Extreme Danger (McClouds & Friends #5)(110)

“Oh, yeah. One more thing,” he said. “That lipstick. The stuff you lifted off the mafiya mistress. The slut red. You got that stuff with you?”

Her gorgeous lips twitched. “In my purse,” she said demurely.

“Put some on,” he said.

“Of course. I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it myself.” She grabbed her purse from the bed, rummaging through it till she found the silver tube. Then she turned to the stained, dim-looking mirror, and peeked at him mischievously as she put the stuff on.

He wished he was a photographer who could catch that moment forever. Her gorgeous ass stuck out, legs parted for his viewing pleasure so that he could see just a shadowy glimpse of her cunt. Her front reflected in the mirror, tits swaying, dawning wonder in her eyes. Mouth pursed up as she painted herself with painstaking slowness. Dragging it out.

And him, in the background, clutching his dick in his hand. His eyes looked like staring holes in his stark face. He looked desperate.

Power tripping, hell. He was helpless, pleading, at her mercy. In the palm of her slender hand. The only place on earth he wanted to be.

He had to toughen up. Keep up his macho dominator schtick, if he could swing it. Melting down into molten slop for her was not a turn-on. Not a confidence builder. Not if he wanted to keep things light.

No I-love-you’s. He’d learned his lesson the night before.

She looked back over her shoulder and gave him a hot red smile. “You like this color?”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “I think that color would look really great around the base of my dick.”

It was a risk, but he knew it had paid off when her nose wrinkled up and he heard the telltale snuffle of suppressed giggles. “Pig,” she muttered, tossing the lipstick in the general direction of her purse.

She grabbed his cock as she sank to her knees, and oh, man. He was a goner. As usual, everything was different with Becca.

Including himself. He liked it. The fun, the teasing, the arguing. His face felt strange these days. It actually ached from smiling so much.

She rubbed the head of his cock against her hot, cloud-soft cheek, and flashed him a teasing look. “Does this remind you of something?”

She puntuated her question with a swipe of her pink tongue along the slit on his cock head that oozed clear, slippery drops of precome. She licked it up, swirling her tongue round his glans.

He struggled to remember what the hell she’d said. “Huh? Remind me of what? I can’t think straight when you’re doing that.”

“The night we met. Remember? Me naked, you clothed?”

He grinned. “You bet I remember. Me on my feet, you on your knees.” His breath hissing through his teeth in a shocked gasp of pleasure as she lapped up one side of his shaft, twisted around the glans again and swiped down the other side.

“So strange,” she murmured, between voluptuous strokes of her tongue. “It was like I was split in two. One part thinking, God, he is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen…” She took time out to flutter her tongue flirtatiously against the taut pucker of flesh on the underside of his cock head. “The other part thinking, this guy is going to kill me.”

He shook with a burst of silent laughter. “Same here.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m so sure,” she scoffed. “As if I could be so scary, buck naked and dripping wet.”

His laughter shocked off as she did something totally amazing with her tongue, fluttering it underneath and around while she worked the base of his cock with her hands. “Oh, you were plenty scary,” he told her. “I thought I was meat. I thought Zhoglo’d sent you.”

That jolted her so much, she took her mouth away from that excellent thing she’d been doing with her tongue against his cock head.

Not a desirable outcome. He should have kept his goddamn mouth shut. But it was his own fault. Served him right, for falling ass over head for a talkative woman.

“No way!” she breathed. “Zhoglo? Me?”

“I thought, oh, shit, they’re onto me,” he confessed. “I thought, either you were a black widow assassin sent to f*ck me and kill me, or else you were a call girl sent to f*ck me and distract me so that somebody else could kill me. Either way, I was dead meat. I was consoled only by the fact that either way I also got to f*ck you. Split-second response. Couldn’t call it thinking.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“Then I looked at your bare-ass naked perfect dripping body, and all I could think was, wow. What a way to go,” he concluded.

“You thought that I could be a call girl? Or an assassin?” Her voice squeaked till it broke. “A milquetoast wuss like me? Puh-leeze.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, “I know exactly what to do with an assassin or a call girl. I had no f*cking clue what to do with you.”

She snickered. “Oh, you improvised well enough, as I recall.”

He ignored her, cupped her jaw and stared intently down into her beautiful upturned face as he struggled to frame the thought in words.

“You are so much more than I bargained for,” he said slowly. “You are like, the secret weapon, sweetheart. You take me to pieces.”

Her giggles stopped, the smile faded to a somber gaze, and she covered his hands with her own. She kissed both his palms, grabbed his cock and brought it to her mouth. And oh, sweet Jesus.