His back hurt like fuck. Like someone had taken a blowtorch to it. Throb, throb, throb, in time with the motion of the train. Molly slipped her hand into his, and he took a deep breath of relief that she was still alive, that they had escaped death by virtue of tipping a bellboy to bring the car around.
He looked down at their clasped hand and a coldness trickled down his spine. There was something else in there too. He met her eyes, which looked as though wariness and pain were weighing her down. Hooking his finger under the paper between their hands, he slowly dragged it into his lap.
It was one, no two small envelopes. One had been opened. They had her name on them, small enough to be a florist’s card. He opened the flap as she looked away. Inside was a small card.
Stamov extraction.
He was pretty sure Stamov was the Russian finance minister, and he suspected that his “extraction” wasn’t referring to a visit to the dentist. He flipped the card over. The other side was blank.
What was a State Department employee doing contacting a foreign minister through a civilian? And why was he leaking what would probably be classified information?
He opened the other note.
Andropov extraction.
He thought Andropov was the Russian prime minister—yeah, that rang a bell.
He gave them back to Molly and took her hand again. They’d talk later. Much later, when no one was listening.
So the Russians were telling everyone that they were under attack from the US. Someone in the US government was warning them that it was true, and now someone was after Molly and David. At least he knew why, now. Someone very definitely didn’t want Molly to give that note to someone in the Russian government. And that was either the CIA or…Fuck. He couldn’t get his head wrapped around it.
Not that he necessarily trusted the CIA to do what was right in any given situation. He’d met too many intelligence officers in Afghanistan who were downright sketchy most of the time. But take down a government by picking people off? Unlikely.
The train terminated at the port city of Piraeus, where Molly took out five hundred euros and then paid for a one-way ticket to Cyprus, which was the farthest island served by the ferries. The ferry would leave just about the time they got back on the metro to return to Athens. It was a good plan, if he said so himself. It would keep anyone from following them and getting them in a pickle. Another Mal-ism. It would keep from getting them in a shit-ton of trouble.
They caught the train back to Monastiraki, which was the main tourist area of Athens. Much easier to blend in there. When they emerged from the station, it was dusk, and the partiers had come out to play. Throngs of people ambled in the street, so he adopted their pace and walked with his arm wrapped around Molly’s shoulders like so many other couples.
He found a hotel in a graffitied backstreet, just a few doors down from a basement “adult” sex shop. The hotel lobby was clean and well furnished, looking more like a boutique hotel than the façade would have suggested. They checked in using cash and fake names, and eventually were given a key to a room on the third floor. The elevator took an age to come, and when it did they got in silently.
“What did…?” Molly started to say.
He placed his finger on her lips and then claimed them in a kiss. Just for appearances. Just in case there was an elevator security camera. Yeah right.
A bolt of longing, need, and relief wrapped itself around his heart as she rose on her sneakered tiptoes and leaned into the kiss. Despite everything that had happened, this degree of need took him by surprise.
The door pinged loudly as it opened, echoing around the small space. Molly jerked away from the kiss, looking mussed and flustered, but there was no one there. No one in the short corridor either. He grabbed her hand, wanting to get a lockable door between them and the world as fast as possible.
As soon as the door swung shut on them, he lifted her up by her hips, finding her mouth again with his, because there were no words for what had happened. She kissed him back with a ferocity that lit a fire inside him.
He wanted to rip her clothes off, but he didn’t know how long she could wear the sundress alone, how long they would be there, so instead he put her back on the floor and carefully, with shaking hands, undid the buttons of her blouse.
She batted his hands away and whipped the silky thing off over her head. The beige lace of her bra made her seem naked for a second. He trailed the backs of his hand lightly over her arms. Her skin was warm, alive to his touch. Alive. Thank God they hadn’t evaporated into the night air in the car. He shook his head for a second to clear the image of the explosion, but instead his brain took him to his friend Danny, who’d been blown up in Iraq. They’d been dicking around…until they hadn’t. Until Danny was gone forever. And they could have been too.
Molly took his face in her hands and he was back with her, yet overwhelmed with the euphoria of being alive. He tried to rein in his impulse to crush her to him, but when she looked in his eyes, she must have seen something. She stepped back and unzipped her charred skirt. In a second she’d wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him to her mouth.
Proof of life had never felt so good.
“I need you now,” she murmured against his lips.
The lady didn’t need to ask again. He sat her on the small dresser next to the window and yanked off her panties. He shoved his own pants down and her hand reached for him while she was wriggling to the edge so she could get closer.
She drew him to her, but he took her hand away and put it behind her so she was leaning back. He ran the tip of his dick over her clit, watching as her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth dropped open.
His body blazed with a need to consume her. He pushed into her in one hard stroke. Heat shot through his balls into the base of his spine. He was going to last no time at all…
He held himself in place, feeling her body pulse around him. “Maybe someone’s watching us through the window,” he said. “Do you want me to open the curtains a little farther?”
She started for a second and then relaxed, her breathing kicking up as she twitched around his dick. She gazed into his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
It was all fantasy, the window faced a wall, but he pulled the net curtains open, flicking them across her back as he did. “Take your bra off.”
She didn’t hesitate, she unfastened it, and allowed it to fall to the floor.
He pulled out of her slowly and grabbed her legs, swiveling her so she was lying across the dresser, giving the wall, and her fantasy, a better view.
He bent over her and dragged a nipple into his mouth. He held it between his teeth and flicked his tongue over its hardness.
His dick strained up, and he was thankful that she was in no position to grab it. He had no idea if he’d be able to hold it together if she did.
Her head fell back, and he wondered for a second if she was imagining someone else watching them. The thought sent waves of arousal through him that took him by surprise.
He gently bit her other nipple and plunged his hand between her legs. Jesus Christ she was so wet. So fucking wet. He dipped his head to her and ran his tongue and fingers over her clit.
Her legs dropped open to give him more access. He’d never been with a woman so open to his touch, so comfortable with her sexuality. It nearly blew his mind that she was his. He knew there was some mental correction to do there, but his mind was consumed with the taste of her. His dick ached to be inside her again. Literally throbbed to feel her hot and wet around him.