Page 12 of Hell and High Water

Rising up onto my toes, his length slides between the apex of my thighs, making me gasp as he slips along my folds.

“Towel?” It comes out as a garbled moan, and he snatches one off the rack, wrapping me in it, softly patting me dry while we keep kissing, pulling at one another’s lips.

It takes every ounce of willpower to pull away and step out of the tub.

But then he’s beside me again, and I prance in a circle, letting him dry me off like I’m his queen and he’s my servant. He raises one eyebrow, like he can read my thoughts.

“Oh, yeah? Just like that?”

“Just like this.” I slip out of his reach, planting my hands on the door frame and bending over, spreading my ass for him to see.

Toweling himself off, he follows, reaching for me, but I dodge, slipping out into the hallway along the loft walkway. Leading him to the banister, I turn, resting my ass against it and beckoning him with one finger.

With a firm, smooth motion, he cups my ass and lifts me onto the rail, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

“Don’t let me fall…”

“I’ve already fallen…”

“Cheesy.” I kiss him, grinning like a fool. The tip of him brushes up against me, gliding along my soaked, slick opening. “Oh…” I flinch, my abs clenching slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, but maybe we should go lie down instead…” I eye the bedroom, wagging my eyebrows. No way I am going to let this moment slip by, wounded or not.

“Good idea,” he rumbles, setting me down and pulling me into another kiss, diving deep into my mouth with his tongue, sending pangs of desire rocketing down into my feet and tingling into my scalp.

We’re a second from rushing into the bedroom when we hear the door slam shut, the two of us going stock still, our eyes bugging.

“Hey, what the fuck are you guys up to?”

3

EVAN

“This is fucking stupid.”

“No… you know what's fucking stupid is that you're gonna blow our cover if you keep saying shit like that.” Tell glowers at me over the rim of his ridiculous shades. The bar is noisy, crowded. No one is likely to hear us.

Still.

I frown, losing a bit of my composure.

“Yeah, keep doing that.”

“What?”

“Looking like you want to kick my ass. That’s so in character.”

“Eat shit.” Performance, acting. It usually doesn’t get to me, but Tell has a special way of getting under my skin.

“Sure thing. Just as soon as you get your shit together, Evan,” he hisses under his breath.

“Then maybe don't call me that, asshat. Call me… ‘Remus’ or whatever the hell my bullshit cover name is.”

“Hey, there you go! You’re getting the hang of things. Also, maybe you just shut your mouth and act tough and our names won’t matter.”

“I’ll shut your mouth.”

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