Free Love Me Twice by Roz Lee

channel. A hoarse cry escaped her throat, and her blood-red fingertips moved to her clit. A fingernail scraped his groin.
    “Shit.” Drew pulled away and plunged into her again, hard. He set a rhythm, and Bree met him thrust for thrust. Her fingers worked her clit like a harpist, tweaking and stroking, building to a crescendo.
    Drew wrapped his arms around her legs, imprisoning her. He dragged her to the edge of the desk so he could go deeper. He’d never needed to be inside a woman the way he needed to be inside her. He jerked her body against his in a futile effort to go deeper. Her inner muscles twitched, and he clenched his teeth against his rising orgasm. He wouldn’t finish without her. He might be a son-of-a-bitch for fucking her on a desk, but he could damn sure hold off until she found satisfaction too.
    Her body tensed. The eruption, like an undersea earthquake, shook him to his toes. Her pussy clenched around his cock. She folded herself against him, and he let her legs go so he could wrap his arms around her. Her teeth clamped on his shoulder, and he lost what little control he still had. He slammed his hips against her, and held her against him as his cock answered her earthquake with a tsunami that threatened to sweep them both out to sea.
    Drew clenched his jaw against something inside he couldn’t name, didn’t want to name. Naming it would give it too much significance. He allowed himself a silent stream of curses as her bare feet slid off the edge of the desk, down his hips and thighs, and dangled next to his knees. He dropped his arms, and with his hands at her waist, lifted her away from him. He settled her on the desk and picked up their clothing.
    He tossed her wrap in her general direction and fastened his around his hips, discarding the condom with practiced efficiency. Without a backward glance, Drew left her sitting in the otherworldly glare of the security monitors, alone.
    Drew took the service stairs up one deck to the aft kitchen. His shoulder stung where she’d bitten him. He touched the area with light fingers and found small indentations where her teeth had sunk into his flesh and muscle. Damn. If it didn’t go away, he’d be wearing a shirt for the next few days. Normally that wouldn’t raise eyebrows, but on the Lothario , it certainly would. He grabbed a kitchen towel and slung it over his shoulder as he made his way through to the crew deck beyond.
    The aft crew deck was mostly deserted. Few crew members were off duty at this time of night. Besides the obvious, this was the time a lot of behind the scenes work took place. Beds were turned down, laundry done, dishes washed, trash sorted and burned, to name a few. It was just as well. He wasn’t fit company.
    He leaned against the railing. This was as close as you could get to the waterline and the giant screws that propelled the ship. The roar of churning water was deafening, making conversation impossible. Just what he needed. He stared beyond the reach of light from the upper decks, to the ink black ocean. What the hell happened back there? One minute he’d been obsessing over what Sean was doing with Celeste, and the next he was fucking another woman.
    Not just any woman. Agent Bree Stanton. Fuck .
    Last night, she’d been simply another passenger, another way to pass the time, a way to forget Celeste was onboard. Her red hair had attracted him from the start, and she’d been soft and willing in bed. Nothing like the explosive fireball he’d screwed on the desktop. He’d wanted her from the moment she opened the door to the security office and stood there, outlined by the hall lighting. But she wasn’t for him.
    He loved Celeste. Always had. That didn’t mean his anatomy ceased operation though. Clearly, his cock hadn’t gotten the message about Celeste. In less than twelve hours, she would be his again, for a whole day before he had to turn her over to Sean again. Insanity. The whole thing was insane—bouncing Celeste