Barefoot with a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover #2)(67)

“Listen to me,” he murmured into the kiss. “Don’t talk, just listen.”

She nodded, her heart suddenly pounding for more reasons than just the pressure of his body against hers.

He pinned her to the wall, kissed her neck and finally worked his mouth to her ear. “If nothing’s missing, then we have to find what they left behind,” he whispered. “Most likely audio, because I’d spot a camera.”

The room was bugged?

“Work with me, Chess,” he said. “We’re going to use sex as our cover. Just follow my lead.”

She nodded.

“Act like you like this,” he breathed into her ear.

She did like it. She just didn’t like…someone watching or listening to just how much she liked it.

“Please,” he insisted, the word sounding like a plea for sex, but she knew it wasn’t. “You get on the bed while I look for a condom.”

But he didn’t mean condom. Not for one second, and she knew that. He squeezed tighter, silently telling her what to do.

“A condom. I like that plan.” She slid her hands up his arms, squeezing his muscles, closing around his neck to tell him she would give him a hundred percent on this. “And you know how I like a good plan.”

He pulled back long enough to wash her with a look of gratitude. And a little challenge. This was a test, and she was going to pass.

He kissed her again and went to the other ear to whisper more instructions. “Every word, every action has to be believable.”

She nodded.

“And it’s all about sex.”

Only it wasn’t. It was all about finding a bug.

“You distract on the bed. Talk to me, seduce me, do what you have to while I search for it.”

“And then?” She dragged out the words and stroked his head as if begging for sex talk and not a plan.

“Contingency, Francesca.”

In other words, go with the flow.

“I like that,” she said, purposely coy.

“And then we’ll get out of here,” he murmured. “Just follow my lead.”

She answered with the openmouthed kiss of a desperate, horny, sex-charged woman, not a determined, deceptive, mission-focused agent.

But that’s what she was now.

She dragged her hands down his chest, vaguely aware that his heart hammered like hers. “Whatever you say…” She tried to sound sexy and provocative, but still get her clear message across that he could trust her. “I’ll do.”

His eyes grew smoky, and his mouth almost tipped in a smile. “In the room, Francesca. Now.”

She damn near melted from anticipation and the way the demand turned her on.

That was no good. This had to be an act. A really good act.

She let him walk her to their door, holding him tight, kissing his shoulder, caressing his back like any lover would while he found the key and opened the door, then banged it hard and dead-bolted it.

“Are we—”

“Shut up,” he insisted, punctuating that with a kiss so hard he slammed her right against the wall.

He cupped her breasts and pushed into her, pretty damn hard for a man who was acting, glancing over to the wall behind the bed before backing away. But she could see his eyes were open, searching everywhere he could while kissing her and turning her around.

At her ear, he breathed, “Make a lot of noise. I need it for cover. Don’t ever stop talking.”

Make noise. What the hell should she say?

“Talk sexy to me, Francesca.” He guided her to the bed and pushed her on it. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me, baby. I’ll get a raincoat.”

Talk sexy. Make a lot of noise. Of course, she was speechless and frozen like a statue.

Some freaking spy she made.

Leaving her on the bed, he backed against a wall and was slyly scanning the room, probably on the off chance there was a camera. Abandoning that, he threw her a look that said everything. Do it, Chessie. Play the part. Be a spy. Be my partner.


And all she wanted in the whole world was to prove herself to him. And, maybe, to herself.

Kneeling on the lumpy mattress, she fingered the bottom of her T-shirt. “I can’t wait for you to strip me,” she said, inching the shirt up provocatively.

“Oh yeah. I’m going to strip you.” But he was digging through his duffel bag, feeling around, carefully pulling out clothes and shaking them.

“Oh yeah, hurry up, baby.” Hurry up, baby? She was going down as the worst dirty-talker ever. What the hell would Gabe do? Gabe would go all-in and fry his partner’s ears.

“I want you to f*ck me, hard.”

Mal whipped his head up, eyes wide at the words. She saw his mouth slacken ever so slightly. His eyes flickered with encouragement, and then he went back to work.

Okay, dirty talk. Dirty talk. “I…I…want you…” Hopefully, whoever was listening or watching didn’t speak English.

Unless they were CIA.

Oh God. What if Gabe saw this? Well, he’d say she was doing her job in the field. That she came from a family of badasses and…deserved to bear the Rossi name.

“I want your mouth all over me. Licking. Sucking.” She closed her eyes, slowly pulled her top off so she could finger her nipples over her bra. “Everywhere, Mal. Right here.”