Chapter 11: The First Night

Maeve's POV

"It's the range camera," Eamon said against my mouth. "It follows motion. It sends to my server, and nobody reads that server but me."

"You're sure?"

"I'll delete it in the morning."

I pulled back far enough to see his face.

His lips were swollen, and his hair stood up where my fingers had been.

"Then we're not doing this in a shed with a plywood door," I said.

He took my hand and walked me through the dark.

Team leads had private rooms at the end of the dormitory hall, and his had a narrow bed, a desk covered in drawings and one small lamp.

He locked the door behind us and leaned on it.

"Rule nine," I said.

"I know."

"You said you couldn't touch me."

"I said I couldn't," he said, hoarse. "I lied."

I took off my jacket and let it drop on his drawings.

He watched my hands.

I pulled my sweater over my head, and then my undershirt, and stood in front of him in my bra with the lamp on my skin.

His breath went out of him.

"Come here," I said.

He crossed the room in two steps.

I pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed and stood between his knees.

He put his good hand on my waist and his mouth against my stomach, and I felt the heat of him through my ribs.

"You're breathing on me," I said, and my voice cracked.

He laughed, and the laugh turned into a groan when I took his bandaged hand and put it flat over my breast.

"Careful," I said. "Your hand."

"I don't care about my hand."

"I do."

He lifted me with his other arm and laid me back on the narrow bed.

I undid my belt, and he finished it, and the jeans came off in one long drag.

He knelt over me and looked.

"Say something," I said.

"I can't."

"Try."

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