Beyond the Call of Duty by Wendy Stone

into his hair, groaning in pleasure as he slid his hand down her body. “No, Gabe. You’ve got to let me up.”
    “Why?” he groaned, poking his tongue at her hard nipple.
    “They can’t find us like this. Let me up.”
    “I don’t want to,” he moaned. He teased at her other nipple with his hand, ignoring her small gasp. “You don’t want me to, either.”
    “I may not want you to, but you have to. Come on,” she urged, pressing against his shoulders.
    * * * *
    She’d have grabbed his head, but his teeth were doing incredibly sensual things to her nipples, and she was having a hard time holding onto her determination to stop him.
    She finally took hold of his chin, pulling his face up to take his lips in hers. Kissing him made her even more anxious to touch him, to make him cum in her body or in her mouth or even in her hand. She heard him moan and felt him move between her thighs, his hard cock pressing against her bare loins. She moved her fingernails over his back and across his thighs and he pressed even harder against her.
    His lips were hot and, even though he was still partially asleep, very nimble against her own. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, and the sound of his pleasure sent a thrill of bliss through her.
    “Roll over, Gabe,” she managed to mumble between his heated kisses.
    He rolled, but he hung on to her, parting her thighs so she was straddling him. When she finally managed to grab his hands and hold them in her own next to his head, she was panting, and the need to take him inside her was an almost unbearable ache.
    She pushed herself off him and watched him roll to his side, grabbing the pillow his head had been on and pulling it into his arms to cuddle.
    “Dammit, Gabe,” she whispered, breathing hard through her mouth. She went to the closet, opening it and pulling out a bathrobe amid the clothes left there. It was thick and warm, soaking up the few drops of water still left on her body.
    He was asleep, his eyelashes thick and lying against his cheeks. His breath came from his parted lips, and his cheeks were flushed. He looked younger, even with the stubble of his whiskers dark on his cheeks. She pushed a lock of his hair off his forehead, smiling when he mumbled her name in his sleep.
    He was dangerous. He was like a sleek predator, a shark in the turbulent waters of her life. He could take her under with one bite and leave her bleeding and alone. Jobless because of her personal relationship with him, he could leave her with nothing.
    However, the hard part was, despite her feelings, especially hearing the words he spoke earlier, she couldn’t walk away.
    She sighed again and sank down next to him on the mattress. “I love you, too, Gabe,” she breathed against his cheek. “I’ll just never be able to tell you.”

Chapter Eight
    The room was dark when Gabe woke. He could still smell the sweet scent she wore on her wet skin, but he was alone now. He rolled across the bed, his arm outstretched, his fingers searching for Lexi.
    He sighed heavily, breathing deeply, letting her scent infuse his senses. He sat up and pushed the covers off his legs and, holding one arm over his stomach, got up and went in to the bathroom.
    It smelled even more like Lexi in there, and he could see the towels hung neatly on the towel bar after her shower. He used the toilet, and then stood in front of the mirror over the sink, rasping his hand over the whiskers that were quickly turning into an unruly beard.
    He hadn’t had a completely clean-shaven face since high school. The thought of shaving now appealed to him, and he began to look around in the bathroom, finding shaving cream, razors, a small pair of scissors and a towel.
    Moving around caused him to start shaking, and he sank down on the closed toilet. He drank a cup of water and took slow, even breaths. After a few moments, he felt better and went back to the mirror, picking up the scissors and making the first cuts before he could change