An Eye For An Eye (Fast & Furious | Hobbs/OFC)

Chapter 38

Footsteps echoed in the plane's main corridor like a death knell for them both, and Hobbs reacted the only way he could: he picked Elizabeth up and pivoted to face away from the bathroom door. Her towel lifted slightly as she wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to press her against the wall.

Their gazes met for all of a half second, but it was enough to communicate the obvious. They needed to keep their cover, and short of killing whoever was about to walk into the bathroom, this would have to do.

It wasn't as if either of them would enjoy it anyway.

Elizabeth angled her head and met him halfway, her right hand coming to grasp the back of his neck and eyes half-lidded as Luke closed the rest of the distance between them.

It started off chaste at first. Hesitant and uncomplicated until Elizabeth's grip on his neck and his on her thighs both tightened. Then it turned hot. There was no other word for it—someone cranked up the temperature on their internal thermostats. Her touch seared him to the bone and molten need coursed through his veins, scorching him.

Shit.

Had it really been so long since he last held a woman like this that making out with Elizabeth Shaw felt damn near perfect?

"Luke." She even groaned his name near perfectly. "Fuck."

Neither of them looked at the door lest they broke their rhythm, and there was a rhythm. Just like in the cargo hold when he began to teach Elizabeth how to clear a room properly, they'd fallen in sync again. Her leaning up to meet him, digging her fingers into the base of his neck and pushing herself eagerly against him, allowing Luke to press himself even closer. Molding them together until he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began.

Their breath came in short, eager gasps, and those footsteps grew louder. Still, Luke didn't break it off. He was a starving man in need and here was a woman offering him a feast. One that would soon end the moment they were caught.

Or so it seemed that way.

Loud turned to quiet as whoever it was made their way upstairs. The bathroom door didn't open, there was no interruption, and neither of them stopped. For whatever reason, he didn't pull away either as it sank in that no one had found them. If anything, his kisses only grew more intense and eager.

Up until the moment that proverbial bucket of ice cold water was dumped on his head.

"We've got a job in one hour." The door flung open and struck the wall, revealing Jakob. An angry Jakob if his biting tone was any indication as he tossed a duffel bag onto the floor. "Get dressed, Shaw."

To no one's surprise, she didn't break her stride for one second. Elizabeth moved her lips from Luke's mouth to his ear and spoke just loud enough for him and Jakob both to hear.

"I guess that gives you one hour to knock my socks off. Think you can handle that, Fed?"

"You want me to get on my knees or my back?"

He shouldn't have said it. The moment the words left his mouth, regret piled on his shoulders and hit him like a ton of bricks. Yet his gut told him Shaw wasn't a pillow princess in any sense of the term. There was no way a woman like her would be on the bottom, let alone lay there and do nothing. No, she had to be in control every time, like she was now.

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Elizabeth." Jakob ground out the word like he was losing his patience. "I said get dressed."

"I heard you, but first I need to get undressed. Do you mind?"

Jakob shut the door without another word, leaving them alone with each other and their thoughts. Luke met Elizabeth's gaze as she pursed her lips, frowning, her mind going a million miles a minute. Was she asking the same questions as him? Wondering just how they'd gotten to this point or where they'd go from here?