Page 21 of Classified (The Elite 3)

“Yeah? Well, I’m surprised they let you in one, period.”

Whiplash eyed the man beside her, a smile on her glossed-up lips, and it was clear from the dopey expression on Houdini’s face who the boss was between these two. “You feeling a little bit ganged up on, lover?” she asked.

Oh God. Houdini was gonna lose his lunch over Panther and me, but I wasn’t far behind thinking of him in that role.

A sentiment Panther clearly shared. “If you don’t mind, Whiplash, the last thing I need you to do is get him wound up.”

She flashed us an unrepentant grin. “Okay,” she said, then turned back to Houdini. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

I rolled my eyes and looked to Panther as I feigned gagging, and when he grinned, I returned the smile. This felt good, being out with him like this. It felt natural to joke around with Whiplash and Houdini. When I turned back to face them, Whiplash had slipped her hand around her man’s arm.

“As for your question of why I ended up with Houdini, I find it odd that you, of all people, have to ask.”

The fuck? Why would I know anything more than anybody else? It wasn’t like I was tallying up Houdini’s good points. Did the guy even have any?

My expression must have relayed my confusion, because Whiplash started to laugh, a relaxed, easygoing chuckle that made me arch an eyebrow.

“He’s persistent. I figured if anyone could understand how that could break someone’s walls down, it would be you.” She turned her attention to the man beside me. “It’s also insanely sexy to be so ruthlessly pursued, right, Panther?”

Panther’s grin was slow and sensual, and holy hell it did insane things to my insides. My heart raced, my stomach flipped, and when he answered, “Oh yeah, totally sexy,” I looked at Whiplash, who was kissing her way along Houdini’s jaw.

“You two mind taking the rest of this food to go?” Panther squeezed his hand on my thigh, and I added, “Fuck it,” pulled out two twenty-dollar bills, and tossed them on the table. “I don’t need the extra calories.”

We all slipped out of the booth and headed for the door, getting somewhere in private the only thing on all of our minds now.

Houdini looked over the hood of his Jeep to where I stood by Panther and his bike. “You two gonna be at the pool party tomorrow night?”

Panther nodded, and that was all he managed before my mouth was on his and I heard Houdini and Whiplash pulling the doors shut on the car. As they backed out and sped off, I whispered, “Meet you back at base?”

Panther reached for his helmet. “You bet. Oh, and Solo?”

“Yeah,” I said as I backed away toward my bike. “Make sure to bring that long, thick pencil of yours. We might need it to make a list of things to buy for that pool party tomorrow.”

17 Solo

“I’M GONNA RUN to the store and grab some Heineken for the pool later,” I called out, loud enough that Panther could hear me over the running shower. “Want anything?”

“Yeah,” he yelled back. “Lube.”

I smirked as I wrapped my leather band around my wrist and then stuck my head inside the bathroom. “Are we out already? It’s only been two days.”

Panther pulled open the curtain, and a billow of steam escaped, briefly obscuring the satisfied grin on his face. “Someone’s insatiable.”

“Mmm,” I said, following the streams of water trailing down his neck. I wanted to lick them. Get him dirty all over again. “Make that two someones.”

As I stepped into the bathroom, Panther laughed. “You sure you’re going out and not joining me instead?”

“It’s your fault. You shouldn’t be so fucking tempting.” I brushed my lips against his, the spray behind him misting my hair, but I didn’t give two shits. I’d already showered, but fuck it; I could use another one if that meant rubbing down Panther.

My phone, of course, chose that moment to ring at top volume, making me groan.

“Get it,” he murmured, then gave me one last kiss. “Then hurry back.”

I sighed and reached for the phone in my pocket as I backed away. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Sure you will.”

“Ten. Time me.” I grabbed my sunglasses on the way out as I assured Gucci over the phone that I’d make sure to grab some extra limes for the pool party—something that was beginning to be a weekly occurrence with the other trainees.

It was a two-minute walk to the store, and it didn’t take much longer for me to scrounge up the few items I needed. Beer, limes, lube. If that didn’t scream I’d be having a good time later, I didn’t know what would.

As I finished tying off the bag of limes so they wouldn’t go flying everywhere, I heard a throat clear behind me. “Lieutenant Morgan.”

---