Page 87 of Marc
The creature had been codenamed a bane.
After my adventures in the Blue Mountains, I was more than happynotto think about monsters this week.
One of the other Talon pilots, freshly showered and changed, walked out of the locker room.
“Hi, Colbie. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Susanna.”
The locker room was empty. I’d take a quick shower, change, then get home.
I was reaching for the zipper of my flight suit when strong arms wrapped around me from behind. With a gasp, I was tugged back against a hard body.
Warm lips nipped my ear. “Hello, dove.”
I melted into him. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t wait for you to get home.” He nipped my ear lobe. “How was your flight?”
Flight? What flight? All I could think about was him. “Fine.”
“Missed you,” he murmured.
For a man who’d avoided love and romantic relationships most of his life, he was making up for it.
I arched into him. “Marc…”
He heard the need in my voice.
With a low growl, he whirled me around and lifted me off my feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He stalked across the locker room and kicked open a door.
I got a glimpse of a cramped, storage closet before he bumped the door closed behind us.
Then he pressed me against the wall. His mouth was on my neck, and I slid my hands into his hair.
Yes.
A second later, his lips were on mine. I moaned into the kiss.
His hands roamed up my body, then he was dragging down the zipper on the front of my flight suit.
“Marc, I need to shower?—”
“No, you don’t.” He shoved my suit down my arms, uncovering my tank top. I rocked into him, desire flaring all over. A rough hand shoved my tank top and bra up, then his hot mouth was on my breast.
I cried out, my legs cinching hard around his body. He growled, tugging on my nipple. I felt the hard bulge of his cock between my thighs.
Then he unwound my legs, my feet dropping to the floor. I only stayed upright thanks to the wall. He shoved my flight suit down my legs.
“Shorts and panties off, dove.” His voice was low and husky.
I hurried to obey, need shivering through me.
Marc lifted me, slamming my back to the wall at the same time that I wrapped my legs around his waist again. His mouth was back on mine, and our tongues danced. One of his hands slipped between my thighs, stroked. I whimpered.
“My flygirl’s wet for me.”
“Always,” I panted, tugging his bottom lip between my teeth.
