found it underneath the couch, just out of reach. She tried to squeeze her way under, but couldn’t quite fit. She desperately stretched out her arm, past the point of pain. Her fingers just barely brushed the butt. She flicked at it, willing it to move into her hand, until she finally got a decent grip on it.

She’d never held a real gun before, just water pistols when she was a kid, but she figured the idea was the same. Business end points at bad guy. Pull the trigger. Except if she did manage to fire this thing, something a hell of a lot worse than someone getting wet would happen.

Beth popped up from behind the couch. She tried to aim at the waiter, but her hands were shaking too hard. She straightened her arms and locked her elbows. It didn’t help.

Not that it mattered. The men were fighting too close for her to risk taking a shot.

Both men were taking a beating. Blood trickled from cuts on their faces. Body blows hit with sickening thuds, but other than that they didn’t make a sound. Neither grunted. Neither cried out.

The waiter landed a solid hit into Alex’s gut. Alex backed up a step, breathing hard. It looked like he was in trouble. The assassin must have thought the same thing. He took advantage, going for another hard blow to Alex’s side. But Alex didn’t crumple.