“Let’s roll,” he said, leaving all the enthusiastic reunion greetings after their trek back from danger to Quicksilver.
Subsequently, Ric kept silent as he and Tallgrass stowed their gear in the army Jeep.
I was happy to have even this rough ride after hoofing it through Juarez to the desert killing ground both old and new, and for a rest for Quicksilver’s pads.
My dog leaped into the backseat with me, wanting to sniff noses to gauge my state of “okay.” Smart guy. He knew Ric and I were not speaking. He’d acted fast to join forces with me and delay any messy public scenes, such as harsh words spoken in front of Ric’s mentor.
If Tallgrass sensed any forthcoming fireworks, he was too savvy to show it.
The jolting journey back to Juarez postponed chitchat anyway, except for my shouting out the motel address to the GPS on the cell phone Rick wordlessly held up over his shoulder.
“Gadgets,” Tallgrass shouted back to me from the shotgun seat, shaking his head. “Another invention that just ain’t natural.”
But the GPS worked like a magical charm. Within half an hour the Jeep was growling in idle outside the gaudily painted adobe-and-neon facade of the Motel of the Pink Flamingos.
“Get yourself and the dog a room,” Ric told Tallgrass. “I’ll escort Delilah to hers.”
Quick flicked me an inquiring doggie look that meant “should I take this ingrate off at the knees, or let you handle it?”
Ric turned to shoo Quicksilver out. He got a fang brush and throaty growl for his trouble. Quick jumped over the Jeep’s side, high-flagging his tail, the perfect raised third-finger salute, canine-style.
Tallgrass smothered a smile but lifted shaggy eyebrows at me in silent question too. I had to admit I wasn’t looking forward to this solo reunion with Ric after kissing him sweetly good-bye and then heading right down to Juarez anyway.
I shrugged at Tallgrass, so he left the Jeep to do what Ric had said. Ric and I’d never had a serious argument, but I wasn’t about to apologize. I gestured to the right motel door, and, when he parked in front of it, hopped out with my backpack hitched over my shoulder and the room key in hand.
Not looking behind me, I unlocked the painted metal door and went inside first.
Once inside the room, Ric locked the three possibilities: chain lock, bolt lock, and bottom chain lock. You’d think this was a major metropolitan tenement instead of a border motel.
I waited in the center of the small room. Ric turned to me, his face a stone mask of anger carved into Aztec warrior ferocity.
“You! Out of those filthy borrowed camos.”
My heart hiccupped and my own adrenaline surged in a nasty confusion of defiance, anxiety, and excitement tinged with an undeniable sexual edge.
“So,” I answered in a voice as guttural, “you’re pissed at me because I tagged along without official permission, or more important,
I snapped off a mock salute as a muscle in Ric’s cheek pulsed, Clint Eastwood-style.
“Isn’t that a tad hypocritical?” I demanded further. “After all, you and Tallgrass did the same thing to the whole undercover raid unit, and followed your own private mission. To say nothing about the dog, what
He stood there, wide stance braced, glowering.
“So,” I said. “
“With pleasure!”
His hands lifted to undo the top closure, then ripped right through the fastenings to bare his body from throat to hips in one tearing gesture. Speaking of ripped . . . A veil of sweat still glistened on firm pecs nicely accessorized with rock-hard nipples over subtly six-packed abs. The effect was so romance-cover drop-dead, I gulped.
His hands reached for the pants drawstring below his navel, but if I saw one more hard thing I was likely to lose my self-respect and throw myself at his naked, um, feet.
“Stop,” I ordered. “I could say ‘God, you’re beautiful when you’re angry’ but I won’t do fight club sex. It’s an unhealthy distortion of the power exchange between a couple.”
Ric approached me, laughing. “You never miss the nuances.” His fingers toyed with my camo top opening. “Take off these filthy clothes,
“So saying please is going to make me cooperate?”
He took my balled right fist and stroked it down from his collarbone to hip bone. My fingers uncurled at first touch to give my palm a languorous, warm, skin-tingling, undulating ride. “Slowing down will make you see reason.”
“Fine. But I get the shower first.”
I stomped away, bulling through the first shut door I saw. I hoped to God it wasn’t a closet because I dearly needed a dignified exit.
The shower stall was tiny, but tiled, at least. After losing the clothes, I teased a feeble cold stream out of the corroded head. With pipes clanking, it finally worked up a warming gush. And this was a three-star motel in
Something big and bare and dry pushed me face against the shower wall. I wasn’t exactly surprised. I’d already turned my cheek to one side, welcoming the expected full body press. Ric’s thumb streaked the available cheek, his voice even more caressing than his gesture.
“With that tan spray on you remind me of the old Hollywood pinup I encountered on the Inferno’s Lust level, Maria Montez. New look. Almost a new woman,
“Kinda tight in here,” I pointed out.
“Why do you think I came?” His voice went even lower, intimate. “You still made an unauthorized trip across the border. I’m going to have to do a serious body search on you.”
He turned me into his arms. “The mouth is often used to conceal forbidden objects.” His search was thorough and probing. His hands paused on my breasts. “Definitely contraband, requiring careful inspection and attention.”
A pulse between my legs was pounding in rhythm with my heart. We were safe, we were alive, and we were in total sexual sync.
He drew away, resuming his role. “I’m afraid I’ll have to finish up with the standard procedure. Assume the position, face the wall.” He spun me into place.
He pulled my hips far from the wall and pushed the half-damp hair off my neck. In a few seconds I was coming myself, loving his lips, tongue, and teeth doing shivery things to my nape, his pelvis locked and rocking with mine.
“New place, new position,” I agreed, breathing hard.
“Besides, we won’t want to sleep on the bed. There are sanitized sleeping bags in the Jeep. I’ll bring one in. No reason we can’t share.”
“Information too,” I said pointedly, but he was turning me around, pulling me into his arms and the skimpy shower stream. I had to close my eyes again as warm water rinsed my tan-in-a-bottle away and his kisses washed over them.
I think he tasted my tears of joy in the cascading water.
“You like our little game, yes? Why not reverse roles next time. We’re an equal opportunity couple,
