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It was right when she’d finished soaping her face that Indy heard the door smash open.
She screamed behind the shower curtain, desperately rubbing her eyes, backpedaling towards the back wall of the oversized shower stall, knowing she needed to get down before they started shooting.
Obviously it was another wet-team, and if they were breaking in here it meant Ice was already dead.
A splinter of sudden grief stabbed her heart, but her body was panicking too hard for it to linger. She blinked away the soap-burn from her eyes, slid down to the floor of the shower stall, stayed low as the shadowy figure that had blasted through the door lumbered towards the shower curtain.
Frantically Indy looked for a weapon. She cursed herself for not bringing a gun into the bathroom with her. Then she cursed Ice for being so overconfident in his own ability to protect her that he didn’t remind her to take a weapon into the bathroom in case somebody overpowered his macho ass and got to her while she was naked and vulnerable.
There was nothing sharp or hard in the shower stall. Indy’s heart sank so suddenly she almost blacked out. A rush of hopelessness hit her. A flash of despairing grief ripped through her again.
It said that if Ice was dead she was dead too.
Maybe it said that if Ice was dead, Indywantedto be dead too.
Her eyes burned again as she blinked herself back from that sickening pit of despair. She was still alive. For some reason that dark figure hadn’t started shooting or stabbing yet. Strange, because Indy could have sworn he’d entered with a knife in one hand and a gun in the other.
Puzzled, Indy squinted through the steam and suds, then frowned when the shadowy figure placed his weapons on the marble countertop near the sink, then slowly turned to face the shower curtain, putting his hands on his hips and standing there like a sentinel.
A naked sentinel, Indy realized as she got a brief glimpse of the man’s silhouette in profile as he turned.
A profile which had an unmistakably erect appendage standing proudly upright, a weapon perhaps more deadly than what this moronic asshole of an idiotic sonofabitch piece of shit lunatic madman had been wielding when hebrokethe fucking bathroom door andstormedinto her private space like some insane stupid predatory narcissistic violently insane psycho killer.
“You havegotto be kidding me!” Indy screeched through gritted teeth as she peeked out past the edge of the shower curtain and saw the surreally magnificent and terrifyingly beautiful sight of Ice standing there naked and erect in nothing but his damn sunglasses which were steamed over and dripping with beads of condensation. “Are you fuckinginsane?”
“Do you want me to leave?” came his cool response from behind those steamed-up sunglasses. “Maybe I read this wrong.”
“Maybeyou read this wrong?” Indy sputtered out some soap-bubbles. “In what insane lunatic Madhatter world doesanyonereadanythinglike this fromanythingI said or did?!”
Ice shrugged those big bare shoulders, lazy grin hanging on his face. “You know where to find me. You said that.” He shrugged again. “That was a pretty clear invitation.”
Indy blinked away some shampoo from her lashes, wiped her nose, stared in wide-eyed disbelief, doing her best to keep her angry gaze on his face and not let her eyes get dragged down to that prominent erection which was shockingly thick and monstrously large and staring right up at her, its bulbous red head looking suspiciously like it was grinning just like its narcissistic maddening infuriating exhilarating beast of an owner.
“It wasnotan invitation,” she declared with as much firmness as she could find in her hot wet body with the steamy showerheads spitting and snarling like dragons behind her. “Mostlydefinitelynot an invitation.”
Ice stroked his jaw thoughtfully, his big bare feet firmly planted on the marble floor, his big bare cock still grinning shamelessly at her.
“So you want me to leave?” Ice asked, crossing his arms over his chest now, making absolutely no move to turn away from her, certainly no move to leave the bathroom. That lazy grin still hung on his annoyingly handsome face, his steam shrouded body oozing coolness and control even though Indy was pretty sure Ice couldn’t see a darn thing through those misted-up sunglasses. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”
“Leave.” Indy sputtered the word abruptly, all her willpower focused on pretending to stay angry and keeping her gaze fixed on his face, not his chillingly chiseled chest, not his ridiculously ridged abdomen, not his perfectly positioned pelvis, and certainly not that tantalizingly tempting tree-trunk of a cock. “Leave,” she managed to mumble out again, desperately trying to stay composed even as she felt herself unravelling from the inside out, sensed the wetness within her snaking its way out, felt the heat inside building hotter than the steam from those hissing showerheads. “I want you to leave. So please leave.”
Ice’s left eyebrow raised itself above the rim of his shades, then disappeared again behind the dark lens when he shrugged those big shoulders and shook that grinning head.
“No,” he said calmly, his arms resting in that crossed position, cock bobbing like it was taunting her, teasing her, tormenting her.
“No?” Indy gaped like a goldfish, not sure how to respond. “What do you mean,no?”
Ice shrugged again. “It’s obvious. The answer is no.”
“It wasn’t a damn question.” Indy’s grip on the shower curtain tightened involuntarily. The curtain moved on the rail, revealing the edge of her steam-soaked breast and a whole lot of curvy hip. She hurriedly pulled the curtain back in place, but not before she saw Ice’s throat move as he gulped, sensed his cock throb in a way that was not intentional, not voluntary, not under his control.
Just like there were things happening within Indy’s body that were most certainly not under her control.
The wetness between her legs wasn’t water. The stickiness coating her pussy wasn’t shampoo. The rapid heartbeat wasn’t fear. That desperate breathing wasn’t from danger.
Notthatkind of danger anyway.
A different kind of danger.