He was staring at her, with those dark, penetrating eyes, as if he wanted her to feel his own need in his every touch. He wanted her to know his own desire was driving what he was doing, Margo got that. She felt it.
And when he dipped his hand lower between her legs, she almost shot out of her wet skin. He had opened his fingers and was using them to spread her before inserting one inside. Her head dropped to his shoulder when he began rotating that finger inside of her, making every bone in her body tremble.
“Striker...”
He whispered in her ear, “I’m going to lift you up, and when I do, wrap your legs around me, Margo.”
Effortlessly he lifted her off her feet and, as he’d told her to do, she wrapped her legs around him, nearly screaming in pleasure when she felt the hardness of his erection slide into her. He was supporting her backside with his hands and stepped away from the spray of water to the shower wall. She felt the cold tile at her back, but what really had her attention was Striker and how he’d begun thrusting in and out of her hard. She couldn’t help but moan.
His mouth captured hers, the play of his tongue silencing her. He was deliberately going slowly around her mouth, licking and sucking areas with skill that made her want him even more than she already did. To retaliate, she clamped her feminine muscles around him and began squeezing, milking him until he was the one moaning. She had no problems showing Striker that two could play his game.
He jerked his mouth away and stared at her, holding her gaze as his thrusts increased, went deeper, pounded harder and pushed her beyond physical satisfaction of the most intense kind.
“It’s crazy, but I can’t get enough of you,” Striker said huskily, showing her exactly what he meant with each and every thrust.
Margo knew this was crazy, but at the moment it was necessary. When had a man making love to her become so crucial? And then he threw his head back and released a growl unlike anything she’d ever heard. But she felt it, all the way to the bone. Was she imagining things or had his erection just expanded inside of her? It made her feel so full of him. And that was when she lost it.
She screamed when an orgasm struck her, and she began trembling so much he had to tighten his hold on her. Omigod. This was unreal. She’d thought last night was pretty damn amazing, but today, right now in this shower, with her back against the wall and Striker relentlessly pounding into her, was definitely off the charts.
Margo screamed again, and in seconds Striker’s mouth was there, taking hers, using his tongue to again kiss her in ways she hadn’t known a woman could be kissed. She felt them moving as he edged them over to the spray of water. He slowly eased out of her and slid her body down his tall, hard frame, all while their mouths remained connected. If they were going to drown then, this was the best way to go.
*
STRIKER DIDN’T UNDERSTAND why he couldn’t get enough of Margo’s kisses or her entire body, for that matter. It was as if he was in a Margo Zone. It was crazy but so damn pleasurable. While inside of her he’d felt all her muscles and had loved each and every time they had squeezed down on him.
They needed to get out the shower, dry off and get dressed. He’d asked Quasar for a two-hour extension on breakfast and Quay was always on time. But for the life of him, Striker wanted to go another round with her. He reached up and turned off the water, thinking there would always be tonight. He knew this shower thing should be one and done, but he had a feeling it was just the beginning. And that wasn’t good.
After opening the shower door, he grabbed the towels. His gaze roamed over Margo before settling between her legs. Studying the beauty of the curls covering her womanhood, he remembered how, last night, he’d parted her there, tasted her clitoris with his tongue.
“Let me help dry you off,” Margo said.
Striker didn’t have a problem with that, even though he was setting himself up for more torture. “Only if you let me return the favor,” he said, thinking of all the scenarios that could lead to.
At that moment his phone rang. He picked it up off the vanity and saw he’d missed three calls from Stonewall. Damn, he hoped nothing had gone down while he was in the shower with Margo. He clicked on the phone. “Stonewall, what’s up?”
“Your ass if you aren’t careful. I thought you were going to take a shower.”
“I did. Just getting out.”
“That was a damn long shower, Striker, and I can guess why. I suggest you hurry and get dressed. Quasar is on his way.”
Striker had figured as much. “Okay, Quasar is on his way. Why the rush?”
“Roland is following him over there.”
“Shit. He shouldn’t be driving around while recovering from a damn gunshot wound.”
“Yeah, that’s what I say. He showed up unexpectedly, coming straight from the physician’s office. His doctor restored his driving rights and, knowing Roland, I’m sure that means he plans to hang around here a lot. However, first on his agenda was to make sure Ms. Connelly is okay. I suggest the two of you get dressed and plaster innocent smiles on your faces when Roland arrives. I think you know why I say the word innocent.”
He was tempted to tell Stonewall to go to hell but knew Margo was listening to his conversation and she probably wouldn’t like it. Besides, Stonewall was right. He needed to get dressed quickly. They both did. “Thanks for the call.”
He clicked off the phone and turned to Margo, who was coming toward him with a towel. “Rain check,” he said, taking the thick velour towel from her. “We need to get dressed ASAP. Quasar is on his way and he has my boss with him.”
“I thought you said your boss was just feeling under the weather. Why didn’t you tell me he’d gotten shot?”
Striker shrugged. “At the time I didn’t want to go into detail.” No need to tell her the panic he’d gone through when Roland had been shot. The thought of almost losing him was something he didn’t want to think about. For Striker, Quasar and Stonewall, Roland was like an older brother. He’d been there for them when they had no one else. Shep, who’d been inside with them, had suggested that, after they’d gotten out of the slammer, they spend time with Reverend Luther Thomas, who dedicated his life to helping ex-cons get acclimated back into society as easily as possible with strong, positive influences. They had met Roland through Reverend Thomas.
“I still want details,” Margo interrupted his thoughts to say. “So what happened?”
He released a resigned sigh and then answered, “It was an attempted carjacking.”
“Oh. Did the police catch the person?”
“They haven’t yet. I guess they’re too busy trying to nab a hit man.”
“Well, at least I’ll finally get to meet your boss,” she said as she continued to dry off.
Striker wrapped the towel around his middle while wishing she could finally meet Roland another time. Now, as far as he was concerned, was lousy timing.
*
“DR. FULLER, WE’RE GLAD you decided to rejoin us.”
Randi glanced around the room knowing Special Agent Felton did not mean what he’d said. But she knew without being told that he had come under fire for not taking her findings seriously before. Most of the people in this room had. And because of their disregard, more lives had been lost. Now they would work with the devil himself if it meant catching a demented killer.
“So what additional clues do you have?” she asked Chief Harkins as she sat down at the table.
“As you’ve heard, the assassin struck down two people. Another juror and one of our federal prosecutors. We need to stop him before he hits again.”
She shook her head. “Too late. He already has.”