Page 22 of Crocodile Tears (Romance Expected Dating Service #2)

“Several.”

“That’s very attractive.” She resumes working on the vest with obvious enthusiasm. “I wasn’t expecting to find tactical competence quite this arousing.”

I let out a choked laugh. “I wasn’t expecting to conduct a rescue operation quite this arousing.”

The vest hits the floor with a soft thud, followed by my shirt as Becci explores the planes of my chest with obvious appreciation.

When her fingertips trace the scars from various operational hazards, she looks up at me with a mixture of concern and fascination.

“Your security consulting job involves getting shot at. Doesn’t it? ”

“Occasionally.”

“Only occasionally?”

I half-shrug. “I get shot at a lot, but I’m better at evading the bullets than letting them hit me.”

She laughs softly and then gasps as I lift her against the wall, wrapping her legs around my waist with athletic grace. The position brings us into perfect alignment, and the friction makes us both moan with desire.

“We’re in a storage closet in a hostile facility,” I point out while trailing kisses down her neck.

“I’m aware.” She works on my belt with the same systematic approach she uses for everything else. “Are you having second thoughts about the timing?”

“I’m having thoughts about the complete lack of appropriate timing, location, and security protocols.” I groan as she presses her hand against my cock as though testing the length and girth.

“Yet you’re not stopping.” She strokes me through my pants.

“Yet I’m not stopping.” I lift a hand to knead her breast until she moans. When I stroke her nipple, she lets her head rest against the wall, though she’s still working my pants, finally having removed the belt and moved on to the snap and zipper.

When she succeeds in unfastening my pants, she slides her hand inside to wrap around my cock with confident pressure that makes my vision blur momentarily. I bite down gently on the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, and she arches against me with a soft cry.

“Cal… ” Her voice is breathless and urgent. “I need you.”

I reach between us to work on her clothing, grateful that her captors provided practical pants rather than complicated garments.

I unfasten them slowly, trailing my fingers along her skin as I ease them down her hips.

She shivers at the contact, catching her breath when I trace the edge of her underwear.

“Cal… ” she whispers, moving her hips restlessly against me.

I kiss her deeply while sliding my hand lower and stroking her through the thin fabric of her panties. She’s already wet, and the heat of her pussy makes me groan against her mouth.

“I want to touch you properly,” I whisper, and she nods eagerly.

I slip my hand inside her underwear, finding her slick and ready.

When I stroke her folds gently, exploring her, she arches into my touch with a soft cry.

I circle her clit with careful pressure, watching her face as pleasure builds in her expression.

I vary the speed and pressure until her hips are jerking rhythmically as she loses all concept of pace.

“You’re so wet for me,” I whisper, sliding one finger inside her. She gasps, clenching her internal muscles around me.

“More,” she whispers, and I comply, adding another finger and establishing a rhythm that has her trembling against me.

I work her methodically, curling my fingers to find the spot that makes her back arch while my thumb continues circling her clit.

She’s panting now, her nails digging into my shoulders as she rides my hand.

I’d love to taste her, but that’s too big a risk under the circumstances—though this whole encounter is pure insanity. Knowing that doesn’t mean I can stop.

“Are you ready for me?” I ask when she’s gasping and desperate.

“Yes. Please, Cal. I need you inside me.”

I shift our positions to bring my cock against her pussy, leaving us both breathless with anticipation. I brush the head of my cock against her entrance, and she whimpers softly at the contact. The sound makes something primal stir in my chest—part protective instinct and part raw desire.

“I love how wet you are,” I whisper against her lips, teasing her with shallow movements that make her hips buck, seeking more.

“Please.” She digs her nails into my shoulders. “Stop teasing.”

When I finally push inside her slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size, her mouth falls open in a silent gasp of pleasure.

Her core feels incredible—hot and tight and perfect around me, like her body was designed specifically for mine.

“God, Becci.” I pause when I’m fully seated inside her, overwhelmed by the sensation. “You feel amazing.”

She wraps her legs tighter around my waist, taking me even deeper. “Move,” she whispers urgently. “I need you to move.”

I pull out slowly until only the tip remains inside her before thrusting back in with controlled force that makes her cry out softly. The angle is perfect, hitting spots that make her eyes roll back with pleasure.

“Yes.” She gasps, meeting my next thrust with her own movement. “Just like that.”

I establish a rhythm that has her trembling against me, each stroke designed to maximize the friction and pressure that’s driving us both toward madness. The storage room fills with the sound of our breathing and the soft noises of our bodies joining.

“You like this?” I ask, changing the angle slightly to hit a spot that makes her back arch.

“I love it.” She bites her lip to keep from crying out too loudly. “I love the way you feel inside me.”

