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“Yeah, we definitely don’t want to trigger an alarm,” Brighton adds.
“I can deactivate the alarm,” Ryder interjects. “Hang on while I work some magic.”
My nerves are stretched tight and I feel like I might vomit. “Maybe we should go,” I suggest, but Knox shakes his head and lays a hand on my arm.
“I’ve got this. Trust me.”
I force a nod, but my stomach is a tight ball of nerves, warning me to run. “Knox—”
Suddenly, his hands lift, cupping my face, and our eyes lock. “Do you trust me?” he asks, searching my face.
I think so,I realize, but the words refuse to come out. “I’m trying,” I whisper raggedly.
“Try harder,” he demands. Then he leans in, his mouth crashing against mine, and we kiss hungrily. Water drips all over the floor as our wet bodies mold together. My arms snake around his neck and he tightens his hold. There’s not much between us, just some very thin, barely-there material, and his hard body is making me want more.Ohh. He’s deliciously wet, yet so hot, and I writhe against him.
“Okay, check the back of the case,” Linc says, and Knox and I reluctantly pull apart.
“You make me crazy,” he tells me huskily before tapping his earpiece. “Copy that, Deck.”
I shift, completely overheated as he circles around to the rear of the case and squats down.
“I’ve got a red, blinking light,” Knox reports.
“Good,” Linc responds. “That means you’re clear.”
Knox stands up and moves back to my side. “What’s that code?”
Linc starts rattling off a series of numbers and I’m holding my breath as Knox hits one button after another. Oh, my God, this is absolutely nail-biting. The only thing I can compare it to is when I was up in the air having a dogfight with the enemy. My heart is racing, my palms are sweating and adrenaline is pumping through my body.
After he punches in the last number, there’s a slight wisp of sound as the glass lifts.
“It’s open,” Knox murmurs, and I finally release the breath I’ve been holding.
“You need to check if there’s a pressure switch,” Linc says.
“And how exactly do I do that?” Knox asks.
“You have your switchblade?”
“Always.”
He plucks a small, folded blade from an inside flap of his swimsuit where it’s been carefully concealed.
I slant him a look as he opens it. “Are you sure you’re not former military? A SEAL maybe?”
He chuckles. “Maybe in a past life.”
“Okay,” Linc says, “carefully slide it beneath the emerald—”
“There’s a velvet cloth under it.”
“Huh.”
Knox and I exchange worried looks. “Huh?” he echoes. “You gotta give me better direction than that, Deck.”
“Maybe there isn’t a switch.”
A very tense, excessively long moment of silence passes.