The Executioner (Professionals 10)

“Fine,” Shawn said, sighing. “I’ll take the couch.”

“You could,” I agreed from the kitchen. “But then I’d just have to carry you upstairs to the bed later,” I said, getting a sideways look from her. But she must have realized the truth in my words because, with a grumble, she turned and made her way upstairs.

I finished cleaning up and checking the locks before making my way up to the loft as well.

It wasn’t much to write home about.

There was a king-sized bed against the wall on a solid metal frame with no headboard. But there were several thick, warm blankets, enough pillows, and a fireplace to keep us warm if we needed it.

I planned to go ahead and keep warm the old-fashioned way.

Shawn was already in the bed, under one of the covers. Her jeans were on the ground in a corner along with her bra, making me entirely too curious to get in there with her to see if she’d put pajamas on, or if she was in her panties and a tee… and nothing else.

I tossed my wallet toward the empty side of the bed before slipping out of my jacket. Then my shirt. My shoes, then my slacks. Leaving me in a pair of black boxer briefs and not a damn thing else.

She tried to shut her eyes like she hadn’t been watching, but I’d felt her gaze on me as I undressed.

Anticipation was flooding my system as I made my way toward the bed. Because, as we’d proven thus far, it was nearly impossible for us to be near each other without things turning physical. And if you were going to be trapped in the woods with someone you had proven chemistry with, why the hell would you ever want to deny yourselves the pleasure of spending a fair chunk of your time together in bed?

I got under the blankets, lowering until I was flat, suddenly cursing the fact that the bed was as big as it was.

Note to self: the next time I needed to provide a bed in a safe house, it needed to be a queen or smaller.

It wasn’t too long, though, after Shawn had fallen asleep that she gravitated toward my warmth, making me glad I hadn’t started the fire for ambiance. Maybe half an hour after that, she was completely draped over me—her head in the crook of my neck, her arm resting on my shoulder, her leg cocked up over my waist.

She’d opted for panties and a tee.

Which was why she was cold.

Not that I was complaining, though.

My arms slid around her, one at her upper and one at her lower back.

It felt better than I’d been expecting to hold her. It was why I’d spooned her on the plane. There was just some sort of pull inside me to do so.

I mean, sure, it wasn’t like I kicked a woman out of bed after sex. And sometimes they got ideas about cuddling. I wasn’t a complete asshole. I didn’t shove them away from me. But I’d also never initiated it either.

Not until Shawn.

I couldn’t tell you where the drive came from, but I suspected there was something about the idea of a woman as hard and cold and distant as she was being soft and warm and close.

That was exactly what Shawn was as she slept in my arms.

But when I woke up, she wasn’t asleep anymore, though.

Her hand was tracing over a scar right above my heart, whisper-soft.

My cock was rock-hard before my eyes even opened. And, I realized, must have been hard for a while because before she realized I was awake, Shawn’s hips were doing the tiniest of rocking motions, making me painfully aware that her pussy was pressed against my hard length. And I’d somehow managed to sleep through God-knew how long of her getting herself wet and ready on me.

“Fell on a rock,” I told her as my hands slid down her back slowly.

Against me, she tensed, but didn’t try to pull away.

“What?”

“That scar. Not as interesting as some of the others. I was going across a river using the rocks sticking out of the water. Slipped and fell,” I told her.

“On an adventure or for work?” she asked.

“Work,” I told her, finding I didn’t stiffen at that admission like I might have in the past. That part of my life was a bit like a festering wound. It hurt when you even tried to poke around the edges of it. Somehow, though, it didn’t bother me when Shawn did it.

Maybe that was because she had her own darkness, her own past that had spurred her to become what she was now. A killer. Like me.

My hands paused for a long moment at her lower back before swooping down and sinking into her ass, crushing her more tightly against me as I shifted her more fully over me.