Her excitement triggers a partial shift, making scales appear along her shoulders and arms. Her eyes take on the predatory focus of her crocodile nature. For a moment, I’m concerned about compatibility issues between our shifted forms.

Those concerns evaporate when her transformation enhances rather than complicates our connection. Her increased strength allows her to match my movements with athletic precision while her enhanced senses seem to amplify every touch and sensation.

My own shift begins in response to hers—enhanced strength and endurance that allows me to support her weight effortlessly while maintaining the rhythm that’s driving us both toward release. My skin takes on the subtle texture of scales, and my grip on her hips becomes more possessive.

Where our bodies join, we both maintain perfect human form, minimizing any possible conflict between our beastly shapes.

“You’re incredible like this,” I whisper against her ear as I surge deeply inside her, and she responds by tightening her pussy around me in ways that make rational thought impossible.

“Cal… ” She drags her claws gently down my back, careful not to cause damage while still expressing the intensity of what she’s feeling. “Don’t stop.”

I increase my pace, driving into her with the kind of controlled power that only comes from enhanced shifter strength. Each thrust pushes her higher up the wall, and she has to wrap her arms around my neck to maintain her position.

“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, punctuating each word with a deep stroke that makes her gasp.

“Yes.” Her voice is barely coherent. “Exactly what I wanted.”

The combination of danger, adrenaline, and desperate attraction creates an intensity I’ve never experienced before. Every nerve ending feels hyperactive, every sensation magnified beyond normal human capacity.

“I feel how close you are,” I murmur, adjusting my angle to increase the pressure against her most sensitive spots. “Let go for me, Becci.”

She shakes her head, trying to maintain control. “Not yet. I want this to last.”

But her body betrays her words, trembling and tightening around me in ways that suggest she’s fighting a losing battle against her own pleasure. I slow my movements deliberately, making each stroke long and deep and measured. “Then we’ll take our time.”

The change in rhythm makes her whimper with frustration and need. “That’s not fair.”

“Nothing about this situation is fair.” I capture her mouth in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and barely controlled hunger. “But I’m going to make sure you remember every second of it.”

I couldn’t stop if enemy forces were breaking down the door. The feel of her body responding to mine, the sounds she makes when I hit exactly the right angle, the way she looks at me like I’m something precious and dangerous—all of it combines into an experience that transcends the physical.

When I feel her starting to peak, I thrust harder and faster, giving her the intensity she needs to fall over the edge.

Her release hits like a shock wave, and she buries her face against my shoulder to muffle her cry of pleasure.

The sensation of her sheath contracting around me triggers my own climax, and I come inside her with a low growl that probably carries more of my Gila monster nature than is appropriate.

For several heartbeats, we remain locked together, breathing hard and trembling with aftershocks. Her scales gradually fade as her shift subsides, and my own enhanced features return to baseline human appearance.

“Well,” she says finally, her voice husky with satisfaction, “that wasn’t quite how I imagined our second date.”

I laugh, still holding her against the wall. “It was certainly memorable.”

She gives me a slow, satisfied smile. “I have to say, your approach to tactical operations is surprisingly… thorough.”

“My approach to you is unsurprisingly thorough.” I help her down gently, both of us beginning the process of making ourselves presentable for continued escape operations. “This definitely wasn’t in my civilian reintegration handbook.”

“Your what?”

“Long story.” I retrieve my scattered gear while she adjusts her clothing. “Which I’ll be happy to tell you once we’re somewhere that doesn’t involve armed guards and genetic weapons research.”

“About that.” Becci turns serious as she straightens her shirt. “We still need to destroy the laboratory. I wasn’t joking about the consequences of leaving that research intact.”

I look at her determined expression and realize extracting Dr. Lawson is going to involve significantly more complications than I anticipated. She’s not just a victim to be rescued. She’s a scientist with strong ethical convictions and the tactical flexibility to adapt to changing circumstances.

“All right.” I finish securing my vest and check my remaining equipment. “We do this my way. No improvisation, no splitting up, and no heroic sacrifices for the greater good.”

“Agreed.” She grins with obvious excitement. “Though I reserve the right to provide technical expertise about which specific systems to target for maximum effectiveness.”

“Of course, you do.”

As I open the storage room door and check the hallway for threats, I wonder what Dr. Martinez would say about my approach to civilian dating.

Probably something about how rescue operations involving international criminal organizations and military-grade genetic research aren’t exactly what she had in mind when she recommended “taking things slowly.”

Looking at Becci as she prepares to help me sabotage a hostile research facility, I think this might actually be the most honest second date I’ve ever had. At least neither of us has to pretend to be someone we’re not